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maniculum · 2 years ago

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The College of Grotesque Arts -- Week Two

For new people, I'm doing the Dungeon23 megadungeon project, basing each room on the marginalia of a different page in the 14th-century Luttrell Psalter. Previous entries in this project can be found here.

If you find this interesting at all, I'm going to do, like, fifty more of these posts. So, you know, follow to see that.

Before I get started on this week’s stuff, I want to address a worldbuilding thing that occurred to me after I established the existence of the Caretakers (which was mostly done to handwave why everything isn’t covered in filth and the critters haven’t all died off): if the Caretakers are still active, why are the critters able to just roam around and establish themselves in whatever room they want? Why aren’t the Caretakers maintaining cages & pens and corralling escaped critters?

The answer is that the Caretakers used to do these things autonomously, but this caused problems: the wizards would relocate a specimen, and the Caretakers would decide it had “escaped” and bring it back to its original location. Remembering to update the Caretakers every time they moved something around turned out to be too much of a pain, so their behavior was altered to only go after escaped critters if given a specific order or in extraordinary circumstances. (Like the critter attacking them, in which case they subdue it and put it wherever they “think” it’s supposed to be.) They also kind of do repairs, but it’s very low on their priority list and they rarely get around to it — the reason that a lot of the furniture is still present, albeit broken and rotting, is because the Caretakers will periodically restore it with fabricate or other spells if they don’t have anything else in their queue. As for cages, at least on the first floor, there aren’t any left. Caretaker One’s task of “feed metal to the fish” is higher-priority than “fix stuff”, and the cages were scavenged for this purpose pretty early on. (The create food & water effect apparently doesn’t put as much metal content into the fish food as the wizards wanted, and giving them scrap-metal supplements was supposed to be a temporary fix. If you really want to screw with your players, by the way, you could have Caretaker One come through their campsite on any night they spend on the first floor and “scavenge” any metal equipment they have laying around.)

We should also establish that the doors throughout the dungeon are rarely that securely shut, and unlocked unless otherwise noted. There are frequently large holes in them. The critters aren’t really confined anywhere, and if they do get stuck, they can escape when a Caretaker inevitably comes through the door on its rounds. I should start mentioning the doors when I do room descriptions. Or just make a Doors Table. Hm. I’ll come back to that.

Anyway, the new content is below the cut. You’ll note that the passages Appendix A likes to generate got a little out of hand in this section — good thing I already established that the ridiculous and labyrinthine layout is a feature, not a bug.

Room 1.8: f.16v

This room has a set of stairs down to the second level in the northwest corner. In the southwest corner, there’s a large metal lever mounted on the wall that looks rusted but still operative. Pulling this lever produces a grinding noise from elsewhere in the dungeon. The actual effect is that it opens a sturdy metal door in the passage to the north (the one marked “S” on the map) — this door has no handle or lock, and can’t really be opened otherwise unless the PCs want to try and bust it down. Pulling the lever again closes it. (This is my response to the incredibly pointless secret door Appendix A wanted me to put there — the door and the trigger are both obviously visible, because why would you bother to hide them?)

In this room, you will also find a cat. Yep. Just a regular-ass cat. How, you may ask, did a completely normal cat get down here? Listen. How do cats get anywhere? No, it isn’t anyone’s lost pet — it’s a feral cat that slipped down here and then stuck around because the Caretakers recognize it as an Animal and keep feeding it. (That should keep your players busy for, like, a half-hour minimum. Longer if you keep emphasizing how completely normal this cat is.)

The cat is in this room because it’s hunting mathagats. A mathagat is a creature roughly the size and shape of an earthworm, with wings and a goat’s head. They travel in… swarms? herds? clews? flocks? ... bunches, and feed on the small plants & fungi that grow on the dungeon architecture. Like algae-eater fish. There are a bunch here, grazing on a patch of some sort of mold on the east wall. I’m not going to give these guys stats, because, like… why would you? They’re not aggressive, and will fly away rather than fight. If the PCs want to catch one or smoosh one or something, just have them make a (difficult) Dexterity check. They might be able to do one point of damage with their wee little horns.

Room 1.9: f.17r

This room is fairly clear of clutter, but a few small bits of wood on the floor indicate that there used to be something here.

The only obvious feature of this room is the presence of a long-tailed stabbybird. It’s investigating the crevices between the stones on the south wall when the PCs enter, but it seems pretty territorial and has an immediate violent reaction when the PCs open the door. A long-tailed stabbybird looks a bit like a wingless ostrich, with green feathers on the body rather than black and white, a longer beak, two weird floppy red ears, and a very, very long tail. Its tongue has sharp “teeth” along the sides, and it can stick it out rapidly to stab prey. They’re not hugely mobile, with stubby little legs, and rely on their long neck & very long prehensile tail to access stuff out of their reach — none of them have managed to exit the dungeon, so PCs won’t be familiar. This one is also suffering from Bonus Face Syndrome, and is contagious (see Room 1.3). But seriously, look how long this thing’s tail is.

Yeah. There’s a reason I just cut it off for that first image. Anyway, since I’ve made it violent, I better provide stats. As before, feel free to adjust the stats or multiply the number of creatures... Hm. Hold on. I just realized that this is the second of two aggressive monsters I’ve made and they both have Bonus Face Syndrome. Canon: In the later stages, sufferers of BFS become unusually aggressive and violent. Anyway, stats:

Long-tailed Stabbybird: CR 5, XP 1600; N Medium Magical Beast; Init +1; Senses Low-Light Vision, Darkvision 60ft; Perception +13

DEFENSE: AC 17, touch 10, flat-footed 17 (+0 Dex, +7 natural); hp 60 (7d10+21); Fort +8, Ref +5, Will +5

OFFENSE: Speed 20 ft.; Melee tongue +11 (2d6+4/19-20,x3) , tail +6 (1d8+4);

Space 5 ft.; Reach 15 ft. (tail only); Special Attacks Constrict (2d6+4), Trip (tail), Grab (tail)

STATISTICS: Str 19, Dex 10, Con 16, Int 2, Wis 16, Cha 10; Base Atk +7; CMB +11 (+19 grapple, +13 trip); CMD 21 (23 against trip); Feats Greater Grapple, Improved Critical (tongue), Improved Grapple, Improved Natural Attack (tongue), Improved Trip, Lunge; Skills Perception +13; Special Qualities Magical Beast Traits

SPECIAL ABILITIES:

Constrict (Ex): A Long-tailed Stabbybird can crush an opponent, dealing 2d6+4 bludgeoning damage, when it makes a successful grapple check (in addition to any other effects caused by a successful check, including additional damage).

Trip (Ex): A Long-tailed Stabbybird can attempt to trip its opponent as a free action without provoking an attack of opportunity if it hits with its tail attack(s). If the attempt fails, the creature is not tripped in return.

Grab (Ex): If a Long-tailed Stabbybird hits with its tail attack(s), it deals normal damage and attempts to start a grapple as a free action without provoking an attack of opportunity. Grab can only be used against targets of a size Large or smaller.

The stabbybird doesn’t use its legs unless necessary, preferring to lunge and stab with its tongue while trying to entangle & crush opponents with its long, prehensile tail. It will flee if it’s clear it’s losing the fight; it’s large enough to push the doors open if the PCs haven’t specifically taken measures to keep it from doing so. If the stabbybird is defeated or driven off and the south wall investigated, PCs may find that the crevices between the stones have been chipped away and widened. It is possible, if PCs either employ diplomacy or try to remove one of the stones from the wall, to find out what’s back there.

Behind the wall is a colony of burrowing elvets. They’re about the size of a thumb, covered in gray fur, and humanoid other than their bifurcate feet. The colony contains a few dozen of them. These aren’t creations of the wizards — like the unicorn in Room 1.5, they’re extraplanar beings that were originally brought here for study. Unlike the unicorn, they escaped. They’ve built a network of burrows behind this wall, and have been living here ever since. (They’re longer-lived than humans, but it’s still been a few generations.) They’re not exactly thrilled with their circumstances, as they have to live by scavenging and avoiding the various beaſts. (The Caretakers don’t recognize them as Things To Feed.) If the PCs can figure out a better situation for them, they might go along with it and even owe them a favor. Stats for these guys are below. Note that the alignment is listed as “LB” — this is how I handle the fae. Their morality system is somewhat alien to human perception, so, inspired by TVTropes’s “Blue-and-Orange Morality”, I list them as “Lawful Blue”. (If you’re wondering, eldritch abominations are “Chaotic Orange”.)

Burrowing Elvet: CR 1, XP 400; LB Fine Fey; Init +3; Senses Low-Light Vision; Perception +1

DEFENSE: AC 21, touch 21, flat-footed 18 (+8 size, +3 Dex); hp 3 (2d6-4); Saves Fort -2, Ref +6, Will +4

OFFENSE: Speed 5 ft., climb 5 ft., burrow 5 ft.; Melee dagger +5 (1d1-4/19-20,x2); Space 0 ft.; Reach 0 ft.; Spell-Like Abilities: At Will: Hide from Animals, Pass without Trace

STATISTICS: Str 2, Dex 16, Con 6, Int 10, Wis 12, Cha 12; Base Atk +1; CMB -11; CMD 2; Feats Stealthy; Skills Diplomacy +6, Escape Artist +10, Handle Animal +3, Stealth +10, Survival +3, Use Magic Device +6; Languages Sylvan; Special Qualities Fey Traits

Room 1.10: f.17v

This is a large room, high-ceilinged (let’s say 50ft again) with a single door on the west wall.

There is no stone floor here — it’s open earth in which more Squirrel Oaks are growing, with oak squirrels inhabiting them. (Also various weeds have colonized the ground — feel free to add a few with medical use or other value if your players might be interested in that.) This room is something of an indoor grove, with more-or-less-normal animals inhabiting it. The animals were originally brought in as lab animals, food, or material for hybrid creation — or possibly found their way in from outside — but have since multiplied and run wild.

There is a burrow beneath one of the oaks that contains a colony of rabbits, and a dog seems to have taken up residence in this room. The dog enjoys chasing the rabbits and squirrels. The rabbits are entirely normal, but if the PCs have any way of checking, there’s something a little magical about the dog. (If the conversation with Orm goes well, the PCs might be aware that Orm is fond of this dog and calls him Rover. If I were going back and editing previous entries, I’d add a percentage chance that Rover is present in Orm’s “hermitage”, Room 1.4.) Rover is actually a descendant of one of the most benign experiments the wizards conducted, i.e., the Immortal Dog Project. (Even probably-evil wizards like dogs and lament their comparatively short lifespans.) Any dogs still inhabiting the dungeon are likewise descended from this experiment, which didn’t successfully make them immortal, but they do live for something like a hundred years. Some of these dogs have made their way to the outside world and interbred with their non-magical cousins, but probably not many people have noticed that some of Ller Tul’s strays seem to live an unusually long time. Rover in particular is of no identifiable breed, but is about the size of a small terrier.

There is also a flock of entirely normal birds, and a flight of less-normal giant butterflies. The butterflies (black with white spots and red stripes) are only different from their mundane counterparts in that they have a wingspan of something like a foot and a half. The birds (black-feathered, blue wings, utterly mundane) apparently eat them.

Appendix A wants me to put some treasure in this room, so: an extremely careful search will reveal a spot in the southwest corner where the soil is heaped a little higher than usual, though still overgrown with plant life. Digging in this location will reveal a few pottery jars filled with assorted coins — these are not original to the dungeon, but were stashed here by earlier explorers who didn’t want to lug them around and intended to come back for them on the way out. Judging by the plant growth over top of them, whoever put them here isn’t likely to come back at this point.

Room 1.11: f.18r

Appendix A thinks there should be a trap around here somewhere, and I’ve decided to put it on the door to this room rather than in the nearby passage it suggested. If the door is opened without the trap being disabled, the trap will summon several dragonflies to attack the opener. They’re just regular dragonflies, though, so this isn’t much of a threat. Gods only know why this trap is even here. If the trap is identified before the door is opened, examination shows that it only goes off if you don’t knock first.

This room was apparently a latrine at one point; or at least that’s the most obvious explanation for the big hole in the floor in the northwest corner. A fountain of some sort occupies the northeast corner, and seems to be still running, if not very well. (Note: there is a sort of plumbing system that connects all of the dungeon's water features together; a really dedicated (and very small) individual could probably travel around the dungeon that way.)

The fountain contains a few eel wyverns, which are pretty much what they sound like. They’re colorful, coming in shades of red and blue, but unlike their kin the toy wyvern from Room 1.2, aren’t considered particularly decorative (and haven’t been attested outside of this dungeon). Wyvern only in the roughest of outlines, these creatures are scaleless, legless, snub-nosed, and about the length of a human forearm. Eel wyverns can fly — their wings repel water like a duck’s — but it’s a clumsy sort of flight, and they spend most of their time in water by preference. They’re not aggressive if not provoked, but just in case, here are some stats. They’re still pretty harmless, aside from being venomous.

Eel Wyvern: CR 1, XP 400; N Diminutive Dragon (aquatic); Init +3; Senses Low-Light Vision, Darkvision 60ft; Perception +5

DEFENSE: AC 17, touch 17, flat-footed 14 (+4 size, +3 Dex); hp 16 (2d12+3); Saves Fort +3, Ref +6, Will +3; +4 vs. poison

OFFENSE: Speed 10 ft., swim 10 ft., fly 10 ft.; Melee bite +3 (1d2-3 plus poison); Space 2-1/2 ft.; Reach 2-1/2 ft.; Special Attacks Poison, Amphibious

STATISTICS: Str 4, Dex 16, Con 9, Int 4, Wis 10, Cha 4; Base Atk +2; CMB -5; CMD 8; Feats Toughness; Skills Fly +8, Perception +5, Stealth +8; Special Qualities Dragon Traits

SPECIAL ABILITIES:

Poison (Ex): An Eel Wyvern's bite attack will inflict a poison on its victims that has a Fortitude save DC of 11, a frequency of 1/round for 6 rounds, causes 1d2 Con damage, and takes two saves to cure.

Amphibious (Ex): An Eel Wyvern has the aquatic subtype, but they can survive indefinitely on land.

I had moved on to the next room when it occurred to me that some players are going to want to search the latrine. Figuring I should put something there for those troubled souls, I considered what this abandoned latrine would be like. It’s not going to still be full of waste — the kind of people who made magical constructs to clean up after the animals would surely have those same constructs empty the latrines — so there should be something else. So: the original wooden seat having fallen apart, the latrine is currently just a hole in the floor that, theoretically, someone could fit through. It’s, let’s say, 30ft deep — if you’re a wizard making a latrine, you might go a little overboard in getting the waste as far away from you as possible, and the Caretakers can empty it with telekinesis, so there’s no downside in making it deep. It’s not designed for someone to go down there, so anyone investigating will need to make Climb checks or fall.

Down at the bottom is a chamber roughly 10ft across. Over to the side, out of sight of anyone looking down from the top, is a skeleton. This poor fellow — let’s name him Ralph — was an explorer much like the PCs, who decided to investigate the latrine, fell in, and wasn’t able to get back out (either he died from the fall or he’s just not a good enough climber). Give him some randomly-generated gear appropriate for the PCs’ level. A lot of it will have decayed — and anything metal has probably been telekinetically retrieved by Caretaker One to feed the fish in Room 1.7 — but there should be a non-metal magic item or two that has preserved itself against time to reward the PCs for checking such a ridiculous place. And maybe some precious stones or somesuch.

Room 1.12: f.18v

This room is dominated by a 20ft-diameter circular basin set into the center of the floor. It seems to be at least 30ft deep — probably deeper, but the bottom is covered in a thick layer of silt and plant matter. The stone walls have a lot of built-in shelves, counters, and compartments that probably used to be covered with cabinet doors. (This used to be a lab for experimenting with aquatic creatures.)

Right now, the inhabitants of the basin / tank / aquarium / whatever are some more eel wyverns (see Room 1.11), a school of entirely ordinary green fish, and a number of small flying insects. Not counting the plant matter and whatever tiny critters live in the silt at the bottom.

This room is also occupied by a few giant rats — dungeon classic, that. One of them seems to be trying to catch the fish.

A few bluebirds are hanging out on the shelves and ex-cabinets near the ceiling, keeping out of the rats’ way.

Room 1.13: f.19r

Much of the northern portion of this room is taken up by an artificial pond.

Appendix A thinks there should be a monster here, so this room contains a few very aggressive and territorial geese. Mundane geese, just angry ones. Not that that’s hugely out of the ordinary for geese. For extra fun, you may decide that one or more of these geese are actually the Horrible Goose. (Link goes to a post by @prokopetz; I believe there are other posts on putting the Horrible Goose in D&D as well, but this is the one that sticks in my head because I like how it describes the goose as having "limited ontological inertia".)

Room 1.14: f.19v

This is more of an unusual spot in the passageway than a proper room — a 10ft-by-20ft area off of the passage is an overgrown space that was probably once an herb garden of some sort.

The area that used to be a garden is currently home to some mundane snails, hedgehogs, and mice. The hedgehogs are exceptionally adorable.

If the PCs haven’t already encountered it — I’m planning to put it on the random encounter table for this level — this is where they find the spotted boar. The spotted boar has the same stats as a mundane boar; its only unusual feature is its dramatically spotted pattern. This might be the result of magic, but might also just be from selective breeding — there are spotted pigs, after all. It is a foul-tempered beaſt and should be given a wide berth.

And that’s Week Two done. Having a lot of fun with this, but still struggling to keep the word count under control. See y’all next time, I guess.

#dungeon23 #college of grotesque arts #d&d #dnd #ttrpg #medieval #medieval creatures #medieval art #marginalia #illuminated manuscript #manuscript #pathfinder

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chasingpj · 4 years ago

Text

𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐝-𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝

"Ehm, is this like a seven-minutes-in-heaven thing?”

pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader

words: 5,236

warnings: none? pls let me know if i missed anything

timeline: post sea of monsters

if you want to be tagged every time I update this story click here

a/n: hi hi! i hope you guys like this chapter. i fell in a little bit of a rut about my writing so I've been holding off on posting but I think I'm pretty satisfied with how this came out. i'm so fried after editing this so if i happened to miss any typos, sorry, i tried haha.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

The heat and dimness from the cabin surround you like a warm hug making it challenging to stay awake. Your eyelids droop against your wishes to study, fatigue messing with your vision as it blurs the letters on the page you were trying to read. As you find yourself mindlessly reading words, you decide to give in, and soon you’re settled in an in-between state of consciousness.

Suddenly, you’re standing at the entryway of the kitchen in your home, the first thing you notice is the scent of your favorite meal as it fills your nostrils, and you smile sleepily as your father looks at you. He’s hovering over the stove, right hand stirring something in a saucepan, and he smiles widely at you.

“Stella, you’re home!” He announces as he pushes his round glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Go, sit! Dinner is almost ready.”

You smile at the nickname your father has called you since you were a child. He said that the first time you cried in his arms, your little body illuminated like a supernova, and since then, he’s called you Stella, the Latin word for star. You make your way past the kitchen island on your left, noticing the history channel playing on the small TV in the corner of the counter like always. A sense of nostalgia hits you in your core, and you sigh, feeling safe. As much as you loved the camp, homesickness was unavoidable.

