#and then getting confused and just capitalizing random english words too so i had to nuke the autocorrect on my phone

[wynnyfryd]

I follow you for your writing and also I just think you're nice! And a fun follow!

thank you so much! delighted that my unhinged rambling and constant lowercase hasn’t scared everyone off lmao

[marauderundercover]

This Side of Normal Ch. 7

AO3

Prev

Marinette Dupain Cheng didn’t have a normal life. On the contrary, some would call her life Miraculous. Well, one would. And she would whack him every time. As much as she loved her brother (in all but blood) Adrien, she couldn’t stand his puns most of the time. After he first lost his arm a year ago at the final battle against Hawkmoth, she let him get away with a lot of puns and awful jokes. Because she blamed herself for his injury. She should’ve been able to fix him. But she wasn’t. She still blamed herself some days, but she no longer laughed at every single one of his puns. He knew she hated them, and it was better for her mental health to let him know how awful they were. She’s stirred from her thoughts by Adrien nudging her, obviously trying to get her attention.

“Where are we going for our spring break trip? You helped Mme. Bustier plan that, right?” Adrien asks. She frowns, not sure what brought that topic up.

“We’re going to spend a week in New York and then a week in London. Why?” She asks, confused at his worried expression.

“Okay well, maybe you should tell Mme. Bustier that. Because she just said that we’re spending two weeks in New Jersey.” Adrien says with a grimace.

“WHAT!?” She yells, jumping out of her seat.

“Marinette! I was trying to go over the details of the trip. I’m very disappointed in you. You know better than to interrupt like that.” Mme. Bustier says, shaking her head with a small frown. Marinette’s face turns red and she drops back into her seat, muttering an apology.

“What do you mean we’re going to New Jersey? What’s even in New Jersey?” She asks Adrien in a hushed whisper, conscious of the glares from Lila at the front of the room but determined to ignore them any way she can.

“Gotham, apparently. And the Wayne family. According to Lila, she can get us in for a tour at Wayne Enterprises and Gotham Academy and every other thing the Waynes do. Because she’s dating Damian Wayne, didn’t you know?” Adrien explains, lip quirking in amusement. Marinette groans, dropping her head onto their table.

“Do you realize now I’m going to have to arrange at least part of that? Or we won’t have anything to do and we’ll be stuck in some random city for two whole weeks.” Marinette says, a headache already forming.

“Or, or, hear me out. You could just let her fail. And the trip will flop and everyone will see that she’s awful.” Adrien says. It was a much different response than what he would’ve had a year ago. But the defeat of Hawkmoth and the revelation that his father was a supervillain was enough to alter Adrien’s world view. He wasn’t hopelessly optimistic anymore. He was more cynical. He was still insanely kind, but he didn’t give out his kindness to people who didn’t deserve it. Like the lying bitch in their class.

“I don’t wanna be stuck in a hotel with her for two weeks.” Marinette points out with a grimace. “Wait a minute, why does Gotham sound familiar?”

“Probably from when you were friends with Alya. Batman and his whole team is from Gotham.” He says, slumping down in his seat so that he can continue to whisper to her.

“Oh goody. Crime capital of the US and Lila decides to lie her way into the city. But it wasn’t enough for just her to be targeted. Oh no, she had to get our entire class involved. Yippee.” Marinette snarks, shoving her face back into her folded arms on the desk. It was too much for this early. Time for a nap.

---

After submitting a five thousand word essay on how beneficial a tour of Wayne Enterprises would be and an additional three thousand word essay to Gotham Academy on the benefits of having an exchange class for a week, Marinette was pleased to say that their trip to Gotham wouldn’t be completely boring.

In fact, it would be similar enough to what Lila had lied that hopefully, she wouldn’t be blamed for messing anything up. Sure, they wouldn’t have personal tours from the Wayne family or an invitation to the Spring Gala that the Waynes were hosting, but at least they’d have something to do in Crime City. Hopefully with the amount of security at both Gotham Academy and WE, they wouldn’t run into too many villains. After three years under Hawkmoth, she never wanted to deal with a villain again. Unless she could punch him or her in the face. Then yeah, she’d happily meet a villain. But seeing as it’s highly frowned upon to piss off a Gotham villain like that, she’d prefer to just not see one at all. Would certainly make things easier.

Marinette huffs, glaring at the mess of clothes falling out of her suitcase. She’d started packing two days ago, and then yesterday discovered that she packed the outfit she wanted to wear on the plane. So then she had to take everything out, but then she couldn’t find the outfit and after throwing everything around she found the outfit. Still in her dresser. And now she had a huge mess falling out of her suitcase and not enough time left to pack neatly. Not if she wanted to get any sleep.

“Hey Adrien, can you give me a hand?” She asks, beginning to fold the mess of clothes back up. He’s silent for a minute, and then she hears a click. She sighs and looks up just in time to catch the arm he threw at her.

“There you go!” He says cheekily, a wide grin on his face as he hangs upside down from her bed. She narrows her eyes.

“You know what I meant, you absolute menace.” She deadpans. He snorts before dropping down, landing gracefully and catching the arm she throws back at him.

“You know you love me, Bug.” He says, helping her fold her clothes.

“Unfortunately.” She says with a dramatic sigh. “You hear from Jay yet this week?”

“Yeah. Told me, and I quote ‘stop annoying Pixie Pop with your lameass jokes kid. I can’t protect you from her fury from across the ocean’.” He says with a laugh.

“At least he knows I’d best you in a fight.” She says with a hum. Adrien sputters, an offended look on his face as he slams her last shirt into her suitcase.

“That is not what that meant!” He argues with a pout.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Kitty.” She says, zipping the suitcase shut and trying hard to ignore the bad feeling settling deep into her stomach. Something was going to happen in Gotham, and she wasn’t sure if it would be good or bad.

---

Of course the class would leave them on their first full day in Gotham. It made sense. They’d hated Mari before Hawkmoth’s reveal. And after Hawkmoth’s reveal, they were hesitant around Adrien. Even with the whole ‘my dad cut off my arm’ thing. So honestly, leaving the two of them stranded at the hotel was just par for the course.

“At least we’re together.” Marinette says bitterly, thinking of the fact that the class would be getting to tour Wayne Enterprises. A place that she had worked hard to allow them to tour.

“Come on Mari, look on the bright side.” Adrien says, grabbing her hand and tugging her along.

“What bright side? We were left behind, in Gotham, of all places. What could possibly be good about this situation?” She asks, slightly dragging her feet as he tugged her along behind him.

“Mmmm, the fact that Wayne Enterprises is only a block away.” He says with a grin. She straightens immediately, actually keeping up with his pace now instead of allowing herself to be dragged behind him.

“Why didn’t you lead with that?” She asks, shaking her head in faux disappointment. He shrugs.

“I like a little chaos.” He says. Marinette opens her mouth to snark back at him, but is instead silenced by the building in front of her. Wayne Enterprises was slightly intimidating, but she was still amazed by its design. It was modern and sleek and her hand twitched towards the sketchbook in her purse. She could just imagine skirts with the same sleek shapes and dark colors, suits whose build was used to make the wearer look taller. Just as she’s about to pull out her sketchbook, she sees a familiar head of hair walking into the building. Dark hair with a white streak. But-

“Was that Jason?” She asks, suddenly far more interested in the man who just walked in. Adrien’s gaze snaps to where hers is, frowning at the closed door.

“I don’t know, but let’s go see.” He says, and this time, she’s the one tugging him. Their class completely forgotten. Until they walk through the doors and hear the incessant chatter and noise that comes with being around Lila Rossi. But not enough that is enough to deter the two from their goal. Especially when the man they’d followed turns around, a familiar face set into a scowl.

“Jay!” Marinette calls, waving at him. The man’s scowl instantly drops into a wide smile and he rushes past the class, sweeping the two up into a huge hug.

“Pixie! Kid! What are you two doing here?” He asks, holding them close.

“Jay-Jay, can’t breathe.” Mari says, letting out a puff of air as he sets them down gently.

“Hey Jay!” Adrien says, a wide smile on his face, one of the most sincere smiles Mari had seen in a while. She felt her own face fall into an easy smile. After a year apart, they were together again.

“Uh. Jason? Job, remember?” A voice asks, pulling the three out of their reunion. Jason looks at the man and rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, Dick, thanks. I’d completely forgotten why I came all the way here.” He snarks, no venom in his tone.

“Did you just-” Marinette starts to ask, uncertain if he was calling the man a name or?

“Shit, I forget that even though you speak it just fine, English isn’t your first language. His name is Richard, but ‘Dick’ is a nickname for Richard. It’s what he usually goes by.” Jason explains, snorting at the look on her face. She huffs and rolls her eyes.

“Well excuse me, Mr. To be fair, you calling someone that wouldn’t be out of the question. You have shitty language a lot of the time.” She teases with a smirk.

“That’s it. You’re disowned. I no longer claim you as my little sister.” He says, turning around dramatically and walking away. Marinette’s jaw drops at him. She looks at Adrien who just smirks, and then at Dick who just looks confused with the entire situation.

“What the hell was that? I thought I was the dramatic one.” She pouts.

“Looks like you’ve lost your touch Bug.” Adrien says, crossing his arms. Her eyes narrow.

“Is that a challenge?” She asks. He shrugs.

“Do with it what you will. Just don’t get him in trouble, I think he actually works here.” He says, glancing around the packed lobby. Marinette looks around and sighs. She didn’t want to make a scene with the class, and she definitely didn’t want Jason to get in trouble.

“I’ll get him later.” She mumbles, falling into place on Adrien’s right side naturally. The two walk in sync to the rest of the class, oblivious to the bewildered look given to them by Dick Grayson.

Next

Master list

Tag list (open): @toodaloo-kangaroo @laurcad123 @kittenmywaythrulife @lost-in-the-world-of-maribat

[mattsvn]

Nostalgia.

Iwaizumi Hajime x fem!reader

Summary: A summer after graduation finds Iwaizumi Hajime halfway across the globe, sitting in a lecture hall and staring at a golden dome that reminds him of the world and his place in it. Or, the lack thereof.

Genre: Slight angst to fluff. Character introspection, self discovery!

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: none.

A/N: Guess who’s crying :smiley: Okay, so I got inspired by this tik tok, check it out, show the artist some love, and adding to another idea I had this came up, I hope you guys like it!  ALSO, that beautiful summary was suggested by @meliorist-midoriya​ !!!​ Repost from my old blog, this is on my favorite fics ever written hehe

There is something distinctive about the traces left by people in the places they inhabited. Whether intentional or not, to enter a house that was once occupied is to step into an unknown life, where all that remains are the lines drawn on the wall frames, with random dates, leaving a record of someone’s growth.

A part of the wall with a lighter color, where photographs once hung and the trace of old drawings on the wall could be seen even if you paid close attention. Seeing the home you had lived in for years empty, lifeless or without its distinctive smell caused an ache in your chest that you couldn’t describe, how was that atmosphere created again, with spotless walls, perfect floors and the lack of human warmth?

You weren’t afraid of living alone, you were afraid of having a lonely life.

It was frightening to think that the apartment you had just bought might feel like it was inhabited by a ghost, with no trace that anyone had ever been there. One way or another you wanted to make that space, with only two rooms and one bathroom, feel like your home, even if it was just you, even if you would only live there for a few months.

So, amidst the worry about establishing a home and hundreds of paperwork, came the first day of college, one more step to adapt to, the breaking of a routine you had just begun to create.

There was no better way to start that school year than by being on time, so, at least for the first week, you tried to be there early enough. It gave you time to get through the school buildings, and to finish your coffee just before the first class started.

Thursday arrived, with the first class being Medieval Art, not usually a subject that caught the attention of many, so it was common to see empty seats. Still, as usual, you were planning on choosing the seat right next to the window, where the sunlight illuminated your notes, but that day, it seemed that someone already occupied that place.

You sat next to him, there was no reason not to share the table, didn’t pay attention to him, it seemed that the boy was taking a nap a few minutes before class, probably he had a class before that one, or he was just tired. The teacher settled into her seat, and you glanced sideways, only to see that the boy was still asleep, not moving.

“One day, the architect, Frank Gehry said: architecture should speak of its time and place, but yearn for timelessness” she began, while behind her appeared the image of a building you had heard too much about. “I think one of the best representations of this is Hagia Sofia” she continued, showing the image of that beautiful golden dome behind her, she kept talking.

As the guy next to you opened his eyes, sleepily he took a deep breath, concentrating on the image in front of him, with some concern he took the supplies from his backpack to take notes for the class, he seemed lost, confused and, in general, tired, like he was there by mistake, or, against his will.

Iwaizumi was not usually like this. Before moving to the United States, he had never been late for a class, he was the type of person who kept everything in order, always punctual, with notes in order and an impeccable grade. A role model in every sense of the word, student, athlete and perfect son.

But as soon as he arrived from his flight, tired to the bone and affected by jet lag, he slept as much as he could, only to wake up in the early morning, stunned by the different time zone he could not fall asleep at the right time, he still couldn’t get used to the food offered there, and he was unable to find the ingredients he would commonly use in Miyagi to eat.

People drove on the left seat, and the road was on the right side, they used to eat on the street without any concern, or on the way to their jobs and schools, nor did there seem to be manners in public transportation, at least no the ones he knew. There were words that confused him, and the symbols on the streets made his head spin.

People did not have the same habits he knew, and he noticed that after only a couple of days after moving in. By the time school started, Iwaizum was still trying to sleep at the time he was used to and didn’t make it until two or three in the morning, so, it resulted in waking up late and sleeping in between classes, he still wasn’t used to having his notes in English, so his handwriting looked weird, the teachers spoke too fast for him to understand, therefore, his notes were all over the place

Not to mention how unpunctual they were, he found himself a couple of times arriving late to class, only to find out that the teacher wasn’t there, and that it would probably take them twenty minutes more to arrive, and sometimes, they would cancel the class when you were already there, just because.

Even in the classes he looked forward the most, he found himself tired, bored, easily distracted, and he expected the same from this one, a subject he had taken only to complete his units. But, when he opened his eyes, he swore he had never seen anything as beautiful as that. A gorgeous dome of gleaming gold, with light streaming in through the windows and the distinctive marks of history on its walls.

It took him a few seconds to listen to the professor properly, as he was still impressed with what he saw on the projector, there was nothing that did not interest him, from the columns to that painting of the Virgin Mary, an impeccable marble floor, and, the mixture of both religions on its walls was perhaps what left him most curious of all that he had seen.

There was nothing like that in Japan, or at least not that he remembered. Byzantine architecture had that distinctive feature in which it left you mesmerized for a moment, he was so enraptured by it that he didn’t notice that there was someone sitting next to him, taking notes of the things the teacher was saying, with a slightly frown, concentrating, and different pens scattered around the table. The teacher continued talking, still detailing how a building created almost fifteen hundred years ago remained one of the finest constructions in human history.

Hagia Sofia, she read from the blackboard. He wrote down the title in a slightly disorganized way, along with the rest of the words on the board.

Hagia Sofia, meaning: holy wisdom. Constantinople, now Istanbul.

“Long before what we now know, the Byzantine Empire took place in what is now Istanbul, the capital of this empire is perhaps one of the most important historical and architectural sites of the Medieval Era, this was the largest known church  for about a thousand years. It has been used as a church, a mosque and now serves as a museum.” She explained, showing the various images of the building. ”There were two later constructions after this, one destroyed in a fire and the second in the Niká riots, then, in the year 532 construction began on what we now know as Hagia Sofia.“

"Wow” Iwazumi sighed, absently sketching the shape of the building.

“I won’t tell you much about this building, at least not for now,” said the teacher, pausing for a moment to look at the picture. “I want an essay on this topic, and I would like you to gather in pairs for it.” she asked them. “I just want your opinions and analysis on the things that are most important to you about the place and what you think is meant to be represented by these, either imagery or architecture. Your partner will be the person who is closest to you, starting with the two of you, at the bottom.”

You looked at Iwaizumi out of the corner of your eye, having to work with people you didn’t know was always a problem, but, you hoped it wouldn’t be like that this time. He also looked at you, a little relieved thinking that you would surely know something about Medieval Architecture, not like him, who felt totally lost in that new subject. Even so, he returned his gaze to the front, memorizing every detail of that dome in his mind.

The class continued, with the teacher talking about historical processes in the fifth century and the topics that would be taken throughout the course, Hajime could not help but see the excitement that certain topics caused you, especially with the mention of some gothic buildings. And so, in the blink of an eye, the class was over, and before he realized it, you were already grabbing your things to leave.

“My next class is Historical Theory, what’s yours? We can organize on the way” you said, looking at him for a second while you closed your backpack. Iwaizumi tried to put his belongings away as quickly as possible, but failed a bit with his clumsy movements. “What’s your major?"

"Oh, Sports Science,” he replied. Your reaction was as expected: confusion, what was a sports science major doing in a medieval art class? “All the other classes were busy and I needed some extra units.”

“Oh, I see” you nodded, walking out of the classroom with him walking beside you.

“What’s your major?” he asked, feeling somewhat embarrassed that he hadn’t asked that before.

“Art History” you replied, with a smile. “By the way, my name is y/n” you said, extending your hand, he received it, still not used to the way people introduced themselves there, but little by little he was starting to adjust to it.

“Iwaizumi Hajime” he cleared his throat, here they speak by first names, not last names, you idiot, he said to himself in his mind. “Hajime.”

“So, Hajime, you didn’t organize your classes on time, you take naps before class, and you don’t know anything about Medieval Art” you jokingly commented. “We have quite a bit to learn, don’t you think?”

“Uh… y-yes” he nodded, stopping when you did, not even realizing how far he had walked. “I won’t let you do all the work, if that’s what you’re worried about” he assured, it seemed they were in front of the door to your next class the moment you stopped and looked at the door, Iwaizumi didn’t want to take up your time, but he had no idea what to say either.

“Well, how about we meet in the library later this week? You can give me your number so we can schedule the day” you hoped the professor wouldn’t come to the classroom while you were talking to  Iwaizumi, as he seemed like a very nice person, despite how nervous he was.

“Sure, I have the whole afternoon off tomorrow, is that okay?” you nodded, extending your phone to him so he could write down his number and name, to your luck, he returned it just in time.

“Sounds perfect to me, I’ll text you as soon as my class is over” you said, saying goodbye and entering just before the teacher, who closed the door behind himself.

Iwaizumi stared at the door for a few seconds, letting out a sigh,then, he walked to his next class. It felt awfully strange to walk around campus alone, with no one by his side. Maybe he had gotten too used to spending his free time with the rest of his friends in highschool, and, at times like these, where he was waiting for a message from a cute girl, he couldn’t help but think about how much he missed them.

He was alone, and that was terrifying.

Iwaizumi looked at his phone for the third time in an hour, the class, food chemistry, was just short of making him fall asleep, yet he couldn’t help but look at his phone and wonder at what point the cute girl in the Medieval Art class would send him a message.

She didn’t until almost four hours later, just as Iwaizumi had recently returned to his apartment and was working on a long assignment for the rest of the week. Ignoring the sound of a message at first, thinking it was probably Oikawa bugging him about some new thing he learned in Argentina, so, he didn’t look at his phone until a couple of minutes later, when a second message came through.

