#I’m sorry for always switching how I format my writing posts

[attemptinghaikyuu]

Nonplussed Cutie

G/n reader x Yahaba Shigeru

A/n: never have I ever written for him. I didn’t have plans to, but I suddenly thought this dynamic was cute and Jesus Christ I needed to write it down. Doubt I will ever write for him again so enjoy

———

Yahaba will flirt like there’s no tomorrow at times. Especially when he thinks someone is cute.

Its a warm day when Yahaba flirts with a person that has a laugh that rings melodically. They’re sweet and act like they’re into him, before they get mean and tell him he’s a loser. He gets that he was being messed with, immediately acting like he knew he was being played and turns away (too fast). He bumps into you as he’s trying to get away from the crime scene, and accidentally gets pissy.

You tell him off for being rude before ultimately, you both end up yelling at each other.

You think nothing of the jerk until you run into him at your job. He’s new, you have to train him. Torture. Torture torture torture.

The jerk is so annoying. He’s honest to a painful fault. When he flirts with random people on his break he shows exactly how nervous he is, and gets way too invested in things he shouldn’t- you resign yourself to having to drag him out of trouble as his senior.

You appreciate when he decides to apologize for how he acted when you first met though. You meet him halfway with an apology of your own.

It’s still hard dealing with the flirt as you train him, don’t get it wrong just cause he ends up bearable to be around. You end up thinking it’s fine having him nearby, as long as he’s mildly aware of his actions and keeps doing a good job with his work.

Yahaba on the other hand of this, finds himself very quickly enjoying your company. He likes the way you look out for him, the way you go above what you need to do for your job, and how you’re willing to except when he messes up. Yahaba has always liked people who could take his faults and believe he was still worth keeping close by.

He’s worried he likes you too much after awhile. It’s really hard to not like the way you know what to say to get a whole room to listen to you, or to turn away from your serious conversations that are strangely cute tangents.

He thinks he might seriously like you.

But he doesn’t say that. He cares too much about the rejection he’s sure to get, because he can’t chance ruining your work relationship and the possibly blooming friendship you have going on.

Yahaba keeps a lot of little things about you to himself, like how you look really good when you laugh.

He tries to be funnier when he realizes he thinks that. He’s not sure he’s succeeding. It’s not like he knows if you like him more then a work friend actually.

Yahaba concludes very suddenly, that he doesn’t care what might happen with your feelings towards him when he sees you on one of his days off with someone who’s flirting, or from his view of the situation, bugging you. He doesn’t care about the raised eyebrow you give him when he buts in to the conversation, telling the person you have a boyfriend and it’s him.

“Is that true?” The skepticism from the total stranger grates on Yahaba’s nerves, even with the knowledge that you might deny his help and say the truth.

He freezes.

Oh god, he so does care as you snake an arm around his waist. He really cares as you lean against him, saying “yeah, I’m sorry,” you squeeze a little and he stops breathing.

“My boyfriend already asked me out, so I can’t say yes to your offer.”

When the person walks away, Yahaba tries so hard not to let blush stain his entire face. It must not work since you look at him and appear concerned.

So he’s a tomato. Who cares, you just called him your boyfriend. It’s a dream come true.

He grimaces after you ask if he needs to sit, or if he’s feeling dizzy. With his ‘No!’ as your reply you go quiet. That makes him nervous. He resists the urge to ask you a million wrong questions, and waits for you instead to ask him a right one.

“Thank you…” it’s a little hesitant and it takes Yahaba way too long to realize your acting shy.

The explosion in his heart is minuscule compared to what you do to his heart next.

“Hey, if you’re alright with it.. I can buy you a drink as thanks, or we could walk around and get food somewhere you like?”

Yahaba’s not sure what it was that made him fall for your serious, nonplussed self- the same self that is definitely taking the actions he just made as platonic. But he knows why he’s not going to stop feeling this way. It’s in all the careful actions and the more thoughtless ones too. It’s in the way you’re all the way under his skin.

He’s just so happy sipping separate milkshakes with you, when he gets out of his sparkly world enough to say he’d love to get drinks. It wouldn’t matter what you were doing as long as it was together. He’s even happy your concerned about his circulation.

The offhand comments about seeing a doctor for the blushing he can’t completely stop are—embarrassingly enough—going to be replaying in his head as he tries to fall asleep that night. He hopes you don’t think he picked the milkshakes in an attempt to cool down his face. Yahaba’s hopes are dashed when you give another comment hinting at exactly that being the reason.

He sighs. He seriously can’t get over how cute you are.

[judeyswife]

not what i’m looking for. — jude bellingham x reader. II

genre : angst

word count : 928

note : hii lovies, this is official part two of the series not what im looking for !!! (part one) please let me know of what yall think in the comments! there will be a part 3 guys so don't worry, but it'll probs be a wrap up for this mini series since i want to get started on some other fics too + made a few format changes and writing from author's pov this time -- but thats it! enjoyyy! requests box always open !!

‏‏‎ ‎ ———————————————————-‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎

"i'm sorry"

it's horrendous how fast people switch up. or i'd say men, in this case. it's been roughly about six months since that conversation had happened. it was honestly one of the worst days in your whole life. i mean, yeah you'll get through it. but why? every once in a while you think about what did she have that you didn't.

but this is a topic that hasn't been brought up in about a month. and a certain individual isn't mentioned anymore in your life thank the lord.

you have gone to a beach house near where you live with a few of your best friends, layla, jess, and liv. yall needed this vacation after months of torture. or studying.

they've been with you since day one. truthfully you'd say who needs a relationship when you have your homegirls?

"Y/N, come here right fucking now." -- layla screamed from our room in the house.

you could literally think she had been getting murdered with the way she was screaming honestly.

"oh my god what!"

"whats his name posted a fucking video of missing someone LOOK."

who? jude.

you sit next to her curiously taking her phone from her hands in order for you to take a look at the tiktok she was trying to show you.

( for the sake of the story, jude has tiktok xoxo )

you were shocked. who genuinely who would've though that he'd actually miss us? it didn't even sound right thinking about it.

"maybe it's about her layla" you shrugged getting up to grab your water bottle from her desk.

"are you stupid girl, he's obviously thinking about you, i mean look at his caption." - 'didn't think a situationship could hurt more than an actual relationship' don't be a fool y/n"

liv and jess had entered the room a few minutes ago listening to the conversation making liv enter the conversation.

"ain't no way he has the nerve to do that bullshit on social media"

you stood there listening to them diss jude for about 5 minutes straight. but your lost in your thoughts. i mean, why would he ever miss something he supposedly never had? it's genuinely so draining and confusing.

"guys just drop it, its whatever. lets just go hang out at the hot tub, i really fucking need it"

your friends just looked at one another not saying a single word. they knew better. not to make you sound like a maniac or anything, but they knew how you were with bottling up your feelings. jude was a sensitive topic for you. they didn't want to be the cause of ruining your vacation over some dumb tiktok captions. they simply agreed with you and started getting changed to go out the the hot tub.

•

it had been a few hours since you last seen your phone and you're now inside getting ready to have dinner with the girls and settling down. so you took these few moments, unlocked your phone and checked out what you had missed.

you furrowed your eyebrows trying to figure out who this number could possibly belong to. since you and layla are sharing a room for the trip, she was getting ready at her vanity and noticed your confused expression.

"y/n what's up?" -- asking you meanwhile putting a face mask on.

"i don't know, this random number just texted me with my name i'm just hella confused"

"that's weird. ask who it is obviously"

you nodded listening to what she had advised you to do.

you had this conversation silently without saying a word to layla about who this "mystery person" was. mainly because you wanted to fight your own battles. i mean you basically already had jess and liv involved. not that your mad at them or anything, you know they want what's best for you. clearly they're on team jude. those girls.

"who was it?" layla said getting up from her chair to grab her phone from the charger near her bed. "no one important, they got the wrong number and person" you honestly don't know how she believed you. you hate to admit but you were feeling jittery after having that conversation with jude after so long. even if it was barely a conversation.

you hated that you needed to lie to layla, but you truly believed it was honestly for the best. when you and jude were talking, they knew every single detail about the relationship you had with jude. and by they i mean your friends and his friends. always involved. one of the main issues why miscommunication was lacking horribly in your relationship. so that's why you want a new beginning. not just to "lie" to your friends but to feel the sense of control in your life. even if tomorrow was the last conversation you had with jude, you wanted to keep the moment to yourself.

•

without saying a word to anyone, you and jude had been chatting it up all night. just a catch up with each other. you guys went from telling every detail of your day to each other, to not saying a single word for months to each other. it felt nice being able to slowly regain that comfort you once had when you guys would text or facetime all night long.

you were honestly praying for the best in tomorrow's conversation, you had no idea what it could lead up to.

but the overthinking was done on your pillow all night long, plus his texts of course.

[dirtylittlecubbs]

Hey I just saw your post asking about where the variety is regarding Enha smut and , it’s mostly x fem reader since most writers on here are female. I’m not saying that just because they’re female that they can’t write x male reader but ; most afab writers don’t write x male readers because 1.either they’re not comfortable with it 2.don’t know much about mxm sex 3.don’t want to come off as fetishizing (yes, some get attacked for this). There are some writers that do write x male reader (only if requested)for exactly this reason of variety to make male fans feel included.

I’m sorry if I understood your post wrong

Alright I've been reading Enha smut on here for awhile and I made that post because there used to be variety. There used to be way more options for reading Enha smut lol. So that's why I asked.

As for the people being attacked for mxm smut I actually had no idea about that. Frankly it's stupid how people can call someone that doesn't have a male reproductive organ a fetishiser for writing mxm. That is quite literally, some of the dumbest shit I've ever heard.

People's stupidity continues to baffle me.

When I said variety tho I didn't only mean mxm. I also meant in terms of dynamics and scenarios and kinks. Everything I see now is pretty much the same themes.

Sub Reader x Top Member/s. Hard kinks again Reader is the sub. Outside the bedroom they don't change, Reader is still the "shy" must do everything she's told type. Or the, I'm a brat that likes being put in my place type

None of these things are inherently bad, there's just way to much of it now. The reader is always the sub, the kinks are pretty vanilla and when they aren't it's just again, the reader being on the receiving end of a lot of these kinks. There's no experimenting with dynamics, playing on other aspects of the members personalities (that we see) playing with different personalities for the Reader etc

It's gotten boring and maybe that's offensive but really you can't deny it. There's not much I can do about what other people write (aside from requesting maybe) but like you said a lot of them don't wanna write other stuff or aren't comfortable with it.

I never see anything that doesn't fit the same format anymore. The only other stuff on here are Engenes weird obsession with Yandere members and CNC. I'm not one to judge, to each their own, I'm into some weird shit too but...when those few themes are your only options...it's hard to enjoy stuff.

And again, the Reader isn't even the ones stalking the members or anything like that. The Reader is once again the sub/soft one.

My switch heart can't take the lack of variety for me and my people😔 /sarcasm

And you didn't understand my post wrong so don't worry Anonnie. You just took what I laid out and gave your piece on the matter, respectfully too. Hard to come by these days😂

[starryjeekies]

~ Omega X OT11 ~ Dom to Sub

A/N: hello, this was requested by one of my irl friends because I’m finally getting back into writing again and we just saw Omega X together. So I’m formatting this just like my E’last one so check that one out too if you’d like! It’s super unhinged I’m so sorry whoops. Everything is below the cut. Enjoy!!

Dom

1. Hyuk

2. Sebin

3. Yechan

4. Junghoon

5. Hangyeom

6 Jaehan

7. Xen

8. Taedong

9. Hwichan

10. Jehyun

11. Kevin

Sub

Dommest of dom. There is no sub part about him. Have you seen him? Hyuk is a man like no other. Sure he can be cute and adorable when he wants to be. But I honestly think that he needs total control in the bedroom. Now this doesn’t mean he won’t want someone on top of him, bouncing on him, but if anything else he’s a power bottom. There. That’s it. Send tweet.

Sebin. S e b i n. For some reason, my irls and I agree that he is unpredictable. We can’t actually determine anything about this man other than that he is a dom and he is freaky. It’s always the sweet ones that are crazy in the sheets. Because of this I feel like he would be the one in charge and doing all the crazy things. Might let you take control once but he won’t let that go to your head.

My dude will probably put up a fight if you try to dom him. I said it so many times but Yechan would be the bitch to square up in a Denny’s parking lot at 3 am. If anything, he would be the type of guy to make you ride him while being overstimulated whoops that’s a different post. There could be a façade of doming but if you slip out of line he will bring you crashing down.

Daddy Junghoon my mans, hello. Tbh out of everyone in OX, I wouldn’t pick Junghoon to have the daddy kink but hey whatever works for him (I highly suspect Yechan had something to do with this). But I think he would definitely be a dom more so because he doesn’t know how good it can be for a partner to take over. Once he’s been in a situation where he doesn’t have to be in control and he feels it hits different, then I think he’d be more open to you doming him more often.

A man who likes to please. Hangyeom is one who probably would do a lot of things his partner asks of him. Fuck them from behind? Bet. Against the wall? Just say please. Ride him? Better be lubed up. So not saying he’s a switch, but if you ask him to please you, he’ll probably be in control but give you a wild ride unless you ask otherwise.

Just a big baby, that’s all. I don’t think Jaehan is too much whichever way he goes. He’s a big sweetheart so whether it’s him controlling what happens or when you’ve had a few orgasm and take control to chase the final one, I think he’s happy either way. Probably is the type of dom who wants almost wreck you and you spring back at the last second so you’re both fucked out.

I had a long convo about this one, but Xen needs to be put into submission. I think he’s a switch with a dom lean and needs to be forced into submission because he’s a BRAT. Probably likes it too so don’t be afraid to. He’s definitely cocky in what he can do to you so you need to put him in his place with overstimulation and a nice cock ring oops wrong post again.

Taedong is only slightly higher on this list because there is a slightly more dom leaning but that is it. Otherwise I feel like its pretty even. Like 55/45. Yeah. I want to say that he’s game for a lot of things. He’s probably more of the experimentalist because he’s got a dancer physique and can contort his body in different ways. I also can just see him saying a mantra of “please” when he’s close and that’s hella sub energy.

The true switch in my opinion. When I asked “who would want a strap” and my friend immediately said Hwichan so I’m rolling with it. Hwichan is probably really fun and sex would be like the Olympics of just one round after another, both doing a new sport essentially. One minute he’d have you crying and the next you would be needing to hold his hips down to stop him fucking up into your hand.

