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wing-ed-thing · 2 years ago

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Cliché (Might Guy x Reader, Part I)

Synopsis: The real shinobi work went out to the fearless... which wasn’t you. Teaching was more in your realm of comfort, that is, until you’re teamed up with your old academy classmates to lead the next generation of genin.

Word Count: 1.6k

Tags/Warnings: @brokennerdalert Timid!Reader, Sensei!Reader, Minor Original Characters, Gender Neutral Reader

Part I Part II

Notes: Look familiar? It’s the rewrite! Cliché was my first ever fan fiction and I’ve wanted to rewrite it for a big anniversary (which was pushed way back). Dedicated to @altogetherweathered who has been here since day 1.

Sometimes you wondered where the years had gone.

Another year, another batch of genin to train.

You didn’t mind, of course. You looked into the eyes of your new students. Their glossy photographs stared back at you, pinned together with a paperclip. Ryo, Hikaru, Takahiro. They looked sweet and overall, nothing special. They would do nicely. Your eyes scanned the roster, thumbs creasing the paper at the sides as the material began to moisten slightly under the sweaty pads of your fingers. You felt that perhaps you were better at teaching than other types of shinobi work. The real jobs went to the fearless— and you could be honest with yourself— that just wasn’t you. At least with teaching, you received a steady salary. The missions on your roster were genin level for the most part (unless you were summoned for higher level field work which seldom happened). And while children were oftentimes unpredictable, you were never thrown anything outside of your comfort zone. And you could live with that.

Academy from age five, then the chūnin selection exams. A shinobi (or kunoichi) could have their lives planned out from age twelve. Between the mission work and the mandatory academic service required of all non-ANBU, you supposed that this was your prime. You flipped back to the front of your packet to the list of teams that were carefully selected weeks ago. Familiar names associated with faces you hadn’t seen since your teenage years.

Team Asuma. Now that would be one smart team. You remembered Sarutobi well and you didn’t have to have much interaction with him to recognize his brute strength. As you moved down the list, you wondered how he ended up.

Team Kurenai. She probably had about as many reservations as you did. At least that’s what you got through your passing interactions. You seemed to see her most often. Although you could chalk it up mostly to coincidence rather than the fact that Kurenai was a new team teacher this season. With duty, it had been a while since you had an actual conversation with any of your classmates, after all. It was nice knowing you might have a potential ally in all of this. Your eyes fluttered down at the list of names under her. None that you recognized. Although, you weren’t sure why you would recognize any names on the list to begin with.

Team Kakashi. Spirits, bless those children.

Team Guy. You paused. Now there was an underdog. It didn’t take much thinking to remember Might Guy (for he was always far too loud and flashy to forget). A certain amount of anxiety hung over your head like a cloud as a nervous flurry made its way into your chest. You thought back to your academy days, inhaling sharply, as you slowly tried to convince yourself; you’re an adult now, things will be different this time.

“You’re here early.” You barely heard Iruka’s voice over the sound of your yelp. You scrambled back, causing the both of you to stumble in surprise. The younger shinobi held his hands up to his chest, a sheepish expression morphing his lips into an awkward smile. Sheer mortification overtook your heart and your face. Being snuck up on in your line of work was surely something that would keep you up at night for years to come. You fumbled with the roster, putting it down on the desk before remembering that you were supposed to have it anyway.

“So sorry, I was here to pick up the roster and uh… look for you!” You picked the packet back up, gesturing to him with it. He nodded knowingly before making his way over to flip through his masterlist. “Since, you know, I couldn’t make it earlier.”

“Yeah, no, I’m sorry that I wasn’t here. I’m glad you could stop by.” Iruka laughed and the tension in your raised shoulders eased the slightest bit. You wished that you and Iruka were in the same class during the Academy. Maybe things would have been different if you were born two years later. You had to wonder. “I’m still a strong believer that if academic service is required, then sensei should at least be intelligible to be pulled for mission work. I think every year I’ve worked here the team leaders have tried to meet and it’s never worked out for anyone. But I don’t have to tell you that.”

Iruka looked up from his paper flipping, standing with one hand shoved in his pocket as he offered you another gentle smile. You hummed in agreement, mirroring his expression. You had been in mission selection meetings all morning, but as to be expected, you were put on paper-based duties at home base. In all honesty, you were relieved to have missed the action yet again. You always were, although it meant that you didn’t get a lot of interaction with shinobi around your class age. Typically, most of your time revolved around your students and perhaps the jōnin from other student teams if not the same handful of people in the Hokage’s office. Although that interaction was scarce.

“Then I guess it was the usual?” you asked, pulling up a spare chair. Iruka bobbed his head from side to side as he cast his eyes up diagonally.

“Just Kurenai and Asuma. You know how Kakashi is.”

“If timing wasn’t an issue, I’d say that getting to talk to you one-on-one would be a far better system anyway.” You flipped the first page of your information packet, bouncing from the overview to the information specific to your team. “So, tell me about these three. What stands out to you?”

You listened carefully as Iruka walked you through your new team, scribbling down on your papers every now and again. He, like the many other times you had gone over teams with him, was as thorough as you liked. The more you knew about your students from someone who knew them on an academic level— their learning style, their strengths, their weaknesses, their quirks— the more confident you felt in leading them. From your earlier, brief, passing interaction, you knew Kurenai to have a similar team structure: a quiet boy, a quiet girl, and a slightly rowdy boy, all with kekkei genkai. Iruka watched on as you made the last of your notes.

Loud footsteps made their way down the hallway. The sound of boots on tile grew closer, causing both you and Iruka to look towards the door before it swung open with a slam.

“Am I too late?!” You unconsciously sank back into your chair as Might Guy appeared in the doorway. You raised your packet up, although not far enough up to cover your face. You, after all, didn’t want to make your discomfort obvious. Iruka sighed as he quickly thumbed through the papers on his desk.

“Not too late, I have your team overview here.”

“You’re a life-saver, Iruka. Have I told you that?” Guy lumbered over with an exaggerated look of exasperation. Despite your efforts to disappear into your seat (you probably could have if you weaved your hand signs fast enough), Guy’s eyes met yours. The temperature of your cheeks rose as your lips threatened to form a grimace. He glanced from you to Iruka. “Did we have a meeting?”

“No, we were just going over—”

— “I was just going!” You stood a bit too fast and exclaimed a bit too loud. Guy didn’t seem to notice or mind. Iruka handed him his student list. You gripped your own in your hand, trying to work up the courage to inch towards the exit.

“Did you want to go over anything?” Iruka asked Guy, who shook his head. Guy held up a hand, lids closed in self-assurance.

“No worries, my friend, I don’t need to know anything about these new youngins to know that they’re goin’ to be fiery with the hot passion of their youth!” Iruka nodded along. Whatever that means. The both of you made eye contact as you took a few quiet steps towards the door. You mouthed a quick thanks before attempting to take your leave, but Might Guy was far too quick. “Oh!” He exclaimed, causing you to nearly jump. “You’re on your way out? We can talk about this team stuff! What’s your name again?”

Guy strode up to you, rambling more about something that you couldn’t register. You couldn’t look him in his face. Instead, you stood, mostly frozen, staring at the open collar of his jōnin vest. The vest had to be the only thing about his ensemble that changed since your academy days. That and his overall physique. Guy always said that he’d grow tall back when you were children and his prediction certainly came true. If only all wishful thinking could get you what you wanted. You could take in his scent from where you stood. It reminded you of something akin to a freshener sachet for utility bags: woodsy, dark, and clean.

You felt like you were about to pass out.

“I, uh, actually had more questions for Iruka,” you somehow managed to stifle out. You had no idea how you were still standing, let alone talking. Guy didn’t seem to notice your daze and in a moment of unrecallable memories, he disappeared.

The front of a chair knocked against the back of your knees and that’s all it took for you to plop down in the seat. Iruka stood to your side, hand on the top rail as he fanned you with his student file. He took in your flustered face in silence. He thought it best not to remark on your decade old crush or let on to the fact that everyone seemed to know except for Might Guy.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Naruto AU where no one wears open toed shoes lol

#might guy x reader #maito gai x reader #maito gai #might guy #Naruto x reader #Naruto #maito guy #might gai #naruto x you #naruto x y/n #x you #x reader #reader insert

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swiss-cheeze · 4 years ago

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Cold Shoulder || Spencer Reid || SMUT

Requested: YES/NO - Reader and Spencer are in a secret relationship. They have kinky sex. Next day Spencer comes in with bruises and a slight limp and the team tease him about it and ask questions. They find out about Spencer and the reader who then punishes Spencer when they get home.

Gender: male, he/him, male/male relapgionship.

Warnings: dom/sub, degradation, male/male, gags, bondage/tied up, rules, mention of subdrop (Spencer doesn't go through it), overthinking, teasing (workplace and sexually), use of ‘sir’, ‘baby boy’, ‘baby’, ‘little boy’, ‘pet’.

———

“S-sir please!” Spencer had begged, though through his gag it sounded more like, “thir plth!”, but you knew what the poor boy was trying to say.

“Are you sorry baby?” you asked quietly into Spencer's ear, the bed dipped as you untied your boyfriends ankles before lifting his butt and thighs slightly to get into a prefered position, scooting closer to line yourself with Spencer's entrance. The poor boy nodded aggressively.

“I'm sorry!” Spencer had said, but again, through the poor gag it more sounded like “um sothy!” drool dribbled down Spencer's chin and if he wasn't in such a submissive headspace he would have probably asked you to wipe it off.

“For what my little boy?” you asked again, Spencer's hips wiggled against your tip but you forced his pelvis down with your hands so he couldn't move. This time you decided to give Spencer a little leeway and took off the gag, discarding it somewhere on the bed as Spencer licked his dry lips and finally swallowed properly, his throat scratchy and dry.

“For forgetting the rules,” Spencer took a breath as you slowly started thrusting your hips against Spencer's hole, your tip barely grazing his entrance, “I-I didn't shave down there recently, i forgot my place before-shit- before you when you entered the apartment, i spoke out of turn-”

“Enough!” Spencer was quick to shut his mouth, “I'm bored,” you said with an evil grin. Spencer immediately knew what you were going to do and tried his best to not tense any part of his body, instead relaxing as much as he could as he looked at you with passion and wanting. You slowly guided yourself to Spencer's hole, pushing in slowly until your tip was enclosed within Spencer, you hummed.

“Mm, even just the tip and you’re so tight baby, you gonna be good for me?” you questioned as your hips rocked back and forth softly, not going in nor out, “gonna be a good little boy for me hmm?” Spencer nodded.

“Yes sir, p-please,” Spencer whimpered softly.

“Are you going to be good next time?” you questioned again, slowly starting to inch you way further into Spencer.

“Promise sir!” Spencer exclaimed harshly as you pistoned your hips forward quickly, sheathing yourself inside Spencer instantly, the pair of your groaning provocatively at the feeling. Spencer was quick to tug at the restraints on his wrists and arms as you pounded into the poor boy, him whimpering sweetly under you.

“Oh you poor baby, you’re not gonna last are you?” you quizzed, your thrusts quickened as you started hitting that one spot in Spencer that made him go wild. His groans got louder soon turning into moans and obnoxious gasps.

“Please, please please please sir,” Spencer begged, your hips pistoned against Spencer, skin slapping skin was the sound that echoed the room as well as the co owned moans, groans, whimpers and whines coming from the pair of you.

“Come for me sweetheart, only you will come for me when I tell you to, got it?” you growled into Spencer's ear, your hand on the underside of Spencer's jaw.

“O-only you sir!” Spencer rasped, his throat raw from the past few hours as both his and your orgasms rocked your bodies, Spencer's legs quaked beneath you from his bent position as his cum spilled onto his stomach and chest, yours spilling into his occupied hole.

------

The next day Spencer waddled into the bullpen; a slight limp, a large scarf bundled around his neck as well as a long sleeved coat. Spencer winced every time his arms or shoulders moved (even simply moving a folder from one side of his desk to the other side), or when Morgan clapped him on the back, or J.J. nudged him at the kitchen bench, bending down to pick up the stupid little pink and blue paperclips that have fallen to the fucking-

“Spencer?” J.J. 's voice was suddenly next to Spencer, causing him to suddenly stand and wince from the fast action, “you’ve...you've been wincing all day, are you okay?” she was concerned.

“Yeah just uh, just a hard gym session is all,” Spencer tried to cover, his eyes flitting around J.J., of course the blonde took notice of this.

“Gym?” she questioned.

“Pretty boy you don't go to the gym,” Derek chastised suddenly joining the conversation with Emily at his side.

“I've never seen you go past the coffee shop up the road from here let alone a gym,” Emily chimed, Spencer groaned inwardly as he started to get crowded.

“Baby, you’re going to the gym?” you suddenly materialized out of thin air with a small evidence box likely packed with the things from your desk; you had finally gotten your own office and only just started moving in.

“Yep!” Spencer was quick to agree.

“You never told me,” you were quick to take out his lie, “how long?”

“Um, a little while?” Spencer seemed to question his own lie.

“A little while?” Derek echoed, then it seemed like everything clicked as Derek's eyes widened, “NO WAY!”

“What! What, what, what!” Emily and J.J asked quickly.

“Doctor Genius here is having a little too much fun with the other genius!” Derek looked at you as Spencer went red. You shrugged.

“What of it?” Spencer didn't expect that to be your answer, then again, they also didn't actually, really know what happened behind closed curtains.

“Damn okay! I didn't know you two where that kink-”

“Derek come on” Emily chastised this time, she nudged the poor man away from the group as J.J. gave the two of you a knowing look and walked away as well. Spencer was still red as he sat back down at his desk, wincing of course, before you lent down and whispered in his ear.

“They don't know how much of a good little slut you are for me do they?,” you paused as you bit the shell of Spencer's ear, “I don't think they ever will,” as you walked away Spencer had decided then and there that he was not going to be your ‘good little slut’ as he concocted a plan.

Spencer calculated the exact time to turn around, the exact velocity and the exact angle in order to spill his just made, lukewarm, coffee on you. Knowing you hadn't repacked your newest go-bag, meaning you’d have to ask for one of Spencers shirts for the rest of the day.

“I’m so sorry!” Spencer exclaimed, the coffee was going straight through your shirt and showed off your chest, the poor boy almost forgot his plans entirely when he saw the dagger necklace you wore under your shirt.

“It's!” you huffed as you held the shirt between two fingers and away from your skin, “it's fine Spence really, i just need a new shirt is all,” you huffed again at the realisation you didn't have your go-bag repacked.

“You can use one of mine,” Spencer had said seemingly reading your mind, you nodded, Spencer walked to his desk to get the clothing as you stalked off to the bathrooms in order to get changed.

For the next hour Spencer started the second part of his plan; constantly annoying you while you try to work on paper profiles and student FBI work. He continuously brushed your shoulders every time he walked past your desk, always seemed to be breaking his pencils or loosing his pens, he seemed even more clumsier than usual, he ate over your shoulder resulting in sugar crumbs from his donut to fall onto your paper, constantly tried to recommend other words to use on your papers or claiming that what you were writing didn't actually happen (it did happen and you both knew he knew that).

That went on for three hours, by the second hour it really started getting to you to the point you almost snapped at Spencer in the worst way possible. Spencer had just recommended a new word for your paper when you almost broke.

“Spencer Reid, you know your rul-!” you cut yourself off before you could say ‘rules’, your face was flushed red from anger as Spencer tried not to grin and you instead settled for a glare as the team around you gave confused glances.

“I didn't hear you (Y/n) what’d you say?” Spencer asked innocently as he came closer to you due to ‘the room being too loud to hear you from over here (Y/n)’. You almost bent Spencer over your desk in that moment as everyone started going back to their own work and you whispered into Spencer's ear.

“If i had my office by now you would be stuffed under my desk with my cock so far in your mouth you wouldn't be able to talk while i talked to anyone who came in and did my paperwork,” you took a breath as you saw Spencer visibly gulp, “then i would have you kneeling on the ground, naked and gagged with your hands tied behind you and your calves tied to your thighs so you couldnt move so that anyone who walked into the room could see how fucking desperate you are with your stupid fucking little hard on,” Spencer whimpered softly at the image, “either that or I’d have you spread out with that little hole on display for everyone to see with ‘dont fucking touch’ in marker across your thigh with an arrow pointing to what is rightfully mine,” for a final blow you added, “learn to stay in your fucking place,” before walking away to the file room, leaving Spencer with a very prominent hard on.

For the rest of the day Spencer and you ignored each other, leaving a thick and heavy tension in the air whenever the two of you passed each other or walked in the same room. Your face was stone cold as you worked whereas Spencer was more anxious.

“Alright what is up with you two?” Emily asked as she walked past your desk.

“What?” you asked with fake concern.

“You and Spencer,” Emily gave you a little hint.

“Oh, nothing, just trying to get my work done is all,” and then you turned back to your work leaving Emily in the cold as she looked to Spencer (whose desk was in front of yours) and shrugged before walking off. Spencer knew exactly why you were ignoring him and it honestly scared him, maybe he had gone too far? Fuck where you going to leave him without anything tonight? He hadn't done anything like this before, he always stuck to the rules and almost never disobeyed them besides last night-

“Bye guys!” J.J. called out as she left. Spencer looked at the clock and sure enough he had been thinking of you for the past hour as his co-workers walked past him Spencer made sure to keep his eyes trained on you.

“Um, (Y/n)-”

“Go home, I have to finish some other files,” was your response. Spencer knew better than to try and talk over you or backtalk you even if he was in the workplace. He nodded stiffly as he started packing away his things and turning off his desktop before walking around to your desk and hesitantly leaving a dainty kiss on your cheek.

“I’m s-”

“I'll text you,”

“I love you,” Spencer seemed defeated when he said this, he had never acted this way and of course you never acted the way you are now, of course it’s different for the both of you but Spencer was starting to think maybe it wasn't such a good idea, maybe you didn't love him anymore, maybe he’s gone too fa-

“Baby,” your voice called Spencer from his thoughts as he realised you've been trying to ground him for the past thirty seconds. Your hands held Spencers as you looked into his eyes seeing every emotion welling within him, “I love you too sweetheart,” your smile was as sweet as your words, reassuring, “if you go into sub drop then you tell me okay?” Spencer nodded softly but you tugged on his hands to refocus the poor boy.

“I promise,” you nodded.

“I'll text you my pet,” your hand came up to caress Spencer's cheek, your boyfriend leaning into the touch, “now go,”. Spencer got the text when he stepped onto the train to head home, reading it made him flush red while trying to use his satchel to cover his bulge.

Sir <3, 7:23PM.

I want you naked and bent over the bench blindfolded.

Fuuuccckkkkk, he was definitely in for it tonight.