“Hi! Sorry I didn’t talk to you sooner, I’ve been a little busy, but this is my number!”

“My last class ends at 2:00 p.m., do you mind if I meet you at that time in the library?”

He answered almost immediately, regretting later for doing it so quickly, you look like a desperate idiot, he thought. To his luck, as soon as he locked the phone, the screen lit up again with the reply.

It seemed that after that things flowed perfectly, even though before he met her they would have seemed like inconveniences to him, now they looked as an opportunity. The professor for tomorrow’s class informed them that he was out of town, so his classes would start until the following week, which gave Iwaizumi a chance to continue with his homework calmly, and, to get ready to see the pretty girl the next day, maybe even sleep properly that night.

However, nothing went as he planned.

Again, he found himself staring at the ceiling at midnight, without any possibility of being able to fall asleep, no matter how hard he tried, nothing seemed to work. That wasn’t his bed, nor his sheets or his favorite pillow, it wasn’t his wall or the window overlooking his backyard. As he stared at the empty, flat ceiling, he wondered why he couldn’t at least see a golden dome so he would have something to think about while he tried to sleep.

And so he woke up quite late, much later than he was used to. Maybe his body took the opportunity to recover all his lost energy, he had no idea. The only thing he knew was that he woke up thirty minutes before the agreed time with the pretty girl, and, it took fifteen minutes to get to the library from where he was.

He sent as many messages as he could while getting dressed and trying to look as presentable as possible. At least it wasn’t strange to see people running around campus, although it was in the first few weeks of school, where no one was really worried about anything.

“I told you I could wait a while” you mentioned, Iwaizumi was standing in front of her, trying to control his breathing, visibly agitated for having run all the way to the library. “Tell me you at least ate something” you murmured, in a way to accept his apology, then he sat on the free seat in front of you, trying to avoid that questioning.

“I can eat something later, sorry I was late” he apologized, again, he expected you to be upset, but you weren’t, instead, the first thing he saw was a reassuring smile, you hadn’t been more than ten minutes late, so, there was really no problem. “Again, I’m sorry, I was…”

“You don’t have to apologize, Iwaizumi. You were only ten minutes late, I’ve known people who take an hour to show up” the boy looked at the table for the first time, it was almost like the mess she had in yesterday’s class, only now it had several open books around it. “My class ended early so I went ahead to research an assignment I had, don’t you want to go get something to eat before we start?”

“I’d rather do this and then I can eat something, I wouldn’t want to waste your time even more” he replied, it was too obvious that he still didn’t quite master English, or maybe he did but he was quite embarrassed about how it was that he pronounced things. “I’ve never had this happen to me before, I’m sorry, I’m not usually like this.”

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s okay? Seriously, but why are you late? If you say it doesn’t usually happen to you” Iwaizumi looked towards the window with a frown, he felt like he would spend an embarrassment for that, because, sleeping late was not a good excuse, actually, nothing was a good excuse for his lateness, but still, he sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re coming in with a hangover?”

“No, no, not at all. It’s just… I’m still not used to the time change here and I’m used to sleeping at a totally different time” he said, though there was more to it.

The insomnia was only a collateral result of how he felt, and perhaps what kept him most irritable. Perhaps he had chosen that change too quickly, or the feeling was probably something that would fade with time. But he couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t quite connected to reality, like he was living a strange dream. The routine he had worked on for years that kept him safe was gone, and was now out of his reach.

He missed going out every Tuesday for lunch with Oikawa, Makki and Mattsun. He missed walking to school and greeting his neighbors, or the way Oikawa’s older sister squeezed his cheeks, even though he said how much he detested it, he missed the karaoke he went to once a month and his mother’s food, hell, he even missed Oikawa’s obnoxious nephew.

“So, where are you from? Moving is hard enough, I can’t imagine doing it from another country” he looked at her, realizing she was genuinely concerned and curious, she meant it. The sincerity brought him calm, enough to say what he felt.

“Japan, I just got here a couple of weeks ago, I still don’t understand much and my English isn’t the best so I’m not having the best time” he pointed out, as he picked up his notebook, watching as she jotted something down on the computer, adding a document to start the essay. “Not to be rude, but your culture is really weird.”

“You don’t have to tell me, it is. But you end up getting used to it, don’t you? I find people’s behavior patterns depending on their culture interesting” Iwaizumi hadn’t even noticed that there was already a book on Byzantine architecture on the table, which showed a picture of Hagia Sophia from the outside. “Besides, it’s normal to miss your hometown, don’t you think, what did you most like to do there?”

“Playing volleyball with my friends” he answered without hesitation, for it was true. He missed every detail of it, from the practices, to the coach yelling at his teammates to the games, even the ones he lost.

“Oh, were they on a team together?” she put the computer aside, devoting her full attention to him. Iwaizumi nodded, ready to talk about all the amazing things his team had. “Were you guys good?”

“Well, yes. At least within reason, we were. We never made it to nationals, but within our prefecture we were very good” he nodded, still feeling the bitter taste of defeat on the tip of his tongue as if it had happened yesterday, his last chance to go to nationals ended before it even started.

“And what position did you play?” he questioned, Iwaizumi picked up the book on the table solely to have something to distract himself with.

“Uh, wing spiker. I was the ‘ace’ of the school, but of course, I couldn’t be any of it without Oikawa."

"Oikawa?”

The conversation did not stop since then, between readings, corrections and stories about his high school, Iwaizumi did not even realize that almost three hours had passed, three hours in which he could not believe what he saw in images, despite all the fear he had, all the nostalgia that accumulated inside him, seeing that building in Constantinople brought him a peace that he could not manage to understand, no matter how much he wondered what was going on.

Although it didn’t compare to how the pretty girl explained things, he should probably stop referring to her as the pretty girl and start calling her by her name, as he ended up forgetting it, and every time she said his name, he blamed himself for not remembering hers. He learned everything he wanted to know in one afternoon, thanks to her, the semi domes, the atrium, every detail, structural and artistic there, he memorized it with her voice, melodious, calm, safe.

After making a couple of questions, he lost his fear of asking what he was seeing, because, as she told him, “no one knows everything, there will always be someone who knows something you don’t”. So, he ended up engaged in a conversation about the wonders of medieval architecture and no more than ten minutes later, the conversation drifted to the karaoke that his friends loved, or the park where he and Oikawa learned to play volleyball.

Life at the university became more bearable thanks to her, Iwaizumi heard the story of how she had just moved out of her parents’ house, how they also moved out of their house and the pain it caused her to leave the home she loved empty. She enjoyed knitting, watching movies and listening to new music all the time. In a couple of weeks, he discovered her favorite food, and the kind of clothes she liked best, the movies that made her cry and the ones that made her die laughing, and with each thing he learned, she asked him the same questions. Even though he wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to answer, or what people used to say, it made him wonder if he seemed like a nice person or someone who would be interesting to spend time with.

Tuesdays of going out to eat became Tuesdays of organized movies in the dorms, once-a-month karaokes became visits to museums instead of his neighbors, now he was greeting his roommates every morning, now the cute girl in Medieval Art class was the one squeezing his cheeks, it seemed that, little by little, everything was starting to be as he knew it.

Or at least that’s what he thought

“But what do you like, Iwaizumi?” she asked him on a sunny afternoon where sunlight illuminated her room and there was a random movie on TV as the background noise, around her a lot of snacks and fried food, that’s what Saturdays were like, relaxed and sunny. “I almost feel like I know Oikawa like you do, but you don’t tell me much about yourself.”

“Huh?” he asked, doubtful, hadn’t he been talking about himself all that time, or had he only thought he was? “I don’t know what you want to know about me.”

“I want to know who you are, beyond all your friends and the people in your life.I know what Oikawa likes and how many fans he had or the perfect settings he did, but I want to know about you.” she told him.

She didn’t know if it was because the girl was an art enthusiast, or if she just hadn’t met someone who wanted to know more about him for her own pleasure, for what she felt was inexplicable.

“Well, well… with my team” he began, stopping the moment he saw the look on the girl’s face, who could only thus make him feel as if he were a scolded child. He sighed, running his hand through his hair, confused as to what it was he should say.

“Who are you, Iwaizumi, what do you like, what song do you like the most? I don’t want to know about other people, I want to know about you, about what makes you who you are.” She began, the moment only seemed more special with the way the sun was shining on her skin and her smile seemed to shine even brighter than it always did. “I know you’re a good teammate, a good son, a good friend, but who are you, what are the qualities that you have?”

He looked into her eyes, how many times hadn’t he stopped to look into those beautiful eyes that stole his breath, or those lips that said the cutest yet most painful things?“

"Iwaizumi. I want you to tell me the story that you have, like Hagia Sophia, do you remember all the marks that it has? the mix of everything that lies in you? There is so much history in who you are beyond your friends, I want to know if you are happy or if you like ice cream, how you react to things. I hope you understand me, it’s okay to like things that your friends do or showed you, but I don’t think it should be all that you are, so, who are you?”

Still not taking his eyes off her, he remembered every detail of the building he studied for weeks, the religious motifs and art on its walls, the history even in the broken parts of the floor, or those portions where the paint was completely gone. And, with tears in his eyes, he replied:

“I don’t know.” He murmured, his voice trembling.

And he really didn’t know, he had lived so long being a friend, son, teammate and neighbor that, little by little, without realizing it, he stopped prioritizing the things that to him and only to him made him happy.

“Well, there’s only one thing to do about it” she murmured in the same way, very close to him as if she were telling him a secret. “Find out who you are.”

And just like that, the first picture of the two of you decorated your wall, along with some paint smudges from a sunny afternoon, a canvas, and some brushes, and a volleyball mark at first. Two wrongs can make a right, your mother would say. You, in search of rebuilding your space, and he, in search of himself.

You couldn’t have picked a better time than that, or a better life than that.

taglist: @sugas-sweetheart @kirislut @hannahalanib1 @goopyartiste @yee-harr @ohno-grapes @peach-pops @meliorist-midoriya @milktyama @majestic-sea-flip-flop @starlessnyx @tanakasimpcorner @msbyslugg @ordinary-ace @boosyboo9206

[babyspiderling]

Up To Interpretation Michael Jackson x reader

(Victory Tour)

I stand on the corner of the stage, the arena dead silent around me. I hear a radio playing softly from somewhere backstage and I sign along, closing my eyes and letting my hands dance and tell the story the singer weaves. I hear the click of hard souls on the concrete, their clacks drawing closer to me. The squeak of sneakers, or some kind of rubber soled shoe follows behind the first set. I don't stop signing through the interruption, focused on keeping up with the speed and the intent behind it. I hear both feet whispering to each other, but I don't pay them any mind. I have to be perfect for the first performance of the tour. The rubber soles squeak away as the click clack of the other pair grows closer. A hand is placed on my shoulder and I turn to the hard soled feet. I am met with one of the singers I am interpreting tonight. I concentrate on his eyes, signalling him to go on. Behind him, I see one of his brothers run up behind him, his rubber sneakers squeaking across the stage, a notebook and pen in hand. He shouts "I got what you asked for Mike!" Mr. Hard Shoes glances over his shoulder and accepts the items. Opening the book, he scribbled down on the paper. He quickly shoves the book into my hands and gestures to me to read what he had written. "Hello, my name is Michael Jackson. Who are you and what are you doing here?" His handwriting is a bit difficult to read, random capitalization's here and there, and the words scribbled quickly and carelessly. I guess I was taking too long to read the note, sneakers huffing out a "Great, not only is she deaf, but illiterate." I swallow and hand the book back to Michael, turning to sneakers. I stare him in the face as I sign. "Me not deaf. Me hearing. Me don't speak. Me sign. Me sign for you."

A/N: This is ASL Gloss, The sentence structure for ASL is a bit different than regular English. ASL is quick and to the point, since there are no signs for words like "and" "the" "or" etc. Deaf People are not cavemen, they can express the same thoughts, feelings, and ideas we can, they just do it a little differently.

His mouth drops open a little bit in confusion, his eyes locked on mine as he says to Michael, "What is she saying and why is she staring at me?" I roll my eyes and turn back to Michael. I sign "Your book, you give me? Please?" Michael gets the picture, the sign for book clueing him in. "Oh! You want my notebook? Here." He hands me the notebook and pen and I write carefully and legibly. "I'm not deaf. I'm actually hearing. I'm mute, so I sign. I'm your interpreter for the U.S leg of the tour." I hand the book back and patiently wait for him to read it. He playfully smacks sneakers upside the head, laughing out a "You idiot, she's not a crazy fan. She's our interpreter for the show! And she heard everything you said." I smile, seeing the relationship the two have.

Sneaker's eyes widen comically as he realizes how far he stuck his foot in his mouth. He walks up to me, holding out his hand for me to shake. "Sorry 'bout that. I'm Jackie. We just saw some girl standing on stage waving her hands around like a crazy person, and didn't know what to think." I shake his hand, signing book again so I can properly introduce myself. Under my previous message I write "I'm Y/N, I understand the confusion. I'm mute, meaning I can't talk, but I can hear everything just as well as you can. For some reason, the fact that I can't talk made them hire me on the spot. I was actually about to ask for the set list so I can rehearse, or at least be a little prepared for tonight." I hand the notebook to Jackie and keep the pen to myself, writing on my wrist to purchase a few notebooks myself. He nods and leads me to the backstage area, Michael following close behind. "I'll introduce you to the guys and get you the set list, alright?" I nod my head, memorizing the path since I probably won't be able to ask for directions if I got lost.

Jackie leads me to a dressing room filled with four other guys and two girls. Michael introduces me to the group, "Guys, this is Y/N, she's our interpreter for the U.S leg of the tour. Y/N, this is Jermaine, Marlon, Randy and Tito. These are our sisters La Toya and Janet." I wave to them, staying silent. Marlon says "Cool, signing even when off the clock, nice gimmick." I look back to Michael and sign "They read book." He stutters out "Oh right. Here guys, this should explain some." He takes the notebook from his pocket and tosses it to Jermaine, who then passes it around. La Toya walked up to me with this glint in her eye. "Oh! You're so pretty! If we were going anywhere else, I wouldn't do a thing, but those stage lights will completely wash you out, even the guys have to wear makeup. Can I get you ready?" I think about it, and nod. I hold up a finger, and write down. "It has to be simple. Nothing flashy. Rules of the game. No jewelry, no distracting clothes, no sparkle eye makeup. Not up to me, just comes with being an interpreter." She reads it quickly and sags her shoulders a bit. "Fine, I get it. Nothing too flashy. But I promise, we're going to have some fun." She drags me to a second dressing room, one with lit up mirrors and vanities. She sits me down and pulls out a giant makeup case. I relax my face and let her do her thing, trusting her to not go overboard. She plugs in a curling iron as she finishes up my makeup. Without any paper around, I try my best to communicate. I pull my hair back, off my face, another rule of interpreting. Luckily, La Toya got the message. "Oh! Hair back, got it." She curls my hair, completely covering it in hairspray, and gives me a beautiful bun on the top of my head, leaving the second half of my hair down. I inspect myself in the mirror, never feeling this beautiful in my life. I turn to La Toya and sign "Thank you", hoping that if she doesn't understand my hands, she can understand the look in my eyes.

I walk out into the hallways, now hustling and bustling as it gets closer to show time. I was given the set list and lyric sheet for the night while I was made over. I run the entire show at least 5 times before being called to take my place, the instructional prologue getting ready to play.

By the end of the show, my wrists and fingers ached from the fast movements to stay on pace with the band. Walking backstage, I just want to take my makeup off and stretch out my aching joints. Michael stops me in the hall and asks me, "Hey, you want to fly with us? I'd love to get to know you more, plus give you the set list for the next show to let you practice." I nod, wanting to answer his questions. He lights up. "Maybe, you can teach me some sign language? Don't get me wrong, I love writing back and forth, but it'd be cool to sign to each other" He leads me to the limo that is taking him to the hotel and then the airport in the morning. "I'm not sure where your room is, but I can have your stuff sent to mine and we can talk some. If you'd like." I shrug my shoulders, I didn't know either. He makes a quick phone call and I watch the lights move past. "Hey, Y/N, you were really cool there. It was like you were singing and dancing with your hands at the same time. Why don't you talk? If you don't mind me asking. You don't have to answer." I hold out my hand for the notebook and try my best to write on the bumpy road. "Long story. I'll tell you at the hotel, roads too rough to write it out on the way." He reads my writing and nods in understanding. "I get it." We fall into a comfortable silence as we drive to his hotel.

I follow Michael through the lobby, up the elevators and to his suite. My bags are placed in the main room, and Michael stretches his arms above his head. "Hey, Y/N, I'm going to go take a shower. If your story really is as long as you're saying, go ahead and start writing it down. I can read it while you shower." I nod and he hands me a legal pad, much better than the little hand notebook Michael carried around at all times. I sit down and start writing.

"I've been mute since I was 6 years old. My dad and I were going to the record store to listen to some and take others home to add to our collection. The light turned green, and we went, but someone else swerved into our lane, causing a head on collision. My dad died on impact, but they said he didn't feel any pain. Pieces of glass got caught in and cut my throat. I woke up in the hospital with no vocal chords, no voice. The damage done was too much for them to take and they had to be removed. I don't want your pity, I've gotten nothing but pity since I was 6. I'm not fragile and you do not need to treat me as such." I put the pen down just as Michael finished up in the bathroom. I gestured to the pad, and grabbed clothes for the shower. When I came out Michael was just staring at the paper, some areas warped with his spilled tears. He looked up at me with glossy eyes and enveloped me in his arms. "Oh, Y/N, I am so sorry. We don't have to talk about it or anything. We can just go to bed right now if you want." I shake my head. I break away reluctantly and go back to the paper. "No, it's ok. If you have any questions I will do my best to answer them." He thinks for a moment and asks, "Can you make any sounds? If you don't have vocal chords, how can you be vocal?" I hum a little tune, and make a couple of noises. We sit down, and he asks me to teach him to sign. We start with finger spelling.

"What's your favorite candy?" "(F-A-V-O-R-I-T-E C-A-N-D-Y)" "Wow! I love those! I like S-K-I-T-T-L-E-S. Oh! And P-E-A-N-U-T M-N-M-S!" I smile at him. He's a really fast learner. I yawn and glance at the clock. I sign "time" and point at the clock. He follows my finger and reads the time. "Oh wow, 1:30. We should probably get to bed. I'll take the couch and see you in the morning." I reach for the pen to protest but he snatches it before I can lay a finger on it. "No Ifs ands or buts. I'm taking the couch." I roll my eyes, signing "Silly boy" and making my way to the bed. I fall into a blissful sleep easily.

The next morning Michael and I are on our way to the plane, the next stop being Irving. We sit across from each other, Michael signing what he can, and writing what he can't. I teach him little words and phrases as we go, and specific ones at his request. Sooner than expected we touch down and make our way to the venue. The entire tour goes by in a flash, performing every night with the boys, only watching from the wings our eight shows in Canada. On our last night in LA and my last night on the job, Michael drops a bomb on everyone around the world. That this was the last show for the tour. I translated what he said for the audience, a look of complete confusion on my face. I struggled to focus on the task at hand, translating for those Deaf at the show, unable to comprehend what had just happened. The show had ended finally and it was chaos backstage. People yelling at Mike for his cancellation, calling it selfish, immature. I couldn't help but feel a little hurt. I knew that this was my last show, and that I would no longer be working with the band, but I thought he would at least tell me since I thought we were close. I pushed through the throngs of angry managers and crew members back to my little corner.