Jehyun honey ily you’re my ult but your introverted ass comes off kinda subby. He’s shy and can be bashful but he’s also flirty (ik i met him irl and he called me pretty) so he has SOME confidence but I think he’s gotta be comfortable with a partner to determine if he can be more of a dom and more of a sub. Opposite of Taedong but still pretty close.

I want him to prove me wrong but Kevin is too sweet to be a dom. Yes, yes, I know soft doms exist but he is like a patch of daisies on a sunny spring day. I think it’s the pink hair and the constant duck faces he does. I definitely think being a dom is in him, for sure (thank you love me like) but just not as strongly s sub. Still an fantastic lover though don’t let his adorable face fool you he’s probably really good with his mouth.

[inadequate-nefelibata]

The cobra kai writers room in numbers

I guess I’m finally going to post this, because otherwise I made all those excel speadsheets for no reason. (if you just want the numbers, its under “Writers room in numbers”)

It’s my personal opinion that every discussion about representation in media should always include a conversation about who is writting those stories. One of the main reasons why we lack diverse mainstream stories is because a lot of the time this type of media is produced and written by privileged groups. 

This is something that has been mentioned before many times, in many fandoms, but because the writer’s room is not inmediately visible when you consume a piece of media, most of the conversations about biases and stereotypes tend to focus on the diversity and development of the characters: how many of them belong to a certain group, what kind of storylines they get, etc, etc. If this is deemed insufficient or inadequate, the writers are encouraged to do better. 

This is not necessarily wrong: constructive criticism can actually help people become aware of certain issues in their writing. But even when they do care, these people are still going to be much better at empathizing with and humanizing people from their own group, not just because of their personal experiences, but also because the media they grew up with and still consume today contains those same biases. So, for example, as much as I do believe that a well-meaning man could create some great female characters, his ideas are probably going to be heavily influenced by what he has already categorized as “good female characters” in mainstream media, unless he actively looks for stories that were written by women. 

I did all that long texty introductiong because I dont want to make it seem like im singling out one show: this is an issue of the entire... uh format? 

Okay, so with that out of the way: 

Writer’s room in numbers

(That speadsheet looks ugly as hell, but oh well. I hope it’s at least visible!) 

References: 

orange: writer/director is not a man

green: writer/director is not white

To make it accesible for everyone, the numbers are:

N° of writers: 

White: 12/13

Men: 10/13

White men: 9/13

N° of episodes (writers):

White: 25/30

Men: 24/30

White men: 19/30

N° of directors:

White: 6/8

Men: 7/8

White men: 5/8

N° of episodes (directors):

White: 26/30

Men: 24/30

White men: 20/30

N° writers + directors (I realize that this is redundant. But I only came to that conclusion after I did the math. so Im sorry okay, but I need to put it somewhere):

White: 15/18

Men: 14/18

White men: 11/18

N° of episodes (writers + directors):

White: 22/30

Men: 20/30

White men: 14/30

To summarize: most of the writers/directors are white men,  half of the episodes are written and directed by white men, there are NO women of color, and NO latines, or, at least, no latines of color.

All the information was taken from the US wikipedia page of Cobra kai (you can see who wrote each episode there), IMDb and  the social media accounts of the members of the staff. Truthfully, I have no idea if the information on wikipedia is 100% legit. I originally went to the spanish version of the page, cause that’s my native language, aand some things there didn’t seem right. So, I switched to the US one because it seemed more complete. But... I don’t know. Just to be clear. 

Also, Josh Heald, Jon Hurwitz, Hayden Schlossberg are always in charge of the story to some degree. According to the wikipedia page of Cobra kai, most of the input from other writers takes place in the teleplay. I know nothing about how  TV shows are made, but according to wikipedia: 

“According to current Writers Guild of America guidelines, a television script consists of two distinct parts: "story" and "teleplay". The story comprises "basic narrative, idea, theme or outline indicating character development and action", while the teleplay consists of "individual scenes and full dialogue or monologue (including narration in connection therewith), and camera set-ups, if required".[2] Simply put, this distinguishes the contribution of ideas toward the story from the actual writing of the dialogue and stage directions present on the page in the finished product.”

So that’s the difference.

Anyway, Cobra kai is not unique in this regard, but I think this is a good thing to keep in mind, especially when we discuss the lack of development of characters like Aisha or Carmen, or Nate, or the issues with most of the characters who are women. 

Extra stuff I have on my brain

According to some interviews (which should be taken with a grain of salt, bc they are talking about their bosses in public), both Vanessa Rubio (Carmen) and Tamlyn Tomita (Kumiko) got to make some calls in the story of their characters. For example, Vanessa said that she decided to give her an accent because of her background. Tamlyn put some conditions for her appearence in the show. Specifically, she wanted to see a more accurate portrayal of Okinawa. I did not get the impression that she was super satisfyed with the result though:

(...)

Unrelated but:

!!! 

[tiredbiostudent]

i love seeing your posts it's very motivating. if you dont mind me asking, do you have any advice for studying (or tricks you use for urself) ((it's v vague sorry))!!!

hi, thank you! honestly I am absolutely awful at studying but I will try to provide some helpful tips:

1. watching university vloggers always makes me feel more motivated to do work! my favourites atm are nayna florence, moya mawhinney, paigeyy (her old cambridge vlogs bc I think she’s graduated now), linh truong, and may gao 2. I have a really hard time getting started so sometimes you just need to be like alright I can at LEAST open up this pdf or assignment. and I can at LEAST create a new word document and write out what I have to do. and occasionally this tricks your brain into actually starting ;) 3. when you plan a study schedule, give yourself at least one free day where you have nothing planned bc at least for me I will absolutely need it. don’t cram your days full of unrealistic things to do! 4. take advantage of your productive moods, but also don’t be too hard on yourself when you’re feeling super tired or burnt out or unproductive. you can also try and flip your productivity switch on (tho this is hit or miss) by doing less taxing stuff like going on a walk, making your bed, watering your plants- any task that makes you feel like you’re accomplishing something 5. have a hobby and life outside of school. easier said than done, but this will really help alleviate the stress and anxiety you feel when something goes wrong academically and that’s the only “important” thing you feel like you have in life. take time for yourself to learn new things, relax, spend time with friends, be in nature, exercise. all about balance baby! 6. study based on what your exam will test you on. if it’s short answer, study the material but also practice writing out example answers. if it’s matching labels to diagrams, practice that! go beyond just writing out your notes, try and fit your studying method to the format of your test. it helps s o much. 7. similarly, ALWAYS DO THE REVIEW QUESTIONS. if you have no time to do anything else, DO THESE!!! I’ve been burned so many times because I feel obligated to retype out all my notes (bc I have to have everything altogether) and run out of time to do the practice questions my prof gives, and those are always the most relevant to what you’ll be tested on. hell, do these before anything else. cannot stress this enough lol!!!! 8. don’t do the readings unless you NEED to or it helps you learn. otherwise it’s a waste of time (and money for a textbook!) imo 9. switch up where you study. unfortunately this isn’t really feasible right now but I find I’m most productive at the library- at your university (if you go) try to find your favourite study spots, and have a few you can cycle through! for me it’s the lifesci commons, law library and the comp sci building because they’re chill, productive atmospheres (as opposed to the SUB or the health sci building, which are too loud and too intense respectively) 10. keep your phone out of sight lol. and get one of those browser locks like forest to dissuade you from getting distracted. for me it’s more of a split second compulsion to check and once there’s a barrier in my way I’m like oh. nvm. 11. my personal note-taking method is taking written notes in lecture of anything important that’s not on the slides. usually your prof will emphasize the important of a topic too! but if they don’t, pay attention to what they’re spending a lot of time going over. after class I’ll add my written notes to the lecture to supplement it and better explain everything we covered. (for virtual lectures, I basically have the slides open in one half of my screen and the lecture in the other and type notes onto the slides as it plays) 12. practice explaining concepts to yourself out loud- this is a great way to see if you’ve actually understood the material! if you can do this once solidly, you’re good to go and it’ll stick in your brain for a while. 13. also try and make connections between topics you’ve covered because often this is what profs like to ask about on exams (cough ~synthesis~). for instance, recognizing that keratin composes tissues in birds, mammals, reptiles, etc. 14. if you’ve been working hard or having a stressful time buy yourself a nice warm drink because you deserve it! :) 15. this one’s a little weird but if you need to remember something like what the foundational traits of vertebrates are, focus on memorizing how many you need to know! if I know there’s 6 of something I need to remember, it makes recalling them SO much easier 16. if you’ve been sitting down studying for a while take a break to just jump tf around your room. you could also go on a walk I guess but jumping is more fun. 17. it’s good to get a reminder of why you’re in school and what makes you passionate about what you’re studying to drive you to keep going. for me I love to watch nature documentaries or go on hikes or look through field guidebooks or read really neat academic papers :) 18. for the love of god please get enough sleep.

I also have a whole tag of #study tips that is 1000% more helpful than what I can provide so definitely take a look through there! good luck, you got this :) ps sorry this got so long winded lol I hope it helps!

[samingtonwilson]

Mac and Cheese

Summary: Bucky takes the last box of frozen mac and cheese, takes your phone, and makes you fall in love with him. The audacity of that man.

Prompt: “This has been a very bad week and you just grabbed the last box of my favorite comfort food at the supermarket” 

Pairing: bucky x reader

a/n: i wrote this and was fully done formatting it and everything, like, 6 months ago. i didn’t post it because it’s approx. 82% nonsense but i figured why not post it now when it’s still 82% nonsense but im struggling to finish everything else. so taal, long time vegan, writes a story about mac and cheese and, listen, idk what this fic is either. can i write a fic without adding sam to it? no.

Mac and cheese. That’s all you want. Disgusting, frozen, usually-quite-mushy-if-not-microwaved-correctly mac and fucking cheese. 

The kind with the layer of cheese on top. The kind with that real elbow pasta, not rotini or penne or seashell pasta— real macaroni. The kind you try to only eat one serving size of before you eat everything in the package. The kind you always gravitate to when your eyes are stained red, swollen, and too proud to be anything other than dry.

You take the subway. You switch lines. You endure the smell of the F train during rush hour when you aren’t sure where your thigh ends and the thigh of the woman sitting beside you begins. All for that one Trader Joe’s, out of many, in Brooklyn the hipsters abandon before six because the coffee shop next door closes at five.

Your feet ache in your boots and you’re pretty sure a rock has somehow lodged itself between your toes, it’s starting to rain and you have no umbrella, you don’t think your throat has ever felt so parched. 

But you tuck your phone into your back pocket and march into that store with the hideous overhead lighting that makes your skin look like it hasn’t seen a bottle of toner in days like you’re Hades, the box of mac and cheese is Persephone, and Trader Joe’s is Mount Olympus.

You aren’t planning on smiling at anyone in greeting. You aren’t planning on making eye contact with anyone. You aren’t even planning on waiting politely behind whoever is inevitably idly standing in front of the pasta section of the frozen aisle— you’re going to say, “Excuse me.” Like the badass, New Yorker, on-the-verge-of-tears bitch you are and you’re going to toss that mac and cheese into your basket like you’re Steph Curry at the NBA Finals.

Lines are long when you walk in, cashiers bored-looking and tired. The produce section is a jungle of stay at home fathers and people who make their own pressed juice, the salad display a mess of college students trying to eat healthy. 

Your eyes accidentally meet those of a toddler who is slyly plucking a grape from a bag he had no intention of spending his allowance on and you smile.

You hold your basket like a designer handbag and dilly-dally only for a moment to pick up some yogurt for breakfast tomorrow. 

And some inauthentic babka because there’s no way in hell you’re going to endure Zabar’s after this. 

And a package of olive oil popcorn, a bottle of three dollar chardonnay, and string cheese. 

But that’s it. Self-control.

You feel the chill of the frozen aisle before you step into it. You feel the magnetic pull of that box with only one step in its direction. You stop for just a second to grab the mini mango and cream pops.

You almost roll your eyes to yourself when you see that someone is indeed standing right in front of the frozen selection of pasta. He’s staring at two boxes— a red one in his gloved left hand and the one in his right hand green.

As you grow closer you notice behind his curtain of dark hair that his eyebrows are knit together and he’s frowning at a decision he must be forcing himself to make. 

Sophie’s Choice, but involving mediocre excuses for Italian food and no Nazis— hopefully. Because who really knows these days?

He wears a forest green hoodie under a black leather jacket, black jeans tight around thick thighs. Boots, too. You think you might swoon.

And you wait behind him. You tap your foot, shift your weight, and chew on your bottom lip. You don’t say anything.

He looks over his shoulder when you curse under your breath and set the heavy basket at your feet. He’s apologetic— and handsome— by the looks of it, blue eyes slightly widened and lips downturned. “Shit,” he says as he takes a few steps to the right. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug. You kick your basket with the toe of your boot until it lightly smacks against the bottom of the freezer. “No problem. It’s a big decision.”

His eyes lift from the boxes and he smiles. “Biggest one I’ve gotten to make in a while.”

Setting your hands atop the cold metal railing, you stare down into the freezer. You see farfalle with roasted tomatoes, rigatoni with pesto, ricotta and spinach ravioli, roasted vegetable lasagna, cauliflower gnocchi, chicken parm, and… an empty space. 

You tilt your head.

You lean away and crouch to read the description cards, looking for the bubble letters to tell you where on Earth your saving grace is. When you spot the card, you stand again. The indicated space is empty, your heart is empty, your will to live is—

A box of organic pesto tortellini is tossed back into the freezer and you look up. Your eyes might lose their prideful dryness at any moment, even in public next to that handsome stranger with the nice jacket and,

the box of mac and cheese.

You gasp audibly and leap backwards. You point at the box in his left hand.

With an expression of panic, he holds his hands— and the box— up in innocence. “It’s okay. I’m not—”

“What the fuck is that?” you shout to gain the attention of customers you don’t even perceive, waggling your finger at the box. Your wide-eyed stare, and bared teeth, and messy hair must be terrifying. You hope they are.

He looks down at his hand. An eyebrow lifts. And, confusedly, he asks, “The box?”

“Yes, the fucking box!”

“It’s mac and—” he meets your gaze again. You’re wearing your anger like armor. But you aren’t scared. Bucky thinks he might never have felt such relief at a woman’s anger. “It’s mac and cheese.”

You shake your head. Wildly. Your neck hurts. “It’s the last box of mac and cheese!”

He glances at the box, then back at you. He jabs his thumb over his shoulder. “They might have some in the back—”

You shake your head again. A hint of devastation cracks your voice as you say, “It’s Monday night. Trader Joe’s restocks Tuesday night. This is usually all they have left.”

“I—” He pauses. “Is this shit really that good—”

“No, it’s not but that’s not the point!” you’re shouting again. And crying. Oh, God, you’re crying. In public. “The point is my building is going co-op!”