-------

The sight that laid before you was immaculate and like no other you had seen before; Spencer Reid, your Spencer Reid, was bent over the black velvet bench right in front of your shared bed, blindfolded, which was probably the best part. With the way Spencer positioned himself he was facing away from you and wouldn't be able to see you unless he took off the blindfold, but of course, being the good boy Spencer was he had (somehow) handcuffed himself to the ends of the bench and was spread like a starfish aside from his legs. This also got him off on humiliation. A whimper escaped the poor boy as your fingers dragged against Spencer's bare cheeks.

“Wow, you really are such a good boy aren't you?” you questioned softly, you could feel Spencer shiver under your fingers as you spread his cheeks slightly and tutted, “weeping for this aren't you darling?”

“I-”

SMACK.

“ONE!” Spencer was quick to exclaim; he knew to count how many you would be giving him without you asking.

“I've trained you well pet haven't i?,” it was rhetorical as your psalm grazed over Spencer's burning cheek, he nodded in response.

“Your good boy,” Spencer whispered.

“No.” you chuckled as you kept dragging your nails over Spencer's back and cheeks, “no you aren't a good boy,”

“What? But i-” Spencer was quick to shut his mouth with a hiss as you scratched his back, leaving harsh red lines in your wake.

“At approximately 10 am this morning you spilt coffee on me, forcing me to wear one of your shirts with the knowledge my go-back wasn't repacked”

SMACK

“For the next three hours you proceeded to be a naughty little boy by constantly chewing over my shoulder,”

SMACK

“Dropping crumbs onto my papers and my lap,”

SMACK

“Brushing my shoulder whenever we walked past one another,”

SMACK

“Constantly gave me new words and phrases for my papers even when you knew my paper was up to better standards than others,”

SMACK

“You constantly dropped pens in front of me and broke pencils just to ask me for another one,”

SMACK

“You have been all over me today, antagonizing me, annoying me…” you trailed off at the end of your sentence as you soothed the red markings on Spencer's cheeks.

“I-i’m sorry” Spencer mumbled, you chose to ignore it.

“So thick and heavy for me already baby boy,” you whispered behind Spencer as you cupped his dick, giving it a few strokes before walking away from him. Spencer whimpered at the loss of touch before picking back up into a whine as you placed something around the base of his cock. It was the purple vibrating cockring you bought Spencer eight months ago.

“FUCK!” Spencer exclaimed as quick thrumming virbarations sent their way through the base of Spencer's dick all the way to the tip of his tongue.

SMACK

“You gonna be a good boy for once and count for me slut?” you rhetorically asked, rubbing a palm over Spencer's reddened cheeks. He nodded.

SMACK

“Fucking answer me,” you gripped the pack of Spencers neck and caused him to bend backwards awkwardly, shoulders and joints popping as they ached from the angle.

“I’ll count sir” Spencer said breathlessly, you forced Spencer's head back down to its original position before you continued the punishment.

SMACK

“One!”

SMACK

“Two!”

SMACK

“TH-THREE!”

SMACK

“Four!”

And more, and more and more.

“TWENTY!”

By this time Spencer was panting as his cheeks were painted a deep red and-

“Did you just fucking cum?” you questioned as Spencer shook on the bench, drool dripping from his chin and onto the bed below him. He whimpered.

“Y-yes sir” Spencer whimpered as his thighs shook, as you looked down at the blankets in front of Spencer there, sure enough, was his load. The poor boy whimpered from the overstimulation as the cockring continued to thrum agaisnt the base of his cock.

“I should've known you'd come from a simple punishment like this,” you shook your head in disbelief, that was when you started unbuckling Spencer's handcuffs.

“S-sir?” Spencer didn't dare move after you finished unbuckling his restraints.

“Clean up your mess brat, use your tongue and mouth to find your fucking mess and clean it up.” you grinned as you watched Spencer struggle from his bent over position (his bones and muscles aching to be massaged and moved but refusing due to you standing behind him) before finally mouthing around on the quilt before finally finding his own taste, quickly lapping up everything he could, sucking the blanket into his mouth and teething at what started to stain into the blanket, while Spencer was preoccupied you quickly undressed as quietly as you could. When you were satisfied with the clean up you led Spencer to lay on his back on the soft mattress before taking off his blindfold and chucking it someplace in the room, Spencers eyes fluttered for a moment to get used to the sudden new burst of light before looking down and bulging upon seeing you naked.

“Have you learnt your lesson baby boy?” you questioned as you stuck a few fingers into your mouth, wetting them, before ghosting them over Spencers hole.

“Y-yes sir! I have sir! I promise sir!” Spencer quickly obeyed, shouting out your title in hopes to gain what he really wanted as his hips thrust up against your fingers.

“Promising something you can't keep huh?” you whispered before sticking two wet fingers into Spencer's hole, letting the boy feel the burn and the stretch, relishing in the slight choke he gave, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he pushed himself into the pillows for some sort of comfort.

“God sir please, please fuck me already. I'll be your good boy, i al-always will be i promise,” Spencer started to beg as you scissored your fingers in and out, “i'll always obey and i won't do what-what i did today, I-I’ll keep up with my schedule a-and shave, and I-i’ll be your good boy i promise,” the end of Spencers sentence was needy, whiny and oh so delicious. You slipped your fingers out of Spencer before lining yourself up, the poor boy looked down to watch.

“You sound so fucking good when you beg baby boy,” was all you said before you pushed into Spencer, the pair of you whined upon the intrusion before your hips became flush against Spencers ass. You grinned as you felt the vibrations of the cockring on your stomach.

“P-please take it o-off sir,” Spencer whimpered softly, “s-so close already” you kissed down Spencers neck, leaving love bites and purple bruises in your wake before finally giving into Spencers ask and taking the ring off, pushing a button and throwing it across the room somewhere amongst the clothing and blindfold. You kissed Spencer lovingly before starting to thrust shallowly, immediately Spencer keened as your thrusts sped up, wanting to reach your end and his own. It only took a few moments before your orgasms overtook you, shaking the pair of you to the core as Spencer spasmed onto yours and his chest as your cum spilled into his occupied hole. You both stayed like that for what felt like hours, breathing heavily into each other's ears before you started kissing down the side of Spencer's neck, the boy hummed in appreciation as your hands glided over Spencer's body, gripping and massaging whatever it touched to spread relaxation.

“You did so good baby,” you whispered into Spencer's neck, the boy whined in response as you continued kissing down his torso before finally unsheathing yourself from Spencer and moving towards the adjoined bathroom. You let a cloth become warm under the water before moving back to Spencer and cleaning up the mess you both made, “so proud of you baby, you took everything so well,” you kissed up from Spencers calves to his thighs, hips, stomach, torso, collarbone, neck and then peppering constant kisses on the apples of Spencers cheeks, across his nose, forehead and chin causing the worn out boy to laugh with the little strength he had left. You put the cloth on the bedside table before turning back to Spencer and cuddling him close to your chest, “you okay sweetness?”.

“Very,” Spencer gasped out, throat raspy from his moans, “I'm sorry for today…” Spencer whispered softly as he tried to cuddle closer into you, a sign of insecurity.

“It's okay baby, was it anything I did?” you questioned quickly, hoping you hadn't hurt Spencer in a way he didn't like.

“No, not you,” he paused, “i think i just wanted this,” Spencer looked up at you as you smiled down at him, “i just didn't like the cold shoulder we gave each other is all…” you nodded as you started bringing the blankets onto your bodies, shielding yourself from the cold night.

“Did you want to promise never to cold shoulder each other again?” you asked, Spencer nodded as he held up his pinky finger, you smiled and linked it with yours before ducking down and giving Spencer a reassuring kiss.

“I love you bubby,”

“I love you too sweetheart,”

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qvid-pro-qvo · 4 years ago

Note

Whoops sorry with Hotch please!

“it’s okay, i couldn’t sleep anyway.”/”and even if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay – i’m always going to be here for you.”

aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader. @crazyshannonigans asked me to tag her, so this is also for you, my love.

word count: 1568

rating: teen, for unrequited feelings that lay dormant as long as you force them to (tw: for mentioned hospitalization, mentions of canon-typical violence).

You sit across from him. It’s a spot you settle into often, one that almost seems to have your name on it. He’s not watching you, his eyes on his papers, but you find yourself watching him, lower lip caught in your teeth.

You touch your foot to his leg. A gentle nudge, and he looks up at you from the case files. The flight there, photos are strewn about, passed around from agent to agent to analyst to agent. Rides back each is in its proper place. You watch his finger trace along the edge of one of them, paperclipped to another job well done, and smile as he quirks his lips at you.

“Take a break,” you say. It’s for naught, you know, but you always try. “We did good out there. Give your brain a rest.”

“When we land,” he assures you.

You nudge him again. Your shoes are off, at the base of your chair, so it’s a socked toe that pressing against his calf. “Hotch. A break. We deserve it.”

You deserve it, you think, watching as his finger traces the edge of papers again.

The rest of the plane is in various states of consciousness, focus. Reid and Blake are dozing, leaning against each other on the other side of the aisle. Rossi is across from them, and you can see he’s jotting down some notes – another book, perhaps on the horizon. JJ is on the phone with Garcia, and Morgan keeps letting out little chuckles as they talk.

It’s easy. Simple. When the cases end well, you have to savor these moments. You suppose, that’s what you’re urging Hotch to do. Enjoy the good, the wins, while he can. You want him to be able to lean back in his seat and realize what he does, what he always does, is so good and worthy of a little respite.

He doesn’t say anything more. Just looks at you, measured. Lifts his chin a little, and takes his own moment to glance around the plane.

You don’t miss the way his eyes soften at the sound of gentle laughter. Of Rossi’s scribbling. Of Reid’s steady breathing, Blake minutely adjusting her head so it can rest on top of his.

“Maybe later,” he murmurs. And all you can do is nod. Relent.

Okay. Maybe later.

The complimentary coffee is acrid, burns your throat, but you keep sipping. What else can you do at 2:30 in the morning? The hotel lobby is barren, your only companion the night shift clerk behind the desk and the TV that’s playing on silent. Every so often your eyes meet, and he always nods, giving you a small smile that you return. And every so often, you sip your coffee, the vile taste washing away the night’s dreams that woke you up in the first place.

It’s decaf. You think it is, anyway.

You have a plan. Of course you do. You’ll linger for another hour or so, let the adrenaline settle before going back upstairs. You’ll attempt to sleep, but the blinds will stay open so that when the dawn comes you rise with it. You’ll kill time with a shower, another cup of shitty coffee, and come downstairs with bags under your eyes that no one will ask about. Because it’s the end of a week on this case, and they’re all feeling it, too.

Enter Aaron Hotchner.

Perhaps he has the same plan as you. The lobby as a place for refuge. You almost feel bad for getting there first, and when your eyes meet his you simply lift up your cup of coffee as a greeting.

At first you think he straightens. Pulls his shoulders back so he can look the perfect unit chief. But it’s you. And he knows that. So, when he sits across from you, the too big chairs with not enough cushion catching him, he lets the act fall. Just a little. Just enough.

You have a plan. You know you do. But seeing him across from you, a little defeated, a lot exhausted, as you reaching out with your toes. Nudging him.

One eye open, peeking at you. You manage a little smile before offering the cup of coffee over, the contents still ripping hot even in the Styrofoam.

“Want some?”

“Decaf?”

You nod, and he sits up, reaching for it. You spend a few minutes, just passing the cup back and forth, the both of managing to wince every time you taste it. It truly is bad coffee, but the company makes it better, the silence comfortable as you watch a basketball game from a decade ago play out.

Every so often you glance over at him. When the coffee’s gone and the game nears its finish. And he glances back, leaning back

“I had a plan,” you admit, as the two of you wander back toward the elevators. He looks up at you, raising a brow, and you’re quick to reassure him. “It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway, so it wouldn’t have worked out. Just. Somehow I feel more rested now than I would if I had tried to sleep in the first place.”

That’s the moment you both have to pause, think about why three hours of sitting and sipping cooling coffee feels so… noteworthy. “So do I,” Hotch tells you. And he shoots you a little smile, ducking his head. “Goodnight.”

“Night, Hotch.”

The moments in that hotel lobby leave your heart full. Leave you looking over your shoulder, watching him make his way to the end of the hall. But, the sun is almost up. The rest of the team will be waking, and these moments should be just for you.t

You think about calling out to him. Of – god, of saying something, anything. He meets your eyes. As he pulls out the key card to his room, pushes in.

It’s okay. Maybe later.

Aaron Hotchner collapses, and your heart hasn’t stopped pounding.

It seems to happen in slow motion. He hits the ground, can’t stop himself at all, and you’re rushing to his side with Morgan and Rossi and praying that he’s alive. You watch as they take him away, you watch as Rossi pushes you guys forward, and the whole time you can’t stop gripping the armrest of your chair on that damn flight to nowhere.

The case goes on. The case has to go on. You’re on a plane, however many miles away, and Hotch is bleeding internally in a hospital on the other side of the country.

The bastard.

You haven’t been able to unclench your jaw, and it doesn’t help that this case makes your soul ache. You watch a girl get caught in her father’s deterioration, watch JJ talk him down before he gets dragged away. It doesn’t end how it could, but you watch a young girl get pulled apart and wonder if she’ll ever get put back together.

And then you get the call.

“He’s awake,” Garcia tells you. Tells the team. There are collective sighs of relief, collective moments of peace.

And then it hits. You feel the urge. The need. To be there. To be beside him.

It claws at you, grabs at you, and you know you won’t mind the silence if he’s asleep. It clings to you, lingers in your mind, and all you can think about is reaching out to him. Urging him once more.

Take a break. Take a moment. A breather, god, please, Hotch.

But you can’t. You know you can’t. It’s the punishment, you guess. For not telling him at the hotel. It’s the feeling of sitting beside him while the rest of the team watches on, of looking at him look at all of you and meeting your eyes. Of quirking his lips and reaching for the water you offer him. You can’t press your toes to his leg, but you can rest your hand on his arm, squeeze it and smile and tell him to get better soon. That’s all it is, all it can be, and yet your eyes scan him and your heart urges you.

Say something.

But you can’t.

The team is there. Jess and Jack are there, Beth is coming and she’ll be there soon, and you just. You swallow down what you want to say because it’s easier. Simpler.

And at home, in your bed, when the team clears out so his family can be the ones beside him, you close your eyes. You imagine something better, something brighter, something braver.

Do you call him? Do you tell him? Do you put him on speaker with your nail caught between your teeth? Do you pour out your soul and tell him what he means to you?

“I see you and I think of quiet moments on the jet. I see you and I laugh at time spent in hotel lobbies. I think about the way you look at me, and I can’t help but wonder what it means. You collapse on the ground and my earth is off its axis. And even if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay – I’m always going to be here for you because those moments keep me going. Let me be there for you, Aaron.”

Your eyes open. You take a breath.

No. You don’t. Not now. Not yet.

Maybe later.

(Maybe never.)

#prompt fill #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #gender neutral reader #criminal minds #my fic #tw hospitals #unrequited love

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haxorus-imp · 4 years ago

Text

Human Perspective - Reader LBP fic

Gender neutral Reader - No romance - Little Big Planet - No dialogue

A human is lost in the imagisphere and is struggling to cope with their new surroundings. AO3 for those that prefer to read it there - > https://archiveofourown.org/works/28741977

You really don’t remember how you arrived here in this strange place. One moment you were resting peacefully, the next thing you know, you were being woken up by a small little humanoid fabric creature.

Once your eyes focused, you had gotten startled upright from the presence of the being, which was obviously understandable. In a hurry, you scoot away from the being and frantically look around. Despite just waking up, it took mere moments for you to realize that something was completely off about the land you were in...let alone how you got there. You were left completely dumbfounded. The small little humanoid seemed a bit worried about you, despite just meeting you.

Flustered, your confusion only grew when you tried to ask the little creature where you were and it simply spoke in sign language. Which you didn’t understand. Seeing your expression of complete loss, the little being thought for a moment before it decided to wave at you in a ‘follow me’ motion as they turned and waddled away. Still lost and confused, you really didn’t have a choice.

You picked yourself up and followed the little being through some garden-like areas before the landscape began to change and buildings made out of wood and cardboard slowly appeared. While on the walk over to who-knows-where, you decided to slightly distract yourself with looking around at your surroundings.

It was strange, as it almost felt like you were back home on Earth. However, this was far from the case. An example of your strange predicament lies in the horizon and around yourself. It was all made of fabric...just like the ground was...with an exception of other things. Like the cardboard buildings and creatures that dwelled nearby, as well as the fabric clouds that floated on by. The only thing that could be deemed ‘normal’ around here, at least to you, was the water that flowed in the rivers under the bridges you two passed by. Everything was strangely made to look like projects of arts and crafts.

Not even the locals were exempted from this rule. As the little creature that was leading you somewhere was made entirely of knitted wool. I just left you puzzled and completely stumped at where you even were.

But hopefully this little biped would be able to provide some answers. Your first set of strange contacts was with a small group that the little sack...thing...person...was leading you towards. Your approach didn’t go unnoticed. Once you and the little creature arrived, the three figures were giving you wary glances. But the little sackperson stepped forward and began to sign to them. It was quite a surprise to learn that these larger beings seemed to be British...despite this place not looking like Earth. A bit of back and forth later and you finally managed to introduce yourself and explain your situation to the three larger beings. In which, they introduced themselves to you as well.

There was Larry Da Vinci, an elderly individual with a paper beard and cardboard 3D glasses, who seemed to be rather forgetful, as it took him a moment to remember his own name before the bun-having blonde next to him spoke up.

Her name was Victoria, who had doll-like features and a steampunk-inspired body. She also seemed to be very polite too. Despite being an older female, her and Da Vinci even seemed to be a thing. If the sweet-based names he kept calling her had anything to say for it.

Then there was a rather depressed-looking individual named Clive, who was a man with an eraser for a body and a cyan desk calendar for a head, which was just to name a few things that caught your eye about him. It was just so strange to see paperclips merely sticking to a body without an anchor. But he was still polite none-the-less, even if he wasn’t as enthusiastic as Larry or Victoria.

As for yourself? Well, you were a human. Made of flesh and blood, unlike the natives of this realm you happened to get lost in. It wasn’t hard to take notice of how the others would look at you strangely from time to time.

Not only just because you showed up out of nowhere, but because your appearance just seemed...as that Ginger-Haired prideful loudmouth ‘Avalon’ would put it - “Highly suspicious-looking”. You didn’t think you looked that bad...or creepy. So, you just played down their doubts by just explaining that you're from very far away and that you were lost. It took a bit of convincing from Sackthing to see if Larry had any leads on what to do.