You settle yourself at the black round table in the back of the kitchen, chin resting on your palm as you look outside of the window beside you. The small garden of herbs and flowers you have in the backyard is as you remember. Every summer, your father cultivates herbs and flowers in dedication to your mother. He uses most of the herbs for spells, and at the end of the summer, he would make a bouquet out of the brightest flowers in the garden and rest them on your mother’s alter.

The reminder of your mother made your stomach feel heavy, and you quickly push the thoughts of her away. You weren’t in the mood to deal with them, especially not in a dream like this. The thumping of Atticus’s footsteps coming down the stairs catches your attention, and soon your brother appears in the doorway with his usual wide smile.

“Hey! I thought you were making my favorite tonight.” His shoulders slump, and he playfully narrows his eyes at you. You shrug,

“What can I say? Must suck not being the favorite,” you joke, and Atticus gasps dramatically. The sound of your father’s laughter fills the room as he tilts his head back.

“I love you guys equally! That’s not nice to say,” he says as he points the spatula at you as he squints. You snort as Atticus joins you at the table,

“Yeah, Y/n, that’s not nice,” he repeats, poking his tongue out at you, and you return the action. You and your brother have a short competition of who can stick out their tongue harder as your father puts the food on the table. At the sight of your favorite meal, you let Atticus win, turning to put a portion on your plate.

Amidst your dinner conversation with your father and your brother, the deep growl rumbling in Ambrose’s chest makes its way into your dream. A soft hum leaves your lips, your neck relaxing against your will, and your head jolts forward as your cheek slips off your palm. You blink a few times, groaning since you’ve lost your dream.

“Ambrose, shush.” Your chin returns onto your hand, and you submit to your fatigue once again. The image of a ravenous bunny, cartoonishly stomping its way through a candy cane forest, filled your mind, projected on your eyelids like a movie in a theater. It’s too ridiculous to give much thought, and you were too busy relishing in the soothing feeling of sleep.

All of a sudden, Ambrose bursts into a series of short high pitched barks, jolting you awake. Your eyelids fly open, and you turn in your chair. Ambrose stands up tall, his fur contouring to his muscles as they flex. His ears are perched up; his focus fixed on the back wall. Whatever he was looking at, he didn’t dare to approach.

"What? What is it?"

The bunk beds obstructed your view, but you are sure you are alone. Everyone was out and about doing their normal camp activities; if anyone had entered the cabin, you would have heard them.

You groan in your hands as they rub your face to shake off the remaining fatigue, growing annoyed at Ambrose’s persistent barking that nips harshly at your eardrums.

“Ambros-”

A bitter breeze fills the room, and your breath gets caught in your throat at the feeling. Your arms wrap around your frame, failing to prevent goosebumps from forming on your arms. It was impossible. Today’s weather report called for a hot, humid day like it’s been all summer. As the hair at the back of your neck stands straight, and you have an idea of what’s happening, but you hoped you were wrong.

Ambrose abruptly ends his barking with a distressing whine. His ears sag low on the sides of his head as he retreats, his large body shrinking in fear. With cautious steps, you approach him in the middle of the cabin. The thumping of your pulse is loud in your ears, and for the first time in a while, a familiar pang strikes you in your gut. You’re being watched.

Despite his fear, Ambrose guards you finding the courage to stand tall and confident after cowering a few seconds ago. You let out a shaky breath, and warily, you finally catch sight of what has his attention.

A tall, dark figure stands still at the end of the room. The light that bleeds through the thin curtains behind it wasn’t enough to expose its face but instead illuminates the swirling black vapor that made up this human form.

From your years of experience, you learned how to deal with these kinds of things. Ghosts gravitated towards you like a moth to a lit flame. Most of the time, the spirits are harmless, looking for some company, and were eager to ask for favors you often couldn’t fulfill. Other times, they were more malevolent entities, existing to feed off your fears, and had the reputation of being stubborn guests.

From the way, the room turned impossibly cold in the middle of a sweltering summer afternoon and the heaviness in your gut, the shadow in front of you was definitely the latter.

"Who are you? How did you get here?" Your voice booms through the silence. "Why are you here-"

The cabin door slams open, the shadow dispersing the moment the sunlight bleeds through the room. You jump, gasping as your whole body turns around. The two figures at the doorway are dark, the sudden beams of light blinding you for a moment before you manage to recognize Connor and Travis.

“Why is it so damn dark in here? And cold? Jeez, Y/n, open the curtains at least,” Travis nags with a smirk on his lips.

“I don’t need light to see.” You groan, turning your face away, the sun shining right at you as Travis begins ripping open the curtains. “And I hate when the sun gets in my eyes,” you complain, stepping aside where sunlight doesn’t reach. Though you saw the shadow disperse, you glance at the back of the room, double-checking that what you saw was gone.

"You know... “

Your focus returns to the two boys standing side by side a few feet away from you. Both of them sporting the mischievous smirk that all the Hermes kids had when they’re about to stir up trouble. Connor only uttered two words, but it was clear they were up to something, and you were about to be involved.

"You've been locked up in here, in the dark, alone, for a while now. It's been like a week and a half since the incident, and we know you’re still a little down,” he trails off, swaying on his feet.

"... yeah?"

"And we think we have the perfect way to cheer you up!" Connor gives you a toothy grin, and as confident as he looked, you don’t quite believe him.

"And that is?"

"I think it's time we execute our bunny prank on the Ares cabin!"

You press your lips together in a thin line; head cocked to the side. "That's supposed to cheer me up?"

"Yeah!"

"How is putting my life in danger going to cheer me up?" Your gaze switches between the two as they exchange looks with each other.

“Um…” Connor says, lost for words.

"It'll be fun. We promise!" Travis insists, waving your comment off. He moves to sit in your chair, leaning back as he props his legs on your desk. "So, have you thought about how we're going to do this?"

You sigh softly, not bothering to protest. If you denied participating, Connor would be quick to remind you what’s at stake.

"I have," you admit. After your last interaction with Clarisse, the prank did come to mind.

The Stoll brother’s faces grew almost as bright as the sun outside. Connor takes a seat on the bed closest to you, leaned in with his elbows on his knees, "Tell us the details then,” he urges.

"Okay, so I found a shape-shifting potion in my spellbook. It's pretty simple. I have all the ingredients except for one. The only thing I need is the hair of a rabbit. Get that for me, and I'll make it." Connor and Travis nod eagerly, and you can already see the gears turning in their heads as they formulate a plan to catch a bunny.

"If you can get it to me in a few hours, we can sneak into their cabin while they're practicing in the arena. Then I can pour a few drops of the potion into their water cooler. The potion is potent; you only need a few drops for it to work."

"Sounds like a solid plan. They'll be thirsty after practicing, and boom, they’re all cute little bunnies,” Travis says, legs unmounting from your desk, and he hops onto his feet.

"So hurry and get me rabbit hair!”

A small, almost manic laugh comes from Connor’s lips, "This is gonna be epic!"

"Should we ask the nymphs for help?" Travis ponders out loud as he makes his way out of the dorm.

"Wait! We should get scissors! Do you have scissors?” Connor asks you, and you giggle. You grab a pair of scissors from your desk drawer, and Connor quickly swipes them from your hands the moment you present them to him.

"Thanks, Y/n!” Swiftly, he turns on his heels, trailing behind Travis.

"Be careful, please! Don't hurt the bunny!"

"We won't! The worse we'll do is give it a bald spot; they’ll be fine!" Travis shouts.

After the slamming of the front door and the ragged footsteps of Connor and Travis’s departure, your smile falters as the silence regresses. The figure you had seen comes to mind, and you frown, Ambrose whining as he sits close to your legs.

"That was weird, wasn't it?" You lean down, affectionately scratching the backs of his ears as Ambrose licks your wrists. The sight of his drooping eyes told you enough to know that this wasn’t the last time you’ll be seeing whatever that was.

"C'mon, let's not worry about that now. We have to make that potion." An uneasy grumble comes from Ambrose's chest as he nuzzles his snout in your hand.

"I know, I know," you whisper before standing up.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

"Shh, they’re coming,” Travis announces in a whisper, silencing you and Connor’s conversation. The distanced chattering and footsteps of the Ares campers become louder as Clarisse pushes open the front door. The three of you duck lower in your place as they scatter to their beds, beginning to take off their armor. Travis slowly rises from his crouching position, peaking enough to see the inside. He gives you and Connor a nod, a silent okay to peek yourselves. Cautiously, you come up, watching the group now crowding around the water dispenser, playfully telling each other to hurry up.

Connor lightly pats your shoulder with excitement, and you scrunch your face, anticipation swirling in your stomach as one by one, they begin taking sips from their water bottles. Your jaw drops as Mark forms a snout, his hands flying up to his face.

"W-what?" He sputters, moving closer to his reflection in the mirror. "What is-"

The rest of his words became soft squeals, his whole body shrinking and shifting into a stark white bunny in the blink of an eye.

“Um? Did that just-?”

“How did-”

“You have bunny ears!” Ellis shouts, pointing at Clarisse while she formed a pair of her own. Clarisse didn’t have time to comment as Ellis joins her half-brother. One by one, they began shrinking, and small shrieks fill the room.

"What are you guys doing?" The three of you practically jump out of your skin, heads snapping in the direction of the voice.

Percy’s eyes are wide and curious, furrowing his eyebrows at the chaos breaking out in the Ares cabin. You open your mouth to say something but stop yourself, not wanting to blow your cover.

“It must have been the water!”

“When I see the Stoll Brother’s I’m going to-” Squeal.

Travis’s face was a tint of pink from holding in his laughter. He doesn’t respond, simply waving at Percy to come and see for himself. You and Percy exchange a smile before turning back to the window.

His chance at seeing the pool of white bunnies went down the drain; the four of you met with an angry Clarisse instead. To your dismay, she didn't completely transform. Her normally brown eyes are now crimson and her mouth transformed into a whiskered snout. White bunny ears peek through her brown hair, making it look like she was wearing one of those bunny ear headbands they sell at the pharmacy around Easter time. You’d be laughing as much as the Stoll Brothers if Clarisse’s stare wasn’t fixed on you and only you. You give her a nervous smile as you step away carefully, and the moment Clarisse moves to jump out the window, the four of you bolted.

“She’s gonna kill us!” You exclaim; Travis and Connor burst into laughter, hands over their stomach as they run beside you.

“Split up! She can’t kill all of us!” Travis suggests, already making a beeline into the forest with Connor.

“Yeah, cause she’s gonna go after me!”

“We’ll weave you a nice shroud!”

“WOW, THANKS!”

The cackles of the two made you roll your eyes, and you make a mental note never to help them with a prank ever again. You grunt as Percy grabs onto your wrist, and you stumble for a second until you catch up to his pace.

“You can’t run from me forever!” Clarisse shouts, running close behind. She was right, you couldn’t avoid her forever, but you just needed her to calm down. "When I catch you, I'm tying your necks like shoelaces!"

You cringe at the threat as you and Percy burst through the swinging doors of the Arts and Craft center, weaving your way through the campers.

“Sorry!” You shout over their groans as you’re pulled into one of the hallways. Seeing the closets along the walls of the hallway gave you an idea. You bite your lip, focusing on the door leading to the outside. Reaching your hand out, you flick your fingers forward, causing the door to burst open fast enough for it to lock in place.

The moment you approach the last door in the hallway, you grab the knob. A grunt leaves Percy’s lips as you drag him in the closet with you. He loses his footing from the change of direction, spinning hastily toward you, and the both of you stagger into the closet. You yelp, the weight of Percy’s body sending your back right against the wall, and the knob comes out of grip right as it slams closed.

Percy grunts, his hands push against the wall beside your frame, promptly lifting himself away from you.“Sor-”

“Shh.” Your index finger rests your lips as you look at the door. Your shoulders tense up, afraid that Clarisse had heard the slam. Soon, Clarrise’s pounding footsteps rise like a crescendo and, to your relief, gradually fades as she runs right out of the building. A shaky sigh leaves your lips before glancing at Percy, who’s directly in front of you. You smile sheepishly, foot moving to step back only to be met with the wall.

Percy’s heart beats loud in his chest, and he was hoping that you couldn’t hear it. He tried to step back as well, but Percy’s foot was met with the shelves behind him to his dismay. He scans your face in the dim lighting for a few seconds. Suddenly, he’s reminded of how he stumbled on top of you, making him too embarrassed to look at you any longer. His focus falters to the shelves beside him, forcing himself to find interest in the tubs of paint stacked on them.

“It’s your fault,” you accuse after some silence. Shock flashes across Percy’s face,

“Huh?”

“Because you were so nosey, you blew our cover.” You reach over, and you poke his shoulder. Percy’s peers down at where you poked him as if he was offended.

“At least I ran with you. Travis and Connor left you for dead!”

“Great friends, they are, huh?” You ask, your voice laced with playful sarcasm.

Percy laughs, "I think you've taken the trophy of being the most hated by Clarisse," he jokes.

"I don't think I can one-up you. You literally fought her dad and won," you point out. "I think if we split up, she'd definitely come after me. Imagine the last thing you see when you die is Clarisse looking like… that. "

Percy laughs and you laugh, too, feeling comfortable with making light of the situation now that you were out of harm's way.

"How did that even happen!?”

"I don't know!” You sigh, bummed that Clarisse had managed to be the only person who stayed human. “Maybe she didn’t drink enough water?”

“Wow, the only person you needed to transform into a bunny just didn’t,” Percy says as he crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the shelves.

“Pretty much.”

“You have amazing luck, Y/n,” he says sarcastically.

“Whatever,” you mumble, eye faltering to the shelves beside you. Percy’s laughter fills the small space, making it hard to prevent the smile from creeping on your lips. The sound of footsteps interrupts you as you open your mouth to say something else and it brings Percy’s laughter to an end. Your shoulders are practically up to your ears as you look into Percy’s wide eyes before he mouths, “we’re dead.” If it is Clarisse, you guys are cornered, and you prepare to shadow travel even if it meant you might pass out, especially if you bring him with you.

You furrow your eyebrows as you hear two familiar voices, and soon the door opens, revealing you both to Beckendorf and Silena. There is a moment of silence, Silena blinking at the both of you, her head tilted slightly to the side as she observes the tension. Beckendorf’s right eyebrow raises, glancing between you and Percy’s face.

"Ehm, is this like a seven-minutes-in-heaven thing?" Your face gets hot, and you exchange a look with Percy, noticing the tips of his ears are bright red.

"No, we were hiding from Clarisse,” he stutters out, gaze snapping to the two, and you nod quickly,

"Because I turned her into a bunny and-"

"She didn't transform all the way-"

"It's okay. Charles and I would sneak around at first, too," Silena interrupts, her lips curled up in a satisfied smile.

"We were just talking!" You and Percy say in unison. The more defensive you got, the more suspicious you both came off. From the way Beckendorf and Silena smiled at each other, you knew they weren’t buying it.

Beckendorf shrugs, and he steps forward, reaching between the two of you to grab the box of beads from the shelf. He hums, “It’s clear we interrupted something. I just needed this. You guys can carry on,” he teases, amused at how embarrassed the both of you are.

“But- we-” you stutter, unable to finish your sentence, Beckendorf shutting the door, and Silena makes a sound between a giggle and a squeal as they walk away.

Percy clears his throat, interrupting the short silence that fell between the two of you, “Um, should we…?” His voice falters, not finishing his sentence, but you already knew what he was going to ask.

“Yeah,” you agree awkwardly, opening the closet. “Let’s go,” you mumble, stepping out with Percy close behind you.

"Where should we go now?" Percy asks, opening the door to the outside for you, and you smile, finding it sweet. You thank him shortly, and you shrug,

"I'm not sure, but I don't think Clarisse has calmed down yet…" you trail off, catching sight of a fuming Clarisse standing beside Chiron a few meters away. “Dammit.”

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

You shift on your feet, standing in Chiron’s office alongside Travis, Connor, and Percy. Clarisse’s crimson eyes are still narrowed at you as Chiron sighs, backing into his wheelchair before his backside disappears, allowing him to sit fully into it.

"I understand you guys are just having fun. However, I believe the Ares Cabin deserves a little break from the pranks, don't you think?" He asks as he looks at Connor and Travis.

You fiddle with your fingers, your shoulders slumped along with Connor and Travis’s shoulders. Travis nods, and he hums as if he considers it for a moment.

“We could prank the Apollo Cabin instead?" Connor suggests, and Chiron opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. You press your lips together in an attempt to refrain from smiling, discovering that Percy was doing the same. You became more amused at his face turning a little pink as he holds in his laughter, and you quickly look at your hands to recollect yourself.

“I’d prefer you tone down the pranking altogether,” Chiron clarifies. Connor frowns, and he nods slowly,

“Oh. Yeah, we could do that, I guess,” he mumbles, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Chiron nods, shifting his gaze to you,

“Y/n, what did you used to transform them into rabbits?” You hum softly,

“It’s a shape-shifting potion from my spellbook,” you explain.

“How long will it take for them to transform back?” You look up for a second, trying to remember your notes. While recalling the day you went through Ernest’s potions book to jot the recipe in your Book of Shadows, you realize how many forms of the potion there were depending on the transformation length. Ernest had mentioned in passing something about reading his notes carefully. It wasn’t until now did you realize that the potion you had made was not the short-term one.

“About … 24 hours,” you admit, and Connor snorts beside you.

“What!?” Clarisse snaps, her fists clenching on her side. “You mean, they’re going to be like that until tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yes, that’s what 24 hours means,” you snap back; her presence was enough to annoy you. Clarisse’s glare burns into your face, and she moves to take a step, about to charge at you.

“Clarisse, please! They will be punished accordingly,” Chiron reassures her, making her halt in her place, and she groans, her arms crossing over her chest as she waits for Chiron’s verdict.

"Well, I was going to assign you four to clean the Pegasus stables, but now that it has come to my attention that the potion lasts 24 hours, your punishment is to feed and clean up after them while they’re under the spell."

“Ew, I’d rather clean the stables,” Connor mutters, and you furrow your eyebrows,

“But wouldn’t the pegasus stables be more work?” You ask, hoping to get him to change your punishment. The last thing you wanted to do was be surrounded by a bunch of angry bunnies. Sure they were small, but you did not doubt in your mind that you were going to be attacked by them.

“They are a big group; I think it is fair that Clarisse gets assistance in taking care of them,” He says calmly, his fingers intertwined as they rest on the desk in front of him. “Feed them before you go off to dinner, accommodate their sleeping arrangements and clean up after them before morning check-ins,” he decides. You sigh softly. At this point, as long as Clarisse wasn’t on the hunt to kill you, you were okay with it.

As Chiron dismisses you, you catch the satisfied smile Clarisse was sporting, and you felt your anger swirling in your chest. You grunt as you turn on your heels, Travis and Connor behind you as Percy walks by your side. You sigh, lazily trotting off the steps of the big house,

“This...”

“Sucks,” Percy finishes your sentence, and you nod, the both of you frowning.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

“Stop biting me!” You complain, nudging off the crowd of bunnies from your arm. Percy laughs, seated on the floor beside you as he helps you make a nest of blankets big enough for the bunnies.