He tilts his head. “Your building is—”

“And I have to buy my apartment if I want to keep it! And they don’t give raises at my job to women unless they’re willing to suck something I won’t say in front of that kid right there,” you nod toward a little girl in a pink raincoat with her pin straight black hair in pigtails who stares at you in bewilderment. You sniffle. “So I quit. And I’m proud of myself for it. Because I have integrity, and I have self-respect, and I have no gag reflex, so the rejection should kill my boss dead.”

He cracks a small smile when you let out a short, watery, pathetic laugh. Easily, he holds the box out to you. “I hope your boss is dead, too.”

You laugh again and don’t hesitate before taking the box. You wipe your cheeks with your sleeve. “Thank you. You’re nice.”

“Not a popular opinion, but one I’ll certainly take.” He’s smiling and it’s warm. “Sorry— about all that.”

“You’re apologizing to me? I just screamed at you in the Trader Joe’s freezer aisle over mac and cheese.”

He shakes his head and picks up his own basket when you grab yours. “Your building’s going co-op and your boss deserves to burn in hell. You should get all the mac and cheese you want.”

You reach into the freezer for that green box of tortellini he’d thrown in, tossing it into his basket with a smile. Steph Curry at the NBA Finals. “Still. I’m sorry for yelling and I hope the tortellini doesn’t suck too bad.”

“It’s frozen pasta. My expectations are low.”

You hum a laugh and walk past him to the crowded lines at the registers. “As they should be.”

It’s when you’re lost in the sea of customers and Bucky is deciding between frozen palak paneer and frozen lamb vindaloo with basmati rice that he feels a tug at the hem of his jacket. 

He looks away from the green and orange boxes, lowering his gaze to meet curious almond-shaped eyes beneath blunt black bangs. He smiles and she returns it. “Yes?”

She reveals her right hand, which she had hidden behind her pink raincoat, and holds a phone up to Bucky as far as her arm will let her.

“Is that your phone?”

She shakes her head and giggles. Loud, happy, and squeaky. “Yelling lady dropped her phone.”

Bucky’s eyebrows knit together until a woman, much closer to his height, steps behind the little girl. She takes the phone the girl holds out and offers it to Bucky when he straightens his posture. Her smile looks like the little girl’s. “We figured you would have a good chance at getting it back to her.”

He takes the phone and nods his thanks. Pressing the power button reveals a picture of you and a dog, a large, fluffy dog with its pink tongue hanging low. You’re smiling brightly and, oddly, it seems like the dog is, too.

—

“So you just took her phone? Didn’t even ask an employee to keep it there in case she came back for it?”

Bucky, watching the tray of pasta rotate in the microwave, scowls. “I would’ve if I’d known that was an option. And stop eating my fuckin’ chips.”

Sam tosses back another handful of kettle-cooked barbecue potato chips in defiance so the obnoxious crunching echoes through the kitchen. He smiles sarcastically when Bucky snatches the bag and rolls it up. Half is already gone. “You come up with how you’re gonna get it back to her?”

“Thinkin’ about asking Pepper to post a picture of it like it’s a missing child to that ‘Tweeter’ nonsense,” Bucky replies dryly. He’s glaring at Sam as he leans his hip against the counter. “You and I both know I haven’t come up with shit.”

Sam snorts and is smiling in amusement, deep brown eyes alight. Bucky hates the sight. “Tweeter. You’re so fuckin’ old.”

It’s been hours since Bucky took the phone from who he learned is little Vivienne and her mother, and he is no closer to getting it back to you. 

He’d tried looking for you at the store but there were too many people for a Trader Joe’s that Yelp claimed was the least busy in New York for that to yield results. So he returned to the Tower. He thought about asking Tony to look into the doohickey but figured an invasion of privacy should be the last resort.

He pulls the tray from the microwave with nimble vibranium fingers and sniffs the pasta before setting it down on the counter. He removes a bowl from one of the cabinets and dumps the steaming pasta in it, a sprinkle of freshly grated parmesan from a tub he’d bought— also at Trader Joe’s— a finishing touch.

“She’s cute,” Sam says when the screen lights up with an incoming text notification.

Bucky spins his fork between his fingers as he walks around the counter to sit on the barstool beside Sam’s. He glances at the phone as well. “Very cute,” he agrees. “She had a shitty day. Something about her apartment goin’ co-op. Whatever the hell that means.”

Sam frowns. “Means she’s gotta buy the place. And with New York real estate prices right now,” he shakes his head with a sigh. “She better have a well-paying job.”

“Quit that today, too.” Bucky takes a bite of the pasta and hisses as it burns his tongue. “Boss is a creep that asked for some action in exchange for a raise.”

“Jesus. Poor girl.”

The tortellini isn’t great. It’s a little bland, a bit too dry, and there isn’t enough filling— but it’s better than Bucky had expected. He takes another bite. “Yeah. And I took the last box of mac and cheese. Which is what she went to the store for.”

“I’m surprised your head wasn’t chopped off.”

Bucky smiles. “She yelled— a lot. Was crying, too, ‘til she said something and made herself laugh.”

Sam then begins teasing Bucky juvenilely for having a crush until both men are laughing and shoving one another to see who falls off their stool first, Sam only relenting when Bucky hands the potato chips to him again as a peace offering.

The bowl is in the sink and the chips are down to just crumbs when a loud ringtone— an instrumental version of an R&B song Bucky recognizes from Sam’s many plays of the original— shocks the two of them.

It’s from an unknown number and Bucky is unsure if he should pick up until Sam swipes answer and puts the call on speakerphone. “Hello?”

A sigh. Bucky doesn’t know if it’s one of relief or frustration. “I’m hoping whoever this is found my phone and didn’t steal it.”  

Sam shoves Bucky’s shoulder with a toothy grin and Bucky rolls his eyes. “The little girl you almost traumatized in the freezer aisle found it and gave it to me.”

Another sigh— the relief in this one is obvious— and you’re laughing. “It’s you— tortellini dude. Must’ve fallen when I crouched down.”

“Seems like it, yeah.”

“So are you gonna ask for my address or do I have to schlep over to Avengers Tower?”

Bucky and Sam exchange a look. “Avengers Tower?”

“You weren’t exactly in disguise— I realized who you are the minute I left the store. Would’ve recognized you right away but I was in my own head and you aren’t my favorite Avenger.”

Bucky smiles. “Yeah? And who is?”

“Falcon.”

Immediately, the phone is taken from Bucky’s hand. “Hi, baby, you’ve got Falcon.”

A gasp, a pause, then you laugh. Audibly stunned laughter. “You guys actually hang out with each other? That’s cute.”

Before Sam can reply, Bucky flicks his forehead— in reply to which Sam elbows Bucky’s ribs— and takes the phone back. “I can bring your phone to you whenever you’re free.”

“Awesome. I’m unemployed now so any time tomorrow is fine.”

You tell him your address before hanging up and he wishes you a good night. Your laughter is the last thing he hears before three beeps signify the end of the call.

—

Bucky takes the subway. He switches lines to the F train. He tries not to mind the overpowering smell of stale B.O. and deli meat leftover from rush hour, the skittering steps of a rat across the floor in the adjacent empty car. He ignores those who stare at him intensely enough to burn the fabric right off his skin. All for that one apartment in SoHo.

He thinks the gash below his ribs might still be leaking as the warm, moist subway station air blows past him. He can feel that cluster of bruises above his knee— the one from the pipe the hostile operative had ripped off the rickety walls of a nearly destroyed Hydra base— every time he takes a step, more so as he climbs the stairs.

He knows he must be quite a sight with combat boots and tac pants worn and dusty, a simple bomber jacket thrown over a ripped, sliced, stained compression tank. His mind is blank, his eyes shadowy, the ghost of something terrible lurking behind blue and grey. 

Posture stiff and muscles cold, steps crisp despite the ache, he follows the familiar path and manages to form the thought of turning around. Not bringing this all to a threshold— or, more accurately, a windowsill— he’s only crossed three or four times. He’s too weak, though.

It takes one rap of his knuckles against the third-story window for a lamp to flicker on, gauzy drapes pushed aside. You smile as he lifts the window open, stepping aside as he enters the apartment with careful grace. He feels less guilty when he sees that your bed is still made and your hair isn’t the tangled mess it usually is when he bursts in at a late hour.

“I have a door.”

“Okay, show-off.”

It’s when he steps into the light of the standing lamp in the room’s corner that your quiet laughter gives way to a soft gasp. 

He doesn’t like the widening of your eyes or the way you gently lift the right side of his jacket, fingers light against the torn fabric. But you laugh again, and it shakes in nervousness. “You know I’m not a doctor, right? Or a nurse? Or even a pharmacist with high self-efficacy?”

He nods and, despite himself, there’s a smile pulling at a corner of his lips. His eyes brighten a little. “It’ll heal itself.”

“Confidence. I like that in a burglar.”

Before he can take a step further into your bedroom, you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and point at his feet. “Boots.”

He kicks them off with a sigh and a groan when the shifting of his knee sends a tremor up his leg. His jacket is tossed aside as well, and he catches the black t-shirt you throw to him. You’d washed it, folded it, and put it in your closet. 

Just a little more brightness. “You owe me mac and cheese.”

“Oh, I owe you mac and cheese? We’re really holding onto shit from four months ago?”

He nods again and pulls his tank off, withholding a wince.

Eyebrow raised, you cross your arms over your chest. You’re giving him a narrow look but, because you’re clearly struggling against a smile, it’s one of his favorites of the expressions you’ve ever offered him. 

You give him a towel next— pastel blue. “Shower and then we’ll see about me owing you something.”

He wants to say thank you, do more than smile. 

But he knows if he so much as opens his mouth while you’re looking at him the way you are, he’ll tell you he’s fallen in love with you over the last four months, that maybe he’s been in love since you screamed at him in the freezer section of Trade Joe’s. 

He’ll go to say thank you, but the words of a Byron poem he’d learned to impress a girl in his English class more than eighty years ago will come pouring out or he’ll simply kiss you like he wishes he could on the nights he can’t sleep or during the missions he can just barely endure. 

He’ll go to say thank you, and then tell you with no clarity whatsoever that you’re what he finds comfort in when he’s had a hard day. That the disgusting, mushy, nothing-compared-to-fresh mac and cheese is just an excuse.

But he just smiles. And nods. And takes a shower.

His hair is still wet as he stands across from you at the kitchen counter. There’s a bowl of steaming pasta between you, a spoon in his hand and a fork in yours. “You’re dripping onto the counter.”

With a cocking of his eyebrow, he shakes his head and you sputter a laugh, shoving his shoulder. “Bucky!”

He laughs then, fully and happily, as he reaches over to wipe the drops from your cheeks and forehead. You only smile back, the gleaming of your eyes making him feel warm all over.

“This shit’s terrible, by the way,” he says after a minute of staring.

You shrug a shoulder. “Told you.”

“And you fought me for it. Publicly.”

You shrug again and laugh. You lean your elbows atop the counter to match his relaxed posture, dragging a noodle through a particularly large puddle of melted cheese. 

Looking up, your nose nearly bumps Bucky’s and you hope he doesn’t hear your breath stall. You try to smile. “Makes me feel better when I need to fill that hole in my heart.”

“With cholesterol?” he jokes.

“Yes. It’s excellent. It’s like spackle.” As he laughs and you roll your eyes, you push off the counter to stand straight. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Yeah?”

You hum. “I’m seeing an apartment I want tomorrow and need the rent lowered. And you’re the Winter Soldier.”

He considers that for a moment and you burst into laughter just as his eyes narrow into a fond glare. “You want me to scare them into lowering the rent?”

“Don’t think of it as you scaring them,” you begin, rounding the counter to stand next to him, hip leant against the marble, “think of it as you being an amazing friend and helping me.” A moment later you add, “By scaring them.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. He glances at the bowl to avoid the risk of staring at you for too long. “Fine.”

You grin. “You really take no convincing.”

A snort and he meets your gaze. “Only when it comes to you. I’m afraid you’ll start crying again.”

“So I could ask you for anything and you’d probably say yes?”

He shrugs a bit, then nods. Who is he kidding? You could ask for his right arm and he’d give it to you.

“Okay. Go on a date with me then.”

There’s a pause— in the conversation, in his chest. “A what?”

“A date. It’s like dinner, or coffee, or a movie, or something.” You grin when he takes half a step in your direction and his hands grip onto the counter at either side of you. “It’s this thing people do when they like each other.”

Something much more than like is in the sparkling of your eyes and the tilt of your head. Something that might match exactly what’s in his eyes whenever he’s around you. His insides burn at the thought.

“I know what a date is.”

“They had those back in your day?”

He nods and leans forward. “Not from the Stone Ages.”

Your lips brush lightly against his, hand set on his chest to feel the rapid beating beneath. You smile and he thinks he might melt. “Could’ve fooled me with that hair.”

Laughing, he presses his lips to yours a little harder.

—

Apartment littered with unpacked boxes, misplaced books, and askew furniture, you sit on top of the counter where Bucky works. He’s twirling a knife through his metal fingers, arranging sprigs of chives on the cutting board with the flesh ones. 

He smiles when he catches you staring at the pan cooling on the stove. “S’not done yet.”

You sigh. Loudly, heavily. “You took it out of the oven. That means it’s done.”

“It needs to cool for a few minutes or you’ll burn off your taste buds. You want to burn off your taste buds?”

“You want to burn off your taste buds?” you repeat in a high-pitched, taunting voice. You’re scowling and, somehow, look to be on the verge of snatching the knife from him to stab it through his chest. “Maybe I do.”

Less than a minute later, you groan and add, “I don’t care how good you are in bed. I’m about ten seconds from dumping you.”

Swiftly, he chops the chives and turns around to sprinkle a bit into the baking dish. “You know, most people would say thank you.”

“Most people don’t have to wait an hour while their boyfriend attempts to make mac and cheese when there’s a perfectly good box in the freezer that would take four minutes.”

“It’s worth it.”

In all honesty, he doesn’t know if it’s worth it. 

He’d asked Sam for a recipe and did his best to follow it despite the autocorrect which had changed “gruyere” to “grape year.” But he trusts it since Sam generally knows what he’s doing in the kitchen. Unlike Steve who had continuously attempted to chime in with useless suggestions such as, “Maybe don’t add the paprika.”

“Just trust me,” he urges as if replying to the growling of your stomach which has interrupted his search for the plates he could’ve sworn he’d unpacked. He’s crouched and searching the lower cabinets as he adds, “You’ll fall in love with me after you try it.” 

“Who says I haven’t already?” 