Many of them acted like they had never seen a human before and it wasn’t hard to see why. I mean, they even thought you looked ill and took you to an apple-headed nurse, who was strangely in a birdcage of all things, named Eve to have a look at you. She apparently tried to find your ‘stitching’, which took you awhile to explain that you weren’t born with ‘stitching’. She seemed completely lost with your explanation on a normal human body and she did some typical tests. Took your temperature, tested your reflexes, and gave you a few psychological tests. All came back okay, showing that you were in fact a perfectly normal human being. Even if she seemed slightly disappointed. The rest of the time was spent visiting the other creators once word got around that a unique stranger was visiting Craftworld from ‘very far away’. Despite meeting a fair chunk of them within the first few hours.

It was most likely Avalon who let the cat out of the bag, the dude probably can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. If your first encounter with him had anything to say about it. Dude even had the nerve to call you a ‘rubbery-looking tall weirdo’.

Thankfully, Larry chewed him out for his rudeness before you could. So one by one, you met the creator curators and visited their homelands with Larry as your guide, since sackthing had other duties to attend to at the time.

It was quite an exhausting trip. Thankfully most of the realms could be accessed by rocketships that were provided by Larry Da Vinci. Yes, rocketships. Made out of cardboard...with a jet attached to them.

You didn’t understand how they worked, so you pretty much just went with it and didn’t ask any questions. Each encounter was as unique as they came as you headed off to the other parts of Craftworld with Larry. Your first encounter was with the lovely baker you met before, Victoria. She was very interesting to say the least, having a lab and bakery hybrid that she called home. She explored the possibilities of pastries and science. A strange combination. She even tried to offer you some of her baked goods, which you sadly discovered you couldn’t eat. At all . You just couldn’t force yourself to eat a literal SPONGE cake, so you had to turn her down gently but gratefully thanked her for the offer anyway. After that was Clive, the same depressed individual from earlier. You eventually discover that he has lived in a factory for most of his life and just knows the day in and day out of being at work constantly. No wonder the poor sap was so blue. He obviously needed a long vacation. After a typical meet and greet, you toured the factory he called home and had a lot of fun watching how things operated while Clive rambled on and on about work and various activities he would perform around the factory. You even got to meet the cute little sackbots while you were there. Which was a pleasant experience in itself! After that was Eve’s Asylum where she and Professor Higginbottom were located. You met Higginbottom at the Asylum. Which was probably the strangest thing you have ever experienced...aside from being lost in this fabric dimension. He seemed like someone who got into the bong and never came out. Though, listening to him talk was quite entertaining. Even if you didn’t understand anything that came from his mouth. Eve was present there as well. Despite the underwhelming encounter from earlier, Eve was still elated to observe you and see how you were coping. She apparently ran the asylum that was filled with beautiful flora, magical trees, and crazy people. Which wasn’t a surprise, but you were just happy that they were under the care of someone as loving as Eve. Even if she got a bit frustrated that she couldn’t make heads or tails about your ‘strange biology predicament’. Even with an unnecessary ‘second analysis’. Then finally, there was Avalon. The dude was about as loud and as arrogant as they came.

However, he pushed it to a point where he made it endearing rather than annoying, but your traveling companion could beg to differ. It seemed that Larry and Avalon had a lot of disagreements on who was the leader of “The Alliance”. Whatever that was. Both of them mixed like oil and vinegar, like broccoli and pizza, like boomers and millennials...it was honestly kinda funny to watch them bicker. However, you haven’t forgotten that rude comment he made about you. So you were still on the fence with him. Still, Avalonia was a wonderful place to visit. Looking at all of the strange gadgets that were made, the types of vehicles, and the sheer ethereal aura that the place radiated...Avalon really did have a strong reason to flex after all.

But as fun as it was to visit these Curators, you still needed to find your way home. Plus, you had to keep moving if you were going to be able to find anything to eat.

I mean, you have been offered food on numerous occasions while on your trip, however it wasn’t anything you could actually eat. ‘Sponge’ cakes, icing that was too sweet, jam that was too sticky, crackers that were made of cardboard, cookies made out of paper, fruit made out of fabric or plastic… It was all fake...and you were starting to starve.

Your lack of eating also seemed to worry Larry, but you feigned being fine. Despite the fact that you hadn’t really eaten in days. It was wearing down on you pretty bad at this point. Despite your lie, Larry seemed to still be lost on what to do with you. You honestly couldn’t blame him though. You were quite an enigma. Then, Larry was reminded of something and had explained that he was going to go to a place called Bunkum to attend a session in a place called Popit Academy and graciously offered if you wanted to visit while he was participating. At that time, you really didn’t know that you could explore other planets...but this was a strange new universe with strange new ways. So what could possibly go wrong?

So, from one planet made of patches to one with strange gadgets on it, you arrive at a place called “Needlepoint Peaks”.

Which was filled with crisp mountain air and little floating objects that harassed you at every angle. It was quite frustrating, as they would cling to you and you would have to constantly shake them loose. It seemed to amuse Larry to the point of chuckling as you both headed down the mountain together. While on the way, you even decided to take a bite out of the crackers that were sticking out of the ground. Which turned out to be a big mistake.

The ‘treat’ was about as stale as they come. It was hard to chew and it had the lingering scent of cardboard and dust. You promptly spat it out and coughed violently while Larry looked at you like you had lost your marbles.

Despite everything looking tasty, it was all dried and stale, nothing more than deceptive decorations for your ever growing hunger that gnawed away at you from your insides. You could only sigh helplessly as you passed the deceptive goodies and just focused on following Larry to the next destination. Once down from the mountain, both of you arrived at a place called ‘Stitchem Manor’, which seemed to be occupied by two lightbulbs and a monster. The family greeted Larry and seemed to notice you, despite you attempting to hide your taller figure behind the Elder Curator. The smaller lightbulb seemed to be very eager to meet you, as he strode up and waved and said a rather friendly hello. You timidly come out of hiding and meet up with him too. Returning the greeting politely. The lightbulb seems to happily chitter about as you stare at him. He then graciously introduces you to his father, a clear idol in his eyes, and his mother. Who wasn’t a monster. She just looked scary as hell.

You politely greet them in return and Larry explains your situation to the family. It seemed that Larry had decided to see if you could visit with the Pud family, which was a rather strange name, until he was through with his lessons at the popit academy. Seeing if one of them was available to show you around Bunkum until he came back later. You almost rolled your eyes at the thought of needing a guide or babysitter, but you didn’t know this place. So you really should stick with someone until you understand the ropes. The younger-looking lightbulb, who was named Newton, proudly volunteers to show you around Bunkum. A desire to give his ‘new strange-looking chum the best tour of Bunkum they have ever experienced’. So he says. Apparently, his parents were both worried about his proposal. Not because of you, but apparently Newton had caused a heap of trouble for the natives of Bunkum and was still in too-hot water because of it. Despite making peace with most of the locals and trying to clear his name from the titan incident...whatever that was. It sounds bad just by the name alone.

However, after enough begging, his parents gave in and decided to allow him to show you around Bunkum. Satisfied with the ordeal, Larry had headed off and Newton’s parents headed back inside the large manor.

Once alone, Newton had grabbed your hand before suddenly letting go in surprise. When questioned, he just stared and made a comment about how your ‘knitting’ felt strange against his hands. You just merely shrugged and walked ahead, Newton quickly taking the lead again as he rambled on and on about stuff to do while you were visiting.

The first stop was Manglewood. Which could only be reached by boat. Which just made the ride over much more boring than usual, except when Newton would talk about it and mention all the things to do there. It helped to pass the time until the island in question came into view. By appearance alone, you would’ve thought you both were lost in some bayou in the heart of Louisiana, but that wasn’t far enough from the truth. There were film reels, movie cameras, and set pieces all strewn about the landscape. Making it look like a set that was covered in moss and willows. However, you also took notice of a strange figure sitting at the edge of the landmass. Simply sitting there and watching the boat. Once close enough, you seemed to make out that it appeared to be...dog-like? Like a sock puppet type of dog? It was just waiting there and once you both touched down on land, it sped over to investigate. In which, it happily jumped aboard and sniffed around.

Once it glanced at Newton, it’s face changed to a certain type of disinterest but once it scanned over to you, it began to wag its’...butt...and bark happily. You confusedly look at the animal before waving and greeting the...dog-thing. Having it jump up on you and lick you with a fabric tongue, thankfully it didn’t seem to leave any slobber behind.

Newton explained that it was a creature called Oddsock and it seemed to be protecting Manglewood. He almost seemed a tad bit jealous that Oddsock had taken a liking to you so quickly, even if he didn’t show it openly.

He led you off of the boat and further into Manglewood, the dog sticking close to your side.

There, you both found a man who introduced himself as Marlon Random.

He was quite a character. Looking like a spool of film with a strange hairstyle to go with it, the dancing, the personality, the references to movies and such...he was probably the most enjoyable to be around. He didn’t even seem to mind Newton. Greeting him as if it was any other day, in which Newton had replied half-heartedly and explained your situation. Once Marlon heard of your plight, he stopped and looked at you closer. Taking notice of your strange appearance as well, he nods and laughs lightly. Eager to show Manglewood to you, despite Newtons’ protests. You had decided to visit the space area and discovered that floating in space was incredibly fun. The zero gravity, peaceful music playing in the background, and just the weightlessness of it all...it was truly an experience. After that, he took you over to the old-style diner. You jammed out to some old-style tunes, which strangely came from Earth of all places, and you even tried to take a few bites out of the food laying around. Getting the same result as the one from Needlepoint Peaks. You even tried the milkshakes. Which were SO SWEET. Too sweet even!

It was like everything around here was made out of two dumptruck loads of sugar. Plus, you couldn’t really force past it, as it was strong enough to hurt your teeth anyway. One secret spit out later and you lot had decided to settle in for a bite.

With the exemption of you. So while Newton, Marlon, and even Oddsock enjoyed the food...you found yourself without a meal yet again. Your aching belly rumbling in disdain as you sigh quietly. You just had to endure for a bit longer...you would get home soon...hopefully. Thankfully there was water to drink. So you had that instead. Still, you had a kick watching Newton shove fries and pieces of food into that hole in his neck. Which made sense, as he simply couldn’t shove it past the glass that covered his head. It just made you wish you could enjoy it with them...wait...why were they looking at you...why were they laughing --? A tickling sensation pretty much crawled around you as those bothersome floating objects began to stick to you again, resulting in you crying out in agitation and shaking about in the seat to dislodge them. Your companions seemed to find the situation hilarious as you pluck them off and flick them away from yourself. Huffing a bit at your group as they laugh at your grumpiness. But once it was all said and done, the last places being too ‘dangerous’ for you to explore, you both decided it would be time to head out to the Ziggurat. You would’ve headed to a place called ‘Zom Zom’s’ however Newton explained that he only took a special type of currency called ‘collectabells’, which got a chuckle out of you. Sadly, you didn’t really have any currency at all. So you skipped on going there. He probably wouldn’t have anything in your size anyway. So, both of you cross the bridge and ride the gondola into the distance while Marlon and Oddsock waved you both off. In no time at all, the temperature began to drop and snow began to fall from the sky. The wind from the gondola didn’t help the situation either, your clothes could barely keep out the chill. Newton didn’t seem bothered by it, which wasn’t a surprise to you. That fluffy coat he was wearing looked comfortable.

You would ask to wear it, but it was just too small for you. Plus, Lightbulbs radiate heat, so he was probably all warm and toasty underneath that fabric. Talk about being lucky.

Finally, the gondola came to a hill and along that hill seemed to be a towering figure. It almost looked like a burlap sack...like something you would shove potatoes in. Once closer though, it seemed similar to the last creature you encountered.

If logical reasoning could be fathomed here, that must be this land’s protector as well. Seeing by how they grew alert to the approaching elevator. Once it stopped and you and Newton stepped off, the large figure approached curiously. Similar to before, the creature met Newton with a poker face about as blank as the snow, but he gave you a rather silly smile once he looked in your general direction. What you didn’t expect was a large friendly hug to accompany that smile. You were pretty much scooped up and pressed against the taught cloth-chest of the large figure, gasping for air as it cuddled you. Newton began by explaining that this was the Ziggurat, which also happened to be Toggles’ home. Which was the name of the creature hugging you. He told you about the grand library and the ballets that would be held here every day and that hopefully you would enjoy the shows while you both were here. With a few desperate taps on Toggle, you were released and were finally able to get a full breath of air. You almost felt bad for Toggle’s worried face, but a reassured pat on their arm seemed to make them satisfied that you were okay. You walk along, following Newton as he gives you a brief tour of the entrance. Toggle following close behind you both as you walk towards a large and towering brass-like structure that was the centerpiece of this frozen wasteland.

Then, you met Papal Mache in the temple sanctum. Who gave Newton a rather skeptical glance after your arrival before staring at you for a brief moment. Once again, another remark on your appearance was made.

It almost made you wanna put a bag over your head and hide away from the world.

And what is with everyone asking where your ‘stitching’ was? You’re not made of fabric!

You just let out another sigh as Newton repeated the spill from earlier encounters while you busied yourself by looking at the temple architecture. From the looks of it, it seemed to be the insides of a large pipe organ, with stained glass windows of ballerinas and russian-esque soldiers. Which made sense, as Russia was known for its musical culture and revered classics in the modern world. While you admired the art and such, Papal Mache seemed to understand and decided to escort you both down to the library. Which was being looked after by...a dog...woman...thing.

You simply just shake your head and decide to listen in on her history lessons that were offered to you, which were indubitably interesting and selectively inspiring.

Especially once you began to read some of the pamphlets that Toggle helped save from a flood. Toggle even stayed and sat down to listen to his heroic deeds for a bit. Out of curiosity, you pick up one of the pamphlets. No wonder the lady-dog would’ve been so upset to lose some of this history, it was pretty interesting! However, it was short-lived once Newton grew bored and pulled you away from the library with a rushed goodbye to the friendly dog lady. Nearly leaving Toggle behind. Only then did you realize how cold you were getting from the temperature after sitting still on a cold floor. You begin to shudder as the cold wind brushes against you and you slow down as the cold bites at your flesh.

Curiously, Newton had questioned what was wrong as you trembled helplessly in the frigid gales. Once you explained that humans can get something called hypothermia from excessive cold and die, Newton practically flipped his lid.

A quick grasp of your hand and he took off with you in tow.

He quickly rushed past Papal Mache and through the temple to get you to a large furnace on the other side.

Once close enough, you could feel the warmth of the furnace melting away the freezing ice that had wrapped itself around your body. Replacing it with warmth and comfort. Once at the entrance, you graciously sit down on the warmed metal and let out a blissful sigh of relief. You were pretty much scolded by Newton for not telling him earlier and a worried Papal Mache arrived on scene not much later. A brief questioning later and Papal figured it might be best if you don’t stay here too long. Not that he didn’t enjoy new visitors, but because you just weren’t equipped for such freezing temperatures. Which were even worse when night fell.

You nodded in understanding and let out a sigh of brief disappointment, but the snow was hard to endure at this point. Once you thawed out, you both would be heading to your final destination, Bunkum Lagoon.

The sound of small rapid footsteps grace your ears as a smaller version of the big guy came scuttling onto the scene. A brief slide later and suddenly it was the big guy again! Only then did you realize what ‘Toggle’ meant. It made you almost wanna laugh. Papal Mache decided to speak up to the large silent hero about your incident and Toggle seemed to become saddened by the news, but nodded in understanding anyway. You felt bad for such a rapid departure, but what else could be done? It was best to finish touring Bunkum so you could get back to Stitchem Manor so you could wait for Larry. Once you got warm enough, you stood up from the ground and Newton rejoined you as both of you walked back into the temple and towards the back where a large elevator awaited. Both of you got on and Papal Mache and Toggle waved their farewells as the elevator began to move and drop down. You had no idea how this would get you to a lagoon, but if you weren’t at the risk of getting hypothermia, you may like it a bit more… Newton seemed to be more apprehensive about this place, unlike the last two places you both visited. He began to talk about a wicked queen who probably boils her disrespectful subjects in hot oil and how she would probably tear him limb from limb if she as much as smelled him. You probably broke a sweat listening to his anxious worries about the next destination. Didn’t seem to be as peaceful as the last two places, just from what he was saying alone. You gulped as the air began to become more humid as the elevator slowed to a stop.

Once outside, the first thing your eyes caught was the sunset that was glistening over the very large lake that resided in a city filled with towering spires and buildings. You couldn’t hide a gasp of awe as you stepped out into the residential areas and admired the masquerade theme that the city had going for it. Plus, there were airships and clouds as far as your eyes could see. It was truly breathtaking. Newton slowly slinked out after you, scanning around as if to keep an eye out for danger. You had thrown caution to the wind as you walked out further into the Lagoon, Newton squeaking and following behind you for a change. You pretty much just happily stroll through the town, looking at all of the cardboard, stickers, and crafted creatures fluttering about. A stark contrast to a human like yourself.

Suddenly, a sudden shout came from above. The noise made Newton cry out in fear as he hid behind yourself as a hovering platform came into your view. On top of it was a marionette looking female as she called down to the both of you. From the tone of her voice, you already knew you weren’t gonna like her. Her tone was bratty and easily portrayed the type that she was. That type being a heavily spoilt princess that expected everyone to obey and respect them, despite them not deserving any. She was also being followed by another sack creature, this one resembling a bird. She immediately began to chew out Newton for one reason or another, you weren’t exactly paying attention as she hissed at your companion. It was almost like she was demanding an explanation as to why he was in ‘her’ kingdom. Newton had managed to pluck up enough courage to creep out from behind yourself as he explained your situation once more. About how you were from ‘very far away’ and a friend had asked if someone was willing to show Bunkum to the newcomer. Despite the fact that he tried to pass it off as him trying to make amends by doing this ‘tour’ with you. Despite the fact that he selflessly volunteered for it, no pressuring from his father or anything. Still, you said nothing as the ‘Queen of Bunkum’ introduced herself to you and you to Swoop, who had landed and was staring at you after giving Newton another neutral passing glance. It even almost seemed to flutter happily for a bit. It made you wonder why all of these sack creatures seemed to be happy to see you, but that can be pondered later. Right now, you just wanted to go and explore this last location before the night began to fall.

With courtesy, you bowed a bit and greeted Pinky. Being sure to call her ‘queen’ in a respectful manner. She looked like the type that was prone to suck-ups.