I gathered my things, coming across one of the notebooks that Michael and I had practically filled. The others full of writing were in my suitcase back at the hotel. In my heartache, I accidentally dropped the notebook, its pages falling open on impact. A page filled with shading and lines caught my attention, its place in the back making it invisible to me. Examining it closely, I realize it's an incredibly done sketch of me, done by Michael. I was asleep when he did this. I think it was on the plane to Denver. I gently closed the pages, and placed it into my bag.

I turned my gaze to the sound of the door opening, revealing none other than the artist himself. With creased eyebrows, I simply sign "Why?", not understanding why he did it a bit. He sagged, as if all the air had been let out of him. "Because, Y/N, I couldn't stand being under their thumb anymore. I couldn't work with Joseph anymore, I need to be the one in control. I want to make my own music, send my own message, without anyone telling me otherwise." I nod, understanding where he was coming from, but sad to see him go. I wiped at my tears and signed "I'll miss you Applehead." This made him chuckle and pull me in for a long, large hug. "I'll miss you too." He kissed the top of my head and took a step back. He signed "You always in my heart." something I had taught him, but fragmented. He picked up the notebook laying in the top of my bag and tore out an empty page, as well as a pen. He handed both to me. "Write down your address and I promise I will write to you practically everyday. And if I ever go on tour, I know just who I'll hire to be my interpreter." With one final tearful hug goodbye, it was time for us to go our separate ways. I would miss him, but I knew I would always be in his heart, and he in mine.

Taglist: @accio-boys​

[birlcholtz]

Fic Questions

tagged by @the-lincyclopedia thank you!! (fun game: watch my writing get progressively less formal as the post continues. by the end it’s like what is capitalization)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

77!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

434,378 as of this week but it does go up quite regularly

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Okay so in terms of what’s on my AO3, I have Check Please, All For the Game, Sharp Zero, HP, and Miraculous Ladybug. I also have The Forbidden LOTR and PJO Fanfiction (as in, I’ve written it, but it’s never seeing the light of day)

(technically there is a PJO fic out there that has seen the light of day but I orphaned it because I was tired of getting comments asking about when it would be updated)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

and then i met you (and the whole world changed)

for the better

Knew It Was You

come home (to you, to us)

sin bin schematics

All of these are Check Please and all of them except Knew It Was You are part of my Zimbits Airport AU!

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! It’s actually a very recent thing that I’ve started not responding to literally every single comment. Mainly I respond because I love talking about my writing so I am going to seize that opportunity when it comes up

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Oh, DEFINITELY Happy Birthday (HP). Check out that MCD tag ahah. (I say HP but what I really mean is that I write fic about Regulus Black. The Regulus Black-centric tag is my home in the HP fandom)

fun fact: this is a very short fic that I wrote when I was 15 and basically forgot about until recently, and then I reread it recently and went holy shit?? I pulled NO punches????

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the wildest one you’ve written?

Not a ton? I think a lot of the fandoms I write for don’t really mesh that well. That being said, the aforementioned orphaned PJO fic is actually a PJO/ML crossover, so there’s that

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nope! Sometimes I get comments that are just.... really confusing? And a more common thing is that in my AFTG fic I’ll get comments from people who are so focused on Andreil (or the most common ships in general) to the point that like. they miss the point of what I actually wrote. Those are annoying but they’re not hate, they’re very enthusiastic, they’re just... enthusiastic about a story I’m not writing? So it’s a bit frustrating.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No sjflskgjhgf I struggle enough to write kissing, I think if I ever tried to write smut my brain would just shut down. I’ve managed some fade-to-blacks (which are mostly in WIPs that haven’t been posted) but they rely HEAVILY on the powers of implication

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, although I have occasionally made a brief go of it, not to post, more as an exercise for myself in a language that I’m learning. Anyway I never finish them so I’m gonna say no

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really? I’ve definitely group brainstormed fics and then written them (the best example of this being Q&A (AFTG), which was the product of a truly off-the-walls group chat), but I tend to do all the actual writing myself. I think the way I write would drive a co-writer up the wall since it’s very disorganized and I don’t write stuff down because ~I know what’s gonna happen I don’t need notes~ and it would infuriate me if I was co-writing with me lmao, so I won’t inflict that on someone else

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I regularly move through ships I’m SUPER focused on, like it’s kind of a rotation. I will forever and always ship Percabeth though.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Okay so if you follow me at @birlwrites you may know this already, but i have this ‘warmups’ document that is just like, random ideas i get that i don’t necessarily want to finish but i just want to try out for a bit? and i have a rule that once a ‘warmup’ is more than 10 pages long (so 11+) then it has to be moved to its own document, just to make scrolling through the warmups doc easier. but usually, a warmup only passes 10 pages when i’m INTO it. so i have a bazillion wips i will probably never finish. i complain about this a lot. i have so many wips. i don’t need more.

here’s one: it’s titled ‘interrobang doesn’t know they’re dating’, it’s basically a full outline for a chowder/tango fic and it would be SO cool if i could ever like. get around to writing it. but i am constantly swamped with writing projects, so it’s probably not gonna happen. if anyone’s interested in adopting it though i’d be down for that!! i think it’s a fun idea i just almost def won’t write it myself

15. What are your writing strengths?

SNAPPY DIALOGUE AND SNARKY INTERNAL MONOLOGUE. my writing is COMEDIC, 90% of my ideas are based on a funny snippet that popped into my head, a lot of my worldbuilding is based on ‘hey you know what would be hilarious’ (whenever i explain how larai selects a chosen one in the rainfall universe i start laughing, which is a STARK contrast to how it plays out on the page), i love writing funny stuff!!

also i think my writing sounds nice, a lot of the time i pick words/syntax based on sound and flow so there’s that too. and i have lots of ideas! i don’t struggle much with writer’s block because a) i have a lot of strategies to deal with it and b) i have a lot of ideas to help get around it/work with it

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

PHYSICAL INTIMACY LMAO, sometimes in my end notes on shippy fics you can see me complaining ‘it took me literally 4 hours to write that very brief kiss’. also sometimes the humor in my writing gets in the way a bit, i have to very consciously put it away so characters can actually have serious, genuine emotions. also i don’t like outlining and i tend not to get betas for fanfiction so like..... i do my best continuity-wise but having really tightly plotted stories is just not my focus lol. (and i do put more effort into that for original stuff, it’s just fic where i kind of go wild)

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

If the reader’s supposed to know what it means, then writing it in another language is iffy for me. (stuff like terms of endearment which come up a lot in fic are fine imo, you can just put a note in to translate them and your reader will prob remember)

If the pov character isn’t supposed to understand it, and it doesn’t matter if the reader understands it, then ig it’s fine? but unless you already speak the other language (and i am NOT confident in my ability to translate english into literally any other language), then i think it’s way easier to just note that a character’s speaking x language and provide tone indicators, body language cues, etc. so the reader understands as much as the pov character.

That being said there are def times when it’s used super effectively--the dialogue in spanish in cemetery boys comes to mind! that’s not fanfic but it’s still creative writing so w/e

so i guess it comes down to: does actually writing out the dialogue in the other language serve a purpose? if it doesn’t, then you’re filling up the screen with words your reader isn’t likely to understand, which i try to avoid doing

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

so the first fandom i actually *wrote* for was PJO, but i distinctly remember creating warrior cats OCs when i was little. i never actually did anything w them but i had them and my favorite was a riverclan warrior named shellstream i remember this VIVIDLY

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

oh boy. okay so this is hard because i feel like i’m continuously improving as a writer. like in the sense that my writing is getting closer and closer to really matching my own taste? my favorites tend to always be my current projects as a result. and i do really love set those ghosts alight (HP) but it feels a little like cheating to say a fic i haven’t even finished writing yet. even though it’s def not cheating, that’s just the direction my brain is taking it.

i’m gonna say and then what? (OMGCP) because i’m super proud of the prose (especially ch 2 aka the first actual prose chapter), survived by (HP) for SUCCESSFULLY WRITING AN EMOTION and making readers cry :), and Q&A (AFTG) because i’m literally the one who wrote it and yet it still makes me wheeze. those are all fics i reread occasionally, because i’m big enough to admit i enjoy rereading my old stuff! (just like. to a point. some of my old stuff i can’t look at anymore because all the mistakes stick out to me like they have spotlights shining directly on them)

this was fun!! i’m gonna do an open tag because i just started my fall semester and brain tired. i know sometimes people see open tags and assume the op didn’t really mean it but I MEAN IT, PLEASE DO THIS AND TAG ME!!!!! YES YOU READING THIS

[humanmosquito]

this is definitely gonna be a ramble-y post but i’ll neaten it when i’m done. (edit:  didn’t really but I’m sick of this sitting here already)

I’ve put this under a cut for obvious reasons. There’s more things I didn’t like about this book but I forgot most of the plot immediately after reading it.

Given the usual time skips in Clare’s work you’d think this would be 6 months down the line and Livvy would have been completely forgotten about and is mentioned sporadically to motivate the main characters. 

I’m not really buying the shock of Livvy’s sudden death i would say Clare’s done a job here and she’s certainly tried, but i’m not buying it.

Her treatment of Gay Characters (capitalisation necessary) is bad but so much worse with Alec than any others and i hate reading about her Alec bc of the way she infantilises him. Also has Clare seriously not found any way to solve problems in her own fictional universe without constantly reintroducing the same guy??? (who is also just a bunch of stereotypes of queer men) (Magnus)

you don’t need to use two separate images to describe people moving in the background, it’s fine.

why is Christina using Spanish pet names when we’ve never seen her using Spanish conversationally before? also, ( and this is a very specific thing to to be so worked up about like 4 years after i read it the first time) but why do whatshisname and Christina have to talk in English instead of implying the conversation was in Spanish but had been translated or even mention it at all? (okay, coming back in later to say that she does use Spanish randomly in this book, Clare has a habit of making Latine characters use Spanish randomly to show they’re Latine.

isn’t Mark 20 or something? I’m legitimately confused about these lines.

there’s no need to suddenly start using fancier language for two whole sentences. also you can just say she visited a wax museum or even Just Madame Tussaud’s (which i’m guessing is the place we’re talking about). also: why is all the dialogue in this book so stiff and overly formal? I know they’re in shock and some of them are functionally strangers but it’s still so off from how people normally speak. (I’m willing to excuse the faerie characters because everyone who writes faeries makes them speak super flowery but that’s it)

there’s no break between Mark and Helen’s POV.

 I’m pretty sure than Simon is secular, why is he suddenly sprouting hebrew? (CC makes no effort to show him engaging with judaism in any form and has him Christmas shopping at one point in tmi)

wouldn’t that make it much easier to break in? (this is needlessly pedantic, I know)

A lot of people said that Emma just becomes a way to talk about how amazing Julian is and I’m beginning to see that. She focuses on the sound he makes walking along a hallway way too much. (Also: coming back a week later to add that Julian just gets worse and worse and for a character that we’re supposed to love(?), he has absolutely no redeeming qualities.)

Doesn’t witchlight only light up when a shadowhunter is holding it? I remember that from TID.

The rally with Dearborn feels like an attempt at the bit at the beginning of 1984 where they’re watching the propaganda video and the woman is crying out for big brother. also, there’s no way to write people chanting someone’s name that doesn’t make it feel like mediocre fanfiction, huh? The whole scene is very over the top and not at all like the actual process of radicalisation. 

who thinks like this? Who thinks about themself like this?

The descriptions of the shadowhunters at the funeral are weird. Emma is described as putting on gear then wearing a dress, Christina has a gear jacket over a dress and Ty is in full gear.

she’s not even being subtle about stealing plot points from the tv show, is she?

why does she keep choosing random words to translate into Spanish? It isn’t necessary unless the word also means a specfic type of that word. A vela isn’t a specific type of candle, that’s just the Spanish word for candle. 

Doesn’t Jonathon Shadowhunter creating runes go against tsc canon? No one could make new runes except Clary because of her extra angel blood. (I should know, I read the fucking Shadowhunter codex). (there are more instances of CC creating thing that go against canon but i kinda got bored of making this list after here)

(I know the answer to this one is just CC’s incest fetish but) Why did everybody just let Christina get engaged to her cousin?

I have to say that my suspension of disbelief lasted longer than I thought it would but it ends with Julian killing a Rider with a D&D figurine.

The whole Thule bit feels like it was copy-pasted from ao3 (While we’re on the subject of copied from ao3 “Ragnor Fell lives” is such a “saw it on Tumblr” cop out)

how did the cohort get Jaime? It’s not explained and I wish it was.

Julian sucks. capital-S Sucks. For the guy Emma is facing Losing her Shadowhunter life for and going into exile for, he’s a dick, with emotions he comes off as creepy, over-sexed and obsessed. Without he’s somehow even worse.

Zara calling Cl*ce disgusting and being called wrong for it is such an obvious dig at the people who criticised Clare when she wrote them nearly fucking in a ditch when they thought they were bio siblings. (I’m p sure they’re also adopted siblings and they consider the same man their dad, so it would still be incest.) 

Also, she’s so one-dimensional and every scene with her, especially in the last 1/2 of the book was exactly the same. (emma attacks her but decides to let her go which was a ~mistake~ with consequences (consequences being “we see Zara again”))

It's not even a subtle D*mbl*dore's Army rip-off, huh?

I take back all the things I thought about Clare improving as a writer, chapter 33 makes literally no sense, also cannot do dialogue or consistent characterisation. (how did any of these get published, TMI especially)

Once again, Clare seems to be stealing plot points from the TV show. (Of course there’s going to be some overlap between the show and books even after it diverged from book canon but it’s getting pretty ridiculous at this point, isn’t it?). 

Okay, every woc in this book is here to further the white protagonists’ story (which i guess is the purpose of supporting characters but the white supporting characters do fuck all) And i get they have their own love interests but it was super forced (don’t @ me for this, Kierarktina had potential but it was all rushed in the second half of this book because Clare realised what a cash cow it was)

Diana gets a little tropey (Speaking as a trans person) but her treatment b Vlare and the other characters was okay. I do wish she was allowed more personality than “no one can love me or know me because I’m trans” (it’s stupid and overused) and “helps the Blackthorns and Emma”. (also Clare knows that you don’t stop taking HRT, right? it isn’t a limited course, it’s not Gender-Changing Antibiotics.)

My final thing is that it went on way too long, like, insufferably long. (you’d think long enough to explain some plot holes, but no.)

[anika-ann]

Heart Too Cold, but Friends of Gold - Pt.10

Alone Is What I Have

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 2200

Summary: Avenger!reader AU. Part 2 of Melting Hearts series. Part 1 HERE.

Snowflake is hiding. And she’s good at it. Also, reportes suck (at least in this story and chapter)

Warnings: swearing, light angst,… eh

Story Masterlist

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Alone is what I have, alone protects me. (BBC’s Sherlock Holmes) …And what more, alone protects the people I care about the most.

Prague was an interesting city. You supposed it was not too much different from other European cities, the old buildings and a breath of history on every other corner meeting the modern steel and technology of today, but there was just some kind of an aura that got to you. The system of public transportation had been a bit confusing at first, but allowed countless different ways of getting where you needed, which also meant many different escape routes – you still were a pragmatic. And you liked it here.

What you not necessarily liked, but definitely appreciated for its convenience, was the anonymity and the nature of Czech people – it took them a lot of time to warm up to someone, no matter how warm-hearted they could become once they let someone in.

In the streets of Prague, you could easily recognize Praguer from a foreigner; unlike the foreigners, the habitants of Czech capital had developed an amazing ability of looking around and not seeing. They would meet the same person for the fourth time in the past hours and they simply wouldn’t notice. They were having their eyes for nothing; it always reminded you of Matt Murdock, the blind lawyer of Hell’s Kitchen who was the exact opposite.

Matt, despite not being able to use his eyes anymore, saw more than anyone. You had thought of contacting him many times, just to have some familiarity in your new world where friendship or any kind of a relationship was a luxury you couldn’t afford, but you always backed out. You were too scared of him getting in touch with the Avengers’ team. Not to mention his lawyer persona seemed busy enough even without your load of crap – you had looked him up few times, rather rarely and always within walking distance from the faculty of law of Charles University of Prague, so you wouldn’t raise suspicion about yourself. After all, a random person connected to public wi-fi taking interest in a very specific lawyer of Hell’s Kitchen could be much of a hint; if the random person was a law student though… you thought it was relatively safe.

So you only had acquaintances, people you met from time to time, but never for their friendship – they were more of business partners, really. You headed to a meeting to a café which one of ‘your’ people, Eva, frequented rather often and liked to hang out in.

You found a boot in the back. You pulled out your laptop and started it, automatically checking on your surrounding once more; it was a terrible and necessary habit of a person who was on the run. Since you were almost 15 minutes early, you decided to catch up with the world (read the Avengers) on free wi-fi.

The apartment you lived in had no internet connection and once again, you needed the anonymity; if people connecting in a café checked the news site and paid a lot of attention to news of New York City and the Avengers, no one could question it – and it wouldn’t pop out at Tony’s radar, because no one could tell the search was coming from one particular person repeatedly.  

When you opened the news site, your heart stopped. Your breath froze on your lips, your throat getting impossibly tight, your vision immediately blurring. You squinted at the screen so you could re-read the headline.  

‘Did our Captain die for nothing?’

You could feel the optical mouse crying under your palm as the frost covered it, but you couldn’t make yourself to care.

Your eyes were roaming around the article, desperately finding a prove of you being wrong.

Luckily, you were.

Seventy years ago, Steven Grant Rogers, a man we know as Captain America, laid down his life to save countless others. The serum-powered soldier’s mission was to take down HYDRA, Nazi’s science division, and all history books claim that he and his Howling Commandos achieved that. Yet, the events of past days are telling us a different story. Captain America and other S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives were fighting the very same organization everyone believed to be defeated. While in reality, HYDRA had been growing in their own rows.

The reporter went on, uncovering an enormous intel leak from S.H.I.E.L.D. following the discovery of HYDRA moles inside of the government agency, but there was no other word on Steve. You choose to believe he was alive – because they would sure as hell ‘mention’ if he wasn’t –, finally allowing yourself to breathe in.

You decided you hated reporters and their shocking headlines that were supposed to bait more readers. You almost had a fucking heart-attack.

Now, you had to believe Steve was alright. In addition, you learned he had found a new ally known as Falcon – a man with advanced technology in a form of fucking wings. Also, Natasha had been by his side.

Reading into details of the article – and multiple others – you were stressing over your parents again. Fury had told you there was no record of their current position in S.H.I.E.L.D. files, something he had taken care of when finding out there had been the leak about your identity in the first place. In theory, they should be safe – but all you had was hope.

There was a tiny voice in the back of your head, luring you back to US, back to the Avengers, back to Steve. Once again, the theory was he should be safer now – you believed now that Michaels was part of HYDRA, the organization he had been talking about to scare you off being nothing else but the group finding its origins in the thirties – yet, you were too scared to take that risk. If HYDRA had handled to infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D. and figure out your identity, where was the insurance of some other terrorist group not being able to do the same? As convenient as it would be, Michaels hadn’t had to be part of HYDRA at all.