He stops searching.

He peeks his head above the edge of the counter and, his eyes wide, he sees you pulling two plates from a box placed on the small nook table. Your smile is small and a bit sheepish— the latter something he’d never seen from you. 

“You never took them out,” you tell him, the clatter of ceramic on the wooden surface loud when you set the plates down. As you approach and he stands to his full height, you sigh and roll your eyes at the look he gives you. “Yes, I love you. It can’t be that shocking.”

“It isn’t.” 

“Someone should tell your face that.”

Chuckling over the heavy thumps in his chest, he leans forward to kiss you but pauses just to say, “I love you, too, by the way.” 

When an empty dish sits between the two of you, Bucky’s stomach warm and full of over three-quarters of it, you stand from the table and walk to the freezer. 

Shooting a smile over your shoulder, you grab the familiar red box and toss it into the stainless steel trash can. Steph Curry at the NBA Finals. “I’m never eating that shit again.”

[darter-blue]

Okay, so someone I dearly love has asked me for a little helpful advice on how to get started writing. I take this as an ENORMOUS compliment because - well,,, you know me, anyway, focus, sorry. Okay.

So.

This was this question, about a brilliant set of ideas that have been put to paper and are desperate to be made into a fic:

‘I think we actually want to try and write it but....how???? Do you have any quick tips for me?’

And I do!

Okay let me start with the first and it is this -

There is no right or wrong way to write.

There is no process that is a holy grail. Everyone is different and everyone works differently and it’s so important to know that if something is not working for you - try something new. Don’t give up. Just shift to a new process. And keep shifting until you find your stride

(this is especially true of how and were you write, listen to music or alone in a quiet room, in marathon 3 hour sessions or do 2 x 20 min sprints in a week. Its totally up to you).

That said, there are a lot of really helpful writing aids out there, that are free, and easily accessible if you have a computer or a library card, and you can and should look at websites/books that give you tips for the following:

formatting

grammar

syntax

rhythm

Try something like this: https://firstmanuscript.com/format-dialogue/ which is laid out really well and gives you amazing tips on how to write dialogue

Or this: https://www.grammarly.com/blog/active-vs-passive-voice/ which is a great and easily understandable way to improve your active voice over passive (which will make your writing snappier and sharper)

Okay and I’ll prefix the rest by saying - this is helpful tips on my process, and  what works for me - so take that with a grain of salt because - as I said before - everyone is different. Remember that.

Write a plan or a map.

At the very least - if you are not a map/plan kind  of person... Write down three things, the beginning, the middle, and the end. It’s really important that you have an end in place -and that can be as simple as ‘They get together’ especially if it’s stucky or a similar ship.

What your reader wants is a narrative that follows a thread - and that will weave its way back to itself. Even if its a simple romance or rom com, have the characters work their way to some kind of resolution that was obvious from the beginning. and a map - even a really basic one - is the easiest way to make that happen.

Flesh out your characters

Write a character dossier, even a super simple one, even for fanfic.

You want your characters to seem real and relatable. And the best way to do that is to give them a background - even a quick one. And then give them a unique voice, way of speaking (use your dialogue or internal voice) and make them behave in ways that seem realistic and understandable with respect to the world in your story.

World build

This can be really simple, it doesn’t have to be about sci fi or magic or anything - just give your characters a place to live - give the background some depth.

If you’re in a coffee shop - make sure you show how the coffee shop works, what it looks like, who else works there, give some indication of whether its a good or bad place to work, to drink coffee, is it busy or quiet? Do the other staff love or hate their jobs? Is there that one customer who is always there in the back corner and you just bring him bottomless cups of tea all day and he tips like crazy... little things like this will make your readers feel like they are in a real place. Which makes the whole fic seem more real.

Show, dont tell...

This is the biggest one for me. Don’t just start out your fic with a big list of what happened or where you are. Weave it into the action and the dialogue slowly.

Don’t just tell - ‘Steve is a lawyer for a big corporation and he hates his job. It makes him unhappy.’

Show - ‘Steve is dreading going back to the office today. He doesn’t want to have to play nice with his boss, he doesn’t want to have to smile at his clients who he knows are guilty. He’s dreading it so much it makes his stomach hurt.’

Okay and the hardest one to get used to as a new writer -

Find a POV (point of view) and Tense and be consistent

I recommend third person limited. This means you write from that persons point of view and see, think, feel, only what they see, think and feel. You cant see or hear the other characters thoughts or feelings about something. You can’t physically see something happening that is not within your characters viewpoint.

You can switch between characters as long as you have a delineated break - and let the reader know you are switching (I always give a heading for a new character)

I also recommend you use present tense - it’s much easier to keep consistent. But it’s totally up to the individual. Just make sure you don’t change it (and a beta reader can help you with this)

So.

That feels like a lot of information to throw at you, let me give you a really quick list of what you need to do to start -

Map out your beginning, middle and end

Choose your main character and your POV (which one will tell the story best, who will have the most emotional impact - do you want to switch and see both POV? think about who the real main character is, who is most of the action happening to)

Choose your secondary characters and give them some backstory - especially about how they are connected to the main characters.

Choose a setting and give it detail.

Start writing - get your ideas down.

Read your dialogue out loud so you know it sounds like something you would really say.

Go back and edit later

Research things you’re not sure about - but also you can just say >check science< or >which restaurant< and come back to it later to keep your ideas flowing.

Send it to someone who is happy to look over it for you and help you edit (but only once you have edited it yourself and made it as clean and sharp as possible)

Be super proud of yourself for the  amazing thing you have just done.

Post it to tumblr or ao3 if - and only if - you want to.

Okay. Well... I hope this was helpful!

Come ask me anything about any of it! I’m happy to elaborate.

And good luck!!!!!!

[thedumpsterqueen]

Standards of Performance, Chapter 3: Boundaries and Text Messages

Regular weekly update! Look at me go! This one took me ages to write for absolutely no reason, and then ages to edit because the AO3 text editor kicked my ass. Hopefully the formatting isn’t a dumpster fire, and hopefully you enjoy! Sidenote: you are always welcome to scream about Hotch, nsforwork or not, in my inbox.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

AO3 Link

Summary:  You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter: 3, Boundaries and Text Messages

Chapter Summary: You discover that the unsub isn't what he seems, and overstep some boundaries you probably shouldn't have.

Words: 2291

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

Back in Hotch’s hotel room, the three of you were sitting on the ground, surrounded by textbooks and torn-out pages covered in the seemingly mindless scrawls of the suspect. Well, you and Morgan were on the floor; Hotch was at the desk chair. Hotch wasn’t really a sit-on-the-floor type of person.

Morgan groaned and rubbed his temples for the third time in an hour. “It means nothing, man. He researched all this shit so he could commit the crimes in a way that would fuck with us.”

Hotch sighed and nodded in agreement. “It certainly seems that way. That explains the inconsistencies in the profile. However, we can still understand the subject by the signatures he chose.” He pointed to a scribbled note in a textbook section about the psychology surrounding different methods of murder: “Slashing throat? Effective + easy.”

He looked at you. “What can this note tell us about our subject?”

“Um, it doesn’t sound like the cause of death is important to him. Like it’s just something he needs to do. A necessity. Right?” you responded, somewhat unprepared for this sort of pop quiz.

“Exactly. And this tells us more about him. This isn’t about the kill; it’s about what he does beforehand. It’s about the rape,” Hotch said. “Don’t be so humble. You know more than you think you do.”

Your face felt hot, and you looked at the floor - an increasingly regular occurrence around him.

Morgan spoke up, still visibly exasperated. “If he spent so much time trying to throw us off, why did he pick victims that were so easy to tie to him?”

“He’s an idiot?” you offered before you could stop yourself.

Really professional. Holy shit, please shut up.

The faintest trace of a smirk graced Hotch’s face. “You’re not entirely wrong. He isn’t particularly intelligent, based on the information we’ve gathered so far. Not nearly as complex as we initially assumed.”

“Yeah, well, either way, he’s a nut. And Gracia can’t find anything about where he might be, and I’m starving,” Morgan said, standing up. “I’m gonna pick something up. You guys want anything?”

“Get me whatever looks good,” replied Hotch, focused on whatever written ramblings he was currently dissecting.

“You?” Morgan asked you.

“Just get me whatever you get him,” you said. “Thanks, Morgan.”

Morgan nodded and grabbed his jacket. “Be back soon.”

He closed the door, leaving you alone with your boss that you definitely didn’t have an erotic dream about the night before. You tried to focus on the textbook, but the words swam. After a few minutes, you huffed and set the book down.

“Shouldn’t we be looking for him right now instead of reading his weird psychobabble?”

Hotch looked up from his work with a raised eyebrow.

You continued, “I just mean, isn’t it more important to stop him from killing again? We already know he did it based on the stuff he wrote in the books, we don’t need to fully understand his motivations to confirm that.”

“Yes,” Hotch said, “but these offenders rarely cease their behavior out of nowhere. His appetite is alarming; he took three victims at once. We don’t know if those were even his first assaults or kills. Given that Garcia couldn’t locate any family or friends, we have no idea where he might be, so our time is best spent learning how to predict his actions and respond if someone else goes missing.”

He was correct, of course, but it just didn’t feel right - like you were sitting and waiting for something terrible to happen before you could do anything. Hotch must have sensed your frustration, because he leaned forward towards you, elbows resting on his knees, and continued in a slightly softer tone, “I know you feel helpless. We all do in situations like these. But trust me, we’re accomplishing more here than we would be trying to canvas the entire city.”

“I know,” you mumbled. “You’re right. It’s just, seeing the photos of those girls, knowing the type of person that’s out there, it’s hard to convince myself I’m doing enough just sitting here.”

“You’re not just sitting here, and you know that,” Hotch said, sternly. “You’re doing your job. People will die with or without us; our job isn’t to save them. It’s to catch the people that kill them.”

“But how do you deal with it?” you asked, growing more bold than you probably should be. You weren’t just asking about this case anymore, and you weren’t sure whether or not you wanted him to understand that. You wanted to ask him how he did it - how he woke up every morning alone, how he suffered an unimaginable loss at the hands of some of the purest evil society could produce and went back to the job that showed him more of that evil every day.

Judging by the hard set of his jaw, he knew exactly what you were getting at.

“I do it because I have to,” he said. Every word sounded measured, like he was explaining something he had dozens of times before.

“You don’t,” you whispered, but you knew you were wrong, at least to him. You knew he felt it was his responsibility to shoulder the burden so other families didn’t have to experience what he did. You had a background in psychology, and this was pretty low hanging fruit. A therapist would have a field day with him, but you weren’t a therapist, and you certainly weren’t in any position to tell your boss, a leader with decades of experience in the field, that he shouldn’t be taking all of this on.

He evidently didn’t find your comment worthy of a response, as he went back to picking through the pile of evidence. You’d hit a nerve though - his posture was more rigid, his almost-permanent scowl even more pronounced. The tension built with every second of silence, and you suddenly wished you could go back and erase the conversation.

Thinking better of trying to repair the damage you’d done, you kept the subsequent conversation focused on the profile. By the time Morgan got back, you had a fairly good idea of the suspect’s psychology, and after a quick break for fried rice and a video chat with the team, JJ set up to deliver a press conference from the police precinct in Vegas. Hotch switched on the news on the hotel TV, and you sat back to watch.

“The man currently suspected of committing the triple homicide that left bodies here in Vegas, in Phoenix, and in San Diego is an obsessive sexual predator,” JJ said to a waiting crowd of reporters and police. “He displays characteristics of a stalker, and women who interact with him may describe him as creepy or off-putting. Though murder is not his ultimate goal - in fact, he may not be completely comfortable with the act - he views it as a necessary step to dispose of his victims post-assault.”

“Do we usually do this?” you whispered to Morgan, “Release the whole profile publicly?”

“Nah, but with this guy, we want him to know we’re onto him,” he said back, trying not to disturb Hotch, who was watching JJ’s address intently. “He put so much effort into throwing us off, we gotta let him know we see through his bullshit. It’s the only play we got right now, considering we got no idea where he is.”

You turned back to the screen, where JJ had moved on to talking about the suspect. “His name is Ellory Matthews,” she said, holding up his ID photo. “He’s a 24 year old white male, about 5’9” and 200 pounds. We have strong reason to suspect he is involved and currently trying to evade the police. He is considered armed and extremely dangerous, so if you see him, please do not approach and call 911 immediately.”

Hotch, apparently having heard enough, stood up and turned off the TV. “Hopefully someone has seen him and can tell us where he is. If not, this should be enough to scare him into making a mistake.”

You tried not to think about the fact that a mistake still probably involved someone being hurt or killed.

“Get some rest. I’ll clean up here. Morgan, before you head to bed, call Garcia again and see if she’s found anything that can point us to where he might be.”

“Got it, I’ll let you know. Night, Hotch,” Morgan said.

You echoed Morgan and headed back to your room.

____________

After getting ready and tucking into bed, you found yourself completely unable to fall asleep. The conversation with Hotch kept replaying in your head - how resentful he’d looked when you asked him how he does his job, knowing that you were asking about it in relation to his family members’ deaths. He was a reasonable man, and you knew you hadn’t done anything wrong on the surface, but you shouldn't have pushed it, especially since the events you were referencing had been relayed to you by JJ in private. You weren’t even sure he wanted you to know about what happened to his wife and kid.

Shit, I might have really fucked up.

You rolled over and yanked your phone off the charger, and before you had time to convince yourself it was a bad idea, you sent him a message.

Me: Hey, sorry to bother you, I know it’s late. I just wanted to apologize if I offended you during our conversation earlier. You’re an incredible agent and boss and I didn’t mean to imply you shouldn’t be in the field for any reason.

You scrolled through Instagram mindlessly, waiting for his response, but he texted back almost immediately. Knowing him, he hadn’t even made an attempt to go to bed; he was probably still up reviewing the case.

Agent Hotchner: I understand. No need to apologize. I knew you’d hear about what happened sooner or later, and it’s natural to question my judgement, considering. I hope my actions in the field haven’t done anything to lend credence to that concern.

A weight lifted from your shoulders at his response, knowing he wasn’t angry with you.

Me: No, not at all, Sir. You and the team have been incredible and I’ve already learned so much. If I ask a question, please know it’s for my own learning rather than questioning your decisions!

Agent Hotchner: I’m glad to hear that. Please always feel free to ask questions.

Me: Thank you so much! Will do!

Satisfied with conversation, you set the phone back on the nightstand and rolled over. A few moments later, though, it buzzed again, and you looked at the screen.

Agent Hotchner: “Sir” is a little formal for text messages though, isn’t it?