“They hate you,” he comments, amused. His smirk falls flat, and he hisses as one of them gets a good bite on his finger. “Ow!” He squints at the bunny before picking it up. It was your turn to laugh, and you watch curiously as he walks to one of the dressers and plopping it on top. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re in time-out,” he grumbles.

“Wait, that’s actually really smart!” You look down at the bunnies around you. “They can’t jump from that high!” As you reach for the closest bunny, they run out of your reach, squealing, and soon they were huddled under a bed.

Percy smiles as they disperse, “well, now they’ll leave us alone,” he says as he sits beside you to continue piling the extra blankets you found. “You should have let me play that rock-paper-scissors game with them,” Percy mentions.

The two of you were stuck making a makeshift bed for the Ares campers since Travis and Connor had to round up their cabin for curfew. Well, one of them could have done it, but they insisted that it was a two-person job. You said it was unfair if they skipped out and they offered to settle who will go with an intense rock-paper-scissors game; best of three. You had accepted the challenge and lost miserably.

"I should have known there was no point in trying with their luck."

"Yeah, you walked right into that."

You side-eye him, "anyways, you would have lost.”

“How are you so sure?”

"Because, you just would have," you say shortly, and you smile as he turns to you.

“Well, considering how lucky you've been all day," he says sarcastically, and you squint at him. "I would have had a better chance,” he gloats.

“You’ve been real sassy today,” you mumble, and he laughs. “It’s fine. There’s not that much to do anyway.” Carefully, you roll the sides of the blankets into a nest shape after Percy finishes piling them. You rise on your feet, “It’d sleep there if I were a bunny. What do you think?”

“I would too. It seems comfortable,” Percy smiles as he stands up.

"Are you losers done?" Clarisse walks into the cabin with bowls of water for her siblings, and you roll your eyes as she puts them on the ground.

"Yeah, is it to their liking?" You ask with fake politeness, straining a smile. Clarisse observes the bundle of blankets as her siblings get in to try it out. She furrows her eyebrows, listening attentively to the various squeals. She had inherited most of the bunny traits, and though she didn’t transform completely, she could understand what they were saying.

“Eh, it’s good enough,” she concludes after hearing all the complaints of her siblings. “I’m sick of seeing your faces; get out.” She didn’t have to tell you twice, and you don’t waste any time as you turn on your heels. You were sick of seeing her face too.

Walking down the steps of the Ares Cabin, Percy follows beside you. A slight hum comes from his lips, and you look over,

“I was wondering when you’d come back to sword fighting,” he mentions, and you nod, recalling that you had agreed to attend classes after sparing with him a couple of weeks ago. “Your brother has been coming more often; he’s gotten a lot better.”

“That’s why my body has been aching so much,” you mutter more to yourself. For the past week, you thought you were staining your body in your sleep.

“Huh?”

“Long story,” you wave your hand, and you think about his question.

If you were completely honest, you weren’t as depressed about what had happened anymore. After you talked with Percy, you had finally come to terms with many of the thoughts that were tormenting you. However, you still stayed locked up in the Hermes Cabin because in the past week or so, you’ve gotten so much studying done. You wanted to stay in and read, and you were planning on milking your excused absences for as long as you could. But now, you considered that maybe you should return to your normal activities. Connor and Travis were becoming more worried, so were Atticus and Lou Ellen.

“I could join tomorrow,” you say hesitantly, your heart fluttering as Percy’s face brightens up. “Are you that excited to beat me up?” You joke, and Percy laughs, shaking his head.

“No! It’s just… it’s weird not seeing you around.” He admits shyly as he looks away. The cool summer breeze blows on your warm cheeks, and you swallow,

“I’ll go tomorrow,” you confirm, sounding more sure of yourself this time. Once you approach the steps of the Hermes cabin, you turn to him. “Good night, Perce.”

The sides of Percy’s eyes crinkle as he nods, “Good night,” he says as he slowly backs away. “And try to wake up on time, yeah? I’m not feeding the Ares cabin alone tomorrow,” he teases. You did have a habit of being the last person to arrive at breakfast. He must have noticed.

“Yeah, yeah. Worry about yourself, waterboy.” You smile, hearing him scoff. Opening the door to the Hermes cabin, you look back at him one more time. You take in the wide grin on his face, and he nods,

“Got it. I’ll remember that when you’re being chased by Clarisse again.” Your mouth drops open, eyes glinting at his banter.

“You better go before the harpies eat you!” You shoo him away as he laughs, then with a short salute of his two fingers, he walks off to his cabin.

masterlist taglist: @xxyrr @nct127bee @mochabreezeee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @-thatgirloverthere- @sanovr @passionswift @nanskidoodle @Slytherclaw-kitten @zhethugisa

#my writing #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson and the olympians fanfiction #pjo fanfic #pjo x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson fluff

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bleulone · 4 years ago

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i love your analysis so much! i have a question as well, like, how do you envision polin's sex scenes ? thanks for your answer (:

Hey! Thank you very much :)) I have no idea if they are that even good but I’m happy you like them. It’s just my brain tending to produce some iNsIGhiTfUL analyses though they usually end up drowned under a huge wave of stupidity and horrid spelling/grammatical mistakes XD. So, about Penelope and Colin’ sex scenes, I guess we’re getting spicy in this house 🌶. I mean, I don’t blame you. Who’s not hot for Polin ?! The steamy Polin hours have already begun and they’re legit challenging my patience. (Be still my Polin heart, be still).

Okay, without further ado, let’s talk about sex baby, shall we ? It’s a pretty long answer/meta so bear with me.

I don’t know if you’ve read Romancing Mister Bridgerton, but a quick reminder (for those who haven’t... yet), there are a bunch of iconic steamy scenes that I’m dying to watch on screen. First we have the famous “thank you” scene where Penelope, now a 28 year-old spinster, asks Colin to kiss her because she doesn’t want to die without having been kissed... then ends up thanking him— which happens to be humiliating for our 33 year-old boy because he thinks that she thinks he did it out of pity while he absolutely did not. The man definitely felt butterflies in his stomach... and in other places as well lol. We also have the ICONIC carriage scene where Colin gives Pen’s generous bosoms™ the attention they deserve. This is followed by his proposal. Later on, after the announcement of their engagement, there’s a pretty hot make-out scene on Lady Violet’s sofa. Finally, we have their first time in Colin’s bedroom, after sneaking out of their own engagement party... which leads Colin to push the wedding date forward. At this point, I just love their horniness, especially Colin’s who’s just so freaking amazed by Penelope for more than 300 pages straight (duh! who isn’t ???).

When you say envision, I suppose you mainly refer to the way those scenes will be filmed right ? I’m afraid I don’t have an advanced knowledge in film-making but let me start by telling you what elements need to be depicted. I would love Shonda and Chris to capture the real essence of our boos’ feelings : the yearning, the love, the respect and the guilt (specifically on Colin’s side) in their eyes. The more we move forward throughout the seasons, the more we see different layers of the perceptions of they have of each other, going from a childish idealization/immature ignorance to a sudden realization. A mature one. Penelope goes beyond the facade of the charming devil-may-care guy to meet the seriousness and temper of her significant other. Meanwhile Colin discovers how confident, powerful and attractive this woman is and always has been. It echoes what I’ve written about the importance of the gaze in Polin’s love story in this meta. By the time season 4 hits, man... their heart eyes and eye-fucking will jump OUT XD, all fibers of their beings, burning with need. The fact that this evolution took literally years is very emotionally painful, which is why I find it important to keep the slowness aspect of their relationship before and during their love making. I’m really looking forward a slow build-up toward their intimacy. It would differ from Daphne and Simon who merely shared one hell of a kiss in Lady Trowbridge’s garden then shared their sexy times after they married or Anthony and Siena’s rough sex... In fact, there’s a certain (sweet) ardent tenderness in Polin I like due to the fact that they’re slowly (re)discovering each other, as adults. Since they were both introduced in season 1, the audience will have all the time in the world to notice numerous evidences of the many natures of love they have for one another : from an affectionate and friendly love to a more carnal and enduring one.

Okay so, in terms of filming, with Netflix’s Bridgerton being a show which promotes the female gaze, it wouldn’t be that much of a surprise watching those sex scenes being shot from Penelope’s perspective, like it was the case with Daphne in the first installment of the series. Most of the time, sex scenes in Historical Romance are not gratuitous. Their presence serve an important purpose in a hero/heroine’s journey. In Penelope’s case, they’re here to help her learn to embrace and love herself. In other words, sexuality is synonym of freedom. I don’t know if they’ll show a lot of skin, but I won’t be complaining considering the fact that we’ll have the chance to get a chief kiss treat on screen : a plus size woman in a major successful Netflix period drama getting a love story as romantic and steamy as other more “fit” female characters. No, your weight doesn’t prevent you from being desirable at all. As far as I’m concerned, I haven’t watched a plus-size female character portrayed as an attractive protagonist in a period drama (please if you have, let me know, I can be wrong). Having a beautiful half bare curvy body like Nicola’s being equally filmed like numerous slim actresses will be so inspiring and powerful to watch, especially for (young) women who struggle, like Penelope, to love their body shape which, to them, doesn’t “fit” the “beauty standards”. By showing her female gaze and portraying her as seductive, Pen’s “supposed” imperfections transform themselves into mighty assets, loved and worshipped by our dashing Mister Bridgerton. That’s body positivity at its finest darling ;).

It will be deliciously erotic watching the undressing process being exquisitely slow, garment by garment, while their gaze are all heated and hungry. Their sex/make-out scenes should be tender and passionate, sweet and raw. The lightning, colored by a dark blood orange yellow or a blue depending the locations^^. Moreover, the depiction of the exploration of Penelope’s desire can translate itself thanks to multiple close ups. For instance, I can imagine a few ones on Pen’s fingers gently roaming over the smooth skin of Colin’s firm chest and back/touching his hair right after he removed his shirt. And a disheveled Colin letting his hands and lips making a journey of their own, mapping, conquering the alluring unknown territory that is her gorgeous voluptuous body... kissing her on the places he knows oh too well will give her pleasure (is this me wanting him to go down on her?— um yeah I sure hope it IS! If he doesn’t, trust me imma riot... AGAIN). Even a close up on her face while Colin is performing his addictively pleasing torment will be a marvelous proof of the female gaze. By the way, why not even adding a post-coital scene after their first time ? I can picture Penelope waking up first and contemplate her handsome soon-to-be husband. She’d bring her hand to his face and let it travel all around his forehead, his cheeks, his lips, his neck and let it rest on his heart— making sure that what she’s just experience was real... obviously, Colin will wake up in the process and he’ll take this as his cue to go for another round of sexy times under the sheets.

Showing Pen reaction is essential according to me because she was stuck with the idea that she would never experience the luxury of being loved, giving pleasure nor receiving it... she ended up being happily wrong. Throughout her multiple intimate encounters with Colin, I want her to progressively realizes that she can be an active partner. In the carriage, she knew she had an effect on him, but it’s not until their first time that she actually realizes it. Hence the reason why I WANT the mirror’s introduction in one of their sex scenes. Here’s as a little reminder an excerpt from chapter 18 :

“I want to see you sitting up," he groaned, "so I can see them full and lovely and large [about Pen’s breasts]. And then I want to crawl behind you and cup you." His lips found her ear and his voice dropped to a whisper. "And I want to do it in front of a mirror."

“Now?” she squeaked.

He seemed to consider that for a moment, then shook his head. "Later," he said, and then repeated it in a rather resolute tone. "Later.”

It would be such a shame if the show doesn’t use the incredible potential of this object (/kink). I mean, the symbolism is pretty clear. Penelope has always fled her “ugly” reflection but it seems like Colin wants to show the real her, the beauty that holds every single inch her alabaster skin and the effects they have on him. Thus, I would love to watch a scene where Colin just praises the alluring goddess and siren that is Penelope Featherington. Just imagine! Just IMAGINE the power of this scene : a shirtless Colin sitting behind her on a bed, meeting her gaze in the mirror, his lips touching her right ear, biting and licking the lobe sometimes, whispering all kinda of dirty yet poetic words to her while letting his hands caress her thighs, her hips, her arms, her lovely bosoms™... oof. At the same time, a wonderful and harmonic instrumental music will play in the background and match the melodic partition of shudders, breathes and moans let out by our lovers. I can imagine Luke inspiring himself from his performance in the 2019 short film, Youth In Bed. The way he conveyed the awe and the yearning on his face, in his eyes with his mouth slightly open when he knelt before his partner Shun Yin was just captivating and— and so Colin! I cannot help but bring myself to picture Ethan, the character he played in YIB, in a Polin steamy scene. I cannot unsee this anymore jsksk. I mean, all this gifset radiates this book4chapter18!Colin, you cannot tell me otherwise!

Also, I would love Shonda and Chris to keep Pen and Colin’s cute/emotional pillow talk. One thing I really love in JQ’s books is the concern she gives to her male protagonists about potentially hurting their partner during the act of penetration. Colin is a rake, and what his experience with women taught him is that he needs to be very gentle with the love of his life. It was so adorable seeing him not wanting to harm her and asking her to tell him if he does anything she doesn’t like 🥺. Plus, before actually doing it, Colin and Penelope shared a few kisses and just laid down side by side, confessing their love. Though our boy kept feeling guilty about not returning her love after all these years. He desires nothing but to make up for the lost time and show his love and desire during this special intimate moment. I hope they’ll keep all of chapter 18’s dialogue. It’s just so telling of our boos’ feelings, you see.

All in all, I can’t wait to watch those Polin steamy scenes. As much as I may sound crazy, I want them after two other seasons of pure pining and yearning in order to have a very good payoff. I’m not an expert on depicting intimacy on screen, but I loved so far what Lizzy Talbot, the intimacy coordinator who worked on the show, have done in season 1. Sex scenes in Bridgerton seem very real and dive you in the intimacy of the moment, leaving you all flustered and hot. So probs to her! I have faith in her work and have no doubts about what her and the directors will serve us in future seasons. Though, in the end, I think it’s mostly up to the actors, Nicola and Luke, to see if they’re comfortable filming sex scenes.

If you guys have any suggestions or wishes for those steamy polin scenes, please do share them :) by commenting on this post or by sending me asks! I’d love reading your thoughts/take on this very important matter ;))

#bleulone answers #meta and gush #polin #colin x penelope #bridgerton #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #polin meta #ask #anon #luke newton #julia quinn #nicola coughlan

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pinkhairedlily · 4 years ago

Text

Every Glance A Step Closer

Prompt: Glances | AO3 link here. Connect with me on Twitter. Happy SS Month everyone! 🌸🍅🥗 @ssskmonth

“This one barely goes out of her laboratory. I swear to god she smells like formaline.”

“He smells like the dust and cobwebs in the library. I cannot even pronounce what he’s doing – archi…something. I just know he handles lots of old papers and books. B-o-r-i-n-g.”

“So anyway, Haruno Sakura meet Uchiha Sasuke.”

This was her one free day in her experiment period week, but she needed to steam off for a night and so she allowed her friend to tug her along for a chill night drink. What Sakura didn’t expect was to socialize with a small group of people in their year and to suffer the cold indifference of the guy in front of her.

To her another surprise, he held out a hand to her. “Hello there.” She took it, slightly conscious whether she used her formaline-cancelling hand lotion. A brief and firm shake and he quicky turned away.

“Sasuke finally speaks.”

“That hello sounded a little spicier.”

“Oh my, that hand holding definitely had some electricity.”

The cajoling and teasing finally stopped when the first round of beers came in. Local university gossip was the go-to conversation opener, from the open secret student-teacher relationships to recent couple break-ups. It eventually led to Sasuke and his list of confessions.

“I heard you turned down Mio from fashion design department.”

“No way. I heard she was approached by Celine for a gig.”

“Really Sasuke? That makes her the fifth girl you dumped for this week alone.”

“You never actually had a girlfriend, did you?”

Sakura stared at him doe-eyed, genuinely curious of his answer. He returned her gaze and raised one brow. “I have high standards.”

Oh wow, what a douche, Sakura thought. Hoots erupted in their table but only for a few seconds. While the drinking and the exchanges went on, Sakura found herself wanting to go home early. She was bored and her neck was tired from not looking at him. Under the guise of stretching her already strained neck, she stole a glance, hoping to have a brief moment to take in all of his features and remember his face.

But he was already looking at her. His eyes went to the door of the restaurant then back to her. Bored? He mouthed.

Sakura looked at the door, knowing perfectly what he meant. She chugged her supposedly last bottle of beer and made a small gap with her thumb and index finger. He caught her signal and started to stand up. Their group was tipsy enough not to notice their sudden movements as they shuffled out of the door.

She halted after a few steps, Sasuke’s figure already paces in front of her, wondering whether she should say goodbye or just walk towards the opposite direction back to her apartment. She didn’t think too much of it and quickly chose the latter.

She had to get ice cream first though, a sugar rush to help jolt her senses awake. She was choosing between chocolate and strawberry when a large figure stood beside her.

“A vanilla one, please,” Sasuke said, looking smug with his hands both in his pockets. “Your treat.”

Sakura felt weirded out by the fact that he actively kept on engaging her. His reputation preceded him, but she decided to humor him for tonight. “So library science and you’re an archivist.”

“Intern archivist actually. So you actually know me.” There was arrogance in his voice that made Sakura almost choke on her ice cream.

“Process of elimination. There is no male major in our year in the History department.” She glanced at him and saw that smug look slowly transition into a slight flush of embarrassment. Cute.

“And what if it was a hobby?” Sasuke fiddled with his still unopened vanilla ice cream.

“There was a job posting in the bulletin specifically calling for Library Science students.” Their feet led them to the park still bustling with university night life and settled on a bench under the canopy of a fully bloomed dogwood tree. “See, I’m not your admirer.”

“Well, that’s a downer,” he smirked.

They talked like that for a while, fleetingly exploring related topics to their degree programs, the usual prominent teachers, the busy schedules, until Sakura finished her chocolate and strawberry popsicles. It was on her way home, finally this time, that she realized he never ate his ice cream.

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

She next saw him on their building’s rooftop with a group of friends, a piece of unsmoked cigarette in between his fingers. He quickly met her eyes, did a brief nod, and looked away. She inadvertently expected more than that but she wasn’t here for a smoke break, and it wasn’t her intention to take it further. She was here for a quick getaway from her microscope and to appreciate the city view dotted with the flowers of spring.

He kept glancing her way, however. He would be in the middle of a conversation and his eyes would stray to her, and she would catch it in her periphery, trying not to notice it. She got tired after a few repetitions of this, and the next time he glanced, she caught his gaze.

Stop it, she mouthed.

I’m bored, he mouthed back. Walk with me. His fingers mimicked the gesture, his fingers walking in the air.

She put her hands together and slightly bowed in apology. Next time, she winked at him before running back to her laboratory, a small smile painted on her lips.

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

It became like this for the next few weeks; they conversed through glances and awkward gestures whenever they were in public with their friends. When it was time to come home, they would walk in separate ways and meet again in the park under the same dogwood tree and they would converse for hours. It was mostly Sakura word-vomiting about her experiments while Sasuke would look at her with abandoned fascination.