You couldn’t go back.

Not to mention you didn’t believe your family of choice would want you back and you didn’t think you could handle the rejection. Your heart ached at the image of Steve’s cold eyes, pushing you away. You dreamed of it sometimes, of you returning and him greeting you flatly, advising you to come back where you had come from; sometimes, he welcomed you with the warmest smile and ‘I missed you so much’ on his lips before letting them get familiar with yours again.

But in the cold reality, you knew your return was way too risky – for Steve and for your heart as well.

You focused on the lines in front of you, letting each of them get carved into your brain. You learned about Steve being in a hospital, fortunately with his life no longer hanging on a thread. You learned that S.H.I.E.LD. stopped existing, leaving a whole lot of uncovered secrets behind, including the last possible trace of you in Provence – you had left the area months ago after you couldn’t resist and had saved a little girl from getting hit by a car, sadly in a way that draw too many prying eyes. You had had to change the settings of your mask and run after that stunt.

That was how you had found yourself in Prague, building a completely new life once again. You were an English teacher now, a private one, individuals or little groups seeking you out for improving their conversation skills. It was ridiculous how much money people were willing to pay for it – luckily for you. It meant a very flexible schedule and not necessarily meeting the same people regularly, which was relatively safe.

“Brigit!” a voice called out and you jumped in your seat, realizing the woman was addressing you. Damn the fake names!

You looked up with a hasty smile, meeting Eva’s amused expression.

“Spaced a little, aren’t you?”

“Spaced out,” you corrected her automatically and she gave you a look that told you she was hundred percent done with you. You grinned in return. “Sorry. Just… interesting article. Let’s order some caffeine before we start?”

“Yes, please. I was working on my thesis for like… well, very long. I barely slept. I need caffeine.”

Your smile turned sympathetic. Late nights you knew too well despite never being a college student. Eva was majoring in biology on top of that, trying to improve her English so she could apply for her dream job, so you couldn’t even imagine the pain.

“You know what? I’m paying today.”

The woman honestly looked as if she wanted to kiss you on spot. Which was kinda ironic, considering how much money she paid you and how little the coffee cost in comparison, but you weren’t about to mention that.

“I’m choosing the most expensive one.”

“I’m sure you are.”

────── ·❆· ──────  

Life went on. Days seemed too long, so you had been adding new students to your flock to keep yourself busy with no time for gloomy thoughts. But the truth was, you were just terribly lonely.

You missed your parents.

You missed your team.

You missed Steve.

And as crazy as it sounded, you missed the insane world of avenging, because the people whose absence was killing you had been a part of that world. Not even starting on the rewarding feeling that would come when managing to save a life.

It was one of those days when you were drowning in loneliness when you learned about yet another adventure the team had been through – maybe it was why the news of Sokovia hit you so hard.

An artificial intelligence trying to take on the world with an army of super-bots under his command and starting with… sending a part of the country literally flying in the air. It ended with that, only thanks to the Avengers and the word was that three more enhanced individuals were seen on the scene, one of them laying down his life.

Three more enhanced. Had the world gone completely crazy? And the one who had died….

The urge to come back, maybe be forgiven, maybe even not being afraid for Steve’s life with what could be new faces on the team… it was stronger than ever. Your heart ached, the homesickness squeezing your lungs and not allowing you to breathe in properly.

You left yet another café in hurry, shooting Petr, the student you were supposed to meet, a quick apology that you were feeling very sick. You apologized for the extremely short notice. He was almost too understanding, but you were grateful that you could just curl up in a ball on your bed and cry for an hour. It cost you all of your strength not to give in to the calling of your powers and start a snowstorm. It would make you weak and you would be found. You kinda wanted to be weak and found, hopefully by your friends.

You didn’t take the risk.

The next day, you woke up with new determination to pick up as many new students as you could to wear yourself down to a bone. For the two following weeks, you were desperate to search for some new faces.

With Murphy’s luck, it seemed like too many of yours no longer needed your services and no newbies popped up. It was one of the reasons why you jumped after the opportunity; when Eva mentioned she had this Russian friend who had moved to Prague very recently and seemed so excited about the lessons Eva was still attending, you immediately said yes to a meeting set in an only three days’ notice.

You should have known better.

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The woman – Inna, as you learned from Eva’s narration – came to the café with her friend; you had said it would be easier for her to be accompanied instead of Eva taking a picture of you and letting her find you on her own. The true reason behind your actions had been simple – you didn’t want anyone to have your picture, even when wearing the S.H.I.E.L.D. mask.

So Eva entered the Starbucks of your choice with a pretty blonde by her side and gave you a cheerful wave as she spotted you by the stairs; you waited for the blonde to order, while Eva disappeared again to run some errands since she was in the centre of the town.

You guided Inna to a table in a less busy corner of the otherwise crowded room upstairs and you both set your drinks down before shaking hands.

“I’m Brigit. It’s very nice to meet you!” you tried out, previously learning from Eva that Inna’s level of English was pretty good.

The woman, who had seemed rather nervous before, relaxed as she accepted your hand, her shoulders losing the tension in them.

“The pleasure is all mine. I heard a lot about you.”

You were almost taken aback by her voice, heavy with eastern accent; despite the fact you knew where she came from, you expected the accent being less thick. But maybe you were just oversensitive.

“Really? Good things I hope?”

The blonde laughed shortly, her face getting younger. It was easier to see how she and Eva could be friends now. “Oh yes, Eva wouldn’t shut up about you! Shall we start?”

“Sure,” you agreed, gesturing towards the chair. “Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself and then what would you like our sessions to look like?”

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Part 11

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Tags: @mermaidxatxheart​, @murdermornings​, @elisaa-shelby​ @ask-hellbent-tweek​ @cxptain​, @kallafrench​, @smilexcaptainx​ @scentedsongrebel​, @orions-nebula​

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*Very discreetly shoves Czechia into another fic and smiles innocently* I need to use my knowledge, okay? :D

Also, BBC’s Sherlock is full of amazing quotes and I feel like re-watching it when I have the time.

And I’m aware this was a bit of a filler chapter. I’m preparing the ground for the next one, which hopefully will be more eventful ;) (I wonder who that new student might be :D )

[jasontoddiefor]

Summary: In which I fulfill every college student’s dream and make Bruce Wayne my Glucose Father.

AN: Self-insert challenge done with @theauthor97 . Requirements: minimum 500 words and the SI must be good friends at least with the canon character.

It started when he was twenty-one, broke, and having a minor break down about his student debt in a small café near the Gotham U campus. Elias had failed one of his summer classes, which theoretically speaking didn’t have much influence on his further studies, he could just pick it up again next semester, but he’d moved out of his family home because of not so accepting family members, his cat had died and he was just having a bad body image day all around.

So, crying in a café it was.

Most of the other visitors had started looking very uncomfortable about his outbreak, not that Elias noticed, but eventually he was pulled out of his misery by the sound of someone moving a chair away from the table and sitting down right next to him.

“Hey, is everything- can I help you?”

Elias looked up into the face of a man who, standing up, must be at least two feet taller than him, and whose right eye was looking pretty bruised.

“Not unless you’ve got like ten grant for me,” he replied and promptly started hiccupping again.

It just wasn’t fucking fair. Couldn’t his dumbass of a professor waited one more week to announce the exam grades?

“Oh.”

The man was still there when Elias looked up, now awkwardly putting his hand on his shoulder while setting a rainbow colored cake right in front of him.

“There, there.”

Elias stared at his hand, his brain trying to catch up to the fact that some random stranger was trying to make him feel better. He couldn’t help himself, he laughed. Bright and too high-pitched and a tad over the top, but it was the best he’d felt all day.

“Better?” The stranger asked.

“Better,” Elias replied. “Thank you, - uhm.”

“No problem,” the man said, falling into an awkward silence. A few moments passed, Elias still staring at the man, hoping he’d catch the verbal clue while the other most obviously did not.

“So…” He trailed off. “I’m Elias.”

The man blinked, incomprehensibility written all over his face until he finally introduced himself, though he looked almost a little delighted about the fact that he had to.

Weird.

“I’m Bruce. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

Silence again. Elias started to eat the cake Bruce had brought him because there was nothing else to do to cover up the awkward tension.

Bruce didn’t really look like he knew what he was supposed to do either, but it wasn’t like Elias couldn’t relate. Conversations just sucked. You never knew what to say, especially to a random person who you just met.

“Mr. Elias, may I request something of you?”

Weird way of speaking, but his best friend had spoken Early Middle English for two weeks just to annoy a professor.

“Sure. I owe you one after that, don’t I?”

Bruce shook his head. “You don’t owe me anything. I just did what every good citizen would do.”

The café had gone surprisingly silent, Elias only now noticed. Everybody seemed to be staring at them. Usually, he always imagined everybody’s eyes lingering on him, but right now he wasn’t so sure this was fake.

“Either way, shoot. How can I help you.”

“I need a date for the gala tonight due to some unfortunate circumstances, and I was wondering whether you had the time to spare. I just need a distraction for a short while, two hours max. I’ll pick you up, pay for a suit too of course, and bring you back home.”

Bruce frowned and appeared lost in thought for a short while. “Or maybe my butler will drive you home. I’m willing to accommodate for the stress I cause you. Would 2.000 dollars be enough.”

Elias stared at Bruce, who looked unreasonably calm and not crazy. Oh, gosh, was this a new villain? Was that the reason everyone was staring at them? Ever since that Bat-guy had shown up last year, Gotham’s criminals had apparently started to stick to aesthetics. Elias wasn’t particularly good at remembering faces, hell, he couldn’t even keep up with the local rich people.

“Or 4.000? I’ve never done this before, I’m not sure how much money is appropriate.”

“Appropriate for what?” Elias managed to stammer out. This was not how he had expected his day to go. Maybe he should have just stayed in bed.

“Going with me to the Wayne Charity Gala tonight. Alfred said I should get a proper date since I can’t take Dick because he’s having a sleep-over, but properly asking someone out is just a waste of time and recourses when I can hire someone to be my distraction. We enter the party, smile for the camera and when I say an agreed-upon code word, you pretend to faint so I can get out of there. How does that sound that to you?”

Wayne Charity Gala. A Butler. A kid named Dick of all things.

Holy fuck.

“You’re Bruce Wayne.”

And Bruce A Capital B Billionaire Wayne nodded seriously. “Yes. And I’m asking you to be my date tonight.”

“For money.”

“Yes.”

“And I only need to what? Smile and pretend to faint.”

“Yes, you even get to enjoy the good food.”

Slowly, this offer was starting to make sense, even though it actually didn’t. Real life was a bitch and this was too good to be true.

“Smile, faint, food, and I get 4.000 bucks for it – that’s all?”

And Bruce Freaking Wayne actually looked honest to god confused. “What more could there be? I mean. You could ask Alfred to pick up ice cream on the way back. That’s what Dick does when he’s awake enough still. Not more than one scope though.”

Bruce What Is Awkwardness Wayne looked Elias over like he was examining him. “I suppose you can have more than one.”

Elias was pretty sure he’d gone made somewhere in the last five minutes, but if this was actually true – fine. Alright. 4.000 bucks for not even a whole day’s work. If he ended up kidnapped by Bruce Weird Rich Man Wayne it was his own fault.

“Okay,” Elias agreed. “Alright. Sure. Sign me the fuck up. What do I gotta do?”

This was how it ended: They kept the act up for a rather long time. It was an enjoyable arrangement in which Elias could pay his debts and then afford to stop living on instant noodles while Bruce had someone as his date whenever he needed one. And if somewhere down the line Elias gets hired as an English tutor for Batman’s ever-growing army of Robins and Batgirls (“I’m not stupid, Bruce. I’ve got a PhD and you literally carry your fucking Batarangs everywhere.”), well, then that was just fate.

[midnightmarginalia]

Ho fuck this is long

Ok so like. I made a fucking mistake. I wrote an essay for my creative non-fiction class. We had to write a Lyric Essay. simple enough. it's whatever. I transcribed parts of my journal. it was fun. HOWEVER, I made the mistake of telling the class that I did some heavy editing to get rid of some unconventional grammar I use cuz internet, ya know? this was 3 days ago. jump to today. I wrote a 7-page essay trying to briefly explain SOME of the grammar conventions that have evolved alongside the internet. I had to explain this to a group of 40+ year-olds. so NOw I present this to you, o Tumblr. for the love of god let people read this and add to it, I spent eternally too much time on it 

So "Internet English" or "New English" is a linguistic phenomenon that centers on conveying tone and different connotative meanings through informal writing. Linguist Gretchen McCulloch actually released a book on this called Because Internet: Understanding the New Rules of Language.  Her book actually is really interesting (I highly recommend it) and covers some of what I'm going to be talking about today. In the first section, she compares the process of learning literacy to be similar to learning how to talk solely through exposure to formal writing like speeches, screenplays, audiobooks, etc. You miss all the nuances of informal speaking. Well, the same is true for written language. Before the Internet, informal writing was extremely hard to come by and even harder to study; even letters, postcards, secretive notes and the like were still written fairly formally because there were no mass text-based communication practices. Now, we have this vast intangible library of infinite knowledge and human interactions, making the necessity of informal writing more prominent. As such, internet users, especially people from my generation, have evolved a subset of written English to better express connotative meaning through the use, abuse, and misuse of capitalization, spacing, spelling, punctuation, incomplete sentences, and more. Let me show you a little of what I mean.

Capitalization

Capitalization is a common convention used to convey emphasis, although which type of emphasis that is changes based on how the capitalization is used.

Random Capitalization is meant to grab Attention and express that Something is Very Important or should be Stressed by Your Inner Voice when reading.

ALL CAPS IS MEANT TO SIGNIFY A VAST INCREASE IN VOLUME, THOUGH IT IS OFTEN INTERPRETED AS SHOUTING. THIS IS NOT ALWAYS THE CASE.

a crescENDO IS MEANT TO SPECIFY VOLUME AND/OR IMPORTance for one segment. It is often used to EXPRESS GROWING EXCITEMENT!

CaPiTaLiZiNG a RanDoM AsSoRTmEnT oF LetTerS ConVEyS SaRcAsM oR a MOcKinG TonE.

I cannot really articulate why but this, thIS, tHIS, and THIS are all different. This is called Varied Capitalization and can apply to any word, though I most often see and use it with articles.

not capitalizing anything in a sentence is an excellent way to express a monotone voice that seems very apathetic towards everything and everyone. "oh look. john and i went to the store. how exciting."

Spacing

Spacing Conventions are less common, and ultimately there is only one that I find noteworthy. Spacing out letters in a word like r e a l l y conveys that the word is significant. It takes up more space than really and thus needs to be stressed. It is also important to note that this convention is often coupled with full capitalization. There is a significant difference between "I am really hungry" and "I and r e a l l y hungry" and "I am R E A L L Y Hungry"

Spelling

Spelling, like Spacing, is less varied than some of these other conventions. The most common spelling convention you are likely to encounter is the Intentional Misspell. This is used to express one of two things; you can discern which by the context of the rest of the message. It can be used to display excitement. The misspell conveys a kind of excitement that interferes with dexterity, like how your hands shake after a jump scare: "gyus I just swa A Quiet Place  an d it s one f thr svsriest movis I've ever seen." The other emotion the Intentional Misspell can convey is much more subtle and complicated. It is the sense of false apathy. it is nit uncommun to putf a typo in everyr other werd or so to shwo yu don't realy give a fukc but yiu actually do. This is much harder to discern and your best bet on understanding this half of the convention is context clues.

Punctuation and Lack Thereof

Punctuation is, in my opinion, the best, most diverse option for conveying a specific kind of tone. There's a lot to cover here, so I will do my best to keep it brief.

A full stop is a short sentence with a period. It is meant to be read in a scolding tone. The usage of this is especially important in text message and chatroom settings because you can signify the end of a sentence by sending the message. A good rule of thumb for the tone is that the shorter the message, the more scolding the tone.

Putting. A. Period. Between. Words. Conveys. That. The. Matter. At. Hand. Must. Be. Taken. Seriously. This is simply the act of emphasizing each word with a full stop.

not having any punctuation or capitalization at all makes for a very fluid reading experience yes the sentences can get mixed up but those who read and write this way regularly can discern separate trains of thought if you've noticed the lack of capitalization you may recognize one of the earlier discussed conventions it is important to note however that the monotone voice of that convention disappears with the punctuation

Question marks now signify an upturn in the voicing of a statement rather than forcing something to be a question. now you may be asking yourself "why would they do this." The only answer I have for you is "it just seems right?" the upturn signifies a tentative statement while the flat delivery of the question signifies frustration or bafflement.

Punctuation Frequency is meant to signify the amount of severity accompanying the statement. This is exclusively used with question marks and exclamation marks. A common example is extending the simple “what?” to “what???????” Notice the difference? The same thing can be done with exclamation points. Note the increased excitement between “The baby was born today!” and “The babe was born today!!!!!!!!!!!” These, of course, can be amplified even further by incorporating some of the other conventions we’ve discussed previously.

Exclusive Punctuation is a convention most commonly found in messaging systems, but it is still important. “???” is an expression of pure confusion. If you were to receive this message, that whatever you sent the person prior has left them amazed, confused, flabbergasted, awe-struck, bewildered, and more. On the other hand “!!!” is an expression of pure excitement and glee. The best description I’ve seen for this is that it is a noise of happiness.

While there are dozens more grammatical conventions, these are the primary ones that a vast majority of people will use. It is time to move on.

Ellipses

Yes. This is punctuation. But it elicits its own category. Ellipses are great tools for signifying that there is more to this statement than meets the eye. However, there are now multiple types of ellipses that have different meanings.

Periodic Ellipses or Hard Ellipses are just that. Hard. Say I were to text someone “Hey can we talk after class...” The ellipsis generates a cold tone that has some worrying connotations. Something important to note here is that the length of the ellipsis can signify severity, though after a certain point it becomes superfluous and silly. The only friendly usage of a Hard Ellipsis is the Two-Dot Ellipsis. “Hey can we talk after class..” is far far less sinister than “Hey can we talk after class…”

Commatic Ellipses or Soft Ellipses are just that. Soft. Instead of being composed of periods, these ellipses are composed of commas and have a vastly different meaning. These are meant to convey either worrying or flirtatious tones. To go back to our previous example, “Hey can we talk after class,,,,,” is going to be read in a flirtatious manner. However, “Hey can we talk after class,” is going to be read worryingly.  The trick to discerning the different tones is the length of the ellipsis. Three commas or less conveys a worrisome tone, whereas five or more conveys a flirtatious tone.