You blinked, struggling to process the tone of the message. Was Aaron Hotchner making a joke? You messaged him back hesitantly.

Me: Can never be too formal! :) Is there something you’d prefer?

Agent Hotchner: Oh, I’m sure you can figure something out.

Your eyes widened at that, and you sat up in bed, staring at your screen. If you thought he was messing with you before, this was more; this was almost… flirting.

Ok, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here, you thought, trying to calm your embarrassingly high heart rate. He’s older. Way older. He probably doesn’t text that much, and he probably doesn’t realize how that came off.

Me: I’ll let you know when I do.

Agent Hotchner: Please do. Sleep well.

You placed the phone back on the bedside table, almost shaking with adrenaline. What was wrong with you lately? First you have a sex dream about your boss (who’s old enough to be your parent, you might add), and now you’re freaking out because he texted you something that could possibly be, in some interpretations, construed as flirting.

Hotch was attractive, of course. You’d have to be an idiot not to admit that. He was handsome in a way you didn’t see often - not the obvious, in-your-face stunning like Morgan was, or even the adorable, put-together look that Reid gave off. Hotch was old-school handsome, like he should be in a black and white movie smoking a cigarette while his doting wife made him dinner.

Or something. It’s not like you’d thought about this before.

But even if he was handsome to such a degree that seeing him with two buttons on his dress shirt undone nearly gave you a heart attack, leaning into this fantasy you were unconsciously creating where your relationship was anything more than boss and intern had the potential to destroy your career. Hotch could read people like a book, and if you were unable to conduct yourself normally and effectively at work for any reason, your internship and aspirations would be tossed out to the street.

Time to stop being an idiot.

Sometime during your mental dissection of the text conversation and its implications, you must have fallen asleep. You were awoken to a still-dark room and someone gently squeezing your shoulder, saying your name.

“Wha- oh, it’s you. I’m so sorry, did I miss something? What’s going on?” you asked, still not fully conscious.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Hotch replied, standing over you. You were suddenly thankful for the dark room and the blanket that were covering your lack of pants. “I tried calling you and knocking, but you didn’t respond. I figured you’d forgotten to turn your ringer on.”

“Shit, yeah, I did. I’m so sorry,” you said, sitting up. “What did you need?”

“It’s Ellory Matthews. Police caught him trying to kidnap another girl. He’s in custody.”

[bonvoyagenoona]

sorry for sounding rude, but im curious as to how you’re able to consistently write and post such long chapters/long one shots? like, how do you even find the time to do it in between your schedules, on top of all of the research and planning/outlining that goes into each story? (because your detail and accuracy is incredible)

Not rude at all! I'm so touched and grateful that you reached out! I ended up having a lot of really fun thoughts and shared them below! I could talk about writing all day. I just love it so much! Thanks again for prompting the conversation!

Consistency...?

I’m kinda floored that you think I’m consistent? I don’t think I am. I’m always blown away by writers who keep to a consistent writing and posting schedule, and they’re so great at cultivating collective excitement for new installments! I experimented with this for Like Butter, challenging myself to write a chapter a day leading up to Butter’s release. Experimenting with this for Kittenfishing, so we’ll see how it goes (and apologies in advance for the inevitable delays lol)! Otherwise, I kind of just write and post whenever I feel like it.

Structure

@mochilatae (hi Roomie!) and I talk about structure a ton! And it’s making me remember some things I thought about when answering this ask about how I started writing. I tend to read standalone novels, memoirs, and movie/TV/play scripts. I learned about writing within those structures. Novels certainly influenced my wordiness. Memoirs and scripts probably explain my approach to detail, as well as my dialogue- and internal monologue-heavy style. I imagine my preferences and tendencies would look quite different if I gravitated more toward poetry, short stories, or series. And now I’m curious! Are you a writer? What are your influences? Do you think their structures as well as their content have impacted your style?

I also did a LOT of academic writing in grad school. Publish or perish. My research training was in cognitive psychology, which follows APA formatting. Every psychology paper has the same core sections: Intro, Methods, Results, Discussion, and Conclusion. That, along with the A/B/C-plot script structure, are foundational to each of my stories, though I am trying to experiment with switching that up! Also, scientific writing hinges upon creating an argument based on a mix of theory and evidence (vs. pure philosophy or emotional persuasion). I think that’s impacted my style; I feel like I need to pepper in details like “data” throughout my stories so that by the time you get to the “conclusion”, you can see whether the “hypotheses” created in the premise hold up or not.

But I also want to say long and detailed aren’t always better! Regardless of the style, my favorite works are written in a way that best serves the story that is being told. Knowing my proclivities for wordiness and a quick pace, @mochilatae gave me some great nudges on staying present within a scene and fulfilling its potential. If you haven’t already, check her out! She’s an absolute QUEEN at this! I’m always aiming to stay honest in every moment that is created, and I’ve taken that particular feedback to heart whether I’m writing a drabble or a longfic! 

And I think that’s another strong point. Talking about writing with fellow writers and readers has given me the most joy. Being in this kind of creative communal space has sent me to places I never thought I’d travel to, so naturally, my writing has evolved because of it. Even this conversation is making me think about my structure, and in such a fun way!

Time

Ah, that definitely ebbs and flows. Sometimes, I feel like I’m super productive. Other times, I’m busy or just not feeling it. During the worst times, I get burned out. I definitely got burned out a couple of times over the past year. But with the help of all the positive people in this fanfic community, I’ve been kinder to myself. I’ve actually come to accept and appreciate the burn out! Sometimes I use that time to catch up on things I’m naturally interested in, and in more than a few instances, that has ended up being accidental research for my stories! It’s hard to see it when we’re in it, but slowing down often does wonders for us. After resting and taking care of myself, even indulging myself in other ways, I come out the other end of it bursting with new ideas for you! 

And I don’t know if you had this in mind when you asked, but as far as the speed of getting the ideas on the page, I have a purely anecdotal theory: I think knowing how to play a musical instrument helps? I play piano and a number of other instruments. I was taught how to channel thoughts and emotions into a physical medium that translated them into an auditory medium that then presented those thoughts and emotions to others for interpretation. I think about that process often, and I hope that comes across in my writing. I’ve also noticed that manual dexterity helps my fingers work quickly and fluidly. (I mean, this is why Yoongi’s hand kink is a thing, right??) So I feel like that skill has helped me build quite a natural connection between my brain and my hands. I communicate better through the written words; I type the way I think. 

Now, I wonder if my theory has been studied. It would be cool to run an experiment to see if seasoned musicians vs. non-musicians differ in typing speed and accuracy, communicativeness, or maybe even idea generation. You could even have musical subgroups, like piano vs. percussion vs. strings vs. winds to see if type of musical training and required muscle movements influences those possible relationships! It’s times like this I miss my lab lol.

I swear I’m done lol

Anyway, thank you so much for the ask! It wasn’t rude by any means. In fact, it was incredibly kind! I sometimes worry I'm too long-winded, too detailed, much like in real life and as evidenced by this post lol. And I worry that those traits make me inaccessible. But I guess this just goes to show you that the things that you think are flaws are just differences that others will appreciate. It’s a vast world; there are so many people out here who are waiting and excited to connect with you, and I’m one of them! 💜

[motherfingtitan]

For the writing request, can I get some rutherford angst?

Hang in There Baby Bear

Rutherford remembers his bond with Shax and thinks about how much he misses him.

Rutherford thought that his memories returning would be a joyous occasion. It was to a point, a full year of memories finally came flooding back just two weeks after he received his new implant. Tendi nearly cried when he finally remembered their friendship. Heck, he started going out on holodeck dates more with her to make up for lost time.  Each day, more memories were unearthed. 

Second contact and the zombies,

The Dog,

Stealing all those tricorders with the purple stripe,

Phasey Boimler,

Mariners holodeck program,

Badgy,

Switching divisions,

Having a bond with Shax,

Shax….

Rutherford never joined security. Though his defense skills were amazing, he knew he belonged in engineering. Shax was proud of him for staying true to himself and the pair still had a bond long after. It wasn't too noticeable to the other members of the crew, but Shax did have a soft spot for Rutherford. There were little smiles and nods to each other in the hallways, and Shax still gave him defense training. He loved engineering, and he was Billups right-hand man, but security always had a tighter bond. The bear pack as a result of Shaxs boisterous personality, something Billups was too timid to attempt. Even when was in engineering, he felt a bond with security.

But then the Pakleds attacked.

With Peanut Hamper abandoning the crew at the last second, Rutherford volunteered to deliver the virus to the ship. Shax then took it upon himself to protect Rutherford as he downloaded the viruses onto the Pakleds computer. Then badgy threatened to blow up the entire ship. Rutherford didn't remember much after that, he just felt excruciating pain as Shax pulled his implant out.

The last words he heard as he faded out of consciousness were "Hang in there baby bear"

Rutherford learned of Shaxs faith shortly after recovering his memories. Tendi was still overjoyed that his memories were back, bouncing around and laughing in 10 forward. After she calmed down, Rutherford knew what he had to ask. 

"Tendi," he took a deep breath "what happened to Shax?"

Tendis face dropped and she paused for a moment. She picked up her glass and gulped down her bright purple drink, trying to think of how to explain what happened. Looking into his eyes, she finally told him how Shax had died in the explosion. He tossed Rutherford into the shuttlecraft and pushed it out of the ship's hull before it blew up. She talked about the funeral that happened as Rutherford was recovering and how distraught the command crew was, especially T'ana.

"Oh," he simply said, gazing down into his glass of water, staring at his reflection and the ripples the water made.

He didn't let his emotions take over his work, but tonight, just like every night for the past week, he lay awake in his bunk, silently staring at the ceiling as tears rolled down the right side of his face. He remembered their father-son type relationship. Rutherford remembered how he never got to say goodbye or thank you. When he would go up to the bridge for duties, it just seemed emptier. The new Chief of Security was a Betazoid-Human hybrid. She was quite nice and did her job very well, but she lacked the zest that Shax had. There was no more boisterous laughing or yelling about ejecting Warp Cores. Rutherford missed it, and he missed him. 

Turning on his side, Rutherford tried to fall asleep, tears still pooling on his cheek. As he slowly lost consciousness, he remembered the last thing Shax said to him.

"Hang in there baby bear"

Sorry if my formatting is a bit off, I'm still getting used to using Tumblr for longer text posts. Thank you so much for your submission. I really like doing prompts like these because it helps me improve my skills for different genres of writing, plus I love sharing what I write.

[sanstropfremir]

it's kingdom time for real!!! the first episode is here and mnet finally uploaded the stages from like a month ago so i can actually watch them more than once to review.

happy to see them all actually performing. not the most interesting stages overall, but it was the 100sec one-take so i wasn’t expecting anything crazy. like the performance stages, this is about what i expected at this point in the show.

ranking under the cut, i have Opinions(tm) and they are not all pretty.

(anyone that’s seeing this for the first time, i’m a trained performance designer with over 30 credits and a decade of experience, yes i can talk about this with authority)

a few general notes:

this type of stage that mnet has built is called a traverse, or alley, stage. named exactly for the reason you think. it’s characterized by a narrow playing space with audience on opposite sides, and two entrances on either end. so mnet had a pretty typical setup. there are some advantages to this type of stage:

because of the narrow stage space and usually smaller audience capacity, the performer and audience are in much closer proximity

because of the shape of the space, blocking (choreography but for not-dance) can travel well and be very dynamic

it’s uncommon outside of midsize/small productions so there’s some novelty for the casual theatre goer

however! there are some pitfalls with this type of stage. the hardest type of stage to work with is (theatre) in the round. theatre in the round is characterized by being....in the round. that means the audience is placed 360 degrees around the playing space. which means that they can see everything; every entrance, every exit, every performer’s back, 360 degree sightlines means there is nowhere to hide. and in a medium that relies on concealment to create magic, it’s a tough stage to work with. not saying it doesn’t work. some of the most incredible shows i’ve been to have been theatre in the round, but when you go to those type of shows, as an audience member you understand that there will be some scenes where you only see the actors’ backs. there is no perfect seat in the round. the reverse is true as well, the actors can only act to those in front of them. and like i stated previously, on the production end it becomes difficult to hide things like props/set/costume changes that you might have been able to in another type of theatre. why am i talking about theatre in the round? because traverse works on exactly the same principle. even though the audience is only on two sides, the same issues still arise. directionality is key: a director has to be careful of how exactly the stage gets blocked.

why am i talking about stage formats? because the space always informs the performance, that’s why. i think mnet made a sort of smart choice to build a traverse stage. since the ‘audience’ is a video camera, that eliminates the need to play to the opposing seating banks, and opens up more staging opportunities. it’s a fancy looking stage that does what they need it to. 

now here’s my gripes. if you’re going to specifically orient a stage so that it is by nature directional, why are you broadcasting in a format where direction doesn’t matter? if the camera has no fixed position, then you’ve just skipped directly into in the round staging without taking into account the function of the space. it's a round peg in a square hole; yes it fits, but you can see the spaces where it doesn’t quite match up. for a very obvious example, any shot that is not staring directly down the barrel of the stage from left or right has audience in it. and not enough to be worthy of a reaction shots (because those are just cut in in post), but enough to just be there. why would you do that when you could just.....not? just go properly in the round and then you wouldn’t have that distraction. especially when the audience is wearing white. also, there are only so many ways you can stage on a traverse, you’re pretty much limited to directional points on a compass, because there are literal risers in the way. because of the way most groups are choreographed, the member layouts lean more towards having the members in a line than they do layering the members deep. this configuration is fine on a proscenium stage (which is what most stages are), and would even be fine on a traverse stage if you were playing to the risers. you could even do some interesting choreo alterations. but! because mnet has decided that the camera is perpendicular to the risers, that means that most of the formations are not optimized for the stage dimensions and are in fact the opposite dimensions. most of these groups are doing their longest blocking across the shortest area of stage, which is dumb. although it isn't much of a problem because the stage is still very large, but it's still a bizarre choice on behalf of mnet. why would you not arrange the stage so you have more clearance for the camera, the audience, and also the performers? i would have to check back over the rtk performances, but im pretty sure at one point they switch to an in the round stage. why are you not doing that from the start? this would also allow for more built setpieces. although it does remain to be seen if they do switch after this episode, since this particular challenge was a one-take with minimal props/set pieces. which segues to my next point: these groups barely took up the parameters of the challenge, or utilized them effectively! this is also mnet’s fault, mnet if you say that you’re gonna do a one-take, don't cut between seven other cameras!! show us the power of that single point of view! let the groups actually do some interesting blocking with the path of the camera! there’s so many interesting things they could have done, but no!! had to be boring!! i know this is technically an introductory stage, but i also don't care. these groups have (relatively) competent ADs and stylists, they can think outside the box.

ok now here’s my actual rankings:

1. btob

sorry babies, none of you can match them vocally. love you ateez but you sure fucked up picking them to go after you because they blew you out of the fucking water. and everyone else, but ateez cumulatively is the weakest vocally. more on that later. like the performance stage they showcased their strengths and the experience (and training) shows. good use of the directional stage having three vs one that came together in the middle. loved the white suit variations, im especially a sucker for a belted suit jacket. loved peniel's gigantic trench and massive earrings, very mid 90s, his stylist definitely took a lesson in how to accessorize very short hair. always love good use of fog. uniform colour theme, all elements were there to support the vocals. no complaints, chef’s kiss.