In which you assumed correctly. Almost seemingly flustered with your polite behavior, she cackles a bit before welcoming you to the Lagoon and ‘knowing fully well that you WILL enjoy your stay ’. However she does give you a warning to keep ‘that yellow ninny’ out of trouble, to which you assured her that she had nothing to be concerned for. Satisfied, she calls swoop back to her side and the levitating platform hovers off into the distance. A thankfully short encounter. Newton lets out a relieved sigh as you continue on. A desire to explore in your veins as the sun continues to set. It was kinda sad that you couldn’t hang out with the bird like you could the other two, but it probably has a job protecting the queen. Still, you continued on. Your lightbulb co-conspirator follows you from close behind. Just waiting to see what you decide to do with the rest of your day. And It was a rather eventful rest of the day.

Both you and Newton had attended various events. Such as an air joust festival, a puppet show, and you two even climbed the tallest tower in the district and listened to the bells of the tower ring. You even got to see the ‘legendary creative heart’, which was strangely disturbing. Despite it being just a giant valentine heart with large bird wings, it still pulsed like an actual heart. You honestly didn’t know how the locals could stand being next to it for so long. Even from this distance it was loud enough for you to hear. You just brush it off and try to ignore all of the bothersome floaty things that came from it. Hopefully none of them would stick to you. At the end of your trip, you both stopped on a pier to watch the sunset over the lagoon. The purple and pink clouds just brought out a tranquility in the atmosphere that almost made you forget about your troubles and your lingering sleepless exhaustion. Despite being here for about a few days, you were starving and getting any sleep was rather rare. Mostly since weird things would occur while you were dozing.

You fell asleep in the rocketship once and a large flower garden had grown up around you while you had slept and you only took notice when you woke up. It was hard to explain it to Larry. You even crashed in Clive’s factory and when you awakened, some new robots were by your side. Seemingly not made in the factory at all, as they didn’t even have the same body shape as the Sackbots. Clive was about as stumped as you were when you showed him. It was just...when you fell asleep, weird stuff would happen to you and the things that surrounded where you were sleeping. So now, you just try to stay awake as much as possible. Even if your eyelids felt like cinder blocks and tiredness nipped at your aching muscles. The thing that bothered you the most as your empty stomach.

If you couldn’t sleep nor eat, how would you even make it out of here?

There was no sustenance to keep you going. You’re pretty much running on emergency energy right now. Burning stored calories and trying to stay alive while you were at it. The constant insomnia was also wearing down on you. You just felt like you could fall asleep right here on the pier. But Newton jostles you awake by reminding you that you both had to head back to Stitchem Manor before night fell on Bunkum. You nod slowly in understanding and finally muster the strength to stand up with a long stretch. From there, Newton led the way back to his home. Leading back the way you came. Back up the mountain, back through the Ziggurat, back down the mountain, through the swamp again, and back to the boat. Once you both set sail, you watch the sinking sun with a lazy gaze.

It was quite a trip...but you really wish you were home. It wasn’t like you were miserable here. These strangers were so nice and open to you, despite your off-putting appearance. You just wished you had something to eat right now...and maybe a nap. Or a thousand year sleep, which would be far better. Still, Stitchem Manor came into view at the cliffside and you both began to dock the boat. By the time you both arrived home, the sky had turned to twilight as you slowly walked after Newton.

Who seemed to be rather jovial after todays ‘adventure’. Both Nana Pud and Captain Pud were there to greet you both at the gates of the manor, Larry Da Vinci was there as well. Seemingly having an idle chit chat while you both arrived. Once you two were noticed, you sluggishly came to a stand still next to Larry while Newton griped about being pampered by his doting mother. You and Larry couldn’t help but chuckle as you all said your goodnights and you and Larry headed away from the manor. You manage to look over your shoulder as the younger lightbulb seems to be happily waving to you while he and his parents go inside the manor. You returned the favor, albeit a bit more slowly as exhaustion slowly caught up to you. Once you were out of sight of the manor, Larry had asked how your day went. You pretty much told him everything. About the fun you had in Manglewood, the freezing experience in the Ziggurat, and the jousting shows in Bunkum Lagoon. You spoke of all the people you met and how Newton was informative and made sure to look after you. It seemed to earn Larrys’ approval as he nods as the pod comes into sight. Once you both were aboard and a course was set for Craftworld, you decided to settle in on the pillows on the far side of the pod. Where it was a bit quieter than the control room. Larry decided that he would drive you both back to Craftworld while you took a nap. You didn’t mind and happily accepted the offer. Though, he probably could tell that you weren’t getting enough sleep. You could practically see the darkness lining your eyes.

Now you were wrapped up in soft materials and laying in a nest made from pillows and such. Your mind was so tired and strained from being awake for so long that all you could think about was how many people you met in the last few days. How many potential friends you could make...but it was still a mystery as to how you arrived on Craftworld in the first place. Let alone how to get out of this dimension and safely back to Earth. If you wanted to go back...that is. I mean, you were still hungry. Even more so now. You could only sigh as the feelings of hunger went away some time ago after you tried to not focus on anything. You were still lost. Even if you met some friendly faces along the way. Still... how did you get here? And how do you get back? You merely blink as these questions run through your mind and you just let out a deep exhale and close your eyes tightly. You just needed some sleep for now. Maybe this is all just one big fever dream and you’ll wake up back in your normal bed with normal humans around you. No fabric, no cardboard, so sponges...just flesh and bones. Organic stuff... REAL stuff.

Or...at least the things you HOPE were REAL things. Oh, but it was just another problem to solve for tomorrow.

You let out another final long sigh as your heavy eyes finally close and you drifted off to sleep in record time.

Blissfully unaware of the images and energy seeping from your head while you slept peacefully throughout the whole trip back to Craftworld.

#little big planet #LBP #reader insert #No romance #LBP1 #LBP2 #LBP3 #LBP fanfics #no dialogue #I love this idea of humans seeing the imagisphere #Imma keep on with this idea #Newton and Reader will become great friends

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smileblackfish · 3 years ago

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Writing a diary or journal has always felt stupid to me. What’s the point in writing out your own feelings? After all, you're the one experiencing them. I've had many a diary before, a common gift item for girls, all different sizes and designs. Most had little locks on them, the kind you could pop open with a paperclip, the kind that secrets were stored in, not actually held safe, just given the illusion of safety. Others too, ones with dogs on them, ones bound by fake leather, or my favourite, a cushy one with eight pointed star patterns on it. No matter what the exterior was, they all had one thing in common; the pages lay barren, a wasteland of memories scattered through mostly blank pages. It feels silly, frivolous even to memorialize your thoughts or emotions, but it is quite helpful in understanding the motivations behind them. Of all the things that are pointlessly gendered, journaling is one of the stupidest. Everyone benefits from understanding their internal turmoil, yet journaling is seen as something done by little girls. All of the times I did manage to write in my diary it was never kept up for longer than three days. Every page I’d write needed context, I felt this today because of x/y/z, well now x/y/z needs explaining. That feels silly, why am I explaining something I already know for these pages, which nobody else will ever see. That and the format, it's difficult to document flowing emotions in writing, by the time this line is done there’s something I want to revise or add to the previous lines. It’s much easier to rant in a video format, even if it feels silly if no one is going to see it. Or better yet, digitally, that way the words can be edited and rewritten countless times with less effort than paper and pencil. The benefits of journaling lay in the organization of thoughts and understanding the context of those thoughts well enough to convey them through written words, an act which leaves a perfectly delectable end product, just waiting to be consumed, made real, have its existence confirmed by an outside source. So here is my attempt at self reflection, made in such a way as to immortalize my thoughts, instead of keeping them locked away, in the hopes of bettering myself and anyone who might happen to stumble across my words. Even though there is only the smallest chance anyone will ever see this, it's easier to write for an imaginary audience than none at all. So here I am holding up a mirror by screaming into the void.

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scienceoftheidiot · 5 years ago

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Just saw a post praising Taika Waititi (love him. This is not about him this is about you Tumblr.) for saying "back then, nazis went to jail" and how we should do just like back then.

Hell yeah we should do that.

But thank you, Tumblr and your "PEOPLE WHO ARE INTERESTED IN WW2 ARE EVIL CIS WHITE MEN WITH NO APPEAL" (fuck you and not all are evil, not all are cis, not all are men, and not all are white) because you're proving me right once again for hating you

Dude. All nazis went to jail? IF ONLY

A few died immediately. The faces. The known names. The known monsters. They killed themselves or they were caught and hung

Please do watch the Nuremberg trials and a bunch of documentaries before telling people who do this in the process of knowing their own history (hello some of us are Europeans and/or Jewish, some of us still have living family who lived under or fought in this war) that they're boring/evil people (and before presuming their gender, colour, etc.).

HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF FRICKING PAPERCLIP? This is the damned tip of the iceberg. Of course the Russians did the same too.

Some others fled, and it took all the strength of Nazi Hunters like Simon Wiesenthal, or the Klarsfeld spouses, and others, to track and catch them. Sometimes helped by some countries governments. Often not.

Here is what I'm going to tell you now : most lower case nazis, or in the case of my own country, collaborators to nazis, stayed right where there were. Often in position of power. In German universities, people who had supported the racial bullshit with bad science stayed in their professor places and kept teaching. The French judiciary system and government was ripe with ex-collaborators until well into the 70s. I'm not German, but I'd swear it's the same for them.

I'm old enough to remember the trials of Maurice Papon. Klaus Barbie was on trial near where I'm from 3 years before I was born.

If you followed the news, a German man who worked in camps and whose job was to steal the money from the people sent there and who made a ton of cash on the process was caught and put on trial like, not 5 years ago. And the old nazi never showed any genuine remorse. Never.

Among all the documentaries I've seen, the most chilling were interviewing old white haired grandpas, in their living room, about their youth, and 80% of them were regretting that time. Some of them had Hitler busts exposed in their living rooms. (not all. As always, nuance is your friend. One of them especially made an impression on me, who totally turned and is now and since the 50s a helper for immigrants and fighter for human rights.)

The millions nazis and collaborators and sympathizers all over Europe wouldn't all be caught. How can you? How can you catch nazis if all the population was nazi? How do you make the difference between a real Nazi and a German who just tried to survive under yet another fascist regime? You think all the western Europe fascists were killed after WW2? Talk to a Spanish person. A Greek one. Etc.

So yes. Of course we want all nazis in jail and that is what we should do.

But thinking WW2 and it's aftermath was a neat black and white picture with American Saviors and Angelic Resistance people on one side, and Evil Nazis and Collaborators on the other, who won neatly and put alllll the bad guys into jail, is such an USAmerican view.

Did you know GIs had to be trained to understand why they had to fight the classy looking blonde nazis alongside the "dirty brown French"? Because many of them agreed with the Nazi theories? Did you know the French Resistance was first born out of a far-right movement who didn't want nazis walking on their territory? And so many other facts.

If you don't respect the people who are interested in this horrendous moment in history and who are here witnessing it happen again (and you're part of the problem thanks) at least respect the fucking facts. Knowing about these makes you aware of what is happening now. They didn't put all nazis to jail? Well we should do better. We should put them into jail now.

Learn stuff before you open your mouth.

PS : I can't source my sayings right now but they're probably quite easily found on the internet. And please watch some documentaries if you want to talk about that time period.

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headfullofstories · 4 years ago

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Truly Monstrous Luck - part 4

After half an hour or so of sitting alone in the dark, I decide to go out and explore some more. I put my journal in my backpack and fish out my binder, taking off my shirt quickly to slip it on over my head before throwing the shirt back on. I decide to leave my bag here, lock my room behind me and walk as quietly as I can down the hall of rooms. There are a few other people milling about, most walking the opposite direction, most of them giving me odd looks as I pass by. I keep my head down and let my feet carry me through the winding corridors.

Eventually I find myself back in the greenhouse, moonlight spilling in through the glass ceiling, shifting and shimmering through a layer of water blocking this place from the rest of the world - is this Turtle Pond? Or some other body of water?

The butterflies are all asleep, but now lightning bugs populate the air. They hover in the air effortlessly, tiny stars filling the great big space of the greenhouse. They start to float around me as I walk in and take a spot over by a pond full of lily pads and lotus blossoms. I sit there for a few minutes, examining the greenery floating on the water, when I hear a voice behind me say, “Damn, I’m usually the only one in here this early.”

I jump several feet to the side, turning to see who just spoke. A girl with moss in her hair and piercing orange eyes stands in the doorway. She walks over to me, and I see that her feet are bare and covered in vines and greenery, decked out in dirt covered overalls and a light blue t-shirt. She studies my face for a moment, crouching down so we’re eye to eye. My breathing is shaky and erratic as I try my best to calm myself down and slow my heart rate down. Her eyes narrow as she takes in all of the details of my face. I chew on my lower lip nervously, hoping to ground myself a little more. After looking at my face for about 10 seconds, her eyes wander down towards my neck and land on the bite mark imprinted in my skin. As soon as I register this, my hand flies up to cover the mark as her eyes widen.

“You’re a new vampire.” She remarks. “Been almost a year since we’ve had one of you here.”

I give a shaky nod and slowly uncover the bite mark again, sitting up straight as she backs away. “I’ve had a really bad 24 hours.” I mutter as I begin to fidget, hitting the heels of my hands together. “Being in here has made me feel a lot better. I was in here earlier and I ended up getting covered in butterflies.”

She gives a slow nod. “Well, if the insects all like you this much, I guess I can trust you.” She reaches out a hand, “my name is Calla. Resident dryad.”

I grab her hand, which is rough and covered in calluses. “I’m Victor.”

“Well, Victor, do you have any interest in magic?”

“Magic?” I echo, and all of the air is suddenly pulled from my lungs. “What… what kind?”

“Depends on where you get your magic from.” She responds. “You seem to have a real affinity for nature, have you ever had any interest in druidic magics?”

“C-can I even… channel nature magic? I’m not… alive anymore.” I ask, fidgeting getting slowly worse. “Do you need to be alive to use life magic?”

She thinks about it for a moment, shifting to a sitting position. “I don’t think so. I’ve never met a druidic vampire, but you seem to have a strong connection with this place.”

I manage to largely control the fidgeting, but my eyes wander to the lightning bugs floating in the air. “I think… I’d like that.”

“Great!” She smiles, “You probably have stuff going on today, being new and all, but I’m here most nights if you want to talk.”

I give her a thumbs up, then get up and start to walk around looking at all of the different planter boxes.

As morning light starts creeping through the glass ceiling, an hour or so after the lightning bugs have settled back into their hiding places, and Calla has located herself up at the top of a cherry tree and is currently browsing her phone, Arthur ducks his head in through the doorway.

“Hey Victor, you free?” He inquires, “Yvonne said you were probably in here.”

I nod and pull myself to my feet. I turn and wave good-bye to Calla, who gives me a 2 finger salute in return, then run over to where Arthur is waiting in the doorway.

“No backpack?” He asks, and I shake my head.

“No, I came down here at 3AM. Didn’t think I’d need it.”

“Jesus kid, did you even sleep last night? You still need to sleep, yknow.”

“Yeah, I fell asleep at like, 7:30 or something yesterday.” I assure him. “I woke up at 2:30 and got restless after a little bit.”

“Thats… actually more sleep than I usually get. Good job, kid.” He remarks, lightly patting me on the head a couple of times. I smile at that.

We set off down a new set of hallways, away from where I’ve mainly been until now. There are more people down this way, and most of them don’t even bat an eye when they see me. I’m glad that they’re not staring like everyone else I’ve met so far, but the number of people in the enclosed space of the hallway makes me a little nervous. Most of the people are a lot taller than me, too, and some of them look like they could snap me in half like a twig. I stay close behind Arthur, trying to take up as little space as possible.

We walk for a few minutes, the floor slowly sloping upward, before stopping in front of a room labelled “Office.” We walk in and Arthur gestures for me to stay put by the door as he goes up to talk to a man with ram’s horns and lavender eyes sitting at a messy wooden desk. They talk for a moment before Arthur turns, waves me over, and starts down a short hallway going deeper into the office. The layout of this area reminds me of the offices at all of my old schools, and I don’t know if I like that… at all.

“You good?” Arthur asks, turning around to face me. I shift in place for a moment, before looking at him and giving him an uneasy shrug.

“This place has the same layout as my old school offices.” I mutter. “It’s making me a little nervous.”

He nods sympathetically. “This place is a lot better than a school office. They actually care about you here, and the lady who schedules all of the gender confirmation surgeries has her office in here.”

My eyes go wide. “We-we’re already scheduling that?” I gasp, starting to hit the heels of my hands together excitedly.

“Well, why would we put it off if we could schedule it now?” He smiles. “Besides, the faster we get this scheduled, the earlier your appointment will be, and the less likely you’ll be to fuck up your ribs by binding too long.”

I might actually start crying right now. My vision goes out of focus for a moment, and I start bouncing on the balls of my feet.

“Uh, kid?” He asks, a nervous lilt to his voice.

I look straight into his eyes, smile creeping across my face. “I’m just… so fucking excited about this.”

His expression softens, and he gives me a nod. “Being a vampire kinda sucks ass. Dysphoria sucks even more ass. There’s no cure for vampirism, but if you get rid of the parts of you that make you dysphoric, it makes immortality a little more bearable.”

We stand out in the hallway for a few minutes before a woman pokes her head out of the office in front of us. Her eyes are the color of fire and her ears are long and pointed. She has long white hair and pale skin - not vampire pale, but pale enough to be odd.

“Arthur, good to see you.” She says in an unnervingly calm voice, then looks over to me and smiles. “Who is this young man?”

“This is Victor. He’s new.” He sighs. “We’re looking at getting him in with the top surgeon over at Moonlight.”

“Excellent!” She exclaims, “Why don’t you come in and sit down?”

Arthur heads in first and I follow close behind him, nervous of this new person; she gives me really bad vibes.

The office is clean and smells like rubbing alcohol; it makes my head hurt a little. There’s a pair of cushioned wooden chairs on one side and a spinning desk chair on the other. Everything is organized - the macbook, paperclip box, and pencil container sitting on the desk look like they were aligned with the edge of the desk with a right-angle ruler, and the mesh waste paper bin is empty. The entire energy of the room makes me deeply uncomfortable.

As soon as I sit down I pull my legs up into a criss-cross, and the woman grimaces a little, though she says nothing. I start tapping my fingers against my legs, and I have a hard time focusing on any one thing in the room.

The woman clears her throat as she begins to talk, "So, Victor, you're interested in top surgery?"

My focus snaps to her immediately and I nod my head vigorously. "Very much so. The… thought alone of people seeing my chest makes me nauseous and just… having them makes me really uncomfortable."

She nods, and opens up her laptop. "And… how old are you?"

"Twenty."

"Do you have any legal documents? An ID?"

I shake my head. "My wallet got stolen yesterday, and I didn't have a driver's license or a social security or health insurance card or anything like that anyways."

"And that answers my third question." She mutters as she types. "And… you are a vampire, correct? When were you turned?"

"Yesterday." I mutter, "at 10:30AM or so, I think."