“Stop doing that,” Sakura called him out one time.

“Stop doing what?” Sasuke asked, his ember eyes never leaving her face.

“You stare too much I feel like I’m melting.”

Sasuke made a small grunt and wore his hoodie over his head to mess with her more. He waved his hands on both sides of his face, and she immediately understood the reference of a horse having its blinders on. “Good because usually I’m the one being stared at.”

Sakura reached out to his hoodie and tightened the strings around his neck. “You’re hopeless.”

He leaned forward, almost touching her lips, his face still between her palms. “Hmm, maybe I am.”

Sakura moved away just as quickly as he moved into her personal space, a hot flush creeping to her cheeks. She hated this particular situation since blushing always made her look like a cherry tomato.

“Cute.” Sasuke apparently said his thoughts aloud because he was taken aback the moment she glanced back at him. “Cool, I said cool.”

She laughed this off just as he completely covered his face inside his hoodie.

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

She visited the basement section of the library for reference materials. Her writeup was due tomorrow and she was missing a section on historical evolution of vaccines and dosages for the viral DNA she uncovered. The small library slip in her hand, she made her way to the dimly lit rows on Biology. The shelves were twice taller than her, but there were spaces in between stacked books.

Would make it very easy to spot a ghost, Sakura chided to herself. A shadow moved along the row adjacent to the Biology section, but she dismissed this as the library staff. Her fingers traced the spines of ragged books and examined the list of recommended titles in her hand. When she raised her head, ember eyes stared back at her between the spaces of the opposite row.

Hi, Sasuke mouthed. He glanced around and seeing no one, he whispered, “Can I come over to your side?”

She found it hard to stop her grin from rising. “More eyes, the better.”

It took only a few minutes for Sasuke to find all the titles in her list, but they littered around, walking in between shelves, taking one random book and flipping its pages, stopping when they find something interesting. When heavy footfalls were heard on the stairs, Sakura inclined her head, gesturing she needed to go.

Sasuke seemed to misunderstand as he pulled her through the sleeve of her cardigan to the area further behind the room, and as the shadows grew darker, and the noise became more muted, she heard the racing beat of her heart.

Finally reaching the wall, Sasuke slumped to the floor and patted the space beside him. Sakura followed suit, consciously leaving a space between them as she was slowly becoming hyper-aware of their proximity.

“How are you faring so far? Done with the requirements?” Sasuke asked, his voice low but audible enough for her.

Sakura nodded, and after beat, rolled her eyes at him. “Shouldn’t you be out there assisting others?”

“I believe you need more immediate help.” Sasuke pulled his knees in to rest his chin on and trained his eyes on her. “Sakura.”

“Sasuke.”

The longest minute of silence hung between them, tension strung by the stare, until Sakura broke it off with her eyes shifting to the floor. “What are you doing?”

“Flirting,” he said like it’s a matter-of-fact. “This is what they usually do to me.”

“And what should I do?” She let the words roll out of her mouth, unsure why she asked, uncertain also of what he felt. She met his gaze again.

And in that moment, he just sincerely looked at her. “Flirt back.”

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

Sakura was done for the school year. She will be officially graduating in a month, and to celebrate, she went out with their group for a sem-ender discotheque clubbing. She was gonna shoot her shot for a one-night stand with literally anyone who had chemistry with her – haha she was just kidding. As this seemed to be the final cap-off to her university life, she went all out with her clothes Sakura-style – basically a boxy cropped tea, high waisted jeans, and old heels her best friend gave to her in pity.

This was actually her first club experience, but she was glad to be with veteran friends. The first few minutes inside a closed space with bass boosted, unfamiliar crowds, and lots of skinship made her very uncomfortable. Her only reprieve was the free-flowing drinks – ironically she can handle alcohol well. The disco lights would have made it difficult to spot faces, but she found him in the dark, on the corner directly across her group, his eyes already glued on her.

She wondered if he ever forgave her for scrambling out of his presence in the reference section last time, explicitly avoiding his request to flirt back. It seemed like she worried for nothing since Sasuke raised his glass to her and mouthed congratulations. She raised her glass back, resolving to mind her own business tonight. But he kept looking, a smirk etched on his beautiful face, urging her to meet him halfway.

She didn’t need to look for an excuse as her friends suddenly pulled her into the harmless mosh pit of friendly grinding. Sakura allowed herself to move to the beat, enjoying the bubble offered by the club to lose herself for a few seconds. But she kept glancing towards his direction, his eyes looking for her in the mass of bodies. At first, the glances were mischievous, like playing hide-and-seek, then they held gravity, heavy lidded and palpable.

Sasuke was impatient, and soon enough, at her next spin on her heels, he was right behind her, his hands hovering over her arms, seeking consent to touch. Sakura turned to face him, one part shy, other parts unnerved, and she slowly encircled her arms around his neck, her eyes a definite yes. His hands went to her waist, and he brought her closer to his embrace.

“You don’t have your hoodie though,” Sakura said, a little louder over the crooning of Carly Rae Jepsen to Gimmie Love. “Someone will definitely see you.”

Sasuke closed whatever distance was between them and brought his lips to her ears. “That’s a relief then. I want to be seen with you.”

“Simp,” Sakura teased. “You’re probably expecting a confession out of me, aren’t you?” This was a long time coming and she wanted to get it over with tonight especially when she had alcohol buzzing on her side.

“I am actually,” Sasuke said. “I was hoping to beat you to it in the library last time, but you ran away. Coward.”

“What?”

“What? Didn’t you hear me?”

“You like me.” Sakura said in realization. She edged her face away from his hold to take a good look at his embarrassed face. “Oh, you really do.”

“You could be dense sometimes, Sakura.” Sasuke poked her forehead playfully, and he was rewarded with a bubbly laughter from her.

Their friends finally noticed them and the intense skinship happening. The yells and woots started to drown out the speakers.

“That took you two long enough, huh?”

“They really waited for the end of the school year to do their big reveal.”

“As if the whole school doesn’t know already.”

“What?” Sasuke and Sakura asked in unison.

“It was the constant eyesmex.”

“Really, they do it every time with no shame. It gives me secondhand embarrassment.”

“Right? Sometimes I think I need to yell get a room.”

“Maybe they’ll get a room tonight.”

“Oh my god, shut up."

🌸 It's my first time participating actively for SS Month so please go easy on me haha. Work is loosely inspired by Nevertheless webtoon (which now has a Netflix adaptation). Hope you enjoyed reading!

#ssm21 #sasusaku month #sasusaku #ssm21d1 #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #sasuke #sakura #fanfic #anime fanfiction

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wiifactsplus · 4 years ago

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Note: This post is adding on to a Supper Mario Broth blog tweet. Feel free to visit the attached link to view it.

Supper Mario Broth On the My Nintendo website, the user's Mii will be engaged in a random activity on the top of the page. One of them is painting; clicking the Mii will reveal one of 8 paintings that appear with varying rarities, 5 of which are related to the Mario series.

This is not where the Mario references end in the "Mii Stage", as the My Nintendo website calls it internally. (Since I could not find this section of the My Nintendo website referring to it by any specific name elsewhere, this is what I will be calling it from now on.) There are many more to be found in the activities acted out by the Miis. Of course, it seems many qualities of My Nintendo are based off the Mario universe - the logo is shaped like Mario's hat, the platinum points have a Super Mushroom on them, and the gold points have a Super Star on them. However, the references go deeper than that.

But first, you’ll need a Mii. If you do not have a Mii in your Mii Studio, this sign will be sitting in the middle of the Mii Stage, bouncing up and down occasionally. Clicking on it takes you to my.nintendo.com/mii, which redirects to studio.mii.nintendo.com, the Mii Studio. This event is called “Mii unset”.

Here’s the full sprite, extracted from the (US English) site data:

And now, from the original tweet that sparked this post, here are all eight paintings extracted from the website data, thus being the highest quality versions of them.

Additionally, a behavior in this activity that was not mentioned by Supper Mario Broth (due to it not pertaining to any Mario reference in particular) is that while the Mii is painting, they will stop and think every three to four seconds. And once they are clicked on and present their painting, they'll assume a proud pose.

And here are the sprites extracted from the site:

As mentioned, the "easel" activity is not the only one to contain references to the Mario universe. The next one is the most interesting, known as "game". This activity has the user Mii playing a video game on one of three randomly chosen systems (technically four, as I'll explain in a moment): a NES, a SNES, or a Nintendo Switch. The game they're playing is randomly chosen depending on the system. Clicking the Mii will turn off the game, and the Mii will turn around furious until you click again to turn it back on, where the Mii will resume playing. The possible games on the NES are Super Mario Bros., Donkey Kong, and Ice Climbers.

The games on SNES are Super Mario World, Super Metroid, and Super Mario Kart.

The Nintendo Switch only has one game, Splatoon 2, and unlike the other games, the image on the screen isn't a regular in-game screenshot, but a promotional screenshot for the game.

Unfortunately, due to how the files work for this event, I can not be sure there isn't some extremely rare game I simply haven't come across yet. However, I can say that I spent a good few hours refreshing the page and didn't come across any more, so I believe it's safe to say there aren't any.

Now, 7 games may seem like an odd number, but in fact, there are 10. Take a look at the extracted sprites here.

Notice how you can see all the available systems here - the NES, SNES, Switch, and one more: the Famicom. The images that appear on the Famicom's screen are exactly the same as the NES ones, but are still stored as separate images, bringing the total to a round 10. If you live outside of Japan, you will likely never encounter the Famicom sprites. They only appear when you're logging in from Japan, and the NES ones will then also not show up any longer. However, I am based in the US, and couldn't get these sprites to load. This isn't the first time Nintendo has done this NES/Famicom location-based swap, either. It's happened many times before, even in Wii Music with the NES horn instrument. Instead, an anonymous user was able to help collect screenshots of the Famicom using CPU Mii Abby.

Next is the balloon activity. Here, the user Mii will be tied to three balloons, and flailing in a panic.

Clicking them once will pop the blue balloon, clicking them a second time will pop the red balloon, and clicking a third time will pop the yellow balloon, and the Mii will fall. Once it lands, it will strike a landing pose.

However, on a rare occasion, the yellow balloon will be replaced with a Boo enemy.

The first two balloons will function normally, but clicking on the Boo will instead make it fade and float away instead of pop.

Another rare event can happen once per day. Similar to the Boo, the yellow balloon will be replaced with a platinum point balloon, along with a thought bubble containing a platinum coin, and popping it will reward the user some platinum points.

However, whenever they land, they will instead strike a different pose, and hold a platinum coin.

The stage will then fade to white and the user will be rewarded with 10 platinum points. Here’s the extracted sprites:

Next, we have the fishing activity. Sometimes when this is encountered, the user Mii will have a thought bubble with a platinum point inside.

Though most of the time, the Mii will not have the thought bubble.

Every now and then, the user Mii will make a surprised face. If the user clicks the Mii during this time, then they will catch something.

If the user clicks the Mii any other time, the Mii will attempt to catch something anyways, but will pull up with nothing. Clicking again will make the Mii put their line back in the water.

If the Mii catches something with a thought bubble over their head, they will catch 10 Platinum Points.

Failing to nab a successful catch with the thought bubble over their head will not result in any penalty.

Any other time, a randomly selected object from these four will be caught instead. The first object is a boot.

The rest of the objects are Mario-related, starting with the Cheep Cheep enemy.

The next is the Blooper enemy.

And the last is Mario's cap.

Here's a dump of all of the sprites.

And last for Mario references, the "plant" activity. This one contains the rarest event of them all, along with a Pikmin reference. The most common event for this activity is a basic looking plant.

You can click on the user Mii to water the plant as many times as you'd like, but nothing will happen. The plant will just bounce in a small animation.

Here are all of the normal plant's sprites in its animations.

A rarer event can occur in this activity where instead of a basic-looking plant, a red Pikmin head will appear instead.

Like the plant, you can water the Pikmin as many times as you'd like. However, whenever you water it, it will peek its head out for a bit, also spraying some dirt particles.

Here are all of the Pikmin's sprites in its animations.

And lastly, the rarest event I've seen in the Mii Stage.

This plant may appear empty, but once you water it...

...a vine from Super Mario Bros. will sprout out from the pot, and won't stop until it's off the top of the screen.

Here is the image used for the vine.

And here is a dump of all of the other sprites in this activity.

But we've made it this far. Why stop at the activities with Mario references and just talk about all of the Mii Stage activities? There's only three left, so let's get through them!

In this activity, your Mii will appear holding either a red or black 3DS. Clicking them will cause them to disappear in a puff of smoke, and teleport somewhere else on the Stage. This is seemingly all it does.

There's this one where your Mii will appear on a ladder wiping down the gold points jar with a cloth.

Normally, your Mii will appear behind the jar, but sometimes will appear in front of the jar instead.

This activity doesn't seem to do anything, as attempting to click on your Mii will simply bring up the gold points menu as if your Mii wasn't there.

And lastly, the first activity many will see that appears weekly. The user Mii will run from the left and right sides of the screen, chasing a rolling platinum coin.

Clicking it will reward you with your weekly sign-in bonus of 30 platinum points, and the user Mii will dance in place, holding a platinum coin.

Here is a dump of all the sprites for the weekly activity, mostly consisting of Mii (female, lime green) animation poses:

And to close this lengthy post out, here are the loading sprites for the Mii Stage...

...And my recreation in .gif form.

Thank you for reading.

#Wii Facts Plus #My Nintendo #Mii #texture

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savrenim · 4 years ago

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tropesssss

this got long so I am putting it under a cut; all of my additions will be in italics

Hi, I’m the tvtropes anon who is also the recent long ifmlam question anon. I‘m very happy you like the page! I made it because I wanted people to enjoy it so it’s great to know someone does. I am very actively updating that page. I intend to comb every chapter for tropes and by then I should gotten most stuff that I’m capable of getting, so I’ll message you. “Most stuff” because I bet after all the chapters I’ll realize something in hindsight or learn a new trope that definitely applied to the fic and go back and add it, but that’s probably going to cause way fewer additions than when I’m actively rereading the fic in search of tropes. “That I’m capable of getting” because I’m one person and am capable of straight-up missing things, or of noticing things but not knowing it’s a trope or that it has a trope on TVTropes. Other people are likely to pick up on stuff I missed or know tropes I don’t. Oh! I spent awhile trying to find a trope for touch-activated powers and only found very specific powers like the Midas Touch instead of a trope for touch powers in general. If that trope exists I definitely missed it and there’s room for someone to add it. “Adding back stuff the original cut” needs to be its own trope I s2g. The closest standalone trope I found was Adaptation Expansion, which can be plain old additions the original didn’t have as well, it’s not exclusive to “the original cut this and now the adaptation put it back in” which is what I so desperately want. So until then, it’s an Adapted Out inversion… I also have lots of thoughts about Adapted Out and its inversion. There’s lots of different “types” I identified when I was crawling the Hamilton musical trope page for people the musical adapted out that the fic put back in. I might actually get to separate them by these “types” because the ifmlam Adapted Out section is getting hella long. It’s literally just turning into “a list of every historical person who wasn’t a full character in the musical” lol. Anyways, the “types” 1) Stuff in the source material literally does not exist in the adaptation. In the original book, Character A is 18 in the year 2000 and has 2 loving parents and 7 siblings. In the film adaptation, Character A is 18 in the year 2000 and has 2 loving parents and the truthful line “I’m an only child.” 2) Stuff in the source material doesn’t get included, but there’s no proof it doesn’t exist in the adaptation. The theatre adaptation doesn’t show or mention Character A’s parents, but they never say anything like “I never knew my parents.” 3) Stuff in the source material ultimately doesn’t get included in the adaptation (could be type 1 or 2), but it did get included in drafts of the adaptation/the adaptation creators really tried to include it but never found space for it so it never reached the drafts. Also noticed “types” for adding stuff back when I was working on the fic page. I’m wondering if Adapted Out inversion isn’t the right thing to describe some of these? This list is also going to include half-adding stuff back because it wasn’t 100% removed, which makes me wonder if everything I put under Adapted Out is being used correctly… maybe the characters not 100% removed are actually just an Adaptation Distillation and the readdition is an Expansion? I’ll look into it. But I digress. 1) Character gets a pretty vague reference in the adaptation’s adaptation, one that isn’t a crystal-clear identification of who exactly is being referenced. For example, the theatre adaptation of the film has Character A refer to “my siblings.” That means at least 2 siblings are included, but we have no clue if this means all 7 are included or not. Or the theatre adaptation of the film shows Character A dancing with someone at the ball. The original book had Character A dance with several characters at the same ball. It’s probably one of those characters, but we have no clue exactly which one. 2) Character gets a clear reference in the adaptation of the adaptation. The theatre adaptation of the film also has Character A refer to “my sister, the pilot” and the

original book has only one sister of Character A that is a pilot. It also has Character A buy baseball tickets with someone with pink hair, and the original book has only one character who buys baseball tickets with Character A and has pink hair. 3) Character is referenced/addressed by name or role in the adaptation of the adaptation. 4) Character appears in the adaptation of the adaptation. Mix and match. I’ve noticed a lot of vaguely referenced characters upgrading to clear references (a 1 situation upgrades to a 2), and clearly referenced characters who were only mentioned getting clear references and mentions again but also appearances (a 2 and 3 situation upgrades to a 2, 3, and 4). Now I realize if you start with a 2 and one-of-3-or-4 situation and upgrade to a 2 and both-3-and-4 situation, you weren’t wholly Adapted Out of the story, you just get your role expanded. I’m pretty sure that’s Adaptation Expansion instead and I’ll have to fix that (I just checked the Adaptation Expansion page again and it directly mentioned reintroducing darker elements of fairy tales back in, so adding back stuff that already existed counts too. It’s not just for making up new stuff to expand on what existed the way I thought). But I’m really not sure if going from a 1 to a 2 is Expansion or inverting Adapted Out. Maybe it’s a different trope entirely. Ditto with being unsure for going from a 1 and one-of-3-or-4 situation to a 1 and both-3-and-4. And for swapping which of 3 or 4 you have, but staying a one-of-3-and-4 situation. Also not that sure where to draw the lines. When does it stop being “yeah Hamilton Adapted this Out and you put it back in, it’s an Adapted Out inversion” and start being “this was way too far removed from/insignificant to the musical’s story to be considered Adapted Out of it, so putting this true historical thing in this fic is no longer Adapted Out”? (It’d definitely be Shown Their Work but I think there’s a more specific trope for it?) Like, is the incident where he talked to John Witherspoon is clearly referenced in a musical line without mentioning Witherspoon himself (and later he’d evacuate the college before the soldiers got near it), is that significant enough a line and significant a role in Hamilton’s life to make the guy Adapted Out and thus making it an Adapted Out inversion when you put him back in? If he’s not significant enough, Sally gets the same line count in the musical (“everyone who loves me has died”) that could make one think of her and how she’s not here, and gets around the same mentions in the fic. Is her “you actually don’t exist” version of not appearing as opposed to Witherspoon’s “we’re not mentioning you but you probably do exist” enough to make her count as Adapted Out in the musical and to thus make her inclusion an inversion of that trope in the fic? Troping this fic is probably my new hyperfixation. Why couldn’t it be math, I literally have a math class whose work I’m neglecting to trope this fic lmao kill me Oh one more thing I am worried the Round 2 musical will fly off into the tumblr namechange void someday. I know I have a copy, from when I could actually message you on tumblr and asked you permission to back up some tumblr posts and you said yes. So I thought of instead of asking you to put it somewhere else, I could get it backed up with that web.archive.org thing or the wayback machine or whatever, maybe those are the same things, in order to be able to link to your stuff somewhere other than tumblr and have it still be clearly yours (my current backup is a Google Doc full of copy/pastes from tumblr because I didn’t think of better options when I did that. If I was inclined to lie, I could very easily just… change it and claim it’s still a copy/paste from you). But then I realized it’s probably better for people to go to your actual pages to give you the traffic instead of the wayback machine or whatever. I don’t remember if you finished songs for the round 2 musical or if it was just a general outline, but this is a request/suggestion (not a demand) to have you

put that on ao3 too instead of only on tumblr? Again, thanks for writing it and for responding to me about it.

hi anon! thank you very very much and it is very cool to see how excited you are about getting all the tropes down! I'll be honest, I hadn't even heard of adapting in or adapting out or any of the trope inversion terminology or downplayed or just. all the lexicon that tvtropes uses, so I am not going to be useful in terms of you making those calls, but I both trust your judgement as well as the glory of a crowdedited thing is that the crowd will eventually reach consensus, hopefully!

one correction, though, re his sister Sally: whenever Wait For It is supposed to have been sung, which I'm assuming you're referencing, it is definitely before the late 1790s as the Reynolds Pamphlet hasn't gone down yet, and Sarah (Sally being a nickname) Burr-> Reeve died in 1797. so the musical line could only have been a reference to that specifically if they were ignoring timelines, which, to be fair, they do quite a lot (the 'first murder trial' bit from the end of Non-Stop actually happened in 1800.)

as for the round 2 musical, I do not have any plans of posting it on ao3, or really anywhere else besides tumblr. I do not post things to my ao3 that are not intended for and thus edited for my ao3. quite frankly, I barely intended to post 'musical, round 3' to ao3; it just got too long to make a reasonable tumblr post and I'd written a lot of active lyrics enough for it to become worthwhile to add that extra polish and throw it up as a fic. round 2 was mostly a thought experiment, I have no more written than the single tumblr post I wrote about it, I plan to write no more than that post, and I do not plan to bring it up to my ao3 standards and will not be posting it on ao3.