2. ikon

hey baby groups? see bobby having fun? do that more. i know you think performance face is sexy and serious but none of you know how to act and you all look dead inside on stage. the lights may be on but nobody’s home. anyways. excellent beginning formation, excellent ending formation, no complicated position changes that make the camera give you motion sickness. fun choreo that they are obviously having fun performing, which goes sooooo far in the success of a performance. only group so far to use silence as an effective device, and the arrangement was interesting and suited to the song+performance. i think it was smart of them not to deploy bobby right away, although it would have been funny to watch after whatever it was that stray kids was trying to do. again, like btob and also sf9, sticking to their strengths. costumes fun and fitting, indicative of both the colour of the group and of the song. nice detail in the monochrome and the black accent details.

3. sf9

taeyang is that bitch and they only way this would have been better is if he had actually grabbed the ties of those two other members (if you think i am going to remember anyone's names other than the people i already know you are wrong). love the confidence to waste a good chunk of your 90 seconds for walking and standing in formation. actual good use of one-take directional camera, even though they ruined it once they started dancing. choreo perfectly fine, lighting good complementary colour scheme, costumes nothing to write home about, surprisingly good projection design? wasn’t expecting that. im not the biggest fan white suit jackets over black shirts but ill give it a pass for the proper suit accessorizing.

4. ateez

i applaud your dedication to the pirate gimmick but boys you don't need that anymore, i promise. hongjoong's lil bloody cough was a fun gag that didn't draw too much attention but fit with the theme. came out of the gate strong with an actual clear narrative, which can be a challenge to do in 100 seconds, and the only group to have a narrative. also actual camera choreo! that was interesting! mnet stop fucking cutting to overhead shots! apparently im destined to always be beefing with the ateez stylists because what was the point of all that? very little variation in texture or pattern on matte all black just made any relevant details disappear. torch gimmick and end formation fun, and the arrangement had an obvious climax. weird and kinda fun projection design, but not helped by concert-style stage lighting. pick one or the other lighting designer, don't make them fight like that! props to them for actually having their mics on the whole time, even though they are probably the weakest group vocally. im also going to be beefing with the choreographer because they are always making seonghwa sing while doing ridiculous moves that make him go offkey. ateez has some of the stronger 4th gen vocals, but they're at a disadvantage because a) none of them have proper vocal training, and b) their main vocal is not actually a skilled singer and is destroying his voice.not a lot of vocals for them to showcase this stage and that was probably for the best. hanya (@changdyke) is in charge of vocals critique and will have more to say about this than me, even though i am also trained. im just here to talk about the production.

5. the boyz

im neutral to positive on tbz because i did really like their danger stage from rtk. this performance is just....fine. I don’t like the arrangement, but that's mostly personal opinion. but it doesn't have a conclusive end and the whole dissonance thing isn't really working for me in this instance. the choreo is quite flippy and tricking is not necessary for an interesting choreo. i did like the throwback/use of modern choreo, i think that's a strong choice for them and it's not something that many other groups are doing, so they should stick more to that than to tricking. the camera choreo is also not good. here’s where the clearance issues and fighting against the stage layout happen! stop making a handheld do a 180! are you trying to make us motion sick? to be fair, this is not the most egregious one, but at least ateez got it right by having a person lead the camera in a particular pattern. also, what even is the theme here? leatherclad boys in the forest? nobody give me any shit saying it's based off one of their music videos or whatever, that shouldn't matter. there should be a clear theme that can be easily identified without prior knowledge of the group, especially when this is an introductory stage and they are a relatively young group. none of the other groups have this issue. that being said, at least the costumes were interesting to look at, although thematically confusing. good use of accessories, texture, and bedazzling to make the black stand out against the stage. the hands in front of the camera were kind of fun but didnt really mean anything? again, back to the lack of clear concept. i did like them reaching out to pull that member forward, it would have been better if they had just left it at that.

6. stray kids

the more i watch this the more i hate it. im not even sorry about it anymore. starters, and i will admit this upfront: i do not like most 4th gen music, so the spiderman meme groups are already operating on a deficit in my point of view. and i particularly did not like this arrangement. same as with tbz, why did it not have a conclusive end? also overuse of sound effects. and stop saying your fucking band name! the only musician that’s allowed to do that is jason derulo and thats because hes a meme now. but twice in 100 seconds? no. and what was the point of that logo/crown reveal? im tired of crown reveals we have seen them so many times by now, we don't need to see it again. was it meant to be that they were carving it into the ground?? very unclear. there was an attempt with camera choreo, and i will admit that the pan up and then back down to the ‘wolf pack’ was probably the strongest moment in the whole performance. the lights were in their mouths, by the way. however, the rest of the choreo is all over the map, quite literally. as with tbz there’s a lot of members in the group and so in order for everyone to get their screen time they break down into smaller groups, which i don't disagree with on principle, but here.........the breakdowns are just tricking, which although eyecatching, does not a very compelling or cohesive choreo make. even the unison choreo is weird, obviously its stylized horror but it just looks awkward and strange. you can make awkward/unattractive choreo work (see taemin’s want, or even move, to some extent)***, but skz doesn't have an ounce of the charisma that taemin has so it just looks awkward. also, that rapid switch between opposite sides of the stage? nausea inducing. ateez was the one with the pirate concept but skz apparently trying to make us seasick. im not gonna say anything about that rap other than it was bad, why was that allowed on stage. the sparkthrower was fun but that's like the 14th gimmick in this 100 second stage and that’s too many gimmicks. costumes are truly nothing to write home about, extremely unclear relation to the theme. if you're gonna be wolves then at least have some fur accents or something. the makeup effects were a bit over the top and not necessary in the actual performance. a hairdresser needs to thin out felix’s hair because he looks like he's wearing one of those lego hair helmets. oh, i did like that one guy’s shirt with the collarbone cutout, but again: how is that relevant to the theme? cmon people!!!! design the whole experience!! im sure there’s more i could write but holy shit this is long and im tired and also i don't want to watch this stage anymore.

ok im done. jesus this is long. again, this is just the intro stage so i suspect that some of my complaints will become null next week, but we’ll have to see! well, what i actually want to see is changmin insulting children but i’m not holding out hope for that to happen. hopefully we see some more spectacle-y stages and i can really go in.

***this is not me saying that taemin has a bad choreo that he’s making the best of. want is purposefully choreographed that way in order to showcase taemin’s ability. same with move. the point of want is that it IS awkward and should not be seductive or appealing and yet it still is. almost like....it’s in the name of the song or something.....

[insomniac-astronomer]

Romanogers: Trade Her Back | Ch. 2 - Steve’s Apartment

Hi there! Welcome or welcome back to this story! Since this is a part of a series, I would strongly advise you read chapter 1 here: trade-her-back-ch-1. Thank you so much for coming back to check out part 2!

Song for the chapter: “That Man” by Caro Emerald in true Peggy Carter fashion.

Enjoy!

~~~

The forties smell different. It's strange, but that's the first thing I notice. Like gasoline and smoke. Not at all what I had been expecting.

I couldn’t tell you where we are if I wanted to.

“Welcome to my old apartment.” Steve sends me one of his dorky smiles.

The building is made of brick. Six evenly-spaced weathered doors line the front of it. Steve leads me up a few concrete stairs to the end of the row of lower doors. He kicks a brick to the side revealing a key. Making quite the spectacle out of it, he unlocks the apartment and beckons me inside.

“Oh-” Steve’s voice trails off as we both stare at the wreck that is his old home. “I wouldn’t have been in here since I left for the war but that would have only been a few months ago.”

“Someone made themselves a doorway through the window,” I gesture to the smashed glass.

“Hold on.” Steve’s voice darkens as he pushes me behind him. Seriously? I shove past him and start examining the place, ready in case someone decides to attack us from around the corner.

After a few minutes of me going left and him going right, we determine that the trashed apartment is empty. Completely empty; not just of people, but of furniture and valuables as well. Whoever broke in might be on their way back here right now.

“Board up that window with something. Make sure that everywhere else is still secure. And why the hell did you think it was a good idea to leave your key under a brick?” I speed back to the front door, locking it tightly and testing it’s integrity a few times, just to make sure.

“Only Bucky knew I kept the key under there.” Steve says back as he picks up a piece of the broken couch to place on the window.

“It’s not that hard to find.” I mutter as I begin testing light switches. All of them seem to be working, as the lights are slowly warming up and I haven’t started an electrical fire yet.

A few moments of strange silence pass over us as we work on straightening up the place and testing some of the appliances. Unsurprisingly, everything seems to be in working order, there’s even a small carton of milk in the fridge.

Steve and I have always been a chatty pair. I don’t think I’ve ever realized that till now, when we haven’t spoken in at least twenty minutes. Superhero work is tough, but when you’re with your team, there’s a certain unspoken agreement not to mention any hardships unless we have to. Keep the mood light, you know? That’s maybe why this quiet feels unfamiliar to me.

“What do we do now?” I ask to break the silence.

Steve gives me a confused look, almost gesturing to the pile of rubble he was sorting through.

“I mean after we finish cleaning. You jumped us to the forties, did you have a plan in mind?” I try to make my tone sarcastic and teasing but given the solemn mood we’re both in, I don’t think it transfers.

“It’s Saturday.” Steve says quietly. I’ve never seen this man so deep in thought, even back when Wanda had put that nightmare in his mind.

Suddenly, I remember. “Your dance with Peggy.”

He nods.

I want to say something to comfort him. Yes, we went back in time for this but he deserves to be happy for once. Even if it’s just an artificial sort of forties-haze joy. Although, he’s already seen her at ninety years old. Hell, he went to her funeral, saw her body.

Oh, that’s messed up. He said at eight right?

“You’d better get ready Prince Charming, the sun’s starting to set.” I smirk. “Don’t want to show up looking like you just made out with her niece or anything.”

Steve sends me a glare, though I finally see a small smile fight it’s way onto his face. “You know what Romanoff --”

“What? I didn’t say a bad language word.” My snarky facial expression turns into a grin.

“Just for that, you’d better have this whole place cleaned by the time I get back.” He says, standing and brushing some brick dust off his pants.

I roll my eyes. “Please, I’ll leave you some of the fun.”

~~~

Steve left a few minutes ago. He told me not to leave the apartment because, well, can you imagine what would happen if I walked down a street in the 1940s wearing a skin-tight suit? But besides that, he’s right. Life was different back . . . now, and I would probably behave like an alien to them.

The kitchen and living room have now been swept out and all the bits of rubble removed. Steve was able to salvage the couch cushions and set them up like a children’s fort-style floor couch. Since everything in the kitchen was mostly in working order, that looks almost normal. If you don’t count the fact that there is no table or chairs.

There is no TV, just a small radio to entertain me. Fantastic.

Although, I did just come back from the dead so maybe it would be alright for me to rest my neck for a minute or two. I lay down on the floor couch. Just a couple minutes and then I’ll keep cleaning. Steve should be --

I don’t know where I am. A strange orange material seems to be covering my eyes. I reach my hands up to remove it, only to find that the material is surrounding me. It’s like I’m walking through an orange snow globe if all of the snow had transformed into a million complicated crystalized patterns.

What is happening? And why does it feel like I’m walking through quicksand?