She continues to type for a few more moments, then starts to mutter under her breath before speaking again.

"Okay, Victor, the soonest appointment I see here is September 15th. Does that work for you?"

My eyes go wide. "That's… that's only 3 months away."

She nods, and repeats the question. "Does that day work for you?"

I nod vigorously again. "I don't have any prior obligations anymore."

"Excellent!" She smiles, types a little more, and closes her laptop again. "Victor, you are all sorted. It was good to see you again, Arthur. Make sure you're remembering to take care of yourself."

"I will." He sighs, and stands up. "Well, if that's all, Victor, you were going to see your brother today if I remember correctly."

I nod, and quickly get up to follow him as he heads out the door.

"That was Eleanor." He says once we leave. "She takes care of all of the medical expenses and legal stuff around that.”

“I don’t really like her.” I remark. “She reminds me of the therapist my parents sent me to when I was 14. She said I was a crazy little girl and that I’d never be able to function at a normal capacity, but refused to give me any diagnoses.”

He gives a sympathetic nod. “Well, Eleanor’s really nice - she takes a little while to warm up to new people, but she’s a good person.”

“That’s nice to know.” I mutter. “I just hope I don’t end up being an exception to that niceness. That happens to me a lot.”

He lets out a deep sigh at that. “Some people just attract misfortune. And it fucking sucks when you’re one of those people.”

“There are people that have it a lot worse than me.” I argue. “I had a perfectly fine life and the access, money, and ability to take testosterone and wear a binder.”

“Kid, yesterday you were unemployed, homeless, and had no money, not to mention that you were effectively murdered.” He points out. “That sounds fucking horrible, and your suffering shouldn’t be discounted because other people ‘have it worse’ than you.”

“I wasn’t homeless. I got evicted, but I could’ve just stayed with my brother. And I called my bank to cancel the card that got stolen, so technically I’m not broke, I just… don’t have access to my money right now.”

“I don’t care how much you try to belittle your struggles, Victor, I’m not changing my mind.”

“I… well, you’re not changing my mind, either.” I grumble.

“We’ll see.” He mutters. “I can be very persuasive.”

#original story #spooky monsters n shit #one (1) self deprecating boy

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an-avid-reader · 4 years ago

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Prodigy (Legend #2) - Marie Lu

my rating: 4/5 stars

Synopsis of book 1 -

In a world where the Patriots, Colonies, and the Republic are at odds and there’s a plague in the poorer parts of the US, Day is an unstoppable street criminal with good intentions. When his family’s house gets marked by Republic soldiers, Day’s only thought is to steal a cure before his family member dies. June is a top student at Drake University—a prodigy. When her brother, Metias, gets caught in a cross-fire during a mission, June is fast-tracked to becoming a soldier. Her first mission: track down Day. As Day and June come from such opposite backgrounds, is it possible that their paths would’ve crossed otherwise?

Link to Goodreads // Link to review book 1 // Spoilers (book 1+book2) in review below!

I haven’t read a trilogy in what feels like a really long time lmao; I think it’s because I’ve noticed that sometimes, the second book acts like a bridge book aka nothing really happens except for the last 50ish pages, which tbh just sets up book 3 (It’s like that one useless episode in a tv show that literally has nothing to do with the plotline). I’m VERY happy this wasn’t the case for Prodigy - if anything, there was even more action and more character (and world building) than Legend, which I much appreciated. That means that I also have a lot to unpack; buckle up!

I feel like the most natural place to start is from the stuff I didn’t really enjoy from the first book, specifically the world building and all the questions. It was finally explained that the Republic is essentially nonsense propaganda and the civilians are being fed false information--they aren’t winning the war, in fact they are losing! We also learned that the Colonies and the Patriots are two separate uh ‘groups’? And the Colonies fund the Patriots, but the Colonies are straight up left in the dark (and the Patriots were also hired by the Republic, but more on that later). I wanted to also briefly mention that when June and Day crossed into the Colonies territory, it was like a completely different world--maybe not better, just different. We also kind of get a glimpse into the history of the world--how climate change just absolutely obliterated the whole world. Which, tbh, I feel like if an ice cap near Antarctica (or Antarctica itself) were to melt, it would be more than just the edges of the US that would be underwater--it would go up to the Statue of Liberty’s torch :)))))))). Nevertheless, I really appreciated these explanations as it added more depth and also provided context for the setting, which I found was lacking in the first book (which, I get, you don’t want to overwhelm readers, esp in YA, with all the world building right away).

The other thing is that I wanted to know more about the plague, and Lu came through!!! So the plague is being used to try to create people as bioweapons, which makes me wonder if they were trying to clone those who were infected (or maybe just wanted to collect everyone who has a similar profile to Eden). I still have a few questions of the virus--like why did Eden and that other boy on the train go blind? Does the virus affect them on a genomic level?! I also find it hilarious that in LA they were quarantined for rioting--I feel like that pretty much just showed how weak the Republic is and how their power is no longer ominous (idk if that makes sense??).

Next, I want to touch on the characters and the character building (specifically June and Day, but others too!). I wanted to start off by prefacing that I’m not a fan of the love triangle vibes that we got throughout the books (and to be honest, the ending sort of pushed that narrative a bit further, which is not cool :///). So I’m not sure if it was Razor’s plan to cut communication between Day and June (on purpose) to prevent them from messing up the Patriot’s plans/to prevent Anden from becoming suspicious of June, but I found it so FRUSTRATING that they couldn’t communicate at least once before the assination (and I mean talk, not the signal bc that stirred up a lot of confusion with Day). Their separation really tested their relationship, but I also feel like there was a permanent wedge placed due to the lack of trust, and again, the ending just hammered that home. I will say, I really appreciate June and Day being completely transparent with each other when they escaped from the Patriots and got in the cave. It was like a necessary evil, but at least they shared relevant information with each other, which I believe strengthened their partnership, even if it took a toll on their relationship. Part of me hopes that they end up back together in Champion, but I know that it may not be ‘what’s best for them’, especially with that huge piece of information we learned about Day--that’s the one thing I’m mad about. They spill the beans in the cave but he can’t even tell June that he’s dying, instead he breaks up with her and then they end up kissing?? AH!

Now for those…...love triangles…. .-. Let’s start off with Anden and June. I’m not sure how I feel about Anden; Lu paints him to be this kind of heartthrob and well-intentioned guy but he’s also sort of naive? Like I get that his whole plan is to reform the Republic with the help of June and Day so that the civilians are on board, but I hope he realizes that there will always be people who are going to 1) resist him and 2) betray him. I really hope he isn’t as quick to trust people as he was with June (which maybe that was because his judgement was clouded). As for being naive...how did he not see June’s paperclip ring???? And to add onto that - how did the Colonies not realize that ‘Sarah’ is actually June???

I don’t know it just seems very unlikely that he didn’t see it considering that June was fiddling with it during their nice little dinner. And also the fact that he was always itching to see her. I didn’t realize, however, that Anden is only in his early twenties—he also lacks the edge that June and Day have, you can tell that he’s a poised person. While it’s great that he stands his ground on the Republic, I find it hard to believe that he isn’t a pushover (even just a tiny bit). Thus, I don’t really see how Anden and June could be a good match; I also don’t think class should play a role into whether or not you should or shouldn’t be with someone.

That sort of brings me to another point, which is the idea of the Priceps and the Elector itself. I have so many questions about Anden's plans, and they mainly involve him. For example, would there still be an Elector (and Senate) after the Republic is reformed? If so, would his powers be minimized, or would he have the status of President? For Priceps, it wasn’t very clear in the book that she doesn’t have to be married to the Elector, but it almost seemed that it was implied; could Anden have chosen to be married and have a separate Priceps? What if the Elector wasn’t straight? So. Many. Questions!! That whole Priceps thing is one of the reasons I couldn’t give this book a full 5 stars, again, it sort of has to do with the lack of information (or the amount of assumptions I have to make).

The next love triangle I have major issues with is Tess and Day, which Day is mostly uh turned off by the whole thing (which I can get behind) but Tess is just so stubborn and tbh pretty jealous, which isn’t cute. I really hope that in Champion they end up reconnecting, especially since Day is practically on his deathbed, but as friends. Maybe Tess will understand where Day is coming from with his feelings about June. Part of me wants Tess to end up with Baxter but I also really don’t like him?????? Agh this really sucks! I wish their relationship didn’t end on such a sour note. Like yes Tess, you were always there for Day (especially when he needed medical care) and ever since they got into contact with June (or rather, when June was sent on her mission), everything went downhill—but I mean, at some point Anden’s father would’ve passed, and maybe things would turn out to be in a similar circumstance, except instead of June it could be a different girl? The fact that Day still calls Tess ‘cousin’ and she still went ahead and kissed him just made me feel slightly uncomfortable?? No, they’re not biologically related, but given the amount of time they spent together, they almost could’ve been. To some extent, I feel like Tess had a huge crush on Day, but she never wanted to admit it until they were separated bc she maybe didn’t realize how much he means to her/she wanted that cheesy movie-like feeling where the two best friends realize that they are perfect together but beyond friends?? I do believe that Tess deserves someone great though, I just don’t think that Day is the guy for that :///

The last relationship-thing I want to briefly mention is Thomas and Metias’ relationship. I’m glad that we have some LGBT+ representation here, but at the same time, I can’t help but wonder if it was forced or not (like a checkbox Lu wanted to tick). I don’t remember in Legend when Thomas kissed June, if there was a kind of repulsion/it didn’t feel authentic. To be honest, I really thought that Thomas was into June, but when we learn he is gay (or maybe bi), it just didn’t seem to fit the story at all??? Upon this revelation, June racked her brain for memories of Thomas and Metias when they were young and oh it just happens that Metias never ‘brought back’ anyone/any girls home. Listen, I’m all for diversity, whether that be the character’s race, gender identity and/or sexual preference, I just don’t want it to come off as the author just ‘checking off a box’; I’d rather it be genuine (even though it’s a fictional story!) For all I know, Lu may have planned this, but to me it just came off as an afterthought, that’s all :/ (and @ Thomas, just because you love someone and it shouldn’t be allowed bc of your ranks, it doesn’t mean you have to kill them even if CoMmAnDeR JaMeSoN said to).

I wanted to also talk about characters—more specifically Razor, Commander Jameson, Baxter, and Kaede (rip). So um I guess we’ll start with Razor aka the biggest con man there ever was. Well tbh I kind of found him fishy, just like June did from the get-go, I just didn’t think it was going to be that…bad??? This goes back to Lu’s foreshadowing—which I would say it improved as I wasn’t able to fully guess what was going to happen—she drops p obvious hints left, right, and centre, you just don’t see them until the events unfold; what may seem like a small detail (i.e. Commander Jameson in Razor’s room on the ship and Day (as a disguise) bumping into her) will end up being part of a bigger plan, so to speak. Part of me wishes we had a peek into his mind to see what he thinks like, and if he has more motives, besides just being “hired” by the Senate to assassinate Anden, maybe Razor has a personal vendetta?? I also definitely suspect that Razor and Commander Jameson may or may not be a thing *side eyes*. I’m excited to read Champion to see how he will stand up against the Elector / the Republic, and whether the other Patriots will stand by his side or if they will turn against Razor--especially because right now he’s in jail, but I doubt he will stay there for long! (which can someone explain why Razor and Commander Jameson only got charged with treason??? They almost flipped the Republic on its head).

Speaking of Patriots...there’s Baxter, which I don’t know where he stands. I think he’s definitely jealous of Day / the fact that Tess has feelings for Day even though he doesn’t reciprocate them. Just a dash of jealousy. But he did predict that Day would betray the Patriots, which makes me think that Baxter may have a part in an uprising, but maybe there’s a chance that he’ll see the whole story. Part of me also highly doubts that he’ll be rational; he seems to be someone with a heavy confirmation bias--I wonder if he knew that Razor was hired by the Senate or if it just went over his head. What if he’s the main villain in Champion o.O him + Tess would be interesting, especially Day does a last hurrah. But anyways, Baxter was just so arrogant, and I could feel Day’s own disappointment when he did exactly what Baxter had predicted. Yeap, there’s definitely going to be some tension that needs to be revisited.

Last and certainly not least, Kaede :( I’m a bit annoyed that she’s dead. It’s yet again another thing that could be used against Day (specifically his relationship with June; anything that comes near them dies). We got to learn so much from Kaede, and before we knew it, she got shot. It sucks because I think she seemed like a reasonable person and she always remained level-headed. She’s not one to judge quickly *cough cough Baxter cough cough*. Even in Legend she had her kick-ass moments, but she really saved them from the Colonies and how June and Day can’t really repay her unless they keep on going with their mission. Not cool to just kill her off like that though.

What I loved from this book, besides the character growth and the depth of their relationships with each other (especially on trust, or the therelackof), I liked how this book is just action-packed. I find with the second book in trilogies, we have a plan with a clear end goal (in this case, assassinate the Elector), and that plan just gets adjusted over time as we uncover information until it gets to the end of the book. Here, that main event ended up being smack bang in the middle, which isn’t something we see very often. It left more room for the story to develop and to allow us to really dig deep into the story, which I much appreciated. At some parts, it almost felt like a rush, especially as the story unfolds and with so many characters to consider--it was a page turner! I’m not really sure if I enjoyed Prodigy more than book 1, as I mentioned, I didn’t really like the love triangles and then Anden is just too naive for me to take him seriously. There were also some cliches (I let go of the breath I didn’t know I was holding), and honestly, I was not a fan of the ending! I think that’s the main reason why I can’t rate this higher than Legend to be honest. At least with the first book, there was enough closure that could give us a starting point for book 2. Here is was...let’s break up lmao jk also I’m not going to let June know that I’m dying, peace out.

This review is getting a bit too long lol, and I’m sure there’s something I forgot to mention, but overall I really enjoyed this book. The action, the intensity, the revelation of information and Lu’s foreshadowing make Prodigy a book that’s hard to put down. The characters’ dynamics are all over the place, which just adds to the chaos, but in a good way--it makes the story that much more interesting. I’m patiently waiting for book 3 from overdrive, so I’m not sure if I’ll be able to read and review it by next week--I’m itching to know what happens next! [Please, let both of our main characters live p l e a s e]

I’d love to know your thoughts and opinions on Prodigy! Did you enjoy this book, how would you compare it with the rest of the trilogy? Let’s chat =D

Thank you for reading my review, I hope you are having a good day, wherever you are in the world!

~ Cassandra / an-avid-reader

#just one more ~ queue #prodigy #marie lu #book review #books #booklr #reading #bookworm #legend #trilogy

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davetheshady · 5 years ago

Note

🌟 how about chapter 4 of waiting for the bus in the rain 🌟 and only partially because i showed up to yell about the last few paragraphs when it first dropped. also just because i love Julie content and it's the very middle of that fic

::blows dust off inbox:: So! Now that I’ve back from traveling through three countries and recovered from trying to leave most of my arm skin in one of them (PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: don’t go so fast you flip over on the Alpine Slide, particularly if you’re in the actual Alps) here’s some DVD commentary on Chapter 4 of Waiting for the Bus in the Rain! It’s chock full of my stylistic hallmarks, i.e. way longer than I expected.

(Note to my sister: THIS IS FULL OF SPOILERS. GO READ MY STORY FIRST YOU LOSER)

There’s a Sheriff’s Secret Police officer outside Julie’s window. Considering she’s in her office on the second floor, this is fairly impressive. But when they scream and scrabble against the glass after accidentally kicking over their ladder for the third time, Julie’s had enough.

Even when they’re not under suspicion of using the scientific method, Julie has to deal with WAY more (attempted) surveillance than Carlos ever does. This is partially because she doesn’t have amazing hair, but also because Cecil doesn’t narrate large chunks of her life over the radio that the SSP can copy down and submit as a report.

vulnerabilities include fire and cold iron

and according to the literature high velocity cheese wedges but i’ve never seen anyone test that

My hand to God. Probably my number one complaint about fantasy as a genre is that everyone takes stuff from Celtic mythology so seriously when half of it is just. Completely bonkers.

Originally, most of the relevant exposition about fairies was provided by a different character entirely: Carlos-f’s misplaced smartphone, an AI who Julie called Hex (yes, like in Discworld, hell yeah science wizards) because she refused to give Julie her name. Hex provided such ringtones as “Dark Horse” and “Double Rainbow” and would occasionally get distracted by lists of numbers. Hmm…

I changed it back because 1) it was a detour and this chapter was long enough already, 2) Julie and Carlos’ friendship is one of the main throughlines and having them talk to each other was better for the story, and 3) him texting during the middle of a battle is hilarious. But as far as I’m concerned, Hex is still canon.

Andre yawns on the other end of the line and asks, “What time is it?”

“Quit whining, it’s only—” Julie looks at the clock.

Shit.

“—3:00 AM,” she finishes defiantly, because she still has her pride. Embarrassment pricks at her like flying embers settling on bare skin, because now Andre knows she was so out of it she didn’t even bother to try keeping track of the time, and he’s going to think she couldn’t sleep because of feelings, which is both correct and incorrect, because she wasn’t even trying to sleep since distracting herself by going over the minutiae of their data while the Sheriff’s Secret Police scream and fall in the bushes is better than listening to her cats prowl around while lying in her quiet apartment by herself, and any moment now he’s going to feel bad and decide to humor her and answer her in a voice filled with cloying pity and say—

“Would Hiram McDaniels count as one respondent, or five?” He yawns again.

A good chunk of Julie’s inner turmoil just, like, boils down to a recurring loop of that Tim Kreider quote about “If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.” She doesn’t consciously WANT the rewards of being loved, it just kind of… happens… and then she’s stuck with incredibly loyal life-long friends… and now she not only has to deal with her own feelings but theirs too, which is pretty much her worst nightmare…

Fortunately, since she’s already gone through the mortifying ordeal of being known, they do frequently pull through and offer the kind of support she knows how to accept.

“Give TV’s Frank a kiss for me.”

“I’m not kissing my cat for you,” says Julie.

I mean, she’ll kiss the cat. Just not on request.

And yes, all her cats are named after the Mad Scientists’ sidekicks on Mystery Science Theater 3000. ~foreshadowing~

When she opens the door of her workshop later that morning, she finds that someone has been by to leave her a breakfast tray. Well, “tray”, in that it’s a textbook, and “breakfast”, in that it’s a French press, a stale churro, and her blood pressure medication. But the French press is completely full with still-warm coffee, so overall she’s going to count this as a win.

This appeared pretty early in my drafts: it’s just such a funny mental image to me and also encapsulates Julie and Gary’s relationship pretty well, i.e. a string of question marks who somehow get along.