Sentence Structure

Look! We’re almost done! There are many people who will play with sentence structure to convey meaning but the most widespread practice is the Incomplete Sentence. This one is actually fairly straightforward. Leaving a sentence incomplete expresses exhaustion (either emotional or physical) and adds a sense of trailing off in the speakers voice. I mean, have you ever started a sentence and then just

Noun/Verb Dichotomy

Ok last one. This one is also pretty straight forward, though still quite complex. The Noun/Verb Dichotomy is simple the act of using a noun in place of a verb to get your point across. For example, a more expressive (and in my opinion more accurate) way to say “I like to get a midnight snack at 2 in the morning” would be “I like to velociraptor around my house at 2 in the morning.” The second conjures such a specific image that it can more concisely convey the actions and emotions being done. The possibilities are endless. This opens up the door for someone to sentence how they want. Although many people will get a headache and want to clothesline into a wall. These all make sense to a native speaker of this kind of english because, while our brains do brain logically, english doesnt logic englishly so the brain brains by itself to logic the english!

So that is my mini-lesson on Internet English. please remember I haven't even begun to scratch the surface of what’s changed.

[luffyasksandanswers]

// “hi, I’m not from the US” ask set ALL OF THEM YOU COWARD. ALL OF THEM. YOU REBLOGGED THAT MEME NOW COMMIT. GIVE ME MY STALKER KNOWLEDGE. GIMME. OR MEET ME IN THE PIT.

“hi, i’m not from the us” meme - @fearllacy //Bruh, you curious George xD! But dare is a dare and me not want to the coconut pit D: so here we go!

1. favourite place in your country?

Summer cottage, a place to escape the hectic city life *thumbs up*

2. do you prefer spending your holidays in your country or travel abroad?

Toss me with a shoe because of my unecological thinking but I do like to see new places and cultures  so whenever there is a chance, I try to travel abroad. 

3. does your country have access to sea?

We are the land of thousand lakes buuut we also have sea around us, a lot in the south! so we can escape to Estonia xD 

4. favourite dish specific for your country?

Praised Karelian Pasty and Kalakukko here! otherwise our food is pretty much either stolen from Sweden or colorless/tasteless xD 

5. favourite song in your native language?

Me revealed some of them hier :>

6. most hated song in your native language?

Spent the yesterday browsing around Youtube xD and results are täällä

7. three words from your native language that you like the most?

Wow, this is a thing I’ve never thought about it so this should be something to be asked from my mates because they know better which words I repeat nonstop *laughs*  Hey, how about teaching you fellow buddies a few Finnish words?

- Juoksentelisinkohan?  (=I wonder if I should run around aimlessly?)Never heard anyone say this but I think it’s very amusing word in general xD 

- Lohikäärme = dragon Simply put so but if you write “lohi” and “käärme” separated, you get salmon and snake. In other words the translation could also be salmonsnake,kinda makes sense, kinda doesn’t *laughs*

- Pöpelikkö

= ThicketRarely used word for a forest/growth that is hard to walk through, maybe in spoken language means more like “in middle of nowhere” or at least that’s how I use that word ::D  

Bonus: lentokonesuihkuturbiinimoottoriapumekaanikkoaliupseerioppilasThe longest officially approved finnish word monster. In english it would beAeroplaneshowerturbinemotorhelpmechanicnoncommissionedofficerstudent. 

8. do you get confused with other nationalities? if so, which ones and by whom?

I probably told this before but I’m not a bloodline finn, my biological roots are in China (but I’ve spent practically my whole life here so my soul is very suomi perkele saunaan ja torille xD). As imaginable, this causes awkward situations because people get misunderstood or assume things right away but well whoopsies happpen as long as no one makes a number about it, it’s all ok ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

9. which of your neighbouring countries would you like to visit most/know best?

Revealed #lifegoals här!

10. most enjoyable swear word in your native language?

Maybe the most heard sweard word is the finnish version of F-word  [x]Frankly spoken I don’t like or use it because it’s like the C-word and dunno, sounds weird when people love to repeat loudly a word that literally means woman’s genitals :D Nah my favorite swearword is “Perkele” because when you are angry you can feel the power in the R-letter.  But I actually use “Helvetti” (=hell) the most, no idea how it happened but anyway, if it’s not “PERRRKELE” then it’s “EI HELVETTI” *laughs* last time I swear like mad was when I had to assemble a furniture at work xD

11. favourite native writer/poet?

Tove Jansson adoration here :>

12. what do you think about English translations 

I have to admit I’m not familiar with translated literacy D: wait no I lied! I’ve read 2 Moomin books in english but don’t remember paying attention to the translation, only thing that was confusing first was the names in english because there wasn’t any expalanations to the names of the (random) side characters xD

13. does your country (or family) have any specific superstitions or traditions that might seem strange to outsiders?

We finns love icy waters but we have another tradition that is a dank meme. I mean TORILLE!! which basically means finns rush to the local market places if we win hockey championships or are good in any other sports. I think it’s a global jokebut yeah finns are trash for getting national recognision. Just mention us anywhere outside the borders and transmit that info to Finland and you can hear and see people hyping it like mad and I am not sure if other countries do this too in such extreme ways xD  

14. do you enjoy your country’s cinema and/or TV?

One thing that makes watching the finnish tv boring is that they literallt recycle the celebrities which means same faces in almost every fame teledrama or shows and practically everywhere you go or channel surf, you’ll see them and then even tabloids need to write nonstop about their slighest moves.  It is good to be ecological but if there is an actor that needs to shove their face everywhere no matter what and they try to keep their fame in every way, it just doesn’t work plus this might be stereotyping but in those “finnish versions” of big shows, finns are somewhat stiff and don’t go like “yeehaw WOHOO \o/” the same way like in the original shows  so it sometimes looks like they try too hard to be like the original or they are just “forced” to be superhyper. 

Another reason I don’t watch much finnish series is that the articulating is bad or then there is something wrong with the audio or it’s just my bad hearing but the actors tend to speak very very quietly so you have to put volume on if you want to hear anything on the telly and then your ears get rekt and wasted because when the commercials (which are louder than the normal speech) comes, the sound is even louder [x] just like when you open your computer and forgot the volume is at maximum and whe Windows start music suddenly appears. 

I bet there are good finnish movies too that are high quality and I personally enjoy the game shows (quiz like thingies) but in general, nah :p 15. a saying, joke, or hermetic meme that only people from your country will get?

Another thing outsiders maybe don’t understand but finns love to queue and freebies and an ultimate example is that usually if a new shop opens up, people can start to queue a long before the grand opening. Funniest thing is that free buckets are the most queued thing and why not because they are useful xD

16. which stereotype about your country you hate the most and which one you somewhat agree with?

Maybe my favorite finnish stereotype is that finns love personal space [x] It is a national joke that if there is a bus stop, finns don’t stand next to each other (well in the capital and big cities maybe) but they have at least 2 meters distance xD 

17. are you interested in your country’s history?

Frankly spoken nah, I mean I liked to hear my grandparents’ stories about the life when they were younger and how my both grandfathers had to see the wars but in general nah, because well we’ve been owned by Swedes and Russians and had a civil war.  

18. do you speak with a dialect of your native language?

I’m originally from the Eastern Finland that has its dialect  and people distinguish it easily. Especially now that I’ve lived outside my hometown during studies and work, people tell that they hear strong dialect although I only use it in the person pronouns *eyes emoji*

19. do you like your country’s flag and/or emblem? what about the national anthem?

Blue is a nice color so thumbs up for that! Well can’t say I’m a fanatic finn but of course it sounds nice to hear the anthem on telly [x]

20. which sport is The Sport in your country?

Hockey is probably where Finland is the most successful but we also like football (duh, everyone likes) but we suck at that so bye FIFA dreams xD you know about that Phil because I ranted about it last summer XD

21. if you could send two things from your country into space, what would they be?

SALMIAKKI and that free bucket *laughs* 

22. what makes you proud about your country? what makes you ashamed?

There are many things very well in Finland, like everyone gets a free basic education and natural disasters such as earthquakes are very rare so it’s quite safe. 

What am I ashamed of? Well frankly spoken we are way too soft on criminals in my opinion so our country should fix the law system so that the criminals would get rougher and longer punishments for rough crimes. 

23. which alcoholic beverage is the favoured one in your country?

I think beers, wines and long drinks are in now? 

24. what other nation is joked about most often in your country?

Sweden! It’s a common joke that we are so jealous of Swedes being better people and succeeding in everything and of course in our jokes swedes are the dummies. I think Scandinavian countries do that about each other like Finland vs Sweden, Iceland vs Denmark and Sweden vs Norway *laughs*

25. would you like to come from another place, be born in another country?

But I am born in another country xD Nah no, I wouldn’t change a thingblue eyes would be cool but finns tend to burn in the sun and I enjoy the summer I’m happy like this :p 26. does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? what do you think about the portrayal?

The latest news about Finland in American media must’ve been that when Trump misunderstood the forest defense thing and said something like Finns are so diligent they rake their forest floors [x] but the truth is that we don’t because our climate is different. Of course we have forest fires too but they are much much smaller than in California. 

27. favourite national celebrity?

I fangirled Antti holma here, he handsome, he funny, he has a podcast  :> 

28. does your country have a lot of lakes, mountains, rivers? do you have favourites?I think a couple of mountains exsist [x] but more rivers and thousands of lakes! I like the lakes, since I’ve spent most of my summers at our summer cottage near the lake. Actually never been in the north but I’d love to go on a roadtrip someday to see them!

29. does your region/city have a beef with another place in your country?

We beat Sweden and Russia so no one shall mess with our smol country! :p

Fun fact: There is a guy named Simo Häyhä, a sniper who is said to be killed more than 505 men during the 1939–40 Winter War [x]

30. do you have people of different nationalities in your family?

We have a multicultural family tree, relatives from France, Germany, Sweden, Japan and so on :)! 

[marumafan]

Yuuram in Novel 15

So, I made a promise to write one of these per day until next week. So here’s the end to the Seisakoku arc. It’s so nice to re-read it and find little things I never paid too much attention to before. I always include things I find interesting even if they’re not yuuram. Anyways, enjoy: Yuuram in Novel : 1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10|11|12|13|14|15|16|17 

——————————————————————  Novel 15. ch.1 - So he uses majutsu anywhere but when Wolf wants to do it...-

"...If it's same as a game, then the zombie group must be weak against fire, right."

Wolfram who was standing next to me folded his knees. And soon the emerald green eyes were sparkling close to me. His fire techniques are magnificent. By controlling a fire beast effectively, he could burn down only the dead.

"Don't do it." But if I think about the nature of the locality, I couldn't let him do something unreasonable. "Why are you stopping me." "Didn't you say that magic doesn't work in the land of the Shinzoku." "But.." "Even if you have Gunter's protector, how can I let you do such a reckless thing!" "Boys! Enough of your playing around."

—————————————————————— Novel 15. ch.2 - Drunkenness and lies -

Maybe it’s just me, but it feels as though Adalbert’s powerful muscles shrivel quite a lot, looks like he’s a man who easily makes mistakes because of alcohol. Wolfram, too, uses poisonous words unbefitting of his pretty face to add salt to the wound,

“Oh dear, don’t tell me you want to say you were drunk then? That can’t be possible, people call you the Grantz boss, how could you have gotten drunk on one barrel of wine? By the way, you also said you don’t sleep while hugging baby bears anymore.”

(...)

Afterwards, according to my investigations, it seems there was never ‘a promise on the ship’. Wolf replies with a straight face, “I was just winging it.”

He even tells me, “He’s the man who betrayed Shin Makoku, and stood on the humans’ side. I really hate my uncle and Grantz, rather than giving Adalbert wine, I’d rather pour the highest quality grape wine into the river.”

To think he could tell such a lie so easily, seems like he’s matured too.

—————————————————————— Novel 15. ch.2 -Telepathically - 

“Yuuri, you still plan to…”

Wolfram tries to say something, but Lord Weller puts a hand on his shoulder, looking at him and shaking his head. As expected of brothers, they understand each other telepathically even without words.

—————————————————————— Novel 15. ch.2 -Henachoko -

“It is indeed rare for the king to appear at the frontlines himself.” “Is that so?” “Other than Shinou, I heard there are only two others who went to the frontlines of their own volition.” “Surely Yuuri will be praised by the poets in the future as a brave king, huh? Although you're actually such a henachoko.” “Henachoko… That’s right, it’s because I’m a henachoko that I can’t stand this atmosphere.” Wolfram leans back slightly and makes fun at me, since I haven't been able to think of a decent strategy until now, I don’t even have the energy to retort him.

—————————————————————— Novel 15. ch.2 -Wolfram isn't fit to do anything risky, okay!-

Murata isn’t all that heavy either, the only question is if anyone can ride a galloping horse up to him at a hair’s breadth away and then reach out to grab him.

Of course, this job can’t go to Wolfram. He’d probably lose it if I told him directly, but the position required is very challenging, and you’d need to pull up a high school student with one hand. Therefore not only would you need good riding skills, you also need powerful arm strength.

—————————————————————— Novel 15. ch.2 -Wolf gets confused by Yuuri's English words, but can understand what they're talking about?-

Wolfram was watching our conversation from a side, and finally breaks the awkward moment, “So all you need is position?” With his hands on his hips, he tilts his upper body back, his tone sounding as though he understands the English we’re speaking. “In that case, just make her our goodwill ambassador. Won’t it be fine if you make this old woman Seisakoku’s goodwill ambassador to Seisakoku right now?”  (continues below)

—————————————————————— Novel 15. ch.2 -This bit is really interesting, it starts with Yuuri feeling dejected because no one knows he's the maou and treats him like a normal person and he can't make decisions, when Wolf steps in..-

“It is indeed very hard for you, since you’re an intermediate.”

“Mn? You’re not calling me a beginner anymore?”

“Well—You’ve been on the throne for quite a while, after all.”

He blinks his eyes, as emerald as the bottom of a clear lake, and says,

“In other words, you've grown a little bit.”

“I guess there’s been a minor change. But in the time I changed from a beginner to intermediate, I still couldn’t come up with a solution to convince the people. Ah, man”

“Then, allow me to do what I can for the the king who's grown up.”

(....)

“Since your identity is false, of course your authority is electing an official isn’t recognized. Alright, turn around!”

I don’t know what he writes on the pale green slip, and he doesn’t seem to be bothered by how uneven my back is, either, writing and signing his name fluidly. I don’t care what you’re doing, but that really is very ticklish.

“Wolf, what are you writing…”

“I elect you as the Bielefeld territory’s goodwill ambassador to Seisakoku. See!”

“What?”

He waves the paper in front of my face. Having lived more than eighty years as an aristocratic heir, he seems used to homework like this, easily giving Venera a position.

“This is something we do commonly in the territory. Choose a suitable representative from amongst the people and honor them with a title in public, so that uniting the people will henceforth be his job, and he doesn’t have to come to us for some of the small stuff too.”

“Is that so~~ To think you’re so used to these things.”

“Although I’m a soldier loyal to the Maou in the capital, my job when I’m back at my territory is more like an administrator.”

“Are you learning how to be a good leader? What mature thinking—”

—————————————————————— Novel 15. ch.4 -The punch-

Wolfram walks up to me quickly, perhaps to help me out.

“No, I’m taking Ajira with me. Although I feel bad for asking him, I still need a translator. Although I think it’s not too possible, but Wolfram, um…”

“What is it?”

“Don’t you come with me now.”

Lord von Bielefeld narrows his eyes, saying in a calm voice,

“If milord just says the word, I would gladly go to the ends of the earth for you.”

He’s sounding all polite and respectful again, even though he knows very well I can’t handle him at all when he’s like this.

“Stop joking around, I’m going off to be a hostage, how could I possibly let you come along.”

“To be able to do even the slightest thing for Your Majesty, is my utmost pride and glory.”

“T-thank you for your kind intentions, but I can’t let you come with me, Lord von Bielefeld.”

I don’t know how many times I’ve come across this situation already. Once the other person treats me so sincerely, I get frustrated and impatient because I feel I need to repay in kind. In the end, I’ll either make it worse, or say a bunch of random things.

“My beloved officer’s life shouldn’t be sacrificed for me, but contributed to the country.”

“The two are one and the same.”

“It’s not like that, Wol…”

That moment just as I’m turning around to face him, a strong impact assaults my stomach, and I nearly stop breathing. My mind goes blank for about five seconds, and I’ve no idea what happened, only managing to kneel on the ground, groaning in pain. I try to take in a breath so hard, but I can’t do it.

“Wolf… What did… you do…”

“I’m sorry.”

By the time I realize that I had taken a punch from him, he’s already taken off my hooded cloak. I’m all curled up, lying on the sand, the pain making me hold my stomach, unable to breathe. It’s obviously already night time, yet my eyes are filled with a sea of red, my throat making a piercing sound, and still the air doesn’t enter my lungs.

—————————————————————— Novel 15. ch.5 -The punch’s meaning-

Maybe it’s because I’m too much of a mess, Conrad and Wolfram both reach out their hands to try and help me up, but I don’t need their kindness right now.

“Did I ask you two to do this?”

Maybe he didn’t expect me to ask so suddenly, because Wolfram seems to be frozen in shock.

“Whose idea was it?”

“Your Majesty.”

Conrad wanted to interrupt, but Wolfram gets there first, replying,

“It was mine.”

“Now you've done it!”

Before I even finish saying the words, I’ve already pulled him by the clothes on his chest. I don’t hold back at all, our faces almost colliding. His eyes look different than usual, because of the illumination from the torch.

"What's the meaning of that punch to my stomach, huh? Do you want a divorce? To remarry someone else?”

“... respect and affection”

“Liar.”

I took a punch to the stomach for nothing, and it’s been hurting ever since then all the way until now. If I don’t force myself to stand with my back straight, I’d probably be holding my stomach and crouching on the ground by now. If it weren’t for Yelshi watching from the side, I’d have done that long ago.

To be honest, I wanted to butt my head against his hard, but exerting myself now will only make the pain worse. That’s why I thought of admonishing him in public.

“I'll get you for this!”

—————————————————————— Novel 15. ch.6 -Just Wolf being awesome in battle-

(It’s that man!)

My features contort in pain, and I raise my hands to cover my ears. The truth is his thoughts don’t reach me through my hearing, so it’s pointless even if I cover my ears. His gaze goes past several rows of the resurrection group on the left, staring at that golden hair glowing a fiery red in the torchlight. But those emerald eyes, its color looking even more complex with red mixed in, are shining with a light even brighter than his hair.

Wolfram turns back deliberately, even smiling a challenge, then he slowly kicks the stomach of his horse, purposely taking off at a speed we can catch up with.

Seeing this act of his, Yelshi naturally takes the bait. From the cavalry to the foot soldiers, from the few living soldiers to the near two hundred zombies, his entire army starts chasing Wolfram.

—————————————————————— Novel 15. ch.8 -Mental image-

Wolfram and I, with two little girls grabbing our waists, walk slowly on the uneven stone steps. The salty sea breeze sure feels comfortable.

—————————————————————— Novel 15. ch.8 -Oh, come on! How cute is this!?-

“They did do something like a fortune telling before.”

The one who had his fortune told back then wasn’t me, but Wolfram. But back then not only weren’t they talking about weakening or whatnot, they even said he had a king’s aura, so surely that must have made him happy?

“Is what they say accurate?”

Hearing my question, Wolfram thinks back for about ten seconds, his arms crossed over his chest and his left leg stretched slightly ahead, a hint of a smile on the corners of his lips,

“No, it’s not accurate at all.”

“It can’t not be accurate!”

One of the twins, probably Freddy, seems really angry, and can’t help but protest.