I'm honestly not too worried about traffic for ifmlam, and do not mind a link to wayback machine, or cross-posting the post to another website. honestly I don't really care if you put it up on ao3 yourself; I think someone else did it for they had a version of 'musical, round 2', and it was really cool and fell under the general 'fanworks of ifmlam' category. so if you care deeply about things being on ao3 you can post it yourself with a note of it was copy-pasted from the author's tumblr, I don't really care. however, if you're worried about preserving the proof of canoninity, I have no plans of changing my tumblr url mostly because I did so once and it was deeply inconvenient to try to go back and change it in all of my fic, but also tumblr might go down, who knows, wayback machine may very well be safer. also, like. these days I have moved on to enough other different work between both being interested and active in different fandoms as well as spending most of my time writing original work that it feels kind of like false advertising to direct people to my blog specifically for the sake of ifmlam with the expectation of more ifmlam content. when ifmlam gets new content, it'll be on ao3, and there really isn't a lot of related content or fandom blogging on this blog anymore, and given that I link to my blog in every chapter, I figure the people who want to look at my other writing and/or actually support me via ko-fi or patreon have ample chance to. I'm not really concerned about whether or not I'll lose audience because the tvtropes page linked to wayback machine instead of my actual blog if that's what you decide to go with.

#ifmlam

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avalancefantasyau · 5 years ago

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Hello everyone! @4alarmfirecracker here.

Have you ever dreamed of reading a story so much that you had to write it yourself? That's what happened with this one. I've always loved fantasy. I've always loved magic. I've always loved everything revolving around medieval settings. Sword fights? My jam. Therefore, I absolutely needed to get this story out of my head. And what a better pairing than those two lovely ladies to accompany me for this ... Avalance.

I wanted to be serious about planning and writing this story. This is why it has already taken me at least a year and a half (starting July 2019) to plan it and start writing it (I do agree that during this pandemic my head wasn't into it but I'm starting again). Indeed I always wanted to write a book, so what a better way to learn than to actually researching actively on how to write and plan. I've always been a "pantser". Meaning writing by the seat of my pants. I had a scene, a moment, a vague idea of where my story would go but I started at the beginning without a real plan, letting the characters and story take me where they wanted to go. I was more of a traveler surfing the wave.

For my last few Avalance fanfics, I've been plotting the story more and more before actually writing it, sometimes sticking to the plan I had made, sometimes derivating from it.

For this fic, I wanted to do something different. Like I said, maybe I could someday publish a book out of it (with some differences of course since I cannot copy LoT and its characters and stories). So I researched how to plot. I learned what the 3 acts story structure was. I learned the character journey/arc, its beliefs, desires, fears, and how it shapes a character. I learned how to make a summary. Yes, I did A LOT of readings and watched videos explaining different processes.

In parallel, I created the entire backstory of the world and its characters in it and built a timeline in order to avoid as much as possible inconsistencies. I cannot tell you how fun it was, with the help of a few other people, to create this fantasy world, its calendar, money system, magic system, pantheon, and so on. I created plot twists, subplots, and analyzed Ava and Sara. It's been one hell of a ride and it's still not finished.

I also participated in Nanowrimo 2019 (didn't reach 50k but my personal goal was to write as much as possible). I'll participate this year too even if the goal, again, won't be 50k. I'm trying to write as much as possible before giving you guys the first chapter, so you'll have to wait less in between chapters. I'll do a few rounds of self-editing (I always edited as I wrote the chapters but here it will be more professional). I'm gonna try to give you a story that I hope will be amazing. I'll also ask, after my self-edit, if people could look at the story and its possible plotholes, inconsistencies, ... After that, will be another batch of beta-reading for grammar and so on. And finally, I'll post it on AO3. It's gonna be a long story guys but I hope you'll love it as much as I'm excited about it.

You’ll be able to have special info about the story on this blog, so be sure to follow me, my main blog (@4alarmfirecracker) , and my backup blog (@4alarmfirecracker2) (had copyright issues on my main so might lose it).

Summary

Fanart (yes I plan to draw and make a video trailer for this fic) - my Deviantart profile - my Youtube channel.

Juicy info about the characters/story/world

More information can be found on the Discord I created. You'll have everything before everyone else and you can also interact with me there ♥ (or via ask here).

If you want to help me by being a beta reader (line or story edit), go visit the apply page.

Meet the characters on the characters page.

And last but not least, don't forget to subscribe to my AO3.

Text for the summary below the cut.

Elderwyn

A dark past. A search for revenge. A looming threat. An unlikely team-up.

Sara Lance is a half-breed, an outcast in Elderwyn, hated by elves and feared by humans. 14 years of happiness, the next 16 spent surviving, alone, and training to avenge her family’s death. She is certain of it: elves are responsible. And she makes them pay by living from day to day on the money she steals from them. However, her world is turned upside down when she ambushes an elf who despises humans, but hates half-breeds even more. Ava Sharpe, she learns, knows more about her family’s death than she lets on, and Sara is presented with a new possibility. What if the emerging enemy threatening the realm with their dark magic, and the killer, are one and the same? Sara will have to struggle with her conflicting feelings for Ava as she teams up with her in her quest to find the weapon that could end the evil of this land once and for all, and stop it from destroying everything that she holds dear. Vengeance or love … Which one will Sara choose? And how will it affect the battle to come?

#Avalance #Avalance Fantasy AU #Introduction

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chemicalmagecraft · 4 years ago

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Taiyuu OCT Bonus Round 2

@taiyuu-oct

Yukino didn't know much about Zuruko, other than the fact that she hated that girl. How could she, when she couldn't even remember talking to her? All she had was one memory of her, the pink-haired sheep girl telling her to go away. The rest of the information she had on her was from reminders made from cold letters appearing on her clothes seemingly at random. Yukino didn't know exactly how the girl's Quirk worked, aside from the fact that it erased memories and she apparently made no effort to control it or even turn it off, but to be honest that was all Yukino really needed to know.

Zuruko was dangerous, in Yukino's opinion. Her Quirk wasn't the most obviously dangerous, not next to things like 'generating vast amounts of fire,' 'creating turpentine,' or 'the ability to freeze anything, including the human body, in a matter of seconds,' but her attitude? From what Yukino could gather, Zuruko just didn't care at all what happened to other people from her not controlling her Quirk. Which, when that's something like memory erasure? Even if people haven't been hurt from it (that Yukino knew of; she highly doubted Zuruko had no blood on her hands at all keeping her Quirk on all the time like that), it still made Yukino's blood boil that she just didn't seem to care how potentially disturbing having large chunks of your memory just not present could be. As a fellow Emitter? Zuruko disgusted Yukino.

The last straw was when Yukino found herself roaring, covered in frost, in the middle of the dorm common rooms with no memory of how she got in that state. She could guess, of course, but having to make an educated guess about something like her own Dragon Rage made Yukino feel... sick. Violated, honestly. So she was a little relieved when, a few days later, Buck-sensei announced mandatory student-teacher conferences. She was already thinking about talking to Wolfie-sensei about Zuruko, of course, but that was the push she needed. As soon as Buck-sensei was done with his announcement, she hurried back to her room and picked up the notebook she'd prepared with all her complaints (and maybe some dirt) on Zuruko. She also picked up her scratching block while she was at it. She sighed at how worn it was. She'd need to get a new one soon, she really did a number on it. Especially over the past few days...

x x x

Yukino leaned back casually in her chair, scratching at her scratching block a little. "So, did you wanna talk about anything in particular or do I start?"

Wolfie-sensei stared at her scratching block. "What's with the block?"

Yukino shrugged. "Scratching block. Made for people with claw mutations and stuff like that. It's kinda like a scratching post, except portable and a little more dignified. It keeps claws healthy, too. It cool if I keep it out?"

He nodded, writing something down on a notepad. "Looks a little worn, though."

She sighed. "Yeah, I'm gonna have to get a new one soon. It's also a little... cathartic, I guess, when I'm stressed. Probably some dragon instinct or something. Ssso I kinda tend to scratch at it a lot when something bad is going on. Still, better a block that's made to be scratched up than someone's face or a couch, right?"

"That makes sense. Please talk to me or another teacher about getting a new one later." He wrote on his notepad again.

Yukino nodded. "'Course." She held up the block, studying its surface. "And as for why it looks so scratched up, I've been kinda upset the past few days. Been wanting to bring it up with you, actually, so this was pretty convenient. Did you know that sometimes residual mutations from a parent or grandparent's Quirk can include some form of their Quirk's drawback? Usually it's weakened, but it can still cause some annoyance..."

"What are you getting at?" her teacher asked.

Yukino remembered the first time it happened. It was so long ago, only a year after she got her Quirk. One moment one of her classmates was telling her how weird her mom looked despite her protests, the next she was being restrained by her teacher, her throat hoarse from screaming and her hands cold and sore from the frost-covered claw marks on the ground. Her mother explained to her later, how her emotions could rage out of control if she was scared, angry, or hurt enough. And unfortunately Yukino ended up having to change schools after that, even though she hadn't hurt anyone...

"We call it Dragon Rage," Yukino said. "Think of it like... whenever my flight or fight response hits, it tends to hit hard. Typically 'fight,' too."

He wrote that down, brow furrowed. "Should I be concerned?"

Yukino shook her head. "I've been dealing with it almost as long as my actual Quirk, and believe it or not I'm normally pretty responsible with stuff like that. As far as I know I've only had a Dragon Rage attack twice in the past year, and only one of those was really bad. I'm kinda proud of how well I'm doing with it." Yukino smiled at Wolfie-sensei, but then put her block on the table and steepled her fingers together, letting a colder expression take over her face. "So you can imagine how uncomfortable I might have felt suddenly waking up from a particularly bad Dragon Rage with no memory of how I even got to that point, right?"

Wolfie-sensei raised an eyebrow. "Is that normal?"

She shrugged. "If it's bad enough it's possible that I could have a few holes in my memory, but I will always remember what got me riled up in the first place. Sometimes even more vividly than normal, if it's particularly bad. So how, then, do you think that I lost those memories?"

"That's rhetorical, isn't it?"

"Zuruko Kayaki." Yukino pulled out her notebook, throwing it on the table. "Supposedly she has zero control over her Quirk, which in my opinion is a really bad thing even if it's not some form of memory erasure. I've managed to document a few bits of evidence that make me... doubtful of that fact, though. Or at least, doubtful that her Quirk can't be controlled, even if she really can't control it. She could just not be putting the right effort in or has some sort of mental block she has to work through, which is still on her by the way. Probably part of why I got so angry in the first place. To be honest it's starting to get really disturbing having my memories just have random holes like that, so even if I'm wrong I'd like you to do something about her."

Wolfie-sensei picked up the notebook, flipping through a few pages. His brow furrowed. "We've been dealing with Zuruko-chan already, but this is a serious accusation. Do you mind if I take this?"

She gave him a thumbs-up. "Go ahead, I figured you might."

"If you don't mind me asking, though, why are you so annoyed at Zuruko-chan?" he asked.

Yukino rested her head on her hands. "I mean, probably the most obvious bit? I reserve the right to be very annoyed with anyone who does anything to my mind without my explicit, informed consent. Don't get me wrong, I don't categorically hate people with mind-affecting Quirks or anything, but you can get why I wouldn't be too appreciative of stuff like that happening to me without my permission, right?"

Wolfie-sensei sighed and nodded. "That's fair."

"Good, good," Yukino smiled at him. Or perhaps it might have been a little more accurate to say she bared her teeth at him. "Now I get that she says she can't control it or anything, but that doesn't mean she can't take responsibility for it either, which from what I've been able to see she hasn't done either. And that one's totally on her by this point, in my opinion."

"What's the difference?"

"They make three-fingered gloves for people whose Quirks activate automatically when they put all five fingers on an object. People whose Quirks activate automatically through any skin contact usually wear gloves and long sleeves. Neki-chan has that one Quirk-nullifying thing. Worst comes to worst, I've heard of support companies who make what are basically inverted hazmat suits for people with severely biohazardous, radioactive, or whatever Quirks," Yukino listed.

She picked up her block and started fidgeting with it. "Not that Zuruko would need something as heavy-duty as that, probably. There's gotta be a way easier way to stop her Quirk's effects. I know, for one, that my grandfather's mind control can be stopped by something as simple as a thin sheet of tin foil on his horns. No Quirk is invincible, after all. Mine has limitations, yours does, and there is no way in hell Zuruko's Quirk or its effects can't be stopped in any way. Even still, the only gaps in my memory are in common areas." Yukino scratched at her block a little too forcefully, then shook out her hand because the motion hurt her fingertips a little. Her claws weren't Quirk-reinforced, so scratching something too hard really hurt. "If it was only if I tried to go in Zuruko's room that my memories were erased I maybe wouldn't have quite as much of a leg to stand on, but why should I have to avoid common areas if I don't want to randomly be affected by someone else's Quirk?"

"I'll look into that, but for now let's move on."

Yukino nodded, her posture relaxing again. "Long as you understand where I'm coming from. What next?"

"Why are you here at Taiyuu?" he asked.

Yukino chuckled. "If that isn't a question I've been asking myself for the past few days... Do you want Taiyuu specifically or why I wanna be a hero in general? Because the answer's different depending on which one you want."

"Let's hear both, if you don't mind."

"First, hero in general. It was... a combination of factors. For one, I have two heroes in my family already. I mean, Ryuji only recently graduated from UA, but Gong'gong-my grandfather-has been one for over half a century. But that was just some of the inspiration. I think... a couple weeks after I got my Quirk, I happened to see a pro with an ice Quirk fighting a villain, which I thought was super cool." Yukino raised a hand, cutting Wolfie-sensei off as he opened his mouth to say something. "Buuut those are just petty reasons that I'll admit probably shouldn't be my entire reason. To be honest if those were my only reason, it's possible I could've ended up training to take over the family restaurant instead." Yukino took a deep breath. "I think... my reasons for being a hero shifted after my... g-grandmother died." Yukino bit her lip and rubbed her eyes. This wasn't going to be easy to talk about, but she probably should.

"You don't have to tell me what happened, if you don't want to," Wolfie-sensei assured her. "I think I can get the picture."

She took another deep breath, nodding. "Th-thanks. I think... if a little girl walked up to me and thanked me for saving her grandmother, that'd be just as much of a victory to me as getting in the top ten."

Wolfie-sensei nodded. "Thank you for telling me that."

Yukino nodded. "You're welcome, I guess. As for why I went to Taiyuu... To be honest I just didn't feel like going to UA. I mean, this did seem pretty nice... from the entrance exam, anyway... but..." Yukino sighed, scratching lightly at her block. "I probably could've gotten into UA if I applied myself, but I just didn't feel like going to my brother's school, even though it's supposed to be super good." She gave Wolfie-sensei a wry smile. "How dumb is that?"

"You should never regret going to a school."

Yukino snorted. "You're right, I shouldn't."

"But you are. Why is that?"

Yukino rolled her eyes. "I haven't learned a thing here that I couldn't have just asked my brother about, everything not made of dirt looks like a rush job, oh, and how could I forget how much you've done about the girl with the supposedly uncontrollable mind-erasing Quirk?" she listed.

"We are actually working on Zuruko-chan's issues. We haven't just ignored the problem and hoped it'd go away."

Yukino's expression turned cold, and even though she hadn't used her Quirk the temperature in the room seemed to drop by a degree or two. She crossed her arms. "Oh? So those holes in my memory that only pop up when I see Zuruko are not, in fact, caused by Zuruko's Quirk?" Yukino slammed a hand on the table, using it to push herself up. Her claws left small scratches in the cheap wood. "Thank you for your time, but I should probably go see a doctor about that, then."

Wolfsboon sighed. "Okay, I get it. We'll do something about her, just sit down so we can finish."

Yukino sat. She did her best to make it obvious, though, that she still wasn't happy with Wolfsboon. "Fine. But I'm holding you to that."

"Okay, next question." Wolfsboon looked at his notes, then sighed audibly. "Okay. How, aside from dealing with Zuruko-chan, can we make your experience here better?"

"Do something about the hot water. The heating isn't the best, but I brought a space heater for that just in case. The water, though... I have to wake up fully before leaving my room or I could end up falling back asleep with how the heating is at the moment, that's more or less a drawback of my Quirk, so by the time I get to take a shower there usually isn't much water left, if at all. Cold water is really bad for me, Quirk drawback again. I don't sweat, so I can go longer without taking a shower before I feel gross, but I'd still like to be able to go from bedroom to shower every morning without Quirk drawbacks popping up at some point, y'know? Morning routines are good to keep up."

"I'll see about it, but there's only so much we can do. Next, what plans do you have for the future? Not just hero work, but do you have any backup plans?"