The naturally suspicious part of her wonders if he deliberately provoked her reaction to the flamingo to gather more information about it. The naturally analytical part of her points out that Carlos is more likely to gnaw off his own hand than put someone in danger, especially when he could just put himself in danger instead.

Julie is just a tad cynical, so she’d definitely think of potentially negative interpretations of her friend’s actions. But it’s not actually a possibility she dwells on in any real sense, and every time she interacts with Carlos-f (not to mention Carlos-0) she trusts him implicitly. She wouldn’t admit it in a thousand years, but she considers Carlos one of the few genuinely good people in the world: not because he never makes mistakes or creates personal disasters, but exactly because of those things. She knows he’s a flawed person, and that everyone is flawed, so that makes him genuine – which means every time he’s tried to do the right thing at personal cost, over and over, that was genuine too.

Basically, there’s a reason why in the last chapter she automatically references “scientist means hero” with “Fuck, I’m turning into you!”

“So,” she says. “Nilanjana. Do you need new pronouns, or anything?”

“Does anyone need any pronouns?” asks Gary contemplatively, which Julie takes as a ‘No’.

“Should I drop ‘Gary’ entirely? Do you want me to change your name in our paperwork?”

He thinks about it for a moment. “I don't know, man,” he concludes. “I don’t really believe in labels.”

Gary has galaxy-brained from “gender is a social construct” straight to “identity is a social construct” and beyond.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” asks Julie.

“I think so, Dr. K,” says Gary. “But how will we get three pink flamingos into one pair of capri pants?”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v-xrnIXQ3iQ

What happens when the wave function ψ is the same as the physical system it describes, and what happens when that physical system collapses?

i.e. what would happen if common misperceptions of the Observer Effect were actually the correct perceptions?

Julie can’t help it: she snorts. “Passionate? Me?”“Well, yeah,” says Romero. “You really care about the things that interest you. You get really involved and angry and never quit or back down.”“Oh,” says Julie, then blurts, “You like that I’m angry?”“I… don’t like it when you’re unhappy?” says Romero. “But – it’s part of you, so… yeah, I guess I do, because it’s how you are. Why? Is – is everything okay?”She’s spent a lifetime having people tell her to stop being angry. No one’s ever told her she’s fine the way she is.

There have been many, many, MANY thinkpieces about how women are socialized not to express anger, often even to themselves. That was never going to work for Julie, who after all is powered by constant low-level rage, but that just means she had to deal with the backlash from not adhering to social programming instead (on top of additional backlash from being a woman in a male-dominated field). Of his own free will, Romero not only rejects that social programming, but also clearly spent time thinking about her empirically to determine that her anger is a positive force instead of a random and horrible personality trait.

He’s a Good Dude.

When she was in elementary school, her third grade teacher had been fond of saying, “If you’re bored, it means you have no imagination,” at least until Julie had decided to deal with her boredom after finishing her science assignment, her homework, and the rest of the textbook by seeing what happened if you jammed a paperclip into the electric socket. (The answer was certainly not boring and, in fact, probably the most exciting and practical thing they learned that year.)

That used to be my aunt’s favorite saying. I personally did not copy Julie’s response, but it is based on research done by one of my friends. (It’s okay, he was very careful about safety and made sure to use rubber-handled scissors to poke random bits of metal into the outlet. Apart from a classmate’s socks catching on fire, everyone was totally fine.)

She wakes to the sound of Cecil talking about the other week’s marathon, which may or may not have been mandatory, whoops. Carlos has texted her an emoji of various hadrosaurids gathered around a campfire singing “We Are the Champions”.

PREVIOUSLY IN NIGHT VALE:

EXT. - THE LABS

Thousands of citizens stream down Main Street, driven relentlessly forward to the Narrow Place. The Harbingers of the Distant Prince hurl themselves towards the building again and again, only to be rebuffed by the wards. Charred corpses lay scattered around the perimeter. Green storm clouds gather overhead as their anger grows.

INT. - LAB ONE

ANDRE

Did you hear something?

JULIE

[not looking up from her welding]

No.

Carlos, meanwhile, has NO idea his emojis are not in fact standard.

“I liked him,” says Josie. [...] “He was trying to do… something, I forget what. I hope he figured it out.” At Julie’s incredulity, she says, “Some people, they’re rough around the edges, but they try. They hope for something better and keep going. That’s important.”

“What if you go where you’re not supposed to?”

“Then you come back and fix what you can,” says Josie.

“What if you can’t?”

“Then you find someone to help you,” Josie replies. “Oh! I love this song.”

She turns up the volume of the radio and treats everyone to the aria from Shastakovich’s Paint Your Wagon.

Vocals by L. Marvin

Angels chilling at your house are, of course, part of the standard retirement package for former Knights of the Church. Old Woman Josie used to carry Esperacchius and passed it on to the Egyptian, after which it went to Sanya. She and Shiro were buds and saw Elvis in Vegas (and also, interestingly, several times in the Ralphs).

Anyway, if you want to suggest that a character is subconsciously mulling over an issue, I recommend having them ask some leading questions without describing their reactions and then change the subject.

“It’s come to my attention,” she begins, then has to stop and clear her throat again. “It’s come to my attention that we have a pretty good thing going on. So I was just wondering if you’d like to keep doing this, you know. For the indefinite future. With me.”When he doesn’t say anything, or look at her, or move at all for that matter, she removes her hand from under her thigh where she’s been sitting on it and points at the lease. “I highlighted where you have to sign,” she says, somewhat unnecessarily. “If you wanted to.”

I think this is the only time we see Julie nervous about anything when her life is not actively in danger.

You can’t write a romance arc without including some degree of emotional vulnerability – it just wouldn’t be satisfying. On the other hand, how that emotional vulnerability manifests is REALLY dependent on the person, and if you don’t base it firmly in their character it wouldn’t be satisfying, either. (I’m REALLY picky about romances in part because of this.) Julie’s not the type to pine or swoon or be filled with self-doubt*, but she is bad at feelings, and unfortunately, she’s determined that an equitable relationship with Romero requires some kind of tangible, committed expression of them. So she does that as best she can. It’s not actively harmful to her, but it does require a stretch out of her comfort zone.

* ::cough::Carlos::cough::

Yes, Julie has technically registered their equipment with City Hall, in that they’re listed as alternatively “electronic abaci” and “databases” and she’s claimed they only use the internet for checking email. Until now, they’ve coasted on general good will towards Carlos/his hair and the fact that all authority figures have been functionally electronically illiterate since the Incident in the community college’s Computer and Fire Sciences building.

Look, I could have SWORN there was an Incident at the Computer and Fire Sciences building specifically mentioned in canon. Can I find it anywhere? No. Did I listen to an episode that was subsequently erased from history? Possibly.

This time, someone picks up. There are a few seconds of sleepy fumbling, followed by “Hello?” in more vocal fry than voice.“Cecil!” she says. “Is Carlos there?”“Are you in fear for your life from the long arm of the law?” Cecil mumbles.

her current ringtone

“Julie, I said hold on!”“I am holding on,” she snarls as the rumbling stops. “It’s a diagnostic. 75% efficiency? Am I the only one who cares about proper maintenance in this town?”

This combines two of my favorite things: people focusing on hilariously inconsequential details during a stressful situation, and Julie lowkey engaging in supervillainy. Nikola Tesla did not design earthquake machines so Night Vale could install shitty ones they can barely use. STANDARDS.

“I probably wouldn’t have destroyed Weeping Miner,” she says eventually.

“I know,” says Carlos.

“I could have, though,” she says.

“I know that too,” says Carlos.

[...] Carlos shifts. She looks over; he briefly catches her eye and says, “So could I.”It’s not the same. Carlos would probably feel bad about it, for one. But she feels some of her anger dissipate anyway. At least she’s not the only one dealing with this bullshit.

Subconscious concern --> conscious concern! Getting back to Julie’s cynicism: she doesn’t think there are very many good people in the world, and that excludes her too. Sure, she’s risked her life to save others, fight baddies, and make sure the dangerous technology she’s developed doesn’t fall into the wrong hands, but she knows she has selfish reasons to do them, like protecting her friends and making sure the town/world isn’t destroyed so she can keep doing her research.

But at the same time, the fact that she has been dwelling on the ethics of her situation ever since Chapter 19 of Love is All You Need, that she is genuinely bothered that she’d consider destroying a neighborhood, and that she’s talking about this with Carlos, who considers them to have a similar dilemma, suggests that deep down she is dissatisfied by her cynical model of the world because the data isn’t quite matching up. Which, of course, means she needs more data in the form of Chapters 6 and 7.

On one side is a large picture of Carrie Fisher giving everyone the finger

I think Space Mom is mandatory at protests now.

This whole section (especially the rain) was heavily influenced by the March for Science, which both Ginipig and I went to in 2017. You too can make a difference and also give yourself writing material!

“Any more words of wisdom, Usidork?” she asks instead.

USIDORE, WIZARD OF THE 12TH REALM OF EPHYSIYIES, MASTER OF LIGHT AND SHADOW, MANIPULATOR OF MAGICAL DELIGHTS, DEVOURER OF CHAOS, CHAMPION OF THE GREAT HALLS OF TERR'AKKAS. THE ELVES KNOW HIM AS FI’ANG YALOK. THE DWARFS KNOW HIM AS ZOENEN HOOGSTANDJES*. HE IS ALSO KNOWN IN THE NORTHEAST AS GAISMUNĒNAS MEISTAR AND HAS MANY OTHER SECRET NAMES WHICH YOU DO NOT… YET… KNOW.

* Hoobastank

He blinks at her in polite incomprehension. “I don’t want to miss the Life Raft Debate,” he says. “It’s important to support your department.”

Several universities hold yearly Raft Debates, where representatives from the different disciplines have a debate about which of their respective areas of study is the most vital for humanity and thus should get to take the one-person life raft back to civilization from the desert island they’ve all gotten stuck on.

I should inform you that at my alma mater the Devil’s Advocate, who argues that none of the subjects are worth saving, has won multiple times.

Without taking her eyes off her opponent, Romanoff thrusts out her hand. Dr. Aluki Robinson (Associate Professor of Ornithology) passes her a harpoon, its ivory barbs almost glowing in the dim light.

Nauja and Aluki are both from Cold Case, because no one deserves to be stuck in Cold Case where we’re apparently supposed to be deeply concerned about the main character’s sexual experience but only vaguely perturbed by the powerful white and white-coded women stealing Native American children to brainwash them to their culture so they can be fed to the system seriously WHAT the FUCK Jimbo

ANYWAY, in this universe the Winter fey of Unalaska are discharging their obligations to help the Winter Court against Outsiders by sending some of their people to monitor the prison in Night Vale. This also gets to highlight the fun of an unreliable narrator! Julie is generally not one of those, because she’s a smart and observant person who will happily question everything, but even she has her limits when she’s out of her element. In the case of this story, there are several minor details to suggest there is some Winter and Summer court drama going on in the background (the chlorofiends, an entire academic department of shapeshifters, Molly and Mab personally overseeing bus routes) and most of it just goes completely over her head.

During his undergraduate career, Gary had elicited a considerable amount of interdepartmental discussion about his desire to be exempted from lab regulations for wearing appropriate – or any – footwear in the lab, which evolved into a considerable amount of interdepartmental discussion about whether wrapping your feet in duct tape immediately before said lab time constituted appropriate footwear.

This was based on one of my mother’s students, who eventually resolved the situation by commissioning a handmade pair of moccasins he placed on his feet immediately before entering the lab.

“The scientific method is four steps,” says Carlos with a cheerful inevitability as the officers start shouting panicked instructions into their walkie talkies. “One, find an object you want to know more about; two, hook that object up to a machine using wires or tubes; three, write things on a clipboard; four, read the results that the machine prints.”

This is a direct quote from the book. Was this entire subplot about the scientific method ban designed just to come up with a plausible retcon for why someone with actual scientific training would announce this over the radio? It sure was!

THE SCIENTIFIC METHOD:

1. “Step one, cut a hole in the box,” calls Wei.2. “No, step one is collecting underpants,” says Gary.3. “Step four: make a searching and fearless moral inventory,” says Julie.4. “And then step five, acceptance,” Andre finishes.5. “You see, the first level is ennui, or boredom. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody or something specific – nostalgia, love-sickness… At more morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for. A sick pining, a vague restlessness. Mental throes. Yearning. And at the scientific method’s deepest and most painful level, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause.”6. “It’s how you decide whether to fix the problem with duct tape or WD-40,” says Julie.7. “I think,” says Osborn, “that it’s a divine machine for making flour, salt, and gold.”

8. “Don’t be absurd,” says Galleti. “The scientific method is two vast and trunkless legs of stone standing in the desert!”

9. “And they say the scientific method is—”

“—the quality of cosiness and comfortable conviviality associated with sitting around a fire in the winter with close friends,” puts in Dr. Chelsea Dubinski, Assistant Professor of Chemistry.

10. “Or is it the special look shared between two people, when both are wishing that the other would do something that they both want, but neither want to do?” asks Galleti.

This section was also a chance to write about the rest of Night Vale’s scientists, of whom we still know so very little. There’s enough of them that there’s a whole science district, and the community college seems pretty well staffed, but the fact that Carlos made such an impact when he rolled into town suggests that they were either pretty lowkey or indistinguishably weird from the rest of the town.

“I don't feel alone,” snaps Julie. “I feel like shit, and I know why I feel like shit, and the thought of outlining that in excruciating detail is, oddly enough, not making me feel any better!”

One of the things I wanted to address in this story (inspired by Ghost Stories, which I uhhhhh did not care for) was the shortcomings of a lot of narratives about grief. Because many of them are not only oversimplified, but also not everyone processes grief in the same way. It’s not necessarily a linear narrative of where you go through the five steps and then you’re totally over it: it might take a long time, or you might be fine until some other, unrelated setback triggers you, or it might be a cyclical process as anniversaries roll around. Grief lingers. Related to that, helping people deal with their grief isn’t always as simple as sitting down with them and offering a sympathetic ear. Some people don’t process their feelings well verbally, and the emotional labor of formulating all your grief for another person’s consumption can be nearly as traumatizing as grieving in the first place, and VERY difficult to do when you’re already feeling down.

On top of that, I think general American culture is just. Real bad at dealing with grief. Which means we don’t have many positive models to base our responses on, either as grievers or as people supporting the grieving, and if you don’t fit those models at all it just makes the process that more difficult because everyone’s stumbling around in the dark.

“Does it always feel like this?” she asks.“Which part?” asks Carlos.“We won,” says Julie. “Methods have lived to science another day. We can do our work without interference. All we did was lie about what the name meant, but…” She taps the lab table with a pencil. Another secret violation of the law. “It still feels like we… lost something.”“We did lose something,” says Carlos. “It was just a name, but names are important.”

One of the reasons I love writing Carlos and Julie’s friendship so much is because it’s such a relationship of equals. They’re both hypercompetent, pragmatic, and a little ruthless; their skill sets don’t have much overlap (at least, not yet) and their personalities aren’t at all similar, but they get each other and it’s so sweet. When they wander out of their respective areas of expertise, or stumble across some kind of dilemma, they feel comfortable asking each other for guidance – they can admit their ignorance and drop their public facades of Having Their Shit Together because they trust each other.

“I want—” Her mouth opens and shuts again, wordlessly. Her scowl deepens.Then she narrows her eyes and says, “Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra.”

Molly being a huge Trekkie is pretty much my favorite thing from Ghost Story (not to be confused with Ghost Stories)(although thinking about it, swapping their plots would be kind of amazing??), so of course I wanted her and Julie to interact in a way that showed off what huge nerds they are.

But yet another element I wanted to include in this story is the background detail that ~the masquerade~ must be maintained because it’s too dangerous for humanity as a whole to be fully cognizant of the supernatural – which tends to get a little lost in the sauce, because the supernatural is consistently super duper powerful and our heroes (most of them pretty supernatural themselves) generally avert disaster by the skin of their teeth. But here’s Julie, just a regular human who’s capable of producing terrifying technology, has no concern for the rules and traditions of ancient regimes unless they’re inconveniencing her, and who would be perfectly fine with upending the status quo just to see what happens. Regular humans just aren’t more flexible about change than the supernatural, they’re even curious about it sometimes – which must be terrifying to something like the Winter Court, which has been devoted to maintaining the same strict balance since forever. Regular humans can do stuff like tell a story so well it inspires the Winter Lady to subvert her magical restrictions and remind her of her own humanity.

Julie grumpily emails him a rough summary of her thoughts on Troy Walsh and her conversation with Molly and heads up to her office to pull up everything she has on both the bus garage and the man in the tan jacket.

Bullshit secretkeeping (“I can’t tell the other main character this important plot point, it’s better if they don’t know”) is one of my least favorite tropes and I avoid it at all costs. It’s such a stupid way to add tension. It can maybe work once, but after your character has inevitably watched it backfire spectacularly, you can’t repeat it ever again unless you want to imply they’re a dumbass who never learns from their own mistakes and apparently doesn’t care that it clearly puts everyone in more danger. ::looks pointedly at a certain book series::

Also, it’s almost always much more interesting to have characters try to share important information. If they don’t succeed, it coats everything in ironic horror as the outcomes one person tried to avoid happen despite their best efforts. If they do succeed, it means everyone is fully cognizant of the potential danger even as they are still prevented from acting on it properly, like because they (e.g.) get kidnapped in the middle of the street.

King City is not in the correct dimension. The man in the tan jacket seems to know something about this, but up until a year ago he wasn’t drawing attention to it. He was busy poking his nose into everyone’s business, ingratiating himself with the powerful and the influential, dealing with them in secret…basically, the SOP of your typical Night Vale authority.Like the Night Vale Area Transit Authority, with its bus route to… King City.They had a job and they chose to keep it, Molly said.“Fuck,” says Julie. “He was working for them!”

In retrospect, it’s hilarious to me how much of this fic was powered by spite. Ghost Stories and Cold Case both really bothered me. The resolution of the Man in the Tan Jacket storyline, meanwhile, felt pretty underwhelming – not because what Finknor came up with wasn’t interesting, but because it barely engaged with the few plot points they had already established. Like, when TMITJ shows up in the podcast he interferes with the Mayor, he’s connected to the city under Lane Five, he surfaces during the Strex Corp arc, he interacts with a whole bunch of series regulars in an ominous fashion… Yeah, that probably came from Finknor dropping him in more or less at random, but the end result was that during the first several years of the show it seemed he was an active driver of whatever his plot was supposed to be. In WTNV: The Novel, though, he’s much more reactive and impotent. This wouldn’t necessarily be bad if this change was acknowledged as part of his storyline, but… it’s not…

(And I get that it can be difficult to come up with a plot for an element you didn’t intend to be plotty at all, but like: there wasn’t THAT much material they had to account for. I should know, I had to look it all up to write THIS story.)