—————————————————————— Novel 15. ch.8 -And the most yuuram arc of them all, end with ... what else? Yuuram-

Just then Wolfram waves at me, so I leave the scene without replying. I really want to throw it somewhere, but I can’t just leave it alone either. That is the sealed, ominous Box that the mazoku destroyed, and sealed. I really want to forget about it, but I think about it with every step, and it presses down on my chest every time I breathe, making me gasp for breath.

“Is your stomach okay?”

As soon as we’re out of Saralegui’s field of vision, Wolfram immediately looks apologetic, even saying,

“Sorry.”

“Oh—That? Oh, right, Wolf, that punch really hurt! Although I was at fault too in the tunnel that time, you were wrong to hit me in the stomach. That is totally DOMESTIC VIOLENCE!”

Although it’s not serious or common, Wolfram looks surprised to hear an unfamiliar term. What a bother, since I’m used to talking to Hazel, I’m starting to use a lot of Earth terms now.

“DOMESTIC… what does that mean?”

“Uhm.... like 'in the country' or a 'product of the country', something like that”

“I already told you many times, I will formally ask for my due punishment once we get back…”

“No need, it doesn’t matter if it’s official or not. Any time”

He’s about to say something formal again so I pat his back hard without hesitation, and it gives me a feeling of reality, like “Ah—right here”. I’m here, and so is Wolfram.

“Because we’re already back.”

We’re all here, Conrad, Murata… Josak too.

“I can’t say for all of it, but I brought us back with my own strength.”

“Yeah”

The sea breeze caresses Wolfram’s hair, and he nods his head firmly. Then he turns around to face me, as I was still standing on the rocky side of the port, and with an extremely natural movement, he extends his hand to me.

“Let's go home, everyone is waiting.”   —————————————————————— Ahh... what a joy of a novel!

[btsinspirationtakesme]

Don’t Leave Me

AN: Everyone knew Suga was in love with her. He just didn’t want to say it, that was- until she was going to leave. 

Y/N was nearing the end of her time at BigHit as BTS’ personal assistant. She shared her job with a noona, and they split the band between them. Y/N was in charge of Yoongi, Namjoon and Jimin’s schedule whilst noona took care of the others. 

Y/N was feeling optimistic about leaving, she was going to go to college to study English Literature after taking a year out to figure what she really wanted to do. During that time, she was mostly running after Min Yoongi who couldn’t get his but out of bed to get to interviews, or seemed to pester her with the most obscure requests. She was his PA, but his requests were the most obscure things anyone could ever come up with. The other guys weren’t like that, and it seemed that he took fun in specifically getting her to do these things. Sometimes he could be the sweetest person ever to exist for her too, which often meant he was hot or cold. His mood changed like rapid seasons around her. 

He also seemed to like teasing her, sometimes it went over board and Y/N ended up on the verge of tears not too long ago.

Flashback

“Is he cute?” Noona PA asked, as Y/N let it out that she had a date tonight set up with a mutual friend of theirs during lunch. But now, whilst the guys were getting their hair and makeup done did noona PA decide to ask her about it out of the blue. 

Y/N blushed. 

“Ah, young love! What are you going to wear? Sexy, cute, preppy, vintag-” Noona PA asked, too loudly for Y/N’s liking. It got J-Hope’s attention. 

“Y/N whose the lucky guy?!” He semi asked-yelled. 

“I feel bad, this is all happening and you didn’t tell us.” J-Hope play pouted. 

“Yah, Y/N I think you should go for cute-sexy. If it were me, I would be captured and wanting to know more. “ Namjoon offered his thoughts on how she should dress for her date. He explained it with his hands, like she was some sort of concept. 

“Namjoon, If it was you, you’d spend most of the time going on about some theory that no one knows about.” Y/N teased back. 

“Aish. Whatever, just know that guys like cute-sexy.” He said.

Y/N rolled her eyes. 

“Who has a date? Y/N?” Suga asked, in a blunt voice that bluffed up. 

Y/N never knew how to react around him. He was sometimes hot and cold. Today, it seemed like cold. 

“Suga- hyung, what’s your opinion on what Y/N should wear on her date?” Jimin asked, smirking. 

Suga contemplated his answer. He wanted to say that she should wear that baseball top with the number 3 on it, paired with her black ripped skinny jeans and nike sneakers when he would pick her up to go and get pizza. 

“Nothing really makes a difference. Plain is plain.” He said nonchalantly. 

The rest of the guys rolled their eyes or silently huffed. They knew Suga had a thing going on for Y/N. He couldn’t express his feelings, or even try and convey it to her he had some feeling in general. 

J-Hope shot him a dirty look. He signalled that what he said was uncalled for. 

Y/N on the other hand, was on the verge of tears. She had to keep it together, since she was working. She tried her best, but felt her eyes about to pour out. Stripping it back by looking up, she willed herself to stay composed. Y/N didn’t know why his words sometimes cut through to her. 

“I think we should keep our personal lives, personal. Now, Namjoon- you have an interview for 4 today.” Y/N said diverting the topic. 

Suga was an asshole to her. Later that night, when Y/N was about to file their scripts from todays interview, she was surprised to see Suga standing in the doorway. 

“Can I help yo-” She was cut off by him. 

“Who is he?” 

“I’m sorry. I’m your PA. My life isn’t that interesting or necc-” She was cut off again.

“Answer my question. “ Yoongi said, taking a step towards her. 

“Why are you wearing that?” He asked, looking at the red ensemble she was in, paired with black stillettos. She looked enthralling. Yoongi wanted to be the only one to see her legs. Not whatever frat boy she’d be going to see tonight after work.

Scrap that, Yoongi thought to himself. There was no way in hell he was letting her out of his sight, dressed like that for someone else. 

“I need you to help me tonight.” Yoongi said, about to lower himself to a last resort.

“Please, Yoongi I really want to go out tonight.” Y/N half way begged. She couldn’t stand his how petty he was being. It was clear he was trying to mess up her night off. 

“Too bad. I call my monthly negotiation today.” Yoongi said, smirking. A monthly negotiation was when he could chose one day a month where his PA could be asked to stay with him to help beyond the hours they normally worked. 

Today was that day for Yoongi. 

“UGH. I hate you.”  

Even though Y/N didn’t end up on her date, Yoongi got her to order in pizza and made her sit down with him eating. To anyone else, it looked like they were having a date night in probably. Weirdly, she enjoyed herself even though she shouldn’t considering she was on the verge of tears not too long ago. Yoongi had this weird ability to make her feel like that, something was up; but Y/N didn’t want to think about it too much. It would complicate things. 

End of flash back 

“She looks like she’s seen herself in the mirror lately.” Think of the Devil and the devil shall appear, Y/N said to herself as none other than the guy who took over her nightmares said walking past her into his dressing room chair. 

The rest of the boys just huffed, annoyed at Yoongi’s blunt rudeness whenever he was around Y/N. Namjoon just wished he’d confess his feelings already, considering he spends so much time usually just talking about how ‘weird’ she is or asking about her to the other members. 

Y/N was now a bit more use to his random requests and bluntness, although he was polite to the other PA noona. 

She rolled her eyes and went back to the chart she was looking at to organise their schedules. 

“Yah, how am I going to live without Y/N when she goes to college?” Jimin huffed. 

“Why, someone finally let her in?” Suga asked, blunt as ever again. 

Jimin ignored him and Y/N usually just rolled her eyes, but no one doubted her intelligence.

“All five accepted me, including two USA ivy leagues.” The Ivy leagues were thanks to Namjoon’s helping when he could in preparation for the tests, but still- Yoongi just tried to make her seen incompetent. 

“So you don’t think BTS are good enough for you, is that why your’re leaving?” Yoongi asked, aggressively getting up from the chair he was about to sit on. 

“Nice to know you’ll miss me.” Y/N said without looking up from her sheet of schedules. 

“Get me the lyrics I left on the desk on the third floor from the other day.” Yoongi said, trying to seem unaffected. This was an example of the weird requests he had, which Y/N had no option but to do. She tried to be sassy about it at first, but now she was close to giving up. 

“Yes, your majesty.” She said under hear breath as she tried to find where an obscure bit of paper would now be in this giant building. 

Later that week 

“That’s the last of your things? I’m going to miss you.” Noona PA said, seeing Y/N pack the last of her things from her office into a big box. 

“I’ll be back this summer, we’ll go to Han River and watch fireworks. I promise.” Y/N said, knowing she’d be back from the US this summer once she got over all her exams. 

She couldn’t help but feel emotional saying goodbye. She had also said bye to the boys apart from Suga, who didn’t even bother looking at her. She bought all of them cupcakes that she made and was met with goodbye gifts from each of them. She said they’d go far, and it would be a matter of time before she’d wake up one morning in New York hearing BTS on Capital FM. 

Jungkook and J-Hope had let some tears loose, so she broke down saying her final goodbyes with them. They had become friends without her even realising, they all spoke about how it didn’t feel like Y/N was a member of staff to them, but like a sister.

“I’ll go check if your cars ready.” Noona PA said, excusing herself from the office. 

“Oh, Suga...” Y/N heard Noona PA say as she was about to leave. Noona PA looked back and forth between Y/N and Suga, deciding it was best to leave them. Noona PA wasn’t dumb, she knew Suga probably liked her, because he picked on her like a boy would pick on a girl he liked. 

“What is this?” Suga asked, stepping closer to Y/N and pointing at her two boxes. 

Y/N figured this was his weird way of saying good bye, so she got the spare cupcake she had made for him out. 

“Here. I know you don’t like me, but I just want you to know that I wish you the best. And-”

Y/N should have expected how he would cut her off by now.

“You’re not leaving.” He said, as-a-matter-of-fact like it was obvious. 

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. 

“Okay...” She rolled her eyes, before it clicked he might pull another negotiation trick on her.

“Hey! No more negotiations, I’ve formally quit.” She warned.

“Quit?! How dare you! You can’t quit.” He yelled, which was rare. Suga’s voice going up octaves wasn’t something people usually saw or heard. Y/N nearly flinched. 

She was confused, his behaviour was ice cold at the moment.

“Aren’t BTS good enough for you? Is that why?” He took more steps towards her, closing in on her against a wall. 

“Why, Suga? Why do you care?” She asked, trying to keep composed. She wanted answers, this guy who seemed like he could spit on the ground she walked on was now looking at her like she was the focal point of his world. 

He laughed, which did something to Y/N she didn’t want to admit. 

“Aish. I can’t do this.” He said, pushing his head back and running his palm over his face. 

“Suga...” Y/N didn’t know what came over her, but she reached out to touch him. 

“Don’t go.” Suga said, in a low voice. 

“Why? You have to tell me why...” Y/N said in a quiet voice. There had to be a reason why he was acting like this.

“I like you”. He said, their bodies so close they could be one person. 

Y/N’s eyes widened. 

“What?!”  

“All this time, you treated me like absolute shit, you nearly made me, no in fact- made me cry on-” Classic Yoongi, cutting her off. This time, he took her into his arms and pressed a surprise kiss that Y/N warmed up to in seconds. 

“Shut up. I was in love with you, you idiot”. Yoongi thought out aloud in the midst of his heated kiss. Y/N had gripped his shirt and was overcome with an unexpected need to be as close to him as possible. His gentle, calm, teasing kiss made her feel light headed. 

“I’m so confused by you Min Yoongi, we need to go through what’s going on in that head of yours.” Y/N said, forcing herself to break off. She had no clue why she kissed the guy who made her cry and feel like shit for months. In repressing how she thought Yoongi was attractive, suddenly she let herself feel what she felt towards him. 

Y/N felt like she had missed so much, like how he had a lop sided grin right now, like all that hatred that was bottled up had finally deflated. 

It was like looking at a new person, or the real Min Yoongi. 

He had said he was in love with her, which Y/N couldn’t get her head around. Yet, any fool who looked at his expression now could tell he looked like someone who was in love.

“From when you walked in to that room a year ago and introduced yourself, I thought you were cute. I watched you joke around with my hyungs, and saw you thoughtful you were. I saw how you helped people when you didn’t have to, but most of all- when you spoke to me. I realised that getting you riled up had become a past time of mine, but there was more, I-”

This time, Y/N cut Suga off for once. She could tell it wasn’t easy for him to pour his heart and soul out like that.

“It’s okay. I know.” She said, trying to make him feel better. 

Little did she know, that’s what people who are in love do. 

[siodymph]

Symmrat Week Day 2

Boy howdy! his one is definitely going to be my longest submission for the week! I was a bit rushed to finish this all in time but hopefully it doesn't show too badly lol

Today's theme was an AU so i went with one i'd actually been thinking about, an Alternate Universe where everyone in Overwatch are Youtube gamers! Hope you all enjoy!

(Also RIP people on mobile, I’m sorry)

“That was an absoblutely booti- beu-… absobluty- Uhhhhggghh!”

“That was a wonderful game and I’m so happy to have experienced it. Thank you for joining me, if you wish please subscrur- errrr.”

Satya groaned as she deleted yet another recording of herself stumbling over her outro. Why was it only the ends of her videos that she got so tongue-tied? And when she did manage to get through her outro she’d rewatch it and realize she was making a weird face or her hair had been messed up. Was it too much to ask to do her English outro perfect by the fifth try?

After pressing her palms into her eyes she sighed and took a deep breath through her nose. She just needed to calm back down and stop over-thinking these outros. If she didn’t focus so intently on the English words then they would come much more naturally. She just needed to relax.

Satya looked over herself one more time in the mirror by her camera, smoothing down her hair and readjusting her shirt before taking one more deep breath through her nose. And attempted her outro one more time.

“That was a wonderful game and I’m so happy to have experienced it. If you haven’t already I highly suggest playing it for yourself. Thank you all for joining me in this playthrough. And if you wish please subscribe to my channel and see you all in my next video!”

It wasn’t perfect, but it was a close as she could get. If she just sat here all day trying to record one outro she’d get nothing else done. She might try recording it again later but for now that would make a good placeholder for then end. Now came the part she enjoy much more. Most of the other youtubers she talked with hated editing their videos, but personally she actually enjoyed it. Compiling the most interesting moments during her recordings and putting them together however she liked. Even though it could be a bit more time-consuming Satya always found it worthwhile. To have complete control of her videos. To make them exactly how she envisioned, down to the very second. To make them perfect.

But before she got started editing, she decided to check her email, many times when she started editing she’d go into a zone and miss out on plans with her friends or important messages from her advertisers. For almost two years now she had been in a symbiotic relationship with Vishkar Tech that had elevated the videos she loved making into a viable career.

Before their contract Satya, or rather her online persona Symmetra, had a decent audience that grew steadily by word of mouth. She was always complimented on her calming voice, positive outlook on games and always keeping things age-appropriate for younger viewers. As it turned out Vishkar Tech liked her videos too, especially the latter factor. Enough so that they felt she was the perfect gamer to be a face for their products. They offered her a deal where they would give her a paycheck for each of her videos, as well as promote her material. And in turn she exclusively used their products only. Her headphones, her keyboard, nearly everything, even her chair were all Vishkar’s top-of-the-line products. And now for two years she’d been able to do one of the things she loved the most thanks to their support.

As she went through her email, she found no new messages from Vishkar. However there was one new email, one she didn’t recognize. It stuck out almost painfully in her inbox full of formal, professional emails. Its caption read “wanna collab??”

Wanna. Not Want to. No capitalization. Not to mention the fact that there were two question marks. She could just see her old English teacher from school looking at this in horror and making corrections in red ink all over the words, if they could even be called that. The addressed seemed strange too, like it had been created by a child going on the internet for the first time. “thejunkergamer@” The only thing missing was a bunch of extra numbers and underscores.

She dreaded opening the email, but at the same time she couldn’t help but feel curious. She’d never done a collaboration before. Mostly because she was seldom a big interactive person among the gaming community on youtube so no one had ever invited her into any crossovers or meet-ups. It did make sense though, with her growing popularity paired with Vishkar’s support she had become rather popular quickly, views on her videos increasing almost exponentially now. Who knew, it might be a fun change.

So not able to resist, and silently hoping this wasn’t actually a virus, she opened the email.

“Hi! So, your the great Symmetra everyones been talking about? I’ve seen a bunch of you’re stuff and I think your just great! Real chill and you seem like a nice person, got nice videos

Ok, this all started out as a joke in my videos. My mate Roadie and I would crack jokes about all the blokes who where “totally collabing” with us. And one or two times we may of brought up your name and it turns out, people actually liked that idea! Crazy right? So anyways it got big enough that a whole lot a people suggested you as a guest for our next crossover. But I dunno how this would all work. Since you’re in India and I’m bouncing around the States this year. Maybe if you’re in LA for that one convention thing we could meet-up then? I don’t know.

So email me back if your interested and we can figure all this out!

-Jamie (Junkrat) Fawkes”

Satya couldn’t help but stare at the email in slight confusion, like she was looking at strange modern art. It was legible but as Satya read through it she questioned if this could have been his real first language. At one point this so called Junkrat had written, taken the time to type “dunno” yet at another part had typed out “I don’t know” correctly. Why not write it correctly both times? How do you miss those kind of errors? The fact that the correct spelling was written near then end of his short email baffled Satya still. Who writes to someone they don’t know like that? “Yours” and “You’re” were mismatched all over, seeming random in choice of spelling.

The when she looked over the name and email again, she finally recognized it. He was on an Australian gaming channel, not one of the biggest household names but still rather popular. Their name regularly popped-up in the comments on her videos and in her searches. But she had never actually seen one of their videos.

She decided to change that now and looked up a playlist of some of his most recent videos, to see who she could potentially be working with. To be a popular face on youtube he had to be making interesting videos. And even if his form of entertainment wasn’t quite what Satya preferred to invest time in she had to respect the fact that he’d made video content a career for himself like she had. And who knew, maybe Junkrat would surprise her? What if behind his barely-legible email there was an engaging, entertaining series of videos that got him and his channel an audience.

Trying to keep an open mind, she clicked on one of the first video she saw. It was titled “Sonic ’06 Part 14: …”

She immediately regretted her choice when she saw the full title “Sonic ’06 Part 14: WHO WANTS TO BE SILVER’S B****??” The video began with someone yelling out a slew of swear words while a deep voice laughed in the background. Nope. Satya immediately got out of the video as soon as she could. That was way too loud and brash. She tried scrolling over the first video in the series, maybe they wouldn’t be so ridiculous with the first video. After all, it was probably just going over the tutorial, how bad could that be? She didn’t take any chances this time though, and scrolled over the title instead of blindly clicking on it.

Sure enough the full title was “Sonic ’06 Part 1: I WISH FOR THE SWEET RELEASE OF DEATH”

She made a mental note to just avoid any games related to sonic after that. After a few more minutes of searching she decided to try a video titled “Ocarina of Time Part 7: Tone Deaf Jam Sessions”

Throughout the video Satya found herself becoming more confused than anything. When Junkrat wasn’t yelling during difficult parts of the game he was just talking with his friend with the deep gravelly voice. Most of what they said had barely anything to do with their task at hand. Instead they’d either make terrible jokes or simply talk about their day. It was all rather mundane, like they were just two friends catching up over lunch. Most of the time they barely paid any attention to the game, Junkrat getting easily sidetracked. At one point their discussion about motorcycle repairs got so intense Junkrat accidentally walked straight into an enemy and got killed. And the strange character of a gamer would either laugh or scream at his own negligence while his friend would make dry comments.

