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katierosefun · 4 years

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creator tag

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

thank you @kckenobi and @pandora15 for the tag!! <3 so here are the works, in no particular order and also oh gee i am so sorry this got so painfully long you can tell i’m procrastinating on my final + also i just tend to run my mouth when im talking about writing asdffd

to