Before any of my questions are answered, the orange world flashes brightly, and there is only darkness.

~~~

I can’t believe Tumblr formatted this all for me. I wrote it on a Doc with indents and everything, this is fantastic. Anywho, sorry this took so long to write out, it’s about three letter-sized pages in length so. Let me know if I got the characters right or otherwise, I’m very open to constructive criticism.

Quick question: I’m plopping my masterlist into my bio for now, but does anyone know how to get it on the dashboard of options? Like where the asks and archive buttons are. Thanks :)

I have also now actually opened my asks so if you have something specific you would like me write, jump in and send me something. Check my bio for fandoms and masterlist for the post with guidelines if you would like to submit something!

One last thing, I’m going to attempt to make this story somewhat interactive with the lovely romanogers community reading it. Go follow my instagram _lenamarieanne to answer polls and other things that will affect not only chapter lengths but possible characters and story events!

Thank you so much for reading! Much happiness and sunshine to you! ~Lena Marie Anne

P.S. Feel free to drop a like, leave a comment, or do a re-blog. I will respond to any comments!

[samwritesforyou]

can the sinner get a happy ending?

Fandom: Code Geass

Summary: nunnally decides to clear lelouch’s name and lelouch - conveniently - around that time decides to visit his sister in disguise, because he just misses her so much. but what happens when he learns that people for some reason can’t remember him as a bloody emperor?

A/N: this fic is turning out to be longer than 15k already, so i will post only one part here, as of.. a “prologue”, or just a feel for you to what this story might bring with it. the rest i will upload on ao3! im really proud of this work :D enjoy!

also... im finally coming back to my favourite formatting of this “description” part for the fics, finally :D its been a mess last four fics, sorry! also sorry to everyone who doest follow me for code geass content, i will write different things too, dont worry!

Warnings: mention of a panic attack, no serious proof-reading

Wordcount: 4k (Prologue)

“Nunnally, I do not agree with this,” Suzaku said firmly, looking the empress straight in the eye, brows furrowed together.

“Suzaku-kun, I understand why you’re upset, but this will not harm the people in any capacity. I do this for my brother,” she stated just as strongly, not daring to shift her gaze elsewhere from his emerald pearls.

“But that doesn’t matter, using this power is just wrong!” he was almost yelling now, clutching his hand in the fist.

Whenever someone was talking about geass or even thought about using it, he always had severe reaction to that topic, probably due to all the trauma and suffering that it caused.

Kururugi has never had a fight with Nunnally yet, they had a calm relationship full of mutual love and trust. Despite her being Lelouch’s sister, she was never like him in any sense. And Suzaku feared the day once he’ll start to see the similarities. Despite loving his friend beyond any measure, his actions and thinking was oftentimes just.. extreme, to say the least. Extreme and dangerous, he was never supposed to gain the power he got ahold of. That’s what was going through Japanese’s mind as they were arguing with Nunnally.

She looked at him wide eyed and he could almost be able to see how the wall of trust they’d built together cracked ever so lightly, as the young empress lowered her gaze and sighed.

“Zero, this is an order. Tell Lloyd to have it ready by tomorrow,” there was such unfamiliar coldness in her tone that it made Suzaku stop in his tracks as she turned around in the wheelchair and started to drive away from him.

It was unfamiliar from her, yet.. so familiar from Lelouch.

There was hardly a day when he didn’t think of him. Either cursing him or praying to him to come back.

He didn’t wear a mask right now, because they were talking in the empress’ private rooms where no servants had access to, so he could be himself around here, yet.. yet she addressed him as Zero.

Suzaku’s green eyes shifted slowly, now looking at his feet.

He was clothed in the purple costume with gold lines, purple gloves and a white puff scarf tucked into the shirt. He hated it. He hated all of it. Every single fibre. 

He fell to his knees, breath catching in his throat and he felt the familiar dizziness coming into motion.

He was having a panic attack.

It wasn’t anything new to him and Suzaku found out that the best way to fight it is to let it flow. Let it consume him and shiver uncontrollably, salty tears falling from his eyes onto the red carpet as he bowed his head to the floor.

He was alone possibly in the whole floor so there would be no one watching. No one acknowledging how much pain this human being has to endure, when his only wish is to die.. and when he can’t possibly even do that.

When he finally felt the convulsions stop and dizziness drifted away he sat up on the ground, lifting a hand to his face with a sigh that echoed through the richly decorated halls.

“What a fucking day,” man whispered to himself, slowly getting up and taking the mask of Zero, putting it on, feeling the material close surely around his head so no one could possible guess his true identity anymore.

The stare that nobody could see was deprived of any emotion. Now he was just a faceless person with a mission from the empress.

He went straight to Lloyd’s engineering wing, passing the painting of himself in the white suit as the pilot of the Lancelot, a piece of black cloth at the side of the golden frame, meaning that he’s still being mourned by the genius technician.

“Nunnally vi Britannia demands for the device to be ready by tomorrow,” he said sternly, never adjusting his cape as Lelouch always did - a waste of time and a touch that’s soaked with pretentiousness.

“Of course, Zero, your wish is my command! It’s almost ready anyways,” engineer answered, sitting alone by the table where he continued to work on some cables and connections to various pieces of metal.

He was offered to gain at least a dozen of good workers that could help him in his experiments but earl declined, saying that there’s nothing much to invent without his beautiful pilot and no grandiose war going on between Britannia and Japan anymore.

Suzaku just curtly nodded at that, staying watching him for a moment longer than necessary, just wishing he could reveal to him who he really is and that his pilot is still alive and well and could try some of his new knightmares if he ever makes some.

“Lloyd-san, it’s break time!” suddenly rung a high pitched voice through the empty working space as Cecile came closer to both of them with a little tray rattling with silverware and some food on the surface.

“Oh, Zero, I didn’t notice you come in,” she said sheepishly and smiled, pulling the tray towards him a little in an offering.

“Don’t you want to stay and have lunch with us?” she asked in her sweet voice, the one she uses when she wants to make the good impression, but Suzaku just sighed.

These two were the only people who didn’t really judge him. Even when they didn’t know his true identity, it almost seemed like they were friends like they were before. He liked spending time here, but possibly couldn’t keep them company in eating, since.. he couldn’t really take off his helmet.

“Cecile-san, you know that I mustn’t reveal my identity, hence I can’t keep you company at lunch. Only if I sat by the table without taking a single bite,” he said, a soft smile finally breaking to his lips, making the corners of his mouth go up just a little bit.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, finally realising why this offer wouldn’t work out, but then she said “oh” again and quickly made a beeline towards the main doors, locking them.

“But what if! I locked the main entrance so nobody could come in while we’re eating,” she started enthusiastically and then made another small run towards the light switch, looking with hope at her boss and then the masked man, “and we would also eat in pitch darkness, so you could finally enjoy something with acquaintances, like a normal person?” she smiled and then blinked comically, correcting herself and laughing nervously, “I’m not saying that you’re not normal, of course, I’m just. I realise that it must be hard to be wearing a mask all the time, mustn’t it?” she finished carefully, biting her lower lip.

“Cecile-kun, you’re making Zero intrigued, I think!” Lloyd barked a loud laugh, looking over at his ex-subordinate, “What do you say, Zero? I promise you no peeking!” he teased and got closer to him, wiggling his brows.

Suzaku couldn’t help himself but felt his smile growing wider at that suggestion. There really was no risk, right?

Did Cecile want to try it for a while now? Because it seems like a thought of plan, after all.

*If I keep shielding myself from others I might as well go insane sooner or later.. What’s the harm in one, pitch black lunch, right?..*

Suzaku thought to himself and then nodded.

“Okay, why not?” he said, making Cecile excitedly jump in the air and Lloyd lean deeper into his chair with a pleased hum.

“Alright! On the count of three I’ll turn off the lights and then.. hopefully make it to you guys without any problem!” she explained and on the count of three she really turned off the lights.

Suzaku wasn’t rushing in taking off his helmet, at first waiting for Cecile to make it safely to their little table. It.. was really dark. 

“Cecile-san, please be careful,” he said, now being kind of nervous for his friend.

“I’m okayyy!” in the end of the sentence she yelped, because her outstretched arm collided with Zero’s mask, making a low thud, “I.. suppose I made it to the table, right?” she laughed and Suzaku gave out a chuckle as well, carefully putting her hand aside, so she could find the chair to sit on in this ridiculous darkness.

“Okay, so.. I’ll just warn you that I won’t be speaking while we’re eating, because I have a voice modifier inside that distorts my original voice,” Kururugi explained carefully, waiting for their reactions.

“Ahhh, so you can’t be tracked even by voice recognition, that’s very smart!” mused Lloyd, already, what it seemed, with a mouthful of food, “Or you’re someone who we know, so you don’t want to be recognised! But that’s less probable than the first point,” he concluded to himself, now apparently drinking something.

“I won’t comment on that, Lloyd-san,” Suzaku said and then sighed, “Itadakimasu.”

And with that, the only sound in the room despite the munching on the food was the noise of Zero’s mask unzipping and being put near him on the ground.

Japanese inhaled sharply, filling his chest with some fresh air, even though they were inside.

He finally scratched his nose and then rubbed his eyes, using all of the time he has without a mask. Being without it in public was a really rare occasion, so he felt ecstatic, thinking that.. maybe one day his life might get better.

Once he took a big bite of some veggie balls that were on the plate in front of him, he already wanted to say how delicious it is, especially compared to first things she ever cooked for them, but then stopped himself, instead just gulping down the food.

He noticed that the other two were silent as well, probably honouring the fact that one of this trio cannot talk. How nice of them, truly.

During the whole process he was careful of sounds to be able to in time put a mask back on if needed, but nothing really happened. He only heard some clicking, as if someone was taking glasses on and off two times, but other than that, nothing. It was probably Lloyd messing around anyways.

He sighed with relief when he finished, reluctant to put the mask back on. Despite of being in the dark for so long, his eyes didn’t adjust and he still couldn’t see anything, probably because the place was really devoid of all light at the moment.

Then he shook his head to himself, thinking that revealing his identity would be too risky at the current situation, so he put the mack back on, making a clicking sound in the dark.

“I’ll turn the light back on,” Suzaku said and luckily didn’t collide with anything on his way there.

Once the light was back on, the trio grunted in unison, their eyes certainly not being able to absorb this all at once.

He didn’t sit back down to the portable table but just stood next to it, looking at Cecile.

“Thank you for the meal, it was very delicious,” he said, smiling at her.

“I’m glad it was,” when she lifted her dark blue eyes at him, it looked like she’s been crying, so he got instantly worried.

“Are you okay?!” he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“I am, thank you, it’s just the sudden light,” she laughed weakly in response, placing her gentle palm on top of his hand, squeezing a little.

Suzaku then pulled away and nodded, still with a warm aftertaste of being treated like an actual friend or an acquaintance.

“I’ll get going then. See you tomorrow, Lloyd-san,” Zero turned away on his heels and made his way from the engineering lab.

“Cecile-kun, the tears weren’t from the lighting, were they?” once they were alone, Lloyd looked at her with a pleased grin, swiftly putting his hand into her pocket and taking night vision glasses out of there, waving them in the air in front of her, “Who is he?”

“I’m sorry, Lloyd-san, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you,” she said with a warm smile, a single tear falling down her cheek, “but he is a good person. We can definitely trust him.”

.

.

Life went at significantly slower pace in the countryside than in the city. Nobody was busy.. there actually was *nobody*. Only him and C.C.

The perfect solitude life for two sinners who wanted to make their wishes come true.

Lelouch was just in the middle of harvesting some plants from their little farm, taking breaks every so often because his physique didn’t improve even in conditions like this.

The strew hat oh his head protected him from the angry sun that was shining though the eternity of summer in these lands.

“C.C., can you please get me a container for these? I think it’s better to grow them inside, they’re dying out there on all this heat,” ex-emperor barged into their house with two plants in his hands, taken out of the ground with the roots, waiting for help from the green haired companion he had by his side.

“Uh-huh, sure,” she put away the knitting equipment and lowered her bare legs from the table she was resting on, getting up to her feet, making a beeline for the back room, where the junk of all sorts was stored. For situations like this.

She looked around the whole room, noticing old Zero suit just hanging by the wall, some markers and scissors peeking out of the pockets. She sighed and lowered her olive eyes, finally finding what her partner has asked her for.

With two brown-ish pots in hands she went back and put them on the floor in from of the skinny man, returning to the back room once again to get some fresh soil for the poor plants.

Then she came back for the second time, plopping next to the bag with terra, tearing it open and pouring the soil into the pots.

Lelouch was looking at her this whole time, as if exploring every millimetre of her pale skin. He did it often now. Paying more attention to the details and that made him even the better deduction master than he’s been before.

Sherlock Holmes was onto something, truly.

He could now finally put the plants into their new home now, patting the ground with his elegant fingers, making sure they’re steady in it. 

Then he placed them next to the dining table and wanted to go out again.

“Lelouch,” simply said C.C., taking her knitting needles in hands alongside the purple yarn which for the most part was being dragged behind her as she followed him outside.

“Hm?” was the only answer she got, as Lelouch continued taking care of the garden, completely immersed in the activity.

Or maybe his mind was thousand miles away..

“I miss you,” she stated, still knitting, kind of furiously, even though her face was unchanging.

“What? I’m right here,” he chuckled, his hands firmly in the ground, making sure that the plants have enough space to grow and expand.

“No. The old you, the one who was always in motion, who didn’t let life stop him, the one who made me feel like life is a game worth winning,” she said, her hands slowing down in the tempo of her activity, “I feel like you’re losing yourself too.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment after that, working like some gardener, brows furrowed together.

“But we won, C.C. This might not be the life that you nor I want to live, but that’s a small price to pay for the world to stay in peace, don’t you think?” he finally met her eyes, lifting his amethysts from the greenery.

“What about Nunnally? Don’t you wanna see her?” there was no hesitation in her voice as the man got up from his knees and pointed a finger at her in a warning manner.

“I told you to never say her name aloud..” he whispered, no signs of anger on his face, only sadness pooling in his dark, beautiful eyes.

“So you just want to forget her? Or what? What’s your plan?” she stood on her tiptoes now to get closer to his face, talking in the same semi-whispering way, not willing to step down.

This kind of rivalry was the thing that kept these two going in the most dire times when they just wanted to fuck it all and return to the old swing of things.

“I have no plan,” said Lelouch so closely to her lips that at some point of his phrase they touched and he then pulled away, making his way back to the house.

“Hm. What a sore loser,” she mused with a smile on her face, following him and plopping herself on the couch, knitting away.

For the rest of the day they didn’t exchange a single word.

.

.

Suzaku was dreading today. The day started already badly from the beginning. 

He woke up with a headache and outside was pouring rain, attacking large windows in his private rooms, sound echoing through the space that lacked furniture.

Despite having amazing athletic skills, the curly haired boy was still very skinny for his height and his depression often made him feel like he doesn’t even need or deserve to eat anything.

He sat on the bed, white shirt loose on his shoulders, shuddering to himself.

It was so dark. And lonely. Everyday was the same. Lonely, lonely, lonely. Alone. Echo drifting through the void of his existence, springing off the rich, gold decorated walls which mean absolutely nothing to him.

He hated to reside in the royal palace but he would hate even more to be somewhere alone.

Here he at least has Nunnally... someone who knows completely and unconditionally who he is.

His first plan of action each morning is to wake her up, let her dress and then go together to the dining hall and have breakfast. Only after that they would proceed to go on official side of the business.

When he came to her room and saw an empty bed his heart sunk uncomfortably fast and Kururugi rushed to it, seeing a note neatly folded on the sheets.

*I’m sorry I didn’t tell you beforehand, but I will be in my office earlier today. Have something to eat and then bring me the finalised Product. We’ll hold the ceremony in the evening.” 

It said and he slowly slid his fingers over the letters, face growing grim. 

The product.. she meant the geass button. His stomach curled up and he started to feel nauseous.

If any doctor would see Suzaku right now, they would probably tell him to take a vacation at least for a month and rest for the eternity of it.

There was no professional to stop him, though, so he just stepped hard on all of his emotions, knitting his brows together, putting the Zero mask on.

He marched from the private empress wing and saw quite a lot of commotion, probably because of the speech that Nunally will be giving later.