I think this was especially frustrating because it ends up feeling like a “have your cake and eat it too” on the part of Finknor: it’s not automatically bad when fans care more about the show’s continuity than the creators (creators have different concerns, and a lot of time that means they’re using the creative latitude to do something neat), but the novel was very much presented as “finally, a resolution to that one mystery you find cool!” which is… pretty much a direct appeal to the fans’ care about the continuity. So to then ignore or retcon so many aspects of the continuity without any story payoff for it feels like a cheat.

(Ultimately, though, my inspiration to actually sit down and write mainly sprang from 1) all the lovely comments about how so many people loved my OFC, which as someone who started lurking in online fandom in the early 2000s was both mind-boggling and heartwarming, and 2) lol those ladies have the same name. I learned nothing.)

She gets the call at 21:27. She goes to the hospital, although there’s not much point. The human mind is the most powerful thing on the planet and it's housed in a fragile casing of meat and bone.

I’ve mentioned a few times (possibly more than a few)(probably more than a few) that I didn’t like the WTNV live ep Ghost Stories, and that’s because the ~big reveal~ is that Cecil’s story was actually about a personal family tragedy, and once he’s able to admit that, everything is hunky-dory. As I recall, it went something like this:

WTNV: hey remember that time your mom died and your family was thrown into chaos

ME: WELL NOW I DO

WTNV: and on that note, good night everyone!

Needless to say, everything was not hunky-dory.

But on top of being emotionally compromised for the whole following week, I was also professionally annoyed. Prior to this live show, we’d had a few cryptic references to Cecil’s mom and could reasonably infer that his relationship with his sister was strained. Critically, though, neither was their own clearly-defined character (compare to the treatment of Janice or Steve Carlsberg), these were not frequently recurring elements that would suggest they weighed heavily on Cecil’s mind, and it wasn’t even obvious that their backstory WAS particularly tragic. So the emotional lynchpin of this live show was mostly new information about Cecil regarding characters the audience had no connection to.

Tragic narratives are powerful not only because they evoke intense emotions, but also because those emotions are supposed to go somewhere and do something: provide catharsis, reinforce the artist’s philosophy, make the audience ponder the meaning of life... In using a tragedy as a plot twist, your ability to give it the proper emotional arc is very limited, because you have to misdirect from its existence while building it up, and then quickly progress from upsetting emotions to those more appropriate for concluding the story. That’s not impossible, but Ghost Stories immediately throws a wrench in the works by splitting the audience’s emotional journey away from Cecil’s: he already knew about the tragedy and the people involved with it, so the plot twist acts as his emotional catharsis... but only his. When the twist itself is the first time the audience realizes there ARE emotions, and that the first 85% of the show was completely unrelated to them, there’s simply not enough time for the audience to have them, process them according to the story’s weird ramblings that kinda imply fiction based on real life is more important than genre fiction like horror (PS: that’s a WEIRD take for a fictional horror podcast), and reach their own kind of catharsis without it being horrifically rushed. Particularly when they’re having a WAY more emotional response than the character due to their own personal tragedies which they were not expecting to have to think about during a fun podcast live show about ghost stories.

As stuff like this points out, you can’t just sprinkle in character deaths and expect quality entertainment to sprout: there has to be a purpose to putting the tragedy in the story (even if that purpose is to highlight how purposeless tragedy can be in real life). I’ve always been VERY critical of the assumption that tragedy is ~more artistic~, both in historical lit and modern pop culture; sad emotions aren’t inherently more meaningful than happy ones. Merely including tragic events isn’t deep; you have to do the work and make it deep, in its context and development.

So: on to ::gestures proudly:: probably the worst thing I’ve ever written!

From an aesthetic standpoint, I leaned into the Night Vale house style in this section because I found it to be really effective at conveying the enormity of the tragedy for Julie: it’s pretty blunt, just like her, but the focus on oddly specific details, the narrative distancing, and the lurking sense of existential horror seemed a fitting demonstration of how badly the emotional gutpunch disrupted her narration/life.

And I really wanted it to be an emotional gutpunch. (But not a surprise: even if I hadn’t warned for it specifically, Julie mentions Romero dying all the way back in Ch. 10 of Love is All You Need.) This is in part a story about grief and mourning, so the loss that caused it needed a central place. I wanted it to be powerful enough to retroactively fit in with how upset Julie is in the opening chapters and to add real tension to the devil’s bargain the feds want to make with her in the next chapter. But most importantly, I wanted it to be so significant to both Julie and the audience that the end of the story has an impact. Loss doesn’t get “cured” – but it seems to me like it’s not supposed to be. Loss is a part of life; love, in whatever form, helps give you strength as you grow and change from the experience into someone new, and this is also a story about the love in friendship.

I think a lot about the ethics of writing tragic stuff, because when you get right down to it, ultimately art boils down to poking your fingers in someone’s feelings and stirring them around. People get really invested in the stuff you are responsible for creating, and making someone feel bad for no reason isn’t being an artist, it’s being a dick. But I’m very happy with how this turned out, and hopefully didn’t traumatize anyone who didn’t want to be traumatized.

(I do feel bad for everyone who was reading as I posted that had to wait an entire year for the next chapter, though. I wanted to get something up sooner, but I had to wait until I sorted Chapter 6 and Chapter 6 was just. The worst. WORDS ARE HARD. People who read WIPs are braver than any Marine.)

hmu for more dvd commentary!

#muggle-the-hat #love is all you need to destroy your enemies #ask dave #welcome to night vale #the dresden files #fic #writing

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friendlylocalwhumper · 5 years ago

Note

If those haven't been asked yet: 5, 12 and 17 for Lux, 26 and 44 for Marlow and 39 for both, please!

5. On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?

in lux’s pockets you’ll probably find crumpled up to-do lists, random little useful things like paperclips and band-aids, and maybe some forgotten things like a pressed flower, a neatly folded receipt, and a rubberband knotted into a weird shape!

12. In what situation was your character the most calm they’ve ever been?

lux? calm? gosh that’s a hard one. hmm, probably one of the mornings recently when he’s woken up in bed with emory, all cuddled up, safe and relaxed and certain that he’ll be met with no anger or violence in his day.

17. What was your character’s favorite toy as a child?

lux didn’t have many toys, since his dad basically got frustrated when he saw anything kid-related around the house. but as a baby, lux did have a favorite stuffed animal, an octopus. he liked to let it flop down on him and to see all the legs wiggle, it made him laugh. when he was a toddler and a bit older, it got pretty ragged and even lost a leg or two, but he still slept with it every night. he pretended that the eight legs sprawled over his belly were giving him a big octopus hug, and he believed that if he was holding it, then he was safe. this was proved to be false.

26. How does your character behave around children?

marlow’s vacantly amused by kids. he listens to them closely - doesn’t understand their reasoning most of the time, but he treats them how he would treat adults. he’s got a mild and pleasant personality, so kids generally like him, if they’re not put off by his clear gender non-conformity.

44. How easy or difficult is it for your character to say “I love you?” Can they say it without meaning it?

marlow doesn’t say he loves anyone except for sir. his understanding of love is very skewed by his conditioning. he says it on instinct to sir, and outside of that, he doesn’t think about love. although does really, really, really like dev.

39. Has your character ever been bitten by an animal? How were they affected (or unaffected)?

lux has never been bitten by an animal! marlow has been nibbled at by sunny, and bitten by a racoon, but nothing serious. he doesn’t like racoons or rats at all, he avoided them as much as he could while living on the street, scared that they’d bite him. he wouldn’t blame sunny if he bit marlow, so he’s not affected at all by having been nibbled and nipped at in the past by his puppy.

#answered #ocs #abuse tw #vickytokio

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dam-those-words · 5 years ago

Text

15 Questions Tag Game!

I was (kinda) tagged by @georgiacambrielwritblr!

Rules: Pick a character (or two in my case) from your WIP and have them answer these 15 questions, then tag 15 people!

(Also, I already had this post done but when I tried to post it Tumblr went Thud appearently and deleted it instead, so I had to start over. Sorry for the long wait Georgia lol)

1. What is your full name?

" I'm Aniol Kaminski," The dirty-blonde male on the interviewer's right ruffles his red and gold wings. It takes most of the interviewer's willpower to not stare at them while shaking his hand; of course they've seen wings before, but never like these.

"Mattea Sarai," Says the platinum blonde on the interviewer's left. She completely disregards the interviewers outstretched hand and instead sits back in her wooden chair and crosses her arms.

2. What does it mean?

"Mine means something like, 'Stone Angel,' in Polish, so that's pretty cool." Aniol's voice is a growly-type deep, and paired with his thick accent, it takes the interviewer a second the realize what he said.

"You're so lucky. [Throwback to when his name was actually Lucky lmao] My name means some bullshit like, 'Princess,' or 'God's Gift,' or something. Makes me wanna barf just thinking about it." Mattea says, making a puking gesture.

"Woah there, young lady. Who taught you to cuss?" Aniol grins at her, but the way he flashes it makes it seem more like baring his teeth.

Mattea raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean, 'Who taught you to cuss?' Have you heard yourself?" She leans forward in her wooden chair, putting her elbows on her knees.

Aniol leans forward, copying Mattea. He whispers-- well more like growls-- something too quiet for the interviewer to hear, but makes the rage in Mattea's eyes simmer.

The tension in the room makes the interviewer realize that the wooden table in between them would do nothing if the got into a fight as bad as they'd been rumored to. The interviewer clears their throat and asks the next question.

3. Do you two have any nicknames or other names?

"I don't really have any, but this little devil does call me Bird Boy more often than she calls me Aniol," Aniol nodded towards the girl across the wooden table.

Mattea had snatched a peanut butter cookie from the gold-lined plate in the middle of the table, and now had a mouthful of cookie. She somehow still managed to say, "Are you forgetting about Jexi calling you Ann? Like, Ann of Green Gables?"

Aniol simply rolls his eyes, replying, "I'm not forgetting, I'm just ignoring the fact that you've appearently eavesdropped. And don't talk while eating,"

"Its not like I try to listen to everything that happens in your guys' rooms, especially at night when you guys--"

"Anyway, why don't you tell them what your nickname is?" His cheeks are a bright red as he talks.

Mattea smiles, relaxing a little and shrugging. "I don't really have any, either. Oh, well, Mayson calls me Matt sometimes. But other than that, none."

4. What's your gender?

"Male, obviously," Aniol says, the pink already fading.

"Female," Mattea answers.

"God, we're so boring. I wish we had Dani so they could spice it up," There's a tinge of sadness in his voice. He frowns down at his hands where he holds a small paperclip he had been figiting with, his short and jagged hair falling into his eyes.

Mattea's eyebrows scrunch for a split second before a mask of arrogance passes over he features, and she says, "Speak for yourself, amigo. I'm the most interesting out of the entire Assassin's."

Aniol's returning look is so full of an emotion that the interviewer can't place, but still makes them look away and clear their throat yet again.

5. What is your sexuality?

"I'm pansexual," Aniol says quickly, sitting back in his chair and grabbing a cookie.

The confusion must have shown on the interviewer's face, since Aniol adds on, in a matter-of-fact tone, "It means that I can like anyone, regardless of their gender."

The interviewer nods and turns towards Mattea for an answer.

She had become a completely different person than she was about five seconds ago: she had somehow scrunched in on herself, grabbing her arms as if she were cold. Her lips were pursed.

"I--uh, I don't... I think--" Mattea is interrupted again by Aniol, but this time her expression changes to relief instead of amusement.

"We've talked about it before, and Mattea would like to not answer that question. If we could move on, that'd be great." He says in the same matter-of-fact tone as earlier.

6. Where are you from?

"Poland, though you can probably tell," Aniol says, his accent somehow becoming thicker than before.

Mattea clears her throat, the tension slowly leaving her body. "I'm from here. Akida."

7. How old are you?

"I'm 25. I was born on October 2nd, 2005." Aniol says.

"I'm only two years younger than him, and yet he somehow thinks that he's sooo--" Mattea does jazz hands as she speaks. "--much smarter and wiser than me, even though I obviously am the smarter one."

Aniol rolls his eyes, throwing the last bit of his cookie at her. He hits her directly in the forehead. His eyes go wide.

There's a moment of silence before they both burst out laughing. It fills the small room, and the interviewer can't help but join them.

8. Any special talents?

"Not really. I mean, I'm pretty good at baseball, but my wings get in the way for any sport." Aniol ruffles his wings again in emphasis. The interviewer silently thanks themselves again for remembering to get a special chair to accommodate his wings.

"I'm good at using most weapons, besides those stupid miscellaneous ones. I'm also good at braiding my own hair, which is something even Jexi can't do." Mattea figits with her hair tie, throwing Aniol an arrogant grin.

"Hey, you should put all that on your future resumes. I'm great at weapons, also known as murder, I can tie my hair back like any normal human, and I can be incredibly stupid! I'm the whole package!" Aniol mocks, making his deep voice extremely high.

The interviewer tenses, but is pleasantly surprised when all Mattea does is laugh and look expectantly for the next question.

9. Any kids?

Mattea bark-laughs again, shaking her head vigorously.

Aniol only shrugs his shoulders and says, "In the future, if my partner wants them. But none right now,"

10. What's your aesthetic?

Mattea interrupts Aniol before he has a chance to open his mouth, ticking the subjects off on her fingers as she talks, "Water fountains, pale roses, lip balm, pastel colors, stationary--"

It's Aniol's turn to cut her off, asking what an aesthetic is.

"It's like... your vibes. Like, for you it would be something like... maybe lots of grey and orange things." Mattea explains.

"That sounds stupid, but whatever. I guess mine is cobblestone, rain... uh, bright orange feathers and pumpkins. I don't know what it means, don't laugh at me!" He adds when Mattea tries to cover her laugh up with a cough.

11. Who's your best friend?

"Jexi,"

"Are you sure it's only best friend? Nothing else?" Mattea prods at Aniol's answer.

"Oh shut up. What about you and Mayson, huh?" He snaps back. Her cheeks turn as red as Aniol's cheeks earlier.

"That's not important,"

"Mhm," Though their words suggest tension, their eyes are full of amusement.

12. Would you ever get piercings or tattoos?

"I already have a tattoo," Aniol says, pulling up his grey sleeve to show a black and white tattoo of an arrow on his bicep.

"Wait, when did you get that?" Mattea asks, leaning forward to see it better.

"Jexi gave it to me when we were nineteen,"

Mattea's eyebrows rise. "Jexi did? And you still refuse to acknowledge the fact that she's--"

"Did I not make myself clear, Matt?" Aniol snarls, letting his sleeve fall down.

Mattea snarls right back.

The interviewer hastily asks the next question, hoping to change their focus onto them.

13. When are you happiest?

Aniol throws Mattea one last death glare before ruffling his wings yet again. "When I'm flying,"

"With a certain someone," Mattea tries to whisper but the interviewer hears her anyway, smirking.

"Do you have a death wish or what, Matt?"

"Name a time when I didn't,"

Aniol starts to respond but is cut off by the interviewer, still desperately hoping to get through this interview without a fight. The interviewer asks Mattea the question again.

"If I'm honest, I really like sketching. And archery. And I do like to banter with this idiot," She smiles again, but it's (thankfully) filled with much less venom than before.

That quickly, the tension leaves the room. The interviewer was amazed at their ability to start and end an argument in less than a minute. No wonder these two were always in trouble.

14. What's your biggest secret?

"Oooh, that's a good one. Why don't you go first, Aniol?" Mattea claps her hands, threading them together and putting them on her now crossed legs.

"Oh, uh. I guess... I'm terrified of spiders. Like, I hate then with my whole being,"

Mattea seemingly can't help but laugh at that, trying again and failing at turning it into a cough.

"Hey, you're scared of them, too! Don't you remember when you made Noah switch sleeping bags with you because you thought there was a spider in yours?" Aniol hastily defends himself.

"Yeah, but," Mattea is laughing so hard she can barely talk.

It takes longer than the interviewer would have liked for Mattea to finally calm down, and to ask the question again.

"I think my biggest secret is how I got this necklace and why." Mattea answers, holding out a silver chain with a half-cresent moon dangling on it.

When she doesn't continue, the interviewer decides to move on and get this interview over with.

15. Last question: What's the first thing you notice about people?

"Hmm. I think I notice how they move firstly. That alone tells you a lot about them," Mattea answers, nodding at her own answer.

A grin creeps onto Aniol's face at her, but he only says, "I notice their eye or lips first. I don't really know why, and I honestly should notice their movement first, but," He shrugs.

Oh jeez, I'm sorry for the long post lmao!

And idk about 15 people, since tumblr might decide to not actually tag them, but I'll try as many as I can think of!

@supersockosis @toboldlywrite @quillwritten @quilloftheclouds @fruzsiwrites @reeseweston @writeness @bartlebyboys @pens-swords-stuff @msmeaghanrey

As always, you dont have to do this is you dont want to (or already did it), and if I didnt tag you feel free to do it anyway and say I tagged you!

#tag games #tag game #long post #sorryyyyy #i know im a hypocrite lmao #my ocs #mattea sarai #aniol kaminski #btw theyre pronounced exactly how they look #well #aniol is ann yule #but besides that #yeah

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emmaberrysworld · 6 years ago

Text

Blends - MacGyver AU

A/N

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’m in the process of starting to pack to go back to uni, whilst catching up on shows that I watch with my Dad.

Have you liked the first two parts? I’d love to know, and feel free to give me criticism. I won’t improve without it, and it could help me further develop my own feedback method.

I’m rambling (as usual), but I hope you enjoy part three. I hope you enjoy this chapter from Mac’s perspective.

-Emmaberry-

Delete the pronouns as applicable. I personally write for a female reader, but I don’t want to assume all my readers are of one gender.

Song of the preference: 12 Days of Christmas

Tags:

@toomanyfandomsshreya

Want to be included on my tags list for this fanfiction, or any others I post, let me know.

Previously:

You couldn’t read the rest of the instructions, your attention being called elsewhere. But you would definitely try it for next week.

A week had passed since Mac last saw you in Blends, and in that week, he had decided to write you a Christmas card. Jack and Bozer were the most surprised that Mac was partaking in something as arbitrary as writing a Christmas card.

‘You know Mac, when writing a Christmas card, you at least need to know the persons name.’ Jack comments, handing Mac a pen. ‘I do know his/her/their name. It’s Y/N/N.’ ‘Mac, that’s a nickname.’ Bozer tells him. ‘So I won’t write her name.’ He shrugs. ��Do you know his/her/their name?’ ‘No,’ Replied Bozer. ‘I’m just saying, you should really get their name before you give him/her/them a card.’ ‘Everything will be fine.’ Mac replied, continuing to write the card.