"Ehh, let me think..." Yukino narrowed her eyes and stroked her chin, thinking. "Okay, I should probably put a little more thought into that, but my dad's restaurant isn't going anywhere, so that's something. As for hero work... I will be villain fighting, but I feel like I could probably do well with search and rescue, too. I mean, I'm pretty sure that I'd at least do pretty well with fires." She shrugged. "Still, probably should put a little more thought into it. Anything else?"

He shook his head. "Unless you have something else you want to bring up, you're done here. Thank you for your time."

Yukino got up. "Cool, I'm gonna go now. Bye." Yukino lazily waved at him as she walked out the door. "Thanks for taking my concerns seriously," she added half-heartedly.

x x x

Yukino sighed and sat down on her bed. She opened up the contact list on her phone, pressing the call button on one of the first names on the list. She put her phone up to her ear, hearing it ring. "C'mon, pick up you jerk," she muttered.

Click. "Yuki-chan? What's up?"

"Hey, Niichan." Yukino sighed and rubbed her face. "Do you know if it's possible to transfer into UA?"

"I'll... have to look into what you’d need to do for it, but I doubt you can’t." There was silence on the other end, then he spoke again. "Do... do you want to talk about it?"

Yukino bit her lip, trying not to cry. "I... don't know. Maybe later."

"Well, if you change your mind just give me a call. Love you." He ended the call.

Yukino curled up into a ball. "Love you, too..." she sighed.

#taiyuu oct #taiyuu ocs #takeda yukino #wolfsboon #zuruko kayaki

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sporadic-writer · 5 years ago

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Welcome to the Neighborhood pt. 2

Note: ok so I know that not all of the boys, meaning both twins, live with the others. And I know my update schedule sucks but I go in a block and funk. Sorry guys. I just want you to read something I would read and truly enjoy. Also, I think I may make this a Haz fic bc ones about hin deserves more love and notes.

No one really reads these but I also think I'll write this for Harrison bc when Tom posted the pic of Nadia, it shattered the illusion in my head lol and it feels weird to a certain extent to write when he is most likely dating her. Don't get me wrong, I'm so happy for him and he doesn't know I exist, but it feels odd idk. So im pausing on Tom stuff atm lol. Harrison is single as far as publicly that ik so thats that 😅

Pairing: Harrison x Reader (most likely)

Warnings: mentions of weed, alcohol, and swearing. I enjoy all these things responsibly and ik im not the only one. As always stop reading if you dont like something.

Part 1 here initial teaser here (got around 100 notes soo 😎 check that out)

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“Alrighty boys. That’s enough about me, tell me about yourselves. I only know this one from the big screen and that 2 of you are brothers.” You gestured to Tom as you spoke about him. “And from basic eavesdropping I gather you are all very close.”

Tom smiled, “Actually I’m a brother to the twins, older obviously.” It was fun having a celeb lounging in your hot tub, drinking a beer with you. “But yeah I am an actor, Spider-Man as you probably know. Harrison’s an actor too!”

“Oh my god you are! I watched Catch-22 on Hulu! Comedy my ass..! I balled my eyes out several times.” He had the nerve to laugh in response. “Don’t laugh! That shit got intense quick. Then the shot where you all are swimming? Killed me. I don't know how I didn't notice you. Sorry!”

“Did you at least like it?” He smiled and asked hopefully. When you nodded yes he beamed! “Well then that’s all that matters. I will say an American accent is hard.”

You brought your beer up to your lips. “Yeah because your guys’ accent is so easy. You make fun of how different areas in America have different accents but it’s the same here!” They nodded in agreement at your words. You leaned your head back a tad and enjoyed the warm water. “Southern accents have different twangs bepending on the area, I have family that lives closer to New England, that's something all in its own. Just like here. You got London, Wales, some place called Essex and other places more north of here. It's not just the US." You reached over for your joint to finish it amongst the bubbles. "Now for real. Tell me about yourselves. Harrison you start I guess."

"Why me?"

"Shorter wikipedia page." You smirk as you re-lit your herb. The guys laughed and made 'ooh' noises to tease. "I'm kidding! Relax a touch. I just picked your name because you are right in front of me."

"Well I've known this lot since we were all kids. Tom and I went to school together and we have been stuck with each other since. I was his personal assistant for a while too." You listened as he spoke. Sweat was building up on his face from the hot tub. It added a nice shine to his, and everyone's faces. In order to avoid makeup running everywhere you sat up as you listened to him. You watched his eyes watch your movements as you took a hit and slowly exhaled. Almost like he was relaxing from watching someone relax from getting high without actually doing so. He kept going and you realized you zoned out a tad. "And then I wanted to do more than just model so I did more auditions and Catch-22 became my biggest so far."

You nodded, noting you heard and were listening. "That's cool and all but tell me like favorite song, movie, animal! Hahaha it isn't everyday famous people are in my hot tub. I'm going to savor this first encounter!" He smiled and answered your sort of questions. You offered the joint around before it finished. Tom passed, Tuwaine and Harrison took quick hits though. "But yeah that is me. Now someone else go so I don't have the spot light on me anymore." He looked at you as he said that and handed you the last bit. You winked in thanks, and to flirt lightly. (Shoot your shot right?) "Same questions to you love."

You responded your favorite song, movie, and color to him. "Yeah I like a bit of everything. But funny movies are my favorite. Obviously I like Marvel too Tom don't worry. Same goes for music but my preference ranges from new pop to older rock. I grew up on 80s alternative pop stuff." You smiled at him and he beamed in pride at the brand he represented. "Ok Sam you now."

Sam starts talking about his life and Harrison goes to grab more drinks. At this point the sun as almost finished setting and you tell the blonde how to turn the deck lights on. Soon the rows of edison bulbs flick on and a lovely mood is set. The glow isn't too bright and adds a nice light to your summer tanned skin. What you don't know is that the gentlemen appreciated the glow as well. However, they are too polite to say anything too bold after just meeting you.

If you could read minds or be sober enough to detect a certain lack of subtlety you would pick up on how the single men checked you out as you got out of the tub to get rid of the roach. Polite of course, 20 something men are going to appreciate a beautiful American girl right in front of them.

And if they could read your mind they would hear how you were taking in Tom and Harrison's jaw lines and toned muscles. How you appreciated Tuwaine's smile and height. Then add the twin's curls and freckles to the list and they'd think you were picking them like boys from a catalogue. Despite the slight oggling on your part, your eyes always wandered back to the blonde hair blue eyed boy the most. He seemed a little more laid back then Tom. Probably just because one was working more than the other, but that was just initial vibes you got. Regardless of vain appearance choices and vibe preference, all these boys were wonderful and you were just lucky enough your uncle's hot tub fit them all nicely.

Tuwaine smiled cheekily and spoke up. "Alright, we all have fresh drinks and proper buzzes. Let's make it fun and play a game. So Y/N, you went to college in the states, give us a classic drinking game and show us what you got."

"Ha! I don't know what you're looking for but I assume never have I ever is universal? You can't play kings or flip cup in a hit tub. Hold up 5 fingers, put them down if you've done said thing, drink as well."

"No fingers, just play till we are right pissed." Harry grinned and everyone else went along with it. "I will start. Never have I ever- wait this a normal game or sexy version?"

You said you didn't care and Tom said what the hell, so he continued. "Never have I ever gotten walked in on during a scandelous activity." Tom and Harrison both drank and groaned saying they have both walked in on each other at some point in life. Tuwaine continued.

"Never have I ever fooled around while someone else is in the room." There was a pause and no one drank. But then you rose your beer to your lips and they all looked at you in a manner of surprise and demand for explination.

Shrugging you said, "Old drunken hookup in school. We didn't know his roommate was in his top bunk asleep until it was too late. The mistake we made was keeping on going when we thought we heard him, because we did..."

"Wow Y/N. Learning a lot about the neighbor girl right away!"

"Shut up this game was your idea!" You laughed as you spoke in response to his teasing. "But whatever it's my turn now anyway. Never have I ever sent a dirty text to the wrong person." That got all but Harrison and you felt proud for getting them. "Alright so you are either morons or were in a rush to send that sext."

Tom defended himself saying her name was Sam and it was instant regret the second he realized.

Sam glared at him and said, "Yeah no one enjoyed that bro. I'm still shaken up about it."

"Get over yourself it was like 5 years ago! And you accidentally sent your friend Jake one, so pot, kettle, hi both black."

"It was detailed!"

You just sat there amused taking this all in. "I am so glad this happened tonight." You said more to yourself than them.

"Darling if this ends up in the tabloids we will never speak again." They were teasing with the threat. "But come on this is good let's keep going. Never have I ever done it in a car." You, Sam, and Tuwaine all drank and giggled.

The game continued on and another round of drinks were had. You learned Tuwaine had said the wrong name in bed. Also, that both Harry and Harrison have fooled around during family functions. In return they learned that you've hooked up in a college classroom and in a restaurant bathroom. That ended up getting you and your former boyfriend kicked out of the establishment. Towards the final round all were getting sleepier but still in a good mood.

"Never have I ever had sex high." Harrison challenged the group. No one drank. "Wait really? Thought I'd get you with that. Finish your beer and all." He looked at you as he spoke.

"Nope. Just never happened now that I've thought about it. Huh. You'd think right? But nope. Not that I'm opposed." You ended your statement by glancing his way while finishing your beer anyway. Harrison just watched the way your neck moved as you tilted your head back. "Ok boys this was fun but I am gettin tired."

Tom nodded. "Same here. Thank you for having us darling, it was fun!" The others spoke in agreement and you smiled at them saying they were welcomed back anytime. They offered to help clean but you grabbed the remaining bottles and told them you were good. After final goodbyes, you told them to not he strangers, you were all in your respective homes.

You went to bed pretty quick. Next door, at their place Tom, Harrison, and Sam lingered to get some water before bed. "She was really cool." Sam said while sipping water.

Harrison hummed in agreement. "Yeah I think so too. Very chill and all that."

Sam smirked and playfully said, "You just think she's fit mate." There was a pause.

"Well she is." It was Tom who said that and the others looked at him in playful shock. "What I'm not blind! She is! She's isn't some shy girl freaking out over us. She's cheeky and just seems normal about us living next to her. More Harrison's type though I'd say."

Sam laughed. "Yeah he always liked the classic American 'girl next door' type. Just a bonus she is actually American this time." They paused for Harrison to negate their statements but he just sipped his water and looked at them with a glint in his eyes. "Told you." Sam said as he took a sip. "She is better than half the models either of you bring back. Nuerons fire and she can keep a conversation. Not that all models are like that! But come on you went out with some stereotypes." Neither could disagree. Sometimes you just want to have a date with the beautiful face. Long term needs substance though, and both Tom and Harrison thought you had it all.

"We need to invite her over tomorrow, and any time she's free." Groundwork was to be established and Harrison was determined to get to know you more.

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As always, like and reblog! I hope you like it! Also if i forget to tag someone lmk, same if you wanna be tagged or not tagged. Feedback and notes are appreciated but be nice haha I edit as best I can. Thanks for reading and enjoying.

Tags: @jillanaholland @averyfosterthoughts @sarah-m-limelight-2007 @astridcommings

#fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #harrison osterfield fanfiction #harrison osterfield x reader #tom holland #fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #harrison osterfield fluff #harrison osterfield

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sa-nemis · 5 years ago

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a good person ⇨ sanemi/reader

Summary: Sanemi learns what makes a good person isn’t being good after all.

Warnings: none

Note: hi!! welcome to my writing dump ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ ..,, i don’t usually write a lot, so i wouldnt expect much activity on this page, but once in a while i get a burst of inspiration and for the first time in my life i thought i’d try publishing them somewhere. so thank you for stopping by, i hope this isn’t a waste of your time!!

(–☀–)

The first time you meet Sanemi is during his initial meeting of the pillars. He’s a whole lot of larger-than-life suffering wrapped up in an angry glare and jagged scars, you think. Somehow he seems awfully sadder than what his spiky exterior would let up. The other pillars tiptoe their way around him like he’s a time bomb chasing an end.

Still it comes as a shock not just to you, but to everyone, when the impetuous sounding boy asserts himself in front of Oyakata-sama.

Kanae immediately recoils in dismay, her face harrowed and her lips spilling words of soft admonishment. She’s trying to perform damage control, but the damage that flows from Sanemi is almost irredeemable.

Even post-meeting, a couple of the more experienced pillars surround Sanemi and reprimand him once more for offending Oyakata-sama. He looks entirely different then compared to before, his shoulders wilting into himself and his head drooping. He looks a little like a kicked puppy, and that’s reason enough to explain why you'd like to edge yourself into the anti-Sanemi circle and take him by the hand, out and away from there.

But it's not like none of you know the feeling of losing someone you love. As a pillar, you know it more than anyone. And as much as Oyakata-sama hangs the moon in your eyes, you think that Sanemi doesn't deserve to be driven to the ground as a result of his grieving. Which is also to say, different people grieve in different ways.

His is just. Outrageously abrasive.

It takes a while for the circle to disperse. All the while Sanemi doesn't grumble a word, face flushed with regret. When it finally does disperse, Sanemi remains unmoving in the centre of it all, feeling like a kid anticipating another round of punishment that never arrives.

The view of his back seems awfully lonely. Broken, almost, with how the wisteria trees in the estate cast their mottled shadows upon him. He's just lost his best friend after all, so maybe that's exactly what he needs— a friend. You don't spare a second in taking quick strides toward him.

"Uhm. Shinazu-"

"What, are you here to laugh at me too? Tell me I’m acting like an asshole?" He barks and you fall back a fraction.

As he sizes you up, attitude still brash, you fidget with your sleeves. You have no idea what you should be saying, or if you should be saying anything at all— but the words spill out on their own.

"No! I... I just wanted to ask if you're okay."

Sanemi starts to cloud with anger but visibly balks as soon as he senses the worry and gentleness rolling off of you. Between that and your anxious eyes blinking up at him, there's not a lot he can justifiably get mad about. There’s a familiarity that washes over him; distant rumbles of laughter and intimacy. No, he could never get mad at you.

(–☀–)

There is a sweet memory attached to a certain summer. One of caustic burns and gentle touches, and all of the things that fall between the blurred lines.

Or maybe that’s just telling things too nicely. It goes a little more like this: Sanemi and you are both bloody and bruised to the touch, and when you finally make it to the Wisteria House, you fall onto the tatami and out of consciousness.

When you finally come to, it takes a second before everything seems to settle in place. There’s a splinter in your side, but you find that there are hot towels and medicated washes beside you, along with a note that informs you your wounds have been patched up. The family of this house are known to be efficient like that.

You turn and see that Sanemi hasn’t moved an inch from where he passed out. You contemplate his unusually peaceful features. Because no one else is watching and your patience is wearing thin you lean over and press your forehead against his. Warm.

Immediately his eyes burst open. You bolt up and almost scream. Only then do you realize that he’s exceptionally good at pretending to be asleep.

“What are you doing?” He sort of snarls.

You hesitate about telling him the truth. “...Making sure you’re alive.”

A blink, followed by a punch of laughter, “Pretty fucking weird, even for you.”

He looks up, gaze flickering absently over your features, your jaw, down to your collarbones, then up again. And then he goes to hold your wrists— tenderly, making you press your palm against his scarred chest where his pulse beckons too heavily to ignore. It’s equally hard to ignore the thrumming in your own chest and the surge in your brain that’s telling you to slow down before you implode.

“I’ve lost so many people,” he starts, watching you with melancholic eyes and the fragility of breaking apart. “I was so afraid of losing you too, back there.”

You frown, “Sanemi. Listen. Nothing’s more important than you, okay?” You’re not going to let him put you above himself. That’s not the way you are, so you’ll say it as many times as you need to until he understands.

The next thing you know you are holding his face between your palms and pressing your lips to his as if to prove something to him. Your answer is him holding the back of your neck, leaning up into your face with a smile that makes you so giddy you think you’re either sick with the summer heat or terribly stupid in love.

(–☀–)

The Ubuyashiki Estate is beautiful at this time of year, wisteria blossoms in their final spurts of bloom. They sit on the engawa in view of the garden, four platefuls of watermelon between them; a summer offering from Himejima to celebrate Sanemi's first year of being inducted as a Pillar. It’s been a while since you’ve seen all of them together, hasn’t it?

Sanemi looks brighter than he's ever had since he joined the slayer corps. That's what everyone says when the plates have been cleared and the teapots emptied. He snorts, a dismissive and mocking one, because how can he look brighter while hunting demons in the dead of night.

While the world diminishes around him and he's still stuck, unable to move in its center.

(–☀–)

It takes some convincing on your part before Sanemi agrees to go to the summer festival with you.

Actually, it takes a lot.

But here you are, yukata-clad, talking about all the ways in which you both can enjoy your time here. A gust of wind blows away the last dregs of summer, and your shoulders are bumping, just barely. But enough to entail two reticent souls that smell of street-side snacks and wisteria blossoms and sweltering heat, and each other.

As you follow the crowd down the maze of streets, Sanemi's hand steals into yours. Surprised by the sudden display of affection, you observe him, only to find that he has his gaze dead set ahead. He doesn't even spare a glance at you. His anxiety is palpable through his seams; but so is your elation. It ebbs and flows in threads that coil around your intertwined hands, locking them in a forever embrace.

You squeeze his hand back tightly, glad that it is yours to hold.

Ten minutes and lots of grumbling from Sanemi later, you’re both collapsed on the engawa of your estate, slippers thrown onto the garden haphazardly and wrists and limbs tangled into one another as you wait in quiescence for the fireworks to start. You’re counting the ridges on the scars of Sanemi’s arm while he watches the steady rise and fall of your chest.

When he finally speaks, his voice seems to disperse in the breeze.

“I'm not a good person. I don’t think I have it in me to be one."

You tuck his hand under yours and gaze up at him softly. There are words that touch the tip of his tongue and then disappear, and it’s a few seconds before he builds them up again. "But I think... Knowing that- that there's someone there to shove together all the pieces I've broken off of myself, even if I'm not worth piecing back together, is a good feeling," Sanemi rubs at the nape of his neck and looks into your eyes for what feels like the first time, really. And in them, reflects all the lights that shine in the sky.

The noise of street traffic and children playing suddenly die down. You wonder how hard it was for him to speak those words. And despite the blood rushing to your face, you reply with a gentle conviction, "I think you're trying your best, and that's every bit worth saving, Nemi."

He eats up your knowing smile and returns with one of his own. It's a depiction of unabashed boldness and heated cheeks and fumbling hands, rough lips and noses bumping into each other. "I want you. I want you forever, if you’ll have me.”

Of course you will. Always.

#sanemi shinazugawa #kimetsu no yaiba #shinazugawa sanemi x reader #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi x reader #shinazugawa sanemi imagine #kimetsu no yaiba imagine #demon slayer imagine #sanemi shinazugawa imagine

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miss-sleepdeprived · 4 years ago

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Im gonna level with you the vast majority of this was written at 3 in the morning and I’m too tired to deal with it any more so let’s hope for the best

Also this is the first part of the prologue \/

“Ah Welcome! How can I help you little lady?”

Alana just about jumped out of her skin, the people here were so friendlier than the ones at her kingdom despite the cold. It was odd.

The smith was an older man with a round face and body, he appeared a jolly fellow who she imagined wouldn't question her specifics.

“I need a sword, something that can cut through bone.” she said pulling her cloak tight around her shoulders.

“ Well alright I have something or did you have plans for it?”

“ I had plans but if it's not possible I understand.”

“ Well let me see ‘em before we say that.”

Alana smiled before pulling out her book, it was dark brown leather bound with a scarlet A on the front as her initials. Flipping to the correct page she handed the book to the smith who took it with surprising gentleness handling it with care looking over the plans before handing it back.

“Well I can do it for sure but its gonna be a hefty price little lady.”

She jumped “Right.” pulling the bad of gems and gold from her belt. “Would this be enough? I can get more if it’s not this is just what I brought with me.”

Handing it to the man he took it with the same gentleness he took her note book, opening it carefully to examine it’s contents.

“Hunny this is perfect, I imagine I can have it done sometime next month butif that works for you, just drop by anytime and have a chat if you want as well, I love the company.”

Alana smiled nodding her head before replying. “Next month is perfect, and if I have the time I may come for a visit thank you.”

“Any time little lady, now you be careful out there I think a storm is a brewin.”

The weeks passed and when she had the time Alana did come to the smithery and visit even well after her sword was made. While there she learned the name of the smith Arther and that Arther had a daughter by the name of Layla whom she met about her 3rd visit to the smithery and was now well acquainted with and could reliably consider her a friend.

Putting her trust in this new friend she told Layla of her plan and who exactly she was, Layla had been less then surprised as she had heard the horror that was king Reed understanding Alana's wish to rid the country of the tirant.

“Hey Lana?” Layla asked, grabbing the blonds attention.

Alana made a noise of acknowledgement moving her head towards her friend. “What is the hierarchy like in Iceland? Cuz here the oldest and second had to fight it out to figure out who’s the heir but I imagine it’s different where your from,”

Alana thought on the topic before giving her decision as it had never crossed her mind. “Well it’s mostly circumstantial, so let’s say that the current ruler died of natural causes then in their will whoever was stated would become ruler in my case my sister despite me being older. However let’s say that he were to get killed via assation then whoever killed him would be dubbed the new ruler despite the people's opinion.”

“Why is that?”

“Because of the crown.” Alana started. “I’ve spent my entire life learning about my country and by far the most interesting thing is the crown of the royals, it is made with a frame of black stone with three pillars in the front, the two on the sides used to have glow stone imbedded in them however the current king had them removed and replaced with coal. And the one in the middle has a good sized netheright that is enchanted to stay on the head of the royal regardless of force if the royal doesn’t want it off it won’t be coming off. The only exception being if they died.”

“Okay so let’s say that someone that wasn’t in the bloodline killed them, what would the crown do?”

“It would attach to the person who killed them although it isn’t normal for that to happen because of security precautions, we are called the most war efficient country for a reason. The people there are rough, ready to fight at any moment. It’s kind of sad if I’m honest.”

“Really?”

“Yes, think about it, wouldn't you be sad if all the time you had to keep a solid face always preparing for the worst because who knows when your king is going to declare war on a country and you're going to have to leave everything to help. I’m sorry I fell down quite the rabbit hole didn’t I?” Alana said with a shy smile

Layla put her hand on Alanas arm.” No no it’s okay that’s how you feel things are you see things from the villagers perspective it’s a sign of a great ruler! And why I thought Willbur would have been a better one.”

Layla mumbled the last but tho it was clear Aruther heard her as he was quick to scold her.

“Layla, you know it’s none of our business what goes on at the capital. And besides, Technoblade still has a time to mature all those boys do and will with time just like you, I remember you once tried to “storm the capital” because you didn’t like the color of banners they put up.”

“GREEN IS THE WORST COLOR TO PUT IN AN ENTIRELY WHITE AND BLUE AREA!”

Arther simply laughed at his daughter's childishness shaking his head as he went back to cleaning and sharpening tools.

Huffing and falling back into her chair Layla noticed something under Alana's cloak.

“Hey Lana?”

“Humm?”

“Come out back with me for a sec?”

“Sure.”

The two girls walked around to the back of the store where it was much warmer then the rest of the outside considering the walls meant to keep the wind out and the active fire that Arther used to reform tools.

“Okay cutting right to the chase do you have wings?”

“Uh..”

“YOU DO!? CAN YOU FLY!? CAN YOU TAKE ME FLYING!?”

“That’s what your wondering?”

“Uh duh, I mean come on I find out my best friend has wings and you think I’m not gonna want a ride?” she gasped before continuing. “ CAN I SEE THEM!!!??”

Alana jumped before putting her hands on Layla’s shoulders and covering her mouth to keep her quiet.

“Okay okay you can see them if you promise to be quiet.”

The brunette nodded frantically before watching Alana move her cloak allowing the massive white wings to stretch and the bones to pop from being stuck under the cloak for so long, ruffling the feathers to put them back the their place before turning back to Layla rolling her eyes slightly to see her practically jumping in her spot before nodding and allowing her friend to run her hands threw the small feathers along her back all the way down to the big ones that allow her to fly all the while checking with Alana to make sure it was okay.

“Why do you keep them under your cloak?” Layla asked with a quizzing look in her face.

“Well my parents don’t like them too much I’m not sure why but they truly just don’t want to look at them if they can help it. I think mother would cut them off if she could if I’m being honest.”

Layla stood still before opening her mouth again.

“That’s bullshit! Your wings are beautiful if I’m being honest it’s hard to see you without them now they are just so you anyone that says any different need to pull their head out of their own ass and I have half a mind to give that king of yours a piece of my mind from that!”

Layla had now moved to Alana's front. Alana simply looked at her stunned before pulling her into a hug burying her face in her shoulder.

Layla hesitated for no more than a fraction of a second before returning the hug to a bone crushing degree as if trying to desperately reassure Alana that she wasn’t going anywhere.

A moment later Alana pulled away covering her wings once again and smiled at Layla.

“If I accomplish this, would you be willing to be my advisor? Because I’ll be damned if Regionald is going to tell me what to do.”

“Always just let me know what to do.”

The two had another hug before parting once more.

“I need to head home, come on.”

Alana said pulling her friend back inside, saying goodbye to Arther, and walking out with wishes of good travel.

Getting to the edge of the dock where none ever sailed she spread her large wings allowing the large mussels to pull her into the air and lead her back to her home.

Have a nice night folks get some sleep

#mcyt imagine #dsmp oc #sbi au #sbi family dynamic #my ocs #plssss #im so tiiiiired #tommy mcyt #technoblade #phillza #willbur soot

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ohmightydevviepuu · 5 years ago

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our little life (rounded with a sleep) / chapter 5

our little life (rounded with a sleep) chapter five

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful detective. She had blonde hair, green eyes, no family, and she was good at finding people; in fact, she proclaimed this on her office door. “Swan and Humbert,” it said. “Private investigations, missing persons, and bail bonds.”

Only lately, she’s been thinking that maybe it should say “Emma Swan: Loner, Loser, Complicated wreck.”

Her partner’s been killed on a case after she made a deal with her landlord to find what had been taken from him. But when she tracks a possible perp to a bar on the outskirts of town, Emma will find out exactly how deep the rabbit hole goes.

thank you as ever to my support team of mythical beauties, without whom this fic would not exist in its present form: @thisonesatellite for her many, many rereads; @profdanglaisstuff for swooping in to save the day (no cape necessary); @katie-dub just for being there, and being awesome.

SPEAKING OF AWESOME there are not enough good things to be said about the team @captainswanbigbang, and the amazing crew in the CSRT discord for cheers and comeraderie and so many late nights of sprinting and bad decisions.

cw: canonical character death rating: T/M (implied violence, language) word count: ~4.5k AO3 chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four

chapter summary: Hook spends the night in jail, and Emma spends the night dealing with her shit. (It’s not a particularly pleasant way to spend the time, but what the hell--Emma Swan is not a believer. She is, however, a thief.)

Emma had a parking space that was legal, had sightlines into the Mills Organization building, and was far enough back from the entrance that the bright yellow car would not be too memorable. There was even a nearby streetlight that gave enough light to see without destroying her night vision.

It was almost enough to make a person believe in magic.

No cars went by as she sat and waited; no late-night pedestrians passing by in activities either savory or unsavory.

But she sat, and waited, because Hook was right and this was her best chance of making progress. Because she believed him when he said he hadn’t stolen Gold’s “valuable object”, no matter how much it went against her better judgement.

She believed him, about that and--

Her fingers traced over the soft, pebbled leather of Henry’s book as she waited, turning open to a page at random: a cartoonish drawing of a wedding, the bride in white and the groom in plate armor complete with sword belt. It was True Love and Happily Ever After, all of it Mary Margaret down to the core.

Once Upon a Time.

Only the longer Emma stared at the illustration, the more the image began to seem like a photograph, like she could almost see their faces and the stained glass and the way the princess’s skirt fluttered not from fabric but from feathers dancing in the air.

The lights in the window flickered, pulling Emma’s focus fully back toward the building and there was a tall woman--blonde--she was dressed out of time in a voluminous brown skirt embroidered all over in roses and it looked like the curtain-clothing from The Sound of Music. She walked through the front door and vanished in a single flash of hard white light; a scream carried through the air and Emma was out of her car before the echo had faded.

That was when she saw the man in the animal coat, the one with the skin that seemed to glitter. In his hand was something small and white and he carried it as though it were both delicate and valuable.

“Hey!” Emma called out.

His expression, was she could see of it, registered surprise. The object vanished as he held his hands at right angles to each other and he giggled.

“Who are you?” Emma called, trying to walk forward and finding herself unable to do so.

“Not yet, dearie,” he said. “Not yet.”

He vanished; Emma felt a hand brush against her shoulder and jumped.

It wasn’t a hand--it was a silver hook where the prosthetic left hand of James Hook’s had been.

“Tick-tock, Swan,” he said.

The fingers of his right hand rubbed against her wrist and when Emma woke it was with her own hand wrapped around her tattoo and her head leaning against the steering wheel.

The thing about stakeouts was that you needed actually to stay awake in order to execute one, so Emma gave up the game and turned the Bug back home when she saw the lights in Regina’s office were out. She parked the car in the first open spot within spitting distance of the of and found herself running inside, nearly banging the door into the wall when she came through. She called out an apology to Mary Margaret before remembering that it was well after midnight and only sort-of noticed that her roommate wasn’t even home as she started pulling drawers and cabinets open, looking for the one box that she never unpacked, never once in the seven different addresses. For most of her life, its contents had been in her backpack, squished up and neglected but never left behind, leaving just enough room for a toothbrush and a change of clothes and a few pairs of socks, maybe a hat if she was living someplace cold.

The blanket was soft, the knitted wool somehow still fluffy under her fingers in spite of its ignominious storage conditions. Emma pulled it out slowly, running her fingers across the smooth purple ribbon woven through, feeling the simple running stitch across the upper corner that spelled out her name. She sat cross-legged on the floor and draped the blanket over her legs and told herself it was just for a minute.

Emma’s life was full of nightmares. Sometimes, on her worst days, her entire existence actually felt like one; a waking hell from which there was no escape except for her own determination to keep going and to keep running.

But none of those nightmares had ever felt like this, like something true and just on the edge of her consciousness, like a memory.

Milah. The crocodile.

Emma could still see his face as he died in her dream, and she wasn’t sure if she meant Graham’s or Hook’s or both, so she sat on the floor with her blanket.

Enjoy the quiet moment.

The blanket didn’t offer much in terms of real warmth when she sat on the floor, but Emma didn’t notice. She rubbed her hand across her wrist as though she could feel the motif inked there--remembered a time and a girl and a friend, her only friend, scribbling on that wrist and saying now we can both be special. Neal and how he had made her feel special; prison and the tattoo to remind herself that she was special without anyone’s help; the buttercup because once upon a time there had been a girl in a storybook that no one thought was special and she became a princess, the True Love to end all True Loves.

Henry’s book had fallen open and Emma slammed it shut almost exactly at the moment when the door banged open again, a slightly disheveled and fully distracted Mary Margaret walking in and nearly tripping over her.

“Oh!” Mary Margaret futtered around her, reaching a hand down toward the floor, apparently changing her mind, and then covering her mouth with it. “Emma! I didn’t expect you.” She paused. “On the floor, I mean.” Her hands were rubbing against each other anxiously as she played with the peridot ring on her middle finger.

“Mary Margaret,” Emma said, rubbing unshed tears from her eyes before her friend had enough focus to notice them. She really did not want a post-coital Mary Margaret going all mother-hen after the night she’d had. “Sorry. Got caught up in...a case.”

“Hmmm?” Mary Margaret said, still distracted. “Oh, that’s good.”

Emma looked at her friend, really looked at her: the woman was a wreck. Tear streaks on her face, the kind that came from ugly crying--and Sheriff Nolan had been the one to pull Hook into custody. So--

“Where have you been?”

“Out,” Mary Margaret said, dully. “Walking. By the water?”

“Is that a question?” Emma said.

“What?” And there was that famous Mary Margaret focus, looking at her as if she had just noticed the two of them were standing in their dining area in the middle of the night. “Emma, what’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” Emma said.

“‘Nothing’ with you always means something,” Mary Margaret sighed, “because if it were nothing, you wouldn’t be sitting on our floor in the middle of the night.”

“We were talking about you,” Emma said, a little desperate.

“Yeah,” Mary Margaret said. “But talking about you is easier right now. Remember how you told me to stay away from David and I didn’t?”

“Yeah,” Emma said, pushing herself upright and going for the Scotch. Mary Margaret didn’t drink that often, but they kept a bottle of it in the same cupboard where Emma had hidden her blanket. Mary Margaret bent over and picked the book up off the floor.

“Where did you find this?” she asked. “Did Henry Mills give this to you?”

“What?” Emma said, startled. “Why?” She poured herself a shot and then another one for her friend, handing it over.

“I lent it to him,” Mary Margaret said wistfully. “It used to be my favorite book, you know.”

Emma took her drink and poured another. “Fairy tales?” Emma laughed, and it was harsh--slightly hysterical, even. “Seems about right for you.” She finished the second shot and put the glass down.

“No,” Mary Margaret said, running her fingers across the gilded lettering. “It was more than that. It was hope. Like--believing in even the possibility of a happy ending.”

“Hope,” Emma repeated dubiously.

“And belief,” Mary Margaret said. “It’s a very powerful thing, you know.”

“Whatever,” Emma said, summoning a smile for her friend. She walked toward the ladder to her loft before turning back in an attempt to offer Mary Margaret some kind of reassurance, but Mary Margaret was no longer there. Or maybe she was, only her hair--long now instead of the short pixie cut she typically favored--her hair piled on her head, her waist confined in a dress with a white silk corseted bodice.

The skirt had feathers.

“Mary Margaret?” Emma said.

“Yes?” The woman in white answered her.

“Good night,” Emma said.

Sleep was a challenge and beginning daylight was making the sky go grey; Emma was already dressed and out the door by the time five o’clock came and went. She had gone to bed full of whiskey and frustration and fear, chasing a vision of a woman in white through the pages of the storybook she’d gone downstairs for as soon as she’d heard her roommate’s sobbing go quiet and still.

She hadn’t slept.

The fairy tales were--unexpected. To begin with, they were not in any sort of chronological order, meandering through a series of origin stories and follow-ups seemingly based on whatever interested the author most at that particular moment; an increasingly hard-to-follow series of circumlocutions as if they had been paid by the plot twist to churn out the craziest content they could think of. Snow White was a bandit; Prince Charming a shepherd; Red Riding Hood was the Big Bad Wolf and True Love’s Kiss could conquer anything.

Including The Dark Curse, product of the darkest magic and the most malign intent, unleashed upon the world by an Evil Queen manipulated by a man known as the Dark One, and then Snow White and Prince Charming had wrapped their newborn daughter in a hand-knitted blanket trimmed with purple ribbon and hoped that someday, she would find them.

All of it, he’d said, is because of Regina Mills and Robert Gold.

That was when Emma left a note for her friend, promising breakfast, and went back to The Rabbit Hole.

The rear entrance was locked but the office wasn’t, and anyway Emma had come prepared for both, the tension wrench going straight in and exactly the right amount of pressure on the pins popping the back door open in a matter of seconds. The room was exactly as they had left it, even down to Emma’s unfinished tumbler of rum sitting on the far side of Hook’s desk. This time, though, Emma sat on his side, in his chair, bending to examine the drawers.

In the third drawer down she found the locked box. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the lock on this offered more of a challenge than the back door had done, but it was still open in less than a minute, its contents spread across the desk for Emma’s examination. Emma’s hands fidgeted with the smallest treasure pulled from the trove--a ring on a chain--as she contemplated the curved, silver metal that would not have looked out of place in the collection on the wall in the main bar. The hook was nestled in with a scrap of worn leather embossed with a sigil, a foreign crest stamped atop the name ‘JONES’; what stopped Emma in her tracks was the pen-and-ink drawing of a woman and another of a boy, both with creases so sharply worn from folding and unfolding that she was almost surprised the paper--the parchment--didn’t fall apart in her hands.

The boy could almost have been a twin for Henry Mills.

But Henry didn’t have a twin--that much, at least, Emma knew for sure. She’d only given birth the once.

The ring went around her neck before Emma could ask herself why.

The parchment went into her pocket.

Everything else went back into the lockbox and then back into the drawer.

Everything you think you believe is wrong, he’d said.

But Emma Swan was not a believer.

Granny’s at seven in the morning was another challenge. Not just because the neighborhood’s best coffee shop and diner would naturally be bustling during the morning rush but because Emma’s head was still pounding from the Scotch. Almost before she sat down, Granny had sent Ruby over with a cup of steaming hot chocolate, whipped cream on top and a cinnamon stick instead of a spoon to stir it. Ruby pulled a face at being dragged back into her old waitressing gig, then gave Emma a wink and sat down, brandishing a bear claw.

Emma closed her eyes and tried to remember why Ruby had quit working at her grandmother’s diner instead of imagining a werewolf serving a breakfast pastry. Something about a row between Granny and Ruby that ended up with Ruby at the bus stop, threatening to leave town, and Emma finding her and mentioning that she and Graham could use the extra help.

“You look like shit,” Ruby commented, taking a bite of an apple that matched her lipstick.

“Are you sure Granny didn’t just fire your ass?” Emma retorted. “Because that is now how you speak to paying customers.”

Ruby laughed. “I’m a people person,” she said. “One that you pay to speak to your customers.”

“Good point,” Emma said, offering a small smile. “How long did you work here, anyway?”

“As long as I can remember,” Ruby said, rolling her eyes. “Too long, that’s for sure.”

As long as I can remember.

“I’m sorry my heart attack interfered with your plans to sleep your way down the eastern seaboard,” Granny said, coming up behind them. “Eat your bear claw or I won’t save you one next time.” That last was directed at Emma, who hastened to comply.

Ruby laughed. “What’s up with you this morning, Em? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bear claw last long enough for you to put it on a plate before.”