A lot of people started coming up to him, saying “Zero please do this and that” and Kururugi just waved them all away, for once without any capacity left to feel guilty that he can’t help with preparations.

Soon enough young man found himself in the technician part of the palace where everything was more silent. Way easier to bear the silence here than in his room, he noticed.

“Ah, Zero, welcome!” mused Lloyd, greeting his with open arms, “Everything is ready! Still don’t understand why would the empress need such a device that never brought nothing good but I guess it is not my business to ask, am I right?” he smirked and looked at the masked person, hands on hips.

“It indeed isn’t,” said Suzaku in the low tone, just being fed up with this day. He’d much rather take off his mask and tell the whole world that his death was a lie instead of even touching the device that can inflict such a power. Power that he despises.

But he can’t do that. He can’t do that because he is a slave. He always will be. Lelouch was right. He just lets people to spit on him over and over, in the end not changing a single thing in the grand scheme of things.

Suzaku wasn’t the greatest politician, despite his dad rooting heavily in politics, and so japanese were actually still being oppressed. He just didn’t know how to solve it. He wasn’t as great of a leader as Lelouch was, as the real Zero was. 

He’s just a mere replacement that can’t even do his job right. 

So he will take the geass button that Nunnally requested from his friend that doesn’t even know who he is, he will ignore Cecile-san as she comes in just seconds before he leaves and waves enthusiastically at him, he will continue in his heavy steps all the way to the palace, he will shrug off every single interviewer that wants to have a discussion with Zero, leader of a nation, he will knock on empress’ office where she is ready for the speech to give to the whole population. And he will bow down before her, getting on one knee, giving her the power he hates. She will just curtly nod at him and then put the device carefully in her lap, just out of reach of the camera. He will stand beside her as Zero, and there will be silence before the broadcast.

He is just a servant. Merely that.

“Nunnally,” he said, devoid of any emotion left, “you still won’t tell me which order are you going to give?” he was looking straight into the tv screen in front of them, as the countdown showed still two minutes left before the beginning of the stream.

“No,” she said seriously, looking at the same direction, tensing up.

“So it will work on me and I won’t even know, huh,” his tone was now softer and quieter, accepting the fact that his most loved person alive is essentially doing what he hated the most.

“No. I got that checked up, Suzaku,” in her voice could be heard a small smile, probably a sad one, as she continued “Apparently the order that my brother gave you was so powerful that you’re immune to any different type of geass,” she said with a deep sigh, “so you’ll hear it and won’t be affected. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

He couldn’t answer her anything on that because the timer was already up and the political duo went live to the millions of people that were watching, all around the globe.

The topic of the speech was supposed to be about more liberation rights for Japan, so that created a lot of so-called “hype” amongst the citizens, britannians as well as japanese. The maximum amount of people were watching and they will all obey the empress. That was the plan.

“Nunnally vi Britannia commands you,” with hearing these words Suzaku got goosebumps, his hands squeezing the handles of her wheelchair as much as he could to prevent himself from doing anything that he might regret later, “please, everyone who is watching this or hearing this, forget about the fact that the 99th Emperor of the Holy Britannian Empire was Lelouch vi Britannia. From now on, you will all remember him as just a person without a face, someone who wanted to rule the entire world, but it wasn’t him. It wasn’t Lelouch,” she said, after pressing the button.

Even a normal person could feel a literal surge of some energy coming out of the room they were in and Suzaku widened his eyes as he heard the order.

His mouth hung open as he was trying to make sense of what she just said.

Nunnally cleared Lelouch’s name. 

Nunnally... cleared Lelouch’s name. 

Kururugi couldn’t focus on anything that the empress proceeded to talk about after that, staring blankly at the wall and for the first time he was genuinely glad that he was wearing a mask, so that nobody could see his shocked expression.

A/N: this fic can be now found on ao3! i wont be updating it here on tumblr because that would be just too many chapters and that's just... too much work fdsjfjsf

[monster-bait]

Hi, do you have any tips for someone starting out who would like to make money off my own writing. I think I may use patreon, and self publish, I Mainly write Poto Leroux and would like to take request for original fiction, but I have a very small following and am put off sharing my work because I'm afraid not many people will see/read it. Sorry for the really long ask but if you have any tips and/or advise that would be greatly appreciated.

Oh wow, I don’t know where you guys got it into your heads that I’m any good at making money, lol!

Soooo...first off, I’m far from a publishing professional and I’ve only had my own Patreon up and running since September, so I’m a questionable authority at best. 

I can only speak to my own experience and schedule, and time tends to be my most limited commodity, so I put a lot of thought into considering what I was and was not willing to commit to my Patrons each month, and for how many patrons I was willing/able to make that commitment. My patrons are guaranteed to receive one (1) exclusive story between 5-10k words a month, in addition to exclusive viewership of my multi-chapter work. Since that’s not an insignificant time commitment, in addition to commissions, side projects, and real life responsibilities, ensuring I had an audience first was a priority, because it’s *not* a time commitment I’m willing to make for 3 people. (Even though I’d be supremely grateful to @thelampades and two others regardless. 😜)

Since you’re specifically asking about monetizing, I’ll be blunt: if you don’t put the work in to build a readership, you’re not going to see much financial return. Now, that’s absolutely not an indictment of your work. That’s simply the nature of commerce and marketing: people won’t buy what they don’t know exists. This is especially true for what they’re willing to pay for, particularity when fanfic is free. If transformative fanwork is what you’re writing, then you already know the market is crowded. 

I would ask yourself why you’re unwilling to share your work now, when you also want to make money from it. (I don’t mean give everything away for free, but presumably there’s going to be considerable overlap with the audience with whom you’re currently not sharing and the audience you eventually want to buy your work.)

If you search my #writing woes tag, I’ve answered questions previously on how to build and sustain a following, and that would be my advice, if it’s advice you’re seeking.

As far as self publishing goes...people self-publish for myriad reasons—because they have a pet passion that’s under-represented, because they’re trying to launch an authoring career, because they simply want to own a book on their shelf with their name on it, etc, so your experience will depend on your motivations. @jamiepage19 has self published an absolutely lovely bit of poto fiction, so she would be a good resource to whom you could reach out! 

If you’re seeking to self-publish to make money, be prepared to spend money. Everything costs money. Covers, formatting, editing, advertising. But! Again, it depends on your expectations for “making money”. 

If you’re interested in selling a dozen copies to family and friends, KDP is completely free. If you are bringing your own audience to the table, it might mitigate some of the advertising need. You can edit your own work, you can make your own cover from free-use stock images, and your investment is minimal. 

If you’re looking to enter the realm of author as a career, it isn’t. The average spend for a self-published author is about $2k/book, including edits, cover, ISBN numbers if you’re selling anywhere other than KDP, and ad campaigns. 

I will say, if it’s fanwork you'd be publishing, because its so niche you’d have an easier time finding readership than authors of broad categories like murder mysteries or fantasy romance (OMG, I’m going to sell 3 books, what is wrong with meeeeeeeeeeee 😭) *Ahem.* People who read niche fiction tend to browse the whole list of offerings, so there’s that. But again...with writers like, say, Michelle Rodriguez out there, a known quantity with multiple POTO works and followers, the main thing separating someone from buying your book is going to be the unknown factor.

Bottom line: you’ve got to put yourself out there. It’s never easy to share something you’ve created, because it’s personal and it hurts to have it be overlooked or ignored or criticized, but that’s the nature of the beast. *Especially* if you want to monetize it. People should keep their opinions to themselves and move along with fanfic; if it’s something they’ve paid for? They have the right to pick it apart and review it and that means growing a relatively thick skin as a creator.

If you want to write original fiction, start doing it. Create a Writeblr side-blog to share, if you want to move away from the fandom aspect. If you’re asking me how to start writing original work, you just need to take a breath and do it. I left the poto fandom and fanwork in general about 2 years ago and I’ve never looked back or felt the need to, so don’t feel like you’re locked in place. There IS life after fandom, I promise.

(I could honestly write a small book about planning and executing a launch, because that’s actually what I did in my day job and it really grinds my gears the way people can be so utterly clueless in assuming they can flip on a light switch and the whole world will know about it...there are entire departments dedicated to product launches in every retailer in the world, so if/when you get to that point, feel free to ask questions!)

My advice is to start sharing! Not sharing because you’re worried about your writing being overlooked and then jumping to monetizing seems like a sure-fire way to become discouraged over a lukewarm reception. (Patreon has its own pitfalls to be prepared for even without the question of ‘will people find me’ looming over it.) Build a readership, even if it’s a small one. Small and loyal is just as important as large and transient. Keep your readership. Work on making you writing the best it can be. And good luck! Please don’t be afraid to hit me up again...I’d love a progress report, and I always reblog work I’m tagged in on my Bookshelf page.

Check out my #writing woes tag for more typo-riddled writing advice-type posts on navigating Tumblr as a creator and building an engaged audience!

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[sparkingstoryinspiration]

Outlining and plot development

Wherever you fall on the spectrum of pantser to plotter to throwing pens at your computer and hoping your story will write itself (that’s a self callout) here is a guide (that no one asked for!) to plotting your story! 

Is this going to be an exhaustive list of everything you have to do to write the next NYT bestseller? no. This is, like everything else on this blog, a summary of ideas. They won’t all apply, they won’t all work for everyone, they won’t cover everything, but it’s a start. That’s the best part of the writing prompt business, you supply the inspiration and other people do the hard work! 

Okay, let’s get into it 

1. What story are you telling? 

Now, I’m going to be really honest with you here. If you don’t know this, you have a lot of work to do. And that’s okay! 

Take some time to flesh out your idea. Wherever you start, I promise you there’s more in your head waiting to be discovered. Take out a piece of paper, open up a new document, write it on your walls! (we will NOT be covering lost security deposits!) and do some brainstorming. 

The basic elements of a story are 

- characters 

- conflict 

- resolution 

- plot twist(s) 

- setting/background (think physical setting where the story takes place and informational setting, worldbuilding, context, etc) 

We have a post on developing characters here and posts on the other elements are in the works! I wish I could say they’ll be posted in a timely manner but . . . they won’t, they just won’t lmao I’m sorry 

You don’t have to have all of these points completely figured out before you move onto plotting! In fact, you shouldn’t! Or, if you think you do, be open to change because it’s important to remember that all these points, especially characters, are heavily affected by the plot! 

2. How are you telling this story? 

This is for the technical stuff. 

What does the formatting look like? Are you breaking it up into chapters? Parts? Not everyone writes drafts like this so that’s okay, maybe you’re going to write out of order, maybe you’ll break it up after, whatever works for you though I highly encourage you to switch it up every now and then and see if anything works better for you than what you’ve been doing. 

3. Consider the usual structure of a story 

There are a lot of these, try not to get overwhelmed or too snagged on any of them but here are two interesting ones! 

The first is the three act structure, we’re all pretty familiar with this. 

Think of an action movie, it starts with a small introduction, it introduces a main character, side characters, stakes, a setting. Then the conflict happens! 

BAM! the beloved spy is thought to be a traitor, their family is being held hostage and they have to betray everyone they work with to save them, they have a horrible secret that’s coming back to bite them in the ass. Whatever it is, this moves us into the second act, the journey, the trials, whatever you want to call them. 

This is the largest part of the story and the tension continues to build until we reach the climax of the story. They save they world, or their family, or themselves, or they don’t. Whatever it is, this results in the final act where the action falls, everything is resolved, and the story is over (unless a sequel is set up but that’s a whole other issue), you get the idea. 

(image found here) 

Another popular structure is the hero cycle which echoes the three act structure but focuses particularly on, you guessed it! Heroes! 

(image found here) 

Let’s take a popular storybook hero as an example here, Percy Jackson. (Needless to say, there will be spoilers if you, for some terrible reason, have not read Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief) 

All of these milestones are a little debatable but I’ll pick a few to use as examples. 

Percy begins his story, he is introduced as a character, I could write a whole essay on Percy’s development and the incredible writing of Rick Riordan (lmao, I have) but I’ll try to keep this brief. 

When his mother is kidnapped, he has a call to action, a goal: to save his mother. 

He crosses a very literal threshold into Camp Half Blood and his story begins. 

He goes through many trials and tests, Medusa, St. Louis, Waterland, the Lotus Hotel, and so on. 

It’s called abyss here but I learned it as the final battle, in PJO Percy faces Ares. This is very similar to the climax and falling action of the three act structure. Following this, loose ends are tied up, characters complete their journeys and their arcs, and the hero returns. 

It’s very fascinating, I highly recommend reading up on it. Again, you’ll find many many stories you read follow this structure. 

There are literally so many of these and if you’re interested, here’s a link to some more. Keep in mind, your story doesn’t have to fit these perfectly but even if you’ve planned out a story without these in mind, you’ll probably find most, if not all of it, fits pretty well within these lines. They can also help with pacing, if your first act is most of your story, you may need to move your conflict and stakes up earlier in the story to maintain interest. 

4. Now you outline 

Obviously not everyone outlines. Personally, I cannot understand this at all. Now, since this entire post is about plotting and outlining, we’re not really going to talk about pantsing because . . . that kind of defeats the point of this post. But! If you have anything to say about pantsing, tips, tricks, personal experiences, by all means, reblog this and add them! I don’t have any experience with pantsing so I really don’t have much to say on the topic. 

There are lots of different ways to outline a story. Personally, I recommend starting big. Think acts and parts, find your conflict and your stakes, you know you have to introduce your character and the world, how are you going to do that? That goes first, then stakes, so we care and then conflict, so the thing we care about is, well, at stake. 

Chronologically, you have the journey now, but let’s take a minute to talk about the end. 

4.5. How does it end? 

Even if you’re a pantser, I really, really recommend that you know how your story ends. Having a point you want to get to can make a world of difference in the process of planning and writing a story. Sure, you can run a marathon without setting an end point, but it’ll slow you down if you’re always checking to see what mile you’re on. 

So how does it end? Happy? Sad? Who is there? Logically speaking, your antagonist and protagonist should usually be present, supporting characters? How does it end, does the protagonist prevail and save the day? Is it a cliff hanger? If it’s a race to an end, who gets there first and what does it mean? 

Find your ending, and then work on your middle. 

5. The smaller picture 

If you have the main points (a beginning and an ending, the conflict and the stakes, your characters), now you can start thinking about the smaller details. 

You have an ending so what needs to happen to get your character(s) there? Consider your minor characters, where do they come in? Make sure they have a purpose! 

Keep in mind, in the first draft and even the second and for as long as you need it to be, your outline is fluid. You may very well be writing your project and realize the pacing isn’t right, or that something needs to happen later in the story, or that you need to add a scene. Then, when it comes to editing and redrafting, it’s likely that you’ll change it even more. 

Try not to get caught up in it being perfect, that’s not what first drafts are for. Make it workable and approach it with an open mind, things are going to change, that’s a given. 

6. Write your story! 

A few notes on this. As one of my favorite authors, Neil Gaiman says, “the process of doing your second draft is the process of making it look like you knew what you were doing all along.” 

So once you’re done with your first draft and the time comes to redraft it and you’re working on your outline, now is the perfect time to add your foreshadowing and rework your plot twists. This isn’t to say they don’t have a place in your first draft, they do, give it your best shot! But your story is fluid and your outline and plans are bound to have changed and your editing stages are the best stages to really make sure foreshadowing, plot twists, and all or acts or hero cycle, or whatever you want to call it, works together. 

And this concludes another guide that no one asked for. I hope you enjoyed it and if you have any suggestions for ones you’d like to see we currently have plot twists, endings, motivation, and more in the works! 

Happy writing! 

- Mod S 

p.s. these can be found on our blog under the tag story development series!