Like usual, he was first to arrive at Blends. He grinned when more convincing “snow” fell onto his jacket. Stepping inside and closing the door, the warmth of the cafe immediately enveloped him. He shuffled to the side, observing you serve a customer. You were moving with such ease, and a smile was on your face. He noticed, though you were making small talk, you were more concerned with making the coffee, and your smile only widened when you spotted him lurking in the corner. The Christmas card felt like it was burning in his pocket, though he tried to convince himself it was just because it was warm in Blends. You were sporting a rather festive, but ugly Christmas jumper over your usual black shirt, and black trousers.

As soon as you had finished serving the customer, Mac walked over. He took the card out of his pocket, before he chickened out, and handed it to you. You blushed, the red looking more festive than any of the Christmas blushes he’d seen. ‘Thank you,’ you tell him. ‘That’s very sweet of you.’ Before you took his order, you turned and grabbed an envelope off the side. ‘As it so happens, a turtle dove happened to tell me you needed a Christmas card as well.’ ‘Turtle doves don’t fly in America.’ Mac commented. ‘It would be highly unlikely they would come across to America anyway.’ ‘I was only referencing the song,’ you laugh. Mac thinks your laugh is wonderful, and gives a half smile. ‘But as you’re so knowledgeable on turtle doves, the European turtle doves are migratory. They spend their winters in Southern Africa, so it is indeed highly improbable they would be here in America, at this point in time.’ You wink at him. ‘Your usual?’ Mac shakes his head, glancing at the menu. ‘I’ll have a hot chocolate with whipped cream, marshmallows, chocolate flake, a gingerbread man, and a sausage bap.’ He meets your e/c eyes, and believes he sees the slightest hint of mirth in them. He pays the total, this one nearing ten dollars, and heads to the table, before he can make a fool of himself.

Alternating between staring out the window, and looking at you work, Mac shoves his hand in his pocket and pulls out a few paperclips. Not really focusing, he doesn’t realise what he has crafted until you place his food in front of him. Your Christmas card to him is on the side of the tray, and he swears he smell a hint of cinnamon on the envelope. Later, he would discover it was your gingerbread perfume, that you had chosen to wear until you could buy some more deodorant. You couldn’t help it, it smelt nice, and you didn’t care if it was a female product.

He opened his card, before his friends arrived. He figured you would not want to be embarrassed by him showing his friends in plain sight, so he would wait until later to tell them, even if it meant suffering through Jack’s persistent asking, or Nikki and Thornton lightly teasing him about this crush.

Merry Christmas Blondie. I’m still calling you that Mac, you can’t stop me. Have a great Christmas, and a wonderful new year. Thank you for all the tips, and enjoying the coffee I brew. I hope you’ll stick around as a customer. Y/N/N

Mac was slightly disappointed that you put your nickname rather than your actual name, but for the time being, he’d be okay. He traced your handwriting, jumping when Bozer sat in front of him. ‘You have got it bad. Just tell him/her/them.’ He hissed. ‘No.’ Mac replied. ‘I’m a customer. That’s all.’ He quickly put the card in his jacket pocket, ignoring Bozer’s raised eyebrow. ‘So... did you give Y/N/N their card?’ He asked. ‘Keep it down. We’re in the same building.’ Hissed Mac. ‘Come on Mac.’ Bozer grinned. ‘You’re like a lovesick puppy. Jack will find love before you do.’

Mac laughed, ducking his head when you looked over.

‘In my own time Boze,’ he replied. ‘Besides, with my job, it’s difficult. Long hours and business trips away... he/she/they deserve more.’

Mac successfully dodged a lot of questions about how you received the Christmas card, which meant he had to tell Thornton and Nikki that he had done it, and if he was going to tell you anytime soon. He assured his friends that when the time was right, he would know. Until then, he was content with trying to convince himself all he would ever be was a customer.

As he sat in his room that night, he looked over the Christmas card once more. Maybe Christmas wouldn’t be so bad this year. He furrowed his brow seeing one more sentence on the other side of the card, one that he hadn’t noticed before. Taking the card, he read it with a smile.

You’re cute covered in fake snow.

He sat back on his bed, ignoring the heat rising in his cheeks. You thought he was cute! He felt like such a teenage girl in high school, but that was reassuring that you thought of him as more than just a customer in Blends. He allowed himself a moment to just imagine that he was more of a welcome interloper in your life, rather than just a stranger in the coffee shop.

That night, he fell asleep with dreams of you, and the coffee shop.

A/N

Hope you all enjoyed. Feel free to feedback!

See you soon!

-Emmaberry-

Masterlist | Part Two | Part Four

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septima-vec · 7 years ago

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Septima Vector Survey

Basics:

Character’s Name → Septima

Character’s Nickname(s) → Sep/Vec

Age → 16

Birthdate → September 17th, 1962

Zodiac Sign → Virgo

Ethnicity → English

Gender → Female

Sexual Orientation → Straight

Blood Type → A positive

Species → Pureblood

Appearance:

Hair color → Hazel

Eye color → Medium brown

Height → 5 ft 2 in

Weight → 119

Scars → Small one on her thumb

Tattoos → None

Birthmarks → Inner knee on left leg

Piercings → Ears

Dress/clothing preferences → Casual, jeans and a t-shirt, with the occasional skirt or dress

Right/left handed/ambidextrous → Right handed

Glasses/contacts → None

Wizarding World:

Blood Status → Pureblood

School Attended → Hogwarts

School House → Hufflepuff

War Alliance → Undecided

Wand → 10 inches, unicorn tail hair, alder

Patronus → Seal

Boggart → A mass of centipedes

Amortentia → Firewhiskey, fresh snow, cookies

Mirror Of Erised → Septima aged 25, with her husband beside her, a three year old in his arms, and an infant in hers

Family and Relationships:

Parents → Her mother is named Jocelyn, she’s very strictly in support of pureblood supremacy, and her father is names Ediwn, who is very strictly opposing pureblood supremacy

Siblings → None

Grandparents → Deceased

Marital Status → Single

Significant Other → None

Children → None

Pets → A grey tabby named Alexandra

Other family members → She has a few distant cousins

Friends → Barty Crouch, Gideon Prewett, Hope Scamander, Lucius Malfoy (kinda)

Enemies → None, but she highly dislikes Dolores Umbridge

Religion:

The religion they follow (if any) → Vaguely believes in God

Superstitions → She has a lucky ring she wears on her right pinky

Location:

Country of Birth → Britain

Place of Birth (Town, city, etc) →

First Language → Edinborough

Accents → English

Schooling:

House → Hufflepuff

Best Subject in School → Arithmancy

Worst Subject in School → Charms

Additional Classes Taken → Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, Potions, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Arithmancy

Quidditch → She has never flown before

Are they a Prefect? → Nope

Extra curricular activities → Potions club, herbology club

Home:

Live with parents/grandparents/alone/other → Splits her time between her father’s and mother’s

House, apartment, etc → Houses

How Many Bedrooms? → Her father’s has three, and her mother’s has five

Mode of transportation → Walking, or floo powder

Address → Her father’s home is in Whitby, while her mother’s is in a wizarding village outside of London.

Picture of bedroom at home → Father’s house is first photo, and mother’s is second photo.

Inner Workings Of Your Character:

Secrets → Septima gets a secret joy from fires.

Fears → Centipedes, her parents

Worries → Her current indecision with the war

Eating Habits → Lots of pastries

Food preferences → Pastries

Sleep preferences → Lying on her back

Book preferences → Arithmancy

Music preferences → Muggle rock

Introverted/extroverted → Extroverted

Optimist/pessimist → Slightly more on the pessimistic side

Hobbies → Arithmancy! & reading

Pet peeves → Rudeness (even if she’s the one doing it)

Prejudices → Rude people

Proud of → Her arithmancy skill

Biggest vulnerability → She is easily persuaded

Embarrassed by → Her hair and face in the morning and after crying

Worst memory → Her parents splitting up, and them each trying to persuade her of their beliefs directly after

Best memory → Sitting on the docks midsummer, listening to some Muggle music and sunbathing

Skilled at → Arithmancy and being convivial

Unskilled at → Charms

Attitude → Generally very friendly, but indecisive and confused by morality

Obsessions → None

Stresses → The war

Addictions → Wearing her lucky ring

Allergies → None

Medical history → She broke her leg when she was 2 but doesn’t have much otherwise

Favourite Object Kept In - And Why:

Their closet → Her favorite olive dress with a crocheted top half

Their bedroom → Her arithmancy books

Their purse/bag → Her licorice wands

Their fridge → Firewhiskey

Their desk → Her colored paperclips (they just look nice)

Their pockets → Licorice wands

Favourites:

Favorite Animal: → The Giant Squid

Favorite Band: → Beatles

Favorite Book: → Her current arithmancy textbook

Favorite Color: → Orange

Favorite Country: → The UK

Favorite Drink: → Firewhiskey

Favorite Food: → Cookies

Favorite Flavor: → Black licorice

Favorite Movie: → The movie adaptation of Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump

Favorite Musical Genre: → Rock

Favorite Mythical Creature: → The Giant Squid

Favorite Number: → 17

Favorite Pastime: → Reading

Favorite Person: → Barty Crouch

Favorite Place: → The docks in the summertime

Favorite Season: → Spring

Favorite Song: → Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds

Favorite Spell: → Jelly legs jinx

Least Favorite Animal: → Centipede

Least Favorite Band: → Frank Sinatra

Least Favorite Book: → Anything to do w Charms

Least Favorite Color: → Grey

Least Favorite Country: → France

Least Favorite Drink: → Pumpkin juice

Least Favorite Food: → Ham

Least Favorite Flavor: → Paprika

Least Favorite Movie: → The black and white French version of Beauty and the Beast

Least Favorite Musical Genre: → Country

Least Favorite Mythical Creature: → Grindylow

Least Favorite Number: → 13

Least Favorite Pastime: → Lying in bed with nothing to focus on

Least Favorite Person: → The beast from the black and white French version of Beauty and the Beast

Least Favorite Place: → The Forbidden Forest

Least Favorite Season: → Summer

Least Favorite Song: → Polythene Pam

Least Favorite Spell: → Aguamenti

Sexual Life:

Gender You Last Had Sex With: → Male

Dominant or Submissive: → Neither, specifically (she’s not incredibly experienced)

Fetishes: → Unknown

Turnons: → Neck kissing and general grabbing

Turn-offs: → Mean names

Favourite Position: → On top

How Active is Your Sex Life: → Not extremely

How Did You Lose Your Virginity: → Over the summer after her fourth year with a Muggle boy

Ever Impregnated Someone or Been Pregnant → Nope

First Love: → Hasn’t had it

Who Do You Find Attractive → Barty Crouch, Gideon Prewett, Malachai Greengrass, Caradoc Dearborn, Gilderoy Lockhart, James Potter, Rodolphus Lestrange

Marital Status: → Single

Do You Have A Significant Other (if yes, how do you feel about them): → Nope

Personality Classification:

Jung → ISTP

Enneagram → Helper

Moral Alignment → True Neutral

Four Temperaments → Sanguine

Vices → Licorice and being easily persuaded

Virtues → Helpful

Tropes → [ This page no longer exists ]

Statistics:

Compassion → 7/10

Empathy → 9/10

Creativity → 6/10

Mental Flexibility → 10/10

Passion/Motivation → 8/10

Intelligence → 6/10

Stamina → 4/10

Physical Strength → 4/10

Battle Skill → 6/10

Initiative → 8/10

Restraint → 8/10

Agility → 9/10

Strategy → 7/10

Teamwork → 9/10

#bellumvecharacterdev1

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shutupandblog · 7 years ago

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cute tags

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? // more milk! 2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? // YES OMG YES. 3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? // forks, notes, socks....anything I find in that moment... 4: how do you take your coffee/tea? // tea: just with water. coffee: flavoured creamer.... 5: are you self-conscious of your smile? // YEAH. 6: do you keep plants? // my mom forces her plants onto me so I have unexpected children to take care of. 7: do you name your plants? // no, I'll feel bad if I forget their names. 8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? // songwriting 9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? // sing out loud, man. but yeah. 10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? // fall asleep on back easiest but wake up on my side. 11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends? // innovation at its finest, man. 12: what's your favorite planet? // saturn 13: what's something that made you smile today? // finding some of my old songs and realizing that they're not ALL lost. I was a genius in 2014 and backed it up on usb wow 14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? // open concept omf hit me with the natural light and big windows. no walls. big kitchen. no curtains. piano. hardwood. pictures in frames. 15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! // "The Apollo astronauts' footprints on the moon will probably stay there for at least 100 million years." Source: https://www.google.ca/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=3&ved=0ahUKEwji75-ZwYXXAhWqxFQKHSroDssQFggxMAI&url=http%3A%2F%2Fmashable.com%2F2014%2F03%2F05%2Fsun-stars-space-facts%2F&usg=AOvVaw2BqM1yEL36GBccqMtEtOWs) 16: what's your favorite pasta dish? // i don't normally eat pasta so every time i see pasta i'll take anything. 17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? // grey and lavender. 18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. // 19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? // i keep a lyric dump journal! 20: what's your favorite eye color? // GREEN 21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. // my navy backpack was with my throughout high school and ib and i'm still using it in uni, so it's been to hell twice. 22: are you a morning person? // hell no 23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? // listen to all my cd's and find new artists...song write...listen to more music... 24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? // yes 25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into? // lol none 26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit? // threw them out yo 27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor? // banana 28: sunrise or sunset? // sunrise 29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? // my one friend has a habit of crossing her legs and tapping her foot that’s in the air when she listens / hums music and it’s sO CUTE. 30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? // yeah. my mom went through a rough time and I hated being awake. 31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. // in general: no socks. Weird socks are cool. I usually take off my socks as soon as I walk in through the front door. If I wear songs, they’re ankle length. Can’t do anything higher than that. I hate tights, I don’t do tights. 32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. // i literally think we woke up at 4 to watch MAMA 2015 together. 33: what's your fave pastry? // i have no idea....bread pudding served on pie crust and ice cream? 34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? // it’s gone. but it was called bonsai and it was a giant ass panda and i miss it. I had to get rid of it because we were moving and its head got ripped off. Or, ripped in half should I say. 35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? // I love them but I never indulge in it!!! alkjngakjdfd 36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now? // my mood right now? omg bts - wings. 37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? // messy. 38: tell us about your pet peeves! // wet bathroom floors, getting my socks wet, sweaty in the winter, when people touch my things and don’t put them back where they are supposed to be so i can’t find it ugh, touching people’s food while doing dishes (SCRAPE YOUR PLATE @ SIBLINGS), people stepping on my shoes, looming too close to me while talking....etc.... 39: what color do you wear the most? // grey, black, pink. 40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you? // all my jewelry is meaningless bc I bought it all myself. Ahh- I have this one pearl necklace that my grandpa and dad bought for me in china and I haven’t worn it once. 41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving? // gallagher girls series 42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! // i’m not a coffee person 43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? // myself a few mornings ago when I was going to my lab and waiting at the bus stop. 44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? // when i was in hawaii doing the longest hike of my life and finally reaching the “end” of the island and you could see no city. Just sea lions, turtles and water. Dark stones. Wind. It was just myself and it was quiet and it was so beautiful. I have so many videos. 45: do you trust your instincts a lot? // fuck that shit, I got so many q’s wrong on tests because of it. 46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. // gravity sucks. 47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? // onions omf 48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? // the dark. and yeah. 49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? // I LOVE CDs. Last record I bought: paramore- after laughter (i think). 50: what's an odd thing you collect? // cineplex tickets and guitar picks. 51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? // my friend S- I associate her with the song “Tokyo Jellybean” by Ingrid St-Pierre. She’s one of my favourite artists. I have never told her this. 52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? lol cracking a cold one with the boys bc my psych always opens a pop can in the middle of this lecture (ALL THE TIME) and i just get reminded. 53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? only heathers bc my friend showed it to me and I really liked it! 54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? // my friend Y. 55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point? // raised my voice? 56: what are some things you find endearing in people? // being completely absorbed in their work, drinking coffee and looking out the bus window, falling asleep in random places. 57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? // uhh i just use this song to check if my right headphone is working lol 58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? // wine mom is T and vodka aunt is Y. I mean, if you meet them you’ll know. 59: what's your favorite myth? // im uneducated 60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? // i like poetry- short poetry. 61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received? // I gave cough drops / i received paperclip holders 62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? // i’m a morning water person 63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? // YEAH I AM. Bookshelf man. 64: what color is the sky where you are right now? // black 65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with? // no bc if I haven’t seen you in a long time, I’ve probably dropped you. 66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? // baby’s breath, blue bells, daisy. 67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? // I LIVE FOR THOSE DAYS 68: what's winter like where you live? // either snowy heaven or mushy hell 69: what are your favorite board games? // i’m basic, so monopoly. 70: have you ever used a ouija board? / no 71: what's your favorite kind of tea? // oolong or vanilla something.... 72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it? // yeah i really need to 73: what are some of your worst habits? // drop my clothes all over the bedroom floor and leave them there. 74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. // a breath of fresh air 75: tell us about your pets! // i had a goldfish once but on the car ride home to my house it died. 76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't? // STUDYING WTF AM I DOING ANSWERING A 100 QUESTION TAG 77: pink or yellow lemonade? // PINK 78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? // i’m a spectator 79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? // painted me fake polaroids and stuck them in a colouring book omg 80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? // tan. it’s the colour of my entire house. 81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. // didn’t pass engl man i can’t do this 82: are/were you good in school? // i WAS 83: what's some of your favorite album art? // rise against, fob, volbeat, ingrid st pierre, ts, bts. 84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? // i’ve always wanted a roman numeral tattoo but i don’t do commitment. 85: do you read comics? what are your faves? // i only read peanuts and archie as a kid 86: do you like concept albums? which ones? // i only listen to pink floyd ..the wall. 87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? // not a movie person. can’t comment. 88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? // idk.... 89: are you close to your parents? // sure 90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. // tokyo omg god save me 91: where do you plan on traveling this year? // the farthest i’ll get is my bed 92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? // barely sprinkles a pinch 93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most? // up 94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? // my auntie 95: what are your plans for this weekend? // this weekend is over and so is my academic career 96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? // procrastinate 97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? // 1. don’t know, 2. scorpio, 3. ravenclaw 98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? // real hike: this summer in hawaii, fake hike: w my friends downtown. I loved both times the same. 99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. // Exo- what if/my answer, Taylor- all too well/never grow up, Shawn: running low, Alessia: my song, Bts: sea, Pierre Luc lessard: sans combat 100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? // 5 years in the future. The past 5 years have been hard.

I tag: @kabul1998, @iamnotmadamebovary

#tags

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