This is what made them so popular? She’d seen many gamers rise to fame by just screaming throughout their gameplay but this was different. Sure they yelled plenty when it was expected but more so they would be trying to have an ordinary conversations. So much so it caused them to actually play worse, which by all expectations would mean they’d lose an audience, not gain one.

Another thing that was strange to Satya, the fact that they never showed footage of themselves. Most other gamers put in an small video of themselves in the corner of the screen but not them, they just showed footage of their game. If someone were to mute the game they would never even know someone was adding commentary.

But at the same time as she watched several more videos in the Junker’s Ocarina of Time series she felt herself grow a tad jealous. Sometimes she’d spend hours putting together her outfit and make-up for each of her playthroughs and for all she knew the Junkers were just playing in their pajamas. Actually. in a few of their videos they actually confirmed they indeed did. Satya couldn’t help but think of all the time she could save only voicing over her game play, but she knew that since she already made a habit of filming herself play she’d only get massive backlash for suddenly changing her videos. Not to mention Vishkar would probably be very cross with her if she suddenly stopped showing regular footage of herself using their products.

She stopped herself halfway through their series so she could go back to editing her videos, she still had her job to do after all. But as she went through her recording and began to piece together her video she kept mulling over Junkrat’s offer.

As her luck, or maybe her misfortune, would have it she had been invited to two different panels at the convention Junkrat had mentioned. Vishkar had already paid for her flight there and a room for the entire week. She would be there for the whole duration of the convention as well as the few days before, so she could afford the free time… Despite the email being a nightmare to read, he seemed nice enough. Maybe not a person she’d think to do a collaboration with, but it was still an interesting offer.

As for all the poor jokes, screaming and ridiculousness maybe it was all just an internet persona he and his partner put on for their show. Everyone who starred on a channel altered their personality one way or another. Even Satya had in creating her persona Symmetra. And despite being very much the same, Symmetra had never been a carbon copy of real-life self. Though Satya had to admit it would be nice to edit herself and her conversations much like she edited her videos, save herself from many embarrassing moments. Maybe the crazy persona of Junkrat was just that and Jamison Fawkes was a much more reasonable person to work with, one who just happened to have poor grammar. At least she hoped so…

But even if not, perhaps this could be the start of something. If she agreed to Junkrat’s invitation maybe it could open doors to more collaborations with the online gaming community. While she enjoyed working independently and was never one for large crowds or their chaotic noise she never hated the thought of having a few more friends online who she could interact with beyond the odd email every couple weeks.

Before she got too ahead of herself however, Satya realized she’d definitely have to ask Vishkar for permission before anything else. She hadn’t even thought of them. Would they even allow her to do crossovers? Especially with a persona as rash and vulgar as the Junker gamers? She decided to email them to ask before responding to Junkrat at all, just to be sure. And after she finished editing her current video of course. By the end of the day the newest episode in her playthrough of “The Deer God” was successfully uploaded and a full email was sent to Vishkar. Asking about a potential crossover and pleading her case for why it could be a further advancement for her channel.

Though as the email notification popped up on her screen, she couldn’t completely decide if she hoped they would say yes or no.

~~~~

A month later, and two days before the convention Satya wished Vishkar had said no.

If there were any difference between Jamison Fawkes and his online persona of Junkrat it was microscopic.

They had agreed to meet in the studio of some friends Junkrat knew to record their video. And when she had first arrived she still foolishly hoped that Jamison would be an actual person, and not the maniacal character he appeared like in all of his videos and emails. She couldn’t of imagined just how terribly, terribly wrong she had been.

After twenty minutes of nervously pacing around the small lobby of the recording studio Junkrat finally arrived. The only way Satya even knew it might be him was the sudden shouting and commotion outside and a car horn ringing out obnoxiously loud. That alone made her want to stay inside. But when even the receptionist hurried outside to see what was happening Satya decided enough was enough and she ought to find out what on earth the alleged Junkrat had done that was so outrageous. But as soon as she stepped outside and saw him she regretted it.

First of all was the parked car that looked like it had been crashed then left to rust for a hundred years. Chains and scrap metal decorated the thing as if it had just been driven out of an apocalypse. Then there was then man himself who stepped out of the car grinning from ear to ear.

A tall bean pole of a man crawled out of the vehicle, a raspy voice somehow shouting clearly over the growing crowd around them. His dusty goggles were pulled off his face and short blond hair that might have been gelled into spikes at one point were frazzled and wind blown out into every direction. And much to Satya’s fear the strange skin-tight grey shirt he was wearing wasn’t real. He was shirtless and that was all dirt.

There was only so much she could take, and as Junkrat and the crowd around him drew away from the car and towards the studio Satya raced back inside and to the restroom. She brought hands up to her scalp and groaned. Whatever hopes she had for this recording session going normally were dying and dead. How on earth was she supposed to work with that maniac? She wished she could just sneak back out of this studio and hide in her hotel. Maybe they’d believe her if she said she was sick all of a sudden and couldn’t make it in today?

But she’d already made a promise to record and they surely knew she was here by now. So instead she took and few deep breaths, splashed some cool water on her face and smoothed down her hair. And checking herself one last time in the restroom mirror, she went out to go meet Jamison “Junkrat” Fawkes in person.

She counted her lucky stars that the crowd that had come in had finally dispersed though it did little to quell the churning in her gut as she walked up to Junkrat. His back was turned from her as he talked with two other people Satya slightly recognized from other channels. As she approached Junkrat made no movement that he knew she was there. She looked to the two other people he was talking to but they made no effort to let him know either. That worry twisting her insides only coiled tighter at the awkwardness. For a moment she feared she’d have to tap him on his gross, dirt-coated shoulder, she hated anyone touching her in such an abrupt manner and dreaded having to do so to another person only slightly less. Instead, she cleared her throat loudly, a little rude Satya had to admit but at least she avoided having to touch him, and that finally got the Junker to turn around.

For a moment he looked completely lost and Satya feared for the worst but then his face suddenly lit up. “Oh! So we finally get to meet face to face, the great Symmetra! How’s it hanging!” He said. His voice could have almost sounded melodic if it weren’t so raspy.

When he put out a hand to shake Satya had to stop herself from recoiling, dirt coated his hands like gloves. “Uhhh…” Satya started, she didn’t want to be rude, but there was no way she’d ever want to touch that much dirt. Not even while held at gun-point. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance errr, Junkrat. But I’d rather not shake hands if I can help it.”

“Wut?” He said looking between her and his hand before realization finally dawned on his face again. “Oh yeah! Sorry about that, completely forgot I was wearing this stuff. Me and a few of my best mates just got done filming a prank video! It’s gonna be hilarious!”

Satya had seen a few pranking videos here and there, though she never was realty fond of any of them, but she’d never seen anything as outlandish as Junkrat’s get-up. And all for a prank-video? “And what sort of prank is this for?”

Junkrat smiled proudly with mischief clear on his face. “Mad Max. We signed up our car outside for Uber and then we went around town scaring the shit out of people! It was amazing, like we just rolled out of the apocalypse! I think my favorite when this little kid did the Sign of the V8 to us. It was just the cutest, you should have been there!” He looked like he would of kept going but then he shook his head and stopped himself. “But look at me going on and on when there’s a video to be made! I’ll show you back to the studio, we can pick out a game and get started!”

“Wait!”

Junkrat had been ready to leave when he turned back around to face Satya. “Yeah? Something wrong?”

“Aren’t you…” Satya really couldn’t find a nice way to say thing. But even if Junkrat didn’t, Satya at least had standards she hoped he could go by! There was only so much she could take today before she just overloaded. “Aren’t you at last going to try washing some of that… stuff off before we record?”

Junkrat gave her a blank look and then shrugged his shoulders. “Alright. I’ll just show you where we’ll be recording and you can get yourself all situated while I try and freshen up. Then we can find a game and go from there!”

To Junkrat’s credit he at least tried to wash off some of the dirt and make-up, Satya had to at least give him that. Even if it wasn’t much and when he came back into the recording studio he was more muddy than anything, she could tell he had at least try. He mentioned using a sealant on his arms and face which helped explain why it was such a pain to get off instead of normal dirt. Even if it still irked her and made want to grind her teeth in annoyance she could still realize that he’d tried at least.

Unfortunately, that was the last time he put forth any effort for the rest of their playthrough.

It started off mundanely enough. Together they had decided an old puzzle-platformer for their one-off crossover video. And after setting everything up, cameras, game, times, they stated recording and went through with introductions. It all went so smoothly, Satya decided she must have been lulled into a false-sense of security by it.

Then, inevitably perhaps, Junkrat grew bored. Just a little past the ten-minute marker it began. He had been telling her about his experience so far in America, Satya had actually been interested in what he was talking about, when he started trailing off suddenly focusing more on the game than he had ever before. Satya should have suspected something then but it was already too late. Suddenly a weird chirp sound came from the game and the whole screen seemed to lag.

“Oh no.” He said in a voice lacking any real distress. “Whenever I try to go to this room, everything gets all wonky.”

A look a pure mischief was on his face and Satya realized she wasn’t going to be in one of the calm JunkerGamer videos where they talk about their days, this was going to be a Sonic ’06 type of playthrough.

It all went downhill from there. Junkrat kept messing with the weird room, and at first Satya tried not to let it affect her. It was Junkrat’s channel he could make whatever mindless glitch-abusing video he liked. But it just… it was becoming way too much. She tried saying something, that he should just leave the stupid room before he broke the game and he’d just laughed. The game’s music grew more distorted, the pixelated designs started flashing. At that point Satya had snapped at him. That finally got him to turn and look at her.

“You alright?”

And then the game crashed.

But of course it couldn’t be an ordinary crash where the game just shuts itself down. No, instead the whole screen became flashes or blue and red and the whole game sounded like it was shrieking in chip-tune anguish, like a small robot was being murdered.

All she could see was red and she needed to get out of that room now. She could hear Junkrat and she told him to leave her alone. And then he’d left saying he’ll be back if she needed anything. She couldn’t clearly remember what happened after that but she found herself outside in the hallway. Breathing deeply through her nose, both her hands gripping her hair and unable to bring herself to look away from the floor. Normally she would have considered this an absolute, humiliating nightmare but at the moment she still felt too overwhelmed and pissed off.

She didn’t even know how long she was out there. But after some period of time, she heard someone coming down the hall and finally brought herself to look up. It was Junkrat, carrying two bottled waters and a plastic bag filled with snacks.

“Uhhhh, here.” He said, handing her the bottled water as a peace offering. She’d never seen him so shy before. She didn’t even know he could be shy.

She didn’t say anything back but still accepted the water.

“I… I am so sorry about that.” He said, fiddling with the bag of snacks instead of looking at her. “I shouldn’t of gone crazy on ya like that. Should of asked how you wanted things to go, from the start really.”

“You’re channel” Satya said.

“But it’s your crossover too… I’m sorry about all this, really. Do…” He took a deep breath to get whatever words he wanted to say in order and tried again. “Do you need me to call you a ride?”

The offer was tempting, so so tempting. She wanted to just go back to the hotel and forget this day ever happened. But at the same time, she still had a promise to go through with. Both of them had already told, even advertised to their fans that they were finally making this crossover. And Junkrat seemed sincerely sorry.

“No. I’ll stay.”

“Wait wut?” Junkrat was completely dumb-founded.

“On one condition.” Symmetra continued. “I pick out the game. We can still have commentary but I’d rather be in control.”

“Uh- yeah yeah, of course. Anything ya like.”

Massaging her head one last time, she pulled herself off the wall and together they walked back into the studio. She decided on “Endevor” an old game she’d been fond of back in her Newgrounds days. They set everything back up, wrote down their new time slot for editing later and tried their second attempt at a crossover video. Satya started the game with the keyboard, explaining to Junkrat what it was about and how much she’d loved it long before she began filming her playthroughs. At one point or another she ended up handing the game over to Junkrat to play and he seemed to enjoy it as well, mentioning how he always liked games with a free-world the most. He even finished his story about being in America. She realized somewhere between the American snacks she knew must sound awful on the mics and the calmer game and music she’d stumbled into something that felt right in the middle of one of her own playthroughs and one of Junkrat’s “talk-about-your-day” ones. It was all so pleasant. She was actually having fun.

But much sooner then either of them had expected, their time in the studio was up and they said their goodbyes before ending their video.

As Satya left for her ride Junkrat followed her out to the lobby of the studio.

So I’ll get the video done and send ya the finished copy before posting it anywhere?”

Satya nodded and smiled slightly. “Sounds like a fair plan.”

Her ride drew into the parking lot and she turned back to Junkrat. “Good bye then, Junkrat.”

“Thank you for doing this, really it’s been a lot of fun.”

Satya wasn’t too sure what to say, certainly not ‘you’re welcome’ though the words seemed to impulsively come to mind. “I enjoyed this myself. It went much better than I had expected.” Hopefully that sounded alright.

“Glad to hear it.” He said smileing. “But honest I gotta make it up to you.”

“No need.” She said, politeness being more like e a knee reaction.

“No no I mean it. Just say the word and I’ll make it happen.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She said as she stepped into the car. “Take care of yourself, Junkrat.”

“Same goes to you ‘Metra!” He said waving.

Then just like that

~~~

Much later Junkrat went to work with Roadhog editing a bunch of their footage from the day. They’d been hoping to get thse videos out by the weekend in time for the convention. Hog was working on the Mad Max prank while he did the crossover with Symmetra.

So far it looked like the crossover video was going to be a bit shorter, barely scraping 15-minutes, than the normal half-hour material the Junker Gamers usually worked with. Junkrat had been tempted to use some of the recordings from the first half of their recording session but decided against it. Being an ass was only funny if A: the person you’re dealing with was a cunt or B: They were in on the joke and knew what was going on, and Symmetra had been neither.

But even being cut short, overall Junkrat considered this crossover a technical success. Sure, they may have gotten off on the wrong foot. And sure, the one and only Symmetra, calmest voice on the internet, had yelled at him and called him an ass. And sure, at one point she was about ready to walk out on their recording. And, actually if Junkrat were to grade himself on the overall this would be a failure, no arguments. Luckily Junkrat wasn’t looking at the overall, he was looking at the end result. And after finally getting his head out of his ass, and talking things through they had actually made a successful crossover playthrough. He’d even enjoyed himself the second half of their game. And Symmetra had become much more relaxed too.

He’d actually felt terrible that she’d gotten so overwhelmed, especially since he’d had his own moments of sensory overload and knew how much it sucked. He should have seen all those signs early on and backed off but instead he’d kept pushing and pushing, trying to be funny and keep the show going.

He counted himself lucky she didn’t leave the studio all together, he certainly would of if he were in her place. And thankfully while their playthrough at least ended on a high note he felt like he should really try making it up to her. Definitely this week before the convention. But what would someone like Symmetra even like? They’d talked some while playing their game but in the end he still didn’t know that much about her.

Roadhog’s deep laugh pulled him from his thoughts. “Oh fuck, Jamie look at this!”

Junkrat crawled out of his chair and leaned over Roadhog’s shoulder to see what he was laughing at. It was a clip of when they’d finally gotten to the studio. He and hog were doing their thing, being crazy and scary when in the background was Symmetra. She came out of the front doors to the studio and when she saw them her face contorted in sheer terror like a deer in headlights before bolting back inside. Roadhog had gone back over the video and zoomed in on her, and started adding the caption “nope” as she ran away. Normally something like that would have made him cackle but right now it only felt like his guts were sinking.

Junkrat started rapidly tapping Roadhog’s shoulder before he could add the clip into full video. “Hog, Hog, wait! Don’t add that in. I never got permission from ‘Metra.”

“You sure? Looks pretty funny.”

“Yeah, she was having a crappy day and- just don’t add that in.”

“Ok...” Roadhog began, he hadn’t heard Junkrat sound so worried. Not in a long time, not since they started their channel. “Everything go alright with her?”

Junkrat chewed at his lip a little before answering. “I guess so, we did ok. At the beginning I was doing my usual shit, fucking up the game and she wasn’t having it. She actually got real upset before we took a break. I thought she was going to walk out on our crossover. Can see why though, I was being a real cunt.”

“And that’s your idea of ok?” Hog added dryly.

“Hey! Things got better after we took a break!” Junkrat snapped. “We finished off the recording, shorter than I would of hoped but that’s my own fault. And at least we ended it without wanting to tear off eachother’s heads… Still wanna make it up to her though.”

“Well you better get cracking then. Cause you got less than a week to do something.” Roadhog rumbled before going back to work on their prank video. And as Junkrat followed suit his mind was a buzz trying to find ideas.

He didn’t want to do anything cheap and faceless like a fruit-basket or any of that sort of shit. He had to make this a bit more sincere, to let her know he was actually sorry. And he wasn’t sure quite why, maybe for the sake of vindication or something. But he wanted her to know that he understood where she was coming from, that they were both a bit more alike than she even knew. But most of all he hoped that by making this up to her they could actually become friends.