Emma shrugged. “It was a long night,” she said, because that was easier than saying she’d stayed up too late reading fairy tales and drinking, or explaining that she’d already committed a felony and been to the office before seven. She’d sat at Graham’s desk, with his things--added another reminder to her collection when she’d pulled the laces from his work boots and tied them around her wrist to cover her tattoo. Hook’s ring bumped up against the swan pendant around her neck that might as well have been an albatross for how much it had weighed her down in the years since Neal had stolen it for her and then bequeathed it to her, a parting gift she’d received in prison as she served the sentence he’d set her up to take.

It came in the mail the same day she’d taken the pregnancy test.

Emma Swan did not get emotional about men and she carried the reasons--the reminders--why everywhere she went.

It’s always nice to leave an impression.

The ring was leaving an impression in her skin from where she’d wrapped her hand around it, Emma realized as she tried to focus on what Ruby was saying to her, and then the bell over the entrance rang and Mary Margaret came in, looking nervously around her before sliding into their booth. Emma ordered her a tea by gesturing for Ruby to go get it, which got her another fake snarl before Mary Margaret said, in a voice barely above a whisper: “I broke up with David.”

“Ah,” Emma said. She leaned in closer, wanting to offer comfort but not totally sure how to do it. She reached her hand out to her roommate’s in an unfamiliar gesture, then let it fall to the table when her eye caught the peridot ring Mary Margaret wore on her third finger.

"I’m not the jewelry type," said Snow White. "I can tell," said the prince."

“Kathryn,” Mary Margaret said, “his wife, I mean, she got into law school.” She paused. “In Boston.”

And it was then, when he saw his mother’s ring on her finger, that he knew in his heart there was no other woman he would ever love.

Emma pulled at the ring on the chain around her neck.

Consider it a reminder.

“So David is moving with her?”

Ruby laughed. “David, outside of Storybrooke? I’m not sure if he would survive.”

“No,” Mary Margaret said, on the verge of tears. “We talked about it--we agreed--to take the opportunity to start over from a real place. He was going to tell her the truth. We were going to be honest.”

Emma did not fail to notice the repeated use of the past tense.

“He didn’t tell her,” Emma said, not needing to ask. “But she found out, didn’t she?”

“While you were out last night on your case I was with David,” Mary Margaret said. “And then his wife called looking for him. She thought he was on duty at the station but he didn’t answer there so she--” Mary Margaret was wiping away tears. “He was supposed to tell her. He told me that he did.”

“That would have been the honorable thing to do,” Emma muttered.

“And I realized,” Mary Margaret said, “that what we have, it isn’t love. It’s something else, something destructive. We shouldn’t be together. It’s like we’re cursed.”

"Show me you feel the same, and we can be together forever." “They had their happy endings stolen from them,” Hook had said.

Ruby came back with the tea and sat down, looking between Emma and Mary Margaret before enveloping Mary Margaret in a hug.

“I always thought,” Mary Margaret said, “that if two people were meant to be together, they find a way. They--find each other, no matter what. I really believed that.”

“If you need anything--” “You’ll find me?” Snow said, looking at him thoughtfully. "Always,” Charming confirmed. “I almost believe that.”

Emma shook her head, trying to wake herself up, trying not to picture the story she’d read the night before, trying not to see the woman in white and a red-cloaked werewolf where her friends were sitting. She took a sip of her cocoa and looked at the clock: 7:15.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” Ruby was saying, an arm still wrapped around Mary Margaret’s shoulder as the bell over the door rang again and Sheriff David Nolan walked in.

“You made a mistake with David,” Emma said. “It happens. Hang in there. If there’s anything I can do to help, I will.”

“Thank you,” Mary Margaret said softly, wiping under her eyes, though her mascara was already a lost cause.

So much for True Love.

But Emma still had a job to do, even if she wasn’t completely sure what it was any more. She finished her cocoa and got up, a quick “see you at the office” to Ruby and a hand on the shoulder, which seemed like the right thing to do, for Mary Margaret. She walked toward David and resisted the urge to hit him when she got in front of him and asked, “What happened with Hook last night?”

David’s head moved but he wasn’t looking at her. He was almost looking through her as he said, “I’m looking,” which didn’t seem like an answer to her question.

“What the fuck, Nolan? You really want to dick around right now?” Emma gestured impatiently at the sobbing woman behind both of them.

“I’m looking,” he repeated, and it still wasn’t an answer.

“Whatever,” Emma muttered, moving toward the way out. David Nolan looked like a man possessed.

Or cursed.

Fuck literally all of that, Emma thought as the door closed behind her, nearly walking into someone on the sidewalk. She sidestepped him at the last minute, turning behind her just to double-check, and he was staring at her. The man was tall, with messy hair and wide eyes, something frantic in his gaze. He wore a cravat and a top coat as if that was a thing people did, and turned away when she met his eyes, walking quickly in the other direction.

Emma buried her hands in her pockets, twisting her fingers in the fabric of the pocket bags, and walked to the sheriff’s station.

She should have been expecting to find him already gone, if Nolan was out and about getting coffee, but finding the cell empty was still something of a shock. Judging by the charge sheet David had left on his desk--without locking the door, making it easy to snoop--Hook had been bailed out by a woman named Cora Hart. David had left no other notes or thoughts, at least none that Emma could see, so she walked back to the door and came face-to-face with Regina Mills, who was walking in and looking, as usual, angry.

“Seriously?”

“I should be the one asking you that,” Regina said, apparently exasperated in addition to angry. “What game are you playing at, Miss Swan?”

“I could say the same to you,” Emma retorted. “It was you, wasn’t it, who phoned the Sheriff last night?”

Regina did not condescend to answer. “The way the two of you were making eyes at each other,” Regina said with a sneer, “constituted a crime.”

“We do not,” Emma objected, “‘make eyes’.” Emma realized her mistake only when Regina snorted--it felt like an admission, of sorts, and definitely one that Regina could not be trusted with.

“I’ve come to see to him, at any rate,” Regina said expectantly. “What have you done with him?”

Emma gestured at the empty cell with a flourish, suppressing the urge to make a mocking little bow. “He’s gone,” she said. “Bailed out this morning by Cora Hart.”

There was a beat of silence and then Regina’s face went completely white, as if all of the blood had drained from her face at once--except for her lips, which remained so red they looked bloodstained.

“Who is she, Regina?”

“It’s not possible,” Regina whispered.

“You seem to be saying that a lot lately,” Emma said. “It never seems to be true.”

Regina’s perfectly painted lips formed a moue. “She’s my mother,” Regina admitted.

“I thought your mother was dead,” Emma said.

“So did I,” Regina said.

Watching Henry Mills on the playground was like staring into the past.

A group of kids crowded around the swingset; another took turns using a slide; and Henry sat, resplendent in his solitude, in the tower of a play structure.

“He calls it his castle,” Mary Margaret explained when Emma had shown up at the school looking for Henry. “That’s where he spends most of his time.”

Emma had always been, at best, at the fringes of childhood socializing. More often, she found herself alone and apart, considered temporary--too aloof, too prickly, too much effort to be worth it.

“You left this in my office,” Emma said, coming up behind him and settling herself next to him. The book she left on the ground in between them.

“Oh,” Henry says, looking sheepish. “Yeah, thanks...Emma.”

“You know who I am, don’t you?” Emma said.

His expression brightened. “You read it?” he asked, excited. “You know?”

“Did I read what?” she said. “Do I know what?”

“The story about you,” Henry tapped the book. “That you’re the Savior.”

“Oh, kid,” Emma said. “You’ve got problems.” Then: “What is it, anyway?”

Henry considered her. “I’m not sure you’re ready, Emma,” he said seriously.

“I’m not ready for fairy tales?”

“They’re not fairy tales,” he said with complete sincerity. “They’re true. Every story in this book actually happened.”

Every story you’ve read, Hook had said, some version of it has actually happened.

“I’ve kind of had enough of the book crap,” Emma said, then winced. “Sorry, I guess I should watch my language or something. But, yeah, I read some of the stories in your book.”

Henry was quiet for a minute, waiting.

“What I meant,” Emma said, “was that I’m your--your birth mother.”

That was the first time she said it out loud.

“I know,” Henry said.

She had never even let herself hold him.

“It’s okay, Emma,” Henry said, his eyes as wide as saucers and his voice gentle and older than his years. “I know why you gave me away. You wanted to give me my best chance.”

“How do you know that?” Emma asked.

“Because,” he said, “it’s the same reason Snow White gave you away.”

Your parents’ entire kingdom was cursed. They sent you here to break it.

“What matters is that you’re here now,” Henry said happily. “You’re going to bring back the happy endings. It says so in the book.”

A place where all of their happy endings had been stolen.

“Did Hook tell you that?”

“Hook?” Henry repeated. “Like, Captain Hook?”

“No,” Emma said, shaking her head. “No, like Hook from The Rabbit Hole.”

Henry was nodding. “Yeah, Liam’s brother. Hook. Captain Hook, Emma. He’s in the book, too.”

“Listen to me: I’m not in any book, I’m a real person. I’m no savior,” she said. “But you’re right about one thing--I wanted you to have your best chance, and it wasn’t with me.”

“But it could be,” Henry said quietly. “You don’t know what it’s like here. With her. It’s not--it really sucks, Emma.”

Emma was surprised to hear that kind of language from a ten-year-old and she wanted to grab him, to soothe him. She didn’t know if she was allowed to, though, so she rubbed her hand against his shoulder and quickly pulled it away.

“You could be,” Hook had said.

She couldn’t do this.

She was not parent material.

How could she be a parent when she never was one? When she never had one?

“Believe me, kid,” Emma said, “I know what ‘sucking’ is. I was left on the side of a freeway--my parents didn’t even bother to drive me to a hospital. But I’m sure, in her way, your mom is trying her best.”

“Emma,” Henry said, “you’ve met her. You’ve seen her. Do you really believe that?”

She didn’t--she really didn’t. But she couldn’t say that to a ten-year-old kid who wasn’t legally hers.

“I want to, kid,” Emma said.

“You know she’s the Evil Queen,” Henry said. “She’s the one who made it so your parents had to send you away--they didn’t leave you on the side of the freeway. That’s just where you came through.”

“What?”

“When you went through the wardrobe,” Henry said, “your parents were just trying to save you from the curse--so you could find them, and break it.”

“You found me,” Snow said. “Did you ever doubt that I would?”

“Sure they were, kid,” Emma said. “So, you spend a lot of time with Hook?”

“Liam’s my friend,” he said, shrugging. “His brother is always really nice to me.”

“And you told him about your storybook? That’s why you think he’s Captain Hook?”

Henry looked shocked. “Of course not, Emma,” he said. “They don’t know they’re cursed. That’s the whole point.”

But Hook--he knew.

“And you think I’m here to break this curse? That’s why you stole Mary Margaret’s credit card to find me? Why you left the book in my office?”

“Yeah,” he said with certainty. “Because you’re the product of True Love. That’s what makes you the Savior.”

“True Love,” he’d said. “That’s the most powerful magic of all, or so they say.” He’d said that, as if magic were real and it was just that simple, and then he’d looked at her with the kind of look you get in your eyes when you’ve been left alone. The kind of look a man might have after growing up under an indenture and losing the brother who had protected him--the kind of look he might have after watching the woman he loved die while he was helpless to stop it--the kind of look that might drive a man to chase his vengeance through worlds and time and finally give himself over to a curse in the hope of finally finding his revenge.

“You really believe,” Emma said, “that everyone in this world is a fairy tale character?”

Everything you think you believe is wrong.

But Emma Swan was not a believer.

“No,” Henry said.

Emma smiled, relieved.

“Just the ones in this part of town, in Storybrooke,” he said. “Time’s been frozen, only, I think it started moving again when you got here.”

“And no one noticed that time just, like, didn’t move?”

“They don’t know,” Henry insisted. “It’s a haze to them, ask anyone anything about their pasts.”

“As long as I can remember,” Ruby said. "As long as I can remember,” Hook said. He’s older than he looks.

“So let me get this straight,” Emma said. “For decades, people have been wandering around, not aging, with screwed-up memories, stuck in a curse?”

“Yeah, exactly!” Henry said. “I knew you’d get it--that’s why we need you. You’re the only one who can stop my mom.”

“Because I’m the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming,” Emma said.

“Yes,” Henry said. “But my mom doesn’t know that--we have the advantage.”

“The child got away,” Hook had said.

“Riiiight,” Emma said, drawing out the word. “And who--who do you think Snow White is, exactly?”

“Miss Blanchard,” Henry said. “Definitely. And I’m pretty sure that Sheriff Nolan is Prince Charming.”

“It’s like we’re cursed,” Mary Margaret had said.

“Oh, kid,” Emma said again.

“I have a name, you know,” he said. “It’s Henry.”

“Yeah,” Emma whispered.

Henry put his hand on her arm. “I know you like me, Emma. And I know the hero never believes at first. If they did, it wouldn’t be a very good story.” He held the book out to her, barely balancing it in both hands.

Emma took the book.

She was not a believer.

@kmomof4 @shireness-says @spartanguard @optomisticgirl @katie-dub @eirabach @stahlop @snowbellewells @captainsjedi @carpedzem @scientificapricot @searchingwardrobes @mariakov81

#csrt #our little life (rounded with a sleep)#captain swan rewrite a thon #cs fic #canon divergence #S1 divergence #cursed!killian #an alternate theory of the curse

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hcllenic · 5 years ago

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(DOUGLAS BOOTH, CIS MALE) - Have you seen APOLLO DEMETRIUS BLACKTHORN? APOLLO is in HIS SENIOR year. The HISTORY MAJOR is 23 years old & is a SCORPIO. People say HE is CREATIVE, INDEPENDENT, CALLOUS and CYNICAL. Rumors say they’re a member of CALLOWAY. I heard from the gossip blog that HE IS NOT HIS FATHER’S BIOLOGICAL SON.

content warnings for death, drug use ?? i think thats it

he’s cupid’s brother

from a very wealthy family that rose to prominence around 1921, taking power in a variety of places. kind of like the kennedys. likely cursed. apollo claims he doesn’t believe in said curse, but the truth is more that he doesn’t want to believe in the curse.

moves from highs to lows really quickly – one week he’s extremely extroverted and ready to fight god and the next he’s alone in his dorm ignoring a paper in the name of wondering if he actually has an identity beneath the one that seems to just have been formed to get his family’s attention / approval / warmth

is honestly very defensive – i don’t mean in arguments, but rather when it comes to relationships. he’s the first one to cut and run because he tends to anticipate the fall before it happens. he tells himself he doesn’t care about his siblings because he’s honestly convinced they would sell his soul to satan for one corn chip.

nothing is eternal and he really knows this – he’s constantly waiting for death to come ‘round the corner. or something else, equally dramatic.

bit of a morbid sense of humour that not everyone appreciates.

almost has this idea that the rest of his siblings are gonna have to die if he wants to end up happy and successful which he KNOWS is absolutely wrong and not productive at all but like.... that shitty luck <3

grew up, for the most part, at his parent’s estate in romania but he really liked to travel and would do so often, after he turned sixteen

he thought he’d found a loophole around the curse / bad luck / whatever u wanna call it by simply not dating but this girl he was like FULLY in love w died in a hunting accident when he was fourteen over summer break (they’d met at boarding school) and he was like. hm. fuck. could be unrelated but.... hm.

so now if he has feelings for someone he just panics. he figured out he was bi and doesn’t really have that much internalized homophobia but he DOES have internalized cursephobia. if he thinks he’s into someone regardless of their gender he’ll ghost them or start a fight w them intentionally or start deliberately trying to notice their flaws

found out he wasn’t his father’s son bc he found a letter his mom wrote to his actual father which was never sent

he burned the letter because, at the time, he was terrified of anyone else finding out. he’s pretty sure it was the only evidence.

SUCH a hedonist. he will do whatever he thinks is the most entertaining until a deadline shows up at which point it’s time for apollo to take a ridiculous amount of adderall and finish a ten page paper in three hours. they’re often riddled with spelling mistakes but they have made some good points. he HATES making up his works cited tho its like pulling teeth w him

relatively responsible driver by day but smth about the night makes him REALLY wanna speed. prone to road... exasperation?? its not rage idk

he has like... contained anger issues like he’s never directed them at anyone he just wanders off to have a fit and then returns. hnstly pretty sure he works out to let off that steam

he’s kind of intelligent but he’s also such a fucking idiot. he had no idea how to cook / do laundry / do ANY of that at all until he was alone at university and, after a week of literally just buying new clothes instead of washing the ones he owned, finally googled how to use a washing machine

absolutely not a monogamist and you should not trust him <3 that said i feel like he’s not secretive about that one particular aspect of his personality like he’ll let people know that if they want a relationship he’s not the person to be approaching which tbqh is probably there to mask how deeply he actually would love to be in a fully monogamous and faithful relationship lol he’s a secret romantic just like... doesn’t wanna get hurt. and he CLAIMS he doesn’t believe in the family curse but that’s kind of bullshit. he does. a potential simp pretending he does not have the capacity to simp

can be awful at taking advice. he’ll listen to it and understand it but he’ll disregard it anyway

very bad at being optimistic. he does feel a bit cursed, again, even if he claims he doesn’t believe in said curse. the blackthorn bad luck always feels like its nipping at his heels.

he can be sooooo dramatic. he’s obnoxious <3

but he’s also like..... relatively independent? he doesn’t like asking for help and he feels like leaning on people too heavily is a shortcoming on his part so he just. will not.

really good at group projects like for some reason he feels too guilty about not actually giving them his all and will actually put effort in whereas when it comes to his own individual projects he’ll just say fuck it (unless he’s genuinely interested)

studying history w an economics minor because he figured he should go for something more or less related to capitalism to soften the blow of running to academia

a bit sensitive about the fact that he’s not actually related to his father by blood. it makes him think about all the conflicts he’d ever had with his father post finding out about his real parentage and like... when he thinks about all of that i think he realizes that his family’s love may very well be entirely conditional and he’s afraid of that. which might be why it almost seems, smtms, like he is actively trying to push them away because he thinks if he leaves first its Fine :)

rlly likes creative ventures he just LOVES working w his hands its so soothing to him. will often be in the pottery studio after dark. he can play piano

wanted connections:

close friends (or as close as he can get) – he seems a little detached and there are def moments where he just vanishes without a trace for a week but they seem to be okay with this and he loves them for it. never feels suffocated by them at all. is occasionally afraid his luck will negatively impact them but so far, so good.

they hooked up a few times then he ghosted them and now its AWKWARD

enemies. please !!!! its unrealistic that he wld be able to exist without ppl hating him

and maybe enemies to friends / enemies to lovers tropes can happen like... i love that.

they’ve known each other for a long time and neither of them trust the other but they have spent many nights together and would probably call each other friends if asked.

they’re similarly chaotic / detached / miserable and sometimes they lean heavily on each other because they don’t really have anyone else who gets it.

they committed a crime together once

they’re attracted to each other but he goes out of his way to avoid them bc he’s like . that seems like the WORST idea. it rlly seems like he actively hates them

classmates

and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates)

someone he literally just argues with all the time. like thats the whole relationship

someone as obsessive as him who is willing to accompany him down history or science or whatever related rabbit holes and procrastinate with him. he wld die for them <3

#drug use //#death //#yatesintro

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