But what on earth would she like? He decided later after he finished up their crossover he’d go watch some more of her videos and try finding any clues that might be there. He knew she liked really pretty-peaceful-artsy-type games so maybe he could build off of that…

~~~

On the day before the start of the convention, Satya received a package sent to her hotel room. It was a light-blue and gold-trimmed box, sloppily wrapped by someone who obviously had little experience. And on the tag she found out it was from Junkrat.

Unsure of what she might find she tentatively unwrapped the gift. Inside was a homemade playlist of songs, some of which she didn’t recognize while other she did, she was surprised to find a few of her favorite themes on the CD as well. On the CD Junkrat had scribbled out “’Metra’s Jamz” as well as the small smiley face that littered the Junker’s videos. There were a few other things in the box as well, a bound journal (also blue with gold trim), a few gift cards to cafés in the area, a handful of American and Australian candies. But what ultimately caught her eye was a note that was shoved into the bottom of the box instead of on the outside like most letters. It was an apology from Junkrat, and that he hoped they could meet up again sometime during the convention.

She was surprised to say the least, she’d assumed that after their recording that would be the last she ever heard of Junkrat. And now here was this, yet another thing completely unexpected. But also so kind, seldom had someone else been the one to apologize, she was so use to having to apologize to other people for her outbursts and yet Junkrat not only did but went out of his way to make up for it. She wasn’t sure what to think of it all. She did hope that they could see each other again at the convention.

[shakesonaplane]

“People Seem To Fake Sneeze A Lot Here” - A Weekend in Vilnius, Lithuania

Sveiki and Happy Thanksgiving to all my Americans reading this as they prep for a night of football, feasting and fullness! As the winter kicks in hard here in Europe, you would assume that my travel habits would gear more towards the Equator than into the heart of darkness that is Northern and Baltic Europe. However, as counter-intuitiveness seems to be the life’s modus operandi, Lithuania was the next destination for my continental exploration. Your reaction to that last sentence was probably the same as the majority of people I told about this trip: “Oh wow, that’s so random…won’t it be cold?” To avoid burying the lead too much here: yes, it was cold. I’ve converted myself to Celsius since moving here, and the temperature seemed to hover in and around the -1 to 3° (30 to 40° F) each day (though we did enjoy an unseasonably warm 5° one afternoon). However, if you’ve read any of my exploits from the beginning of this blog (and / or have spoken to me about travel) you’ll know that a little cold wasn’t going to stop us. So, without further ado, here’s why you might think Lithuanian people fake sneeze a lot (and other stories from this weekend)

Just a taste of the street art (and general political feel) you might find in Vilnius

Full disclosure, given the way the weekend went, I didn’t really capture a ton of great photos of the landscape of Vilnius. A logical reason for this would be how short the days were and how cloudy / rainy it was while visiting. The real reason is that we stayed out late basically every day and struggled out of bed wondering how we could be so hungover on such a budget. Actually, that’s a wonderful first tidbit about Vilnius: it’s incredible affordable. As a person living in London, who has lived in SF, and has traveled to many pricey places in Europe, this was a very welcome surprise. Since Lithuanians use the Euro for currency, it was also superbly easy to just bring all my old Euros in to get rid of them slowly but surely. That said, if you’re someone who travels internationally a lot, I can’t recommend Revolut enough. It’s by far the easiest way to convert currency when traveling to so many different countries, with a contactless debit card and an app that gives you everything you need, including a fast way to pay your friends back. But, obviously this is not an ad for anything except my eccentricities in writing and traveling. So, let’s move on…

This was just one of the immaculately cool walls I saw round this city, with artwork I need to seek out for my own abode By this point you’re probably wondering what the title of this post means. And, to be honest, I waited a long time to tell you mostly to annoy…I don’t know how many people ever really get far into these posts so consider this my way of “catfishing” you into more commute / work / toilet reading. Anyways, in Lithuanian, “ačiū” means thank you. If you’re like me and can’t even begin to pronounce letters with too many accents on the top, this is pronounced “achoo”. So imagine our surprise when we heard this word all over the place and quickly figured out what it meant. Couple that with the fact that my nickname was often mispronounced “Anchoo” when I was growing up and you have quite the weekend of vernacular queries. 

Cobblestones and heavy winter boots are not a recipe for comfort, but oh my god is that sunlight!? But this leads me to a really cool aspect of Lithuanian culture, namely, their politeness. I don’t have a lot of experience in Eastern Europe, but I didn’t imagine it to be a particularly friendly place from what I knew. What we found was that this could not be farther from the truth. Once you break through the facade of the grim look (which I can’t blame them for given the weather) you find genuinely nice people who want to have a chat and learn a bit about you. Granted, 3 brown brothers are quite the sight in Lithuania on a weekend. Where I would’ve expected mild confusion and general disinterest, we instead were met with curiosity, jokes and cheerfulness at our decision to visit this small city. This might go without saying, but if you’re an avid traveler, turn on your social extrovert side and you’ll be amazed at how much fun people around the world can be. It could be the pub owner who shares his favorite beer recommendations, the record store owner who plays The Flirts - “Passion” when asked for the song of the day, or the shop owner who hooks you up with recommendations and activities for the whole weekend.

At a 3am falafel stop, we legitimately disagreed with this and provided two big bear hugs to our server which they joyfully appreciated If you’re wondering who the “we” are in this story, I was joined yet again by my ongoing-yet-concerning-to-my-parents-travel-buddy Rohan and his friend / my friend / “we can be friends” / “we can do this every weekend” Brett who lives in Copenhagen. While this was the first time the three of us traveled together, we quickly found no real issue with that, jumping right into coffees, donuts, and all the vegan-friendly spots we could find. Another fun tidbit about Vilnius is that it’s incredibly Vegan / Vegetarian friendly, which is great for Brett (the vegan / telekinetic in our group). In most European countries this would mean a tricky dining situation everywhere we went, but not so in Vilnius. With spots like ZATAR Falafel and Hummus, GYVAS baras, Holy Donut, Vegcafe and Ramenas ir Pagaliukai providing great vegan options for visitors while not sacrificing flavor, Brett (and other vegans out there) can easily find a full belly anywhere they go. Given the season, I imagine the foods we had were warming and filling, so I do wonder what the warmer weather would bring to this city. Oh, and by filling, I would be remiss if I did not mention that we optimized our weekend here for at least one donut stop / day. If you’re wondering why 3 adult males would ever need to eat donuts that often, you can stop reading this blog right now.

In case you’re stumbling home at some late hour, you’ll be happy to know Zatar is open till 5am so you can avoid that Hesburger stop As an amateur bartender, you’re probably curious to know what I think of drinking in Vilnius. Let me be as clear as I can here: this is a fun place to have a drink. You might not find the most unique and creative cocktails as I did in Mallorca, you’ll find a litany of craft beer and inexpensive cocktails that are made with care and skill. One thing that you learn after moving to Europe is that the night doesn’t really start till 1am in some countries, so you REALLY need to pace yourself. That means that, contrary to British life, eating is not cheating. If you find yourself in Vilnius and need a good craft beer, I would recommend nearly every bar here (seriously). But the ones we stopped by are Nisha Craft Capital, any Šnekutis, and Marsas (for a good dive feeling). If you’re looking for cocktails, we were all really surprised by the tastes at Trinity (probably the coolest looking bar on this list), Dream Bar, and Distilerija. This is not at all an exhaustive list of places to drink in Vilnius, as we literally found ourselves at a hostel bar drinking mezcal at some point (with the worm). But, should you find yourself here, rest assured that when you need your whistle wetted, you’ll be quickly and easily covered until about 5am.

Trying to select a beer is easy…just close your eyes, point at something and say in broken English “yes…that one” Overall this trip was one of the more interesting ventures I’ve had recently. It doesn’t stand as “the best” or “most unique”, but instead was a lovely weekend away with good friends in a location that had lots to offer. You’ll notice how I didn’t really talk too much about the sites to see (cathedrals, street art, and beautiful hidden finds are abundant) or the coffee we drank (literally stopped at Huracán every day for a boost) or even the Užupis neighborhood (a miss on our trip). That’s by design, because sometimes when you travel it’s less about what you see and do and more about what you experience, especially with the people around you (travel buddies and locals). I often operate on the “holy shit see everything on my list”, so this trip was a welcome stroll in the cobblestoned streets of calm travel. 

Yeah, three brown guys standing awkwardly in front of a church in Lithuania doesn’t look suspicious AT ALL…

With that said, I’ll leave you with something new to wrap up the trip. As Rohan, Brett, and I sat for our final coffee before heading out (obviously with a donut), we reminisced on our top 3 things of the trip we just took, as if we were going to write this post together. You’ll notice all the themes are covered here, but I would be remiss if I didn’t put down what I wrote in my journal that evening:

Brett - Our neighborhood’s vibe and cozy feel; Easy access to vegan-friendly options; Amazing craft beer

Rohan - Small city feel to Vilnius; Hospitality and friendliness of everyone; the random Trinity Bar find

Shake - Cathedral / Churches and history of the city, Holy Donuts everyday, Ease of traveling around and meeting people

Would we revisit Vilnius sometime in the future? Probably. Would we wait for it to be warm first? Without a doubt :)

Immediate reaction upon taking this photo: “We’re like a brown-boy light-to-dark spectrum” As always, if you desire some more unique photos from this weekend, check out the album of photos I took. Sadly I couldn’t use my iPhone 7 (due to restrictions from work) so I opted for an iPhone 6 and the photos are just not up to their regular clarity. And here’s the map of our recommendations of things to eat/drink/see in Vilnius:

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Sveikinimai! Abhishek

[thingsillneverdomyphdon]

Definitions, Part 1 of an n*-Part Series

*where n is a large number

One of the things my wife and Sue Frankel and everybody else have pointed out is how deep-seated is my belief that everybody starts from the same view of the world that I start from. As I noted on Monday, the extant example of this is the piece I wrote last Friday about the source of human consciousness (which I will come back to, because holy crap did that idea get a lot bigger since last Friday) which was based on ideas from I Am A Strange Loop by Douglas Hofstadter. Most people haven’t read that. I have, and I went forward assuming that others had too. That was, you know, confusing.

So let’s remedy that: we’ll start with Machine Learning, because I talk about it a lot. Machine Learning is a process where you build a model based on a whole bunch of information, and then you can “sample” from that model. It is based on a coding technique called a neural network, which is actually pretty old (the only thing that’s new is that we now have enough computing power available to us to make it work well). Here’s how a neural network might work (in particular this is a description of a character-based recurrent neural network):

You give it some text: “Now is the winter of our discontent, made glorious summer by this Son of York.” The neural network notes that it starts with a capital ‘N’, and that it is followed by a small ‘o’. It makes a little box for the capital N and a little box for the small o and draws an arrow from the ‘N’ to the ‘o’ (”oh,” the neural network is saying, “sometimes little-o comes after big-N).

Next it sees a w. It doesn’t have a box for w yet, so it makes one. It draws an arrow from the o to the w. (”Sometimes w follows o”). 

It’ll do the same thing for the ‘w’, except the character that comes after ‘w’ is ‘space.’ It makes a box for ‘space’ because that’s a character, too (”Sometimes space follows w”).

It repeats this process until it runs out of data (it gets to the end of the sentence, in this case). There’s one other thing I haven’t explained, which is what happens when you see the same combination again. For instance, in the sentence above, small n follows small o a couple of times (in “discontent” and “Son”). When that happens, the neural network draws a second arrow from the o-box to the n-box. That connection gets stronger (”n follows o more often than it follows other things”) 

Now you’ve got a model that looks like this:

(I just did “Now is the winter” there to keep it simple). Now you can sample that model. You say, “Hey model, start with the letter ‘i’, what do you think the next letter is?” If you use the picture above, you see that it can go to the ‘i’ box and see that it can go from there to ‘s’ or ‘n’, and so it’ll pick ‘s’ half the time and ‘n’ the other half of the time. And it can keep going using that method. Note that if it picks s, it’ll output “is ”, and if it choses ‘n’, it’ll come up with ‘inthe’ or ‘inte ’, or ‘inter’. Which are almost words. So that’s kind of interesting already.

But mostly what comes out of this example is going to be a string of random characters--just junk. You can see that right now. So we need to do better than that, and this is where recurrence comes in. There are lots and lots of ways of doing recurrence, and I don’t really understand any of them (when I read the Wikipedia page that describes them, my eyes glaze over. It is the same thing that my wife says happens to her when she reads Derrida: I know what all of the individual words mean, but they won’t go together to make meaning in my brain). 

Instead I’m going to give an example of a recurrent algorithm that I made up. I suspect it’s a real one, or very close to a real one, but I don’t really know for sure. I’m going to go back through my sentence, but this time I’m going to look at the letters in groups of two. I’m going to start with ‘N-o’ and observe that ‘w’ sometimes comes after it. Then ‘ow’ and observe that ‘space’ sometimes comes after that. Then ‘w-space’, and observe that ‘i’ sometimes comes after that. Now, right away, you can see that it’s going to be a different kind of chain. You can’t walk the graph in the same way, because instead it’s a list of boxes that have two letters in them that point to one letter.

So if I want to sample from this set of data, I have to combine it with my previous graph. I’ll show you how by working the same example again: I start off the sample, but this time I tell it to start ‘ i’ (space, then ‘i’). Before the computer had one letter to work with, so it went to ‘n’ 50% of the time and ‘s’ 50%. But now it has more information: it’s got two letters, so it could also use that. “Hmm,” says the algorithm, “have I ever seen the combination ‘ i’ before? Yes I have! It went to “s” after that.” So now what the algorithm is going to do is give more weight to the ‘s’ than the ‘n’. The algorithm is going to temporarily draw a second line between the ‘i’ box and the ‘s’ box in the first graph, and now it is twice as likely to chose ‘s’ as the next letter as it is ‘n’ (note that if we had a real data set--lots and lots of sentences instead of just one--we’d probably weigh the ‘n’ much more heavily. Lots more words in English start with ‘in-’ than ‘is-’). What we’re doing is allowing the second set of data to modify the first graph based on what’s happened in the sentence so far. This is recurrence: we change the model while we’re sampling, based on where we’ve been. 

Recurrence is the Miracle That Occurs in Step TwoTM* of Machine Learning. It’s how we go from something that’s gobbledygook to something that starts looking like actual text that has actual meaning in it. It’s also why Machine Learning is good now, but wasn’t when in was invented in the 80′s: you need recurrence to do anything halfway decent, and to do good recurrence you need to be able to build really extensive models that consider many characters at a time (for instance, in building English words out of the Latin alphabet, the patterns don’t emerge until you consider many letters at a time--words can be 12 and 13 and 14 characters or longer). If you really, really want to get deep into this (this should be none of you, but I’ll link it anyway), here are the results of an experiment I did a few years ago with a text-based recurrent neural network. This experiment worked because I wasn’t trying to reproduce all of English--I developed a very simple “language” with very structured rules for the computer to learn, and it was able to do that really well. 

My deeper understanding of Machine Learning ends there. I dimly understand the concepts behind computer vision (because I worked briefly at a company that was investigating it), so I understand how a computer can see an image (it goes pixel by pixel, notes the color data, and learns what colors go next to each other when it’s shown, say, pictures of birds). What I’m fuzzy on is how we go from sampling data to making decisions (that is, my machine learning experiment produced more examples of what it was given. I have no notion how I would have fed it another file and asked, “Is this also a drum loop?”) An important thing to note, therefore, is this: the assertions I’m making about Machine Learning in this blog are based on my intuitive sense. It’s a combination of a basic understanding of the technology itself, a deep understanding of the application of algorithms to data and what that can do (it’s what I mostly do for a living), and a knowledge of what and how innovations tend to be driven by Capitalism.  

I’m back and forth about whether the YouTube recommendation the other day represents something new on this front. The last thing I can find says the YouTube recommendation algorithm is just the Amazon people-who-bought-x-also-bought-y algorithm (which is done via algorithms that pre-date Machine Learning, as far as I know). I don’t have any reason to think it got upgraded to Machine Learning last week, and looking at my recommended videos now, it doesn’t seem like it knows any more new things about me than that I’m now interested in Richard Feynman, I play the guitar, I’m doing something with Unity, and I like baseball. All true. All things that don’t display any deep insight into me per se. So that too is a data point.    

*”A miracle occurs in step 2″ is an expression in our family. It means that an argument has not been adequately explicated. It comes from this cartoon by Sidney Harris. 

[kyliekarry]

Hello everyone. My name is Yustihani Binti Yusof. First and foremost, welcome to my story. Throughout this session, you will get to know about my tourist, Nelly. Hope that everyone can enjoy.

Nelly Ban Den Heyden.

First of all, I would like to introduce the background of the tourist that I have met.Her name is Nelly Ban Den Heyden. For short, just call her Nelly. She is 72 years old. Purpose of visiting, simple because they attracted to our nature and also the weather which is sunny and humid throughout the year.

Discovering the lower countries.

The tourists that I had interviewed were a pair of couple who came from Netherland. Have you ever wonder the reason behind its name? For your information, due to its low land and flat geography, the government came up with the name of Netherland which means lower countries.Rather than interviewing both, the supporting old man asked me to choose his wife to do so as she can improve her English. Both of them live in a town named Holland in Lith. It is a country that experienced four seasons which are the summer, winter, autumn, and spring. The citizens of Netherland mostly used Deustch as the main language since it is their mother tongue. As we chatted further, I asked her about the popular places in their country that are highly recommended for tourists to visit are Amsterdam and Lisse. Have you ever wonder why those places were highly recommended by Nelly? This is because Amsterdam is the country’s capital where everyone super excited for shopping. Besides, Nelly also mentioned that bicycles are very popular in their country.This is because it is the best way to get around Amsterdam.For the food lover, no worries because you can enjoy hundreds of restaurant from Greek to Thai cuisine as soon you arrived Amsterdam. Meanwhile, Lisse are well-known with its  Keukenhof garden, which has millions of spring-flowering bulbs all around.

Proud to be Sabahan.

Next, it is about Nelly’s experience with the local culture. At first she was confused. The moment I mentioned nasi lemak and roti canai, she started to express how delicious both of the food. Since then, she will ask for either nasi lemak or roti canai whenever they come to restaurant. Naturally refreshing, coconut water has a sweet, nutty taste is also one of the reasons Nelly enjoying visiting Sabah. Besides, the creativity of our local culture who suprisingly make out pudding and reuse the coconut by putting those alluring pudding in it totally make Nelly loves Sabahan Culture so much.That was a good impression of our culture! Besides, she keeps mentioning how polite Malaysian greet one and another. Nelly was impressed everytime she sees us shaking our hands as in her country, they usually just do simple greeting towards another people they meet.As for the funny moment that she experienced so in communicating with the local ethnic in Malaysia, Nelly keep on repeating that her english is bad. Some incidents always happen whenever she is interested on buying few souvenirs. There is one day where Nelly visiting the Sabah Museum alone as her husband have some work to be settled down. By then, she was interested to ask the painter to draw her face. Unfortunately, instead of monitoring Nelly’s physical features, the painter end draw a plate of noodles. He was shocked the moment Nelly burst into laugh. Due to the barrier in verbal communication, Nelly take out her small memo and started to draw random faces on it. Everything went as expected and finally Nelly can bring home a realistic art by the painter. What a memorable moment back then!

I’d rather bend than break.

Last but not least, this paragraph will be full of my best experience starting from how I approach Nelly and her husband. It was started when I asked permission from the receptionist and luckily they let me in after browsing few documents and some sort of questions that I actually prepared before come to Seaside Travellers. At first it was kind of frustrating as the receptionist told me that there were no tourist staying inside as all of them are busy discovering Sabah along with their own tour guide. Therefore, I make up my mind and continue searching for the tourist with the hope that at least I can find one of them, sure it will be good enough. The moment I saw Nelly resting near the swimming pool, this is totally my chance to have my work done. So, I started approaching them and have a short talk with their tour guide. Fortunately, everything went well as I expected. The tour guide asked me to spend around ten to twenty minutes and he even give me some useful tips to approach them so Nelly and his husband will not feel awkward around me. First of all, as everyone does, I introduce some of my background and of course my faculty as well. When I show my matric card towards them, Nelly slightly give his husband a smile and our session is full of laughter because we have a barrier in communication. For your information, I even asked Nelly to write her name for me as I cannot catch up with her pronounciation at all. There are some time when I get nervous and suddenly I ask her some questions too fast. Nelly will give me a puzzle look so this is the moment where I give the best of me while using a lot of sign language as she cannot understand any of the word that came out from my mouth. I would like to say thank you very much to his husband for helping me to make sure that his beloved wife can understand what I currently speak about. As the time passed by, I would also like to appreciate Madam Silver as my lecturer who come with this assignment for us, , without the students realizing, we already gain one of the experience that are rarely for the local to get so. Credits to Nelly and his husband who spend seven minutes for me just to have this short session. I also have prepared a key chain which has a crab shape as a small souvenir for them. As for the photo, once again I need to come up with a sign language and make some gesture to make sure that they can easily understand what I exactly mean. In conclusion, though I have a lot problems while doing this assignment, I feel proud to have such a high self confidence to talk alone with the tourist while having continuosly goosebumps all around my body. Once again, I would like to say thank you to those who participating directly or indirectly in this assignment. Last but not least, be sure to have a nice day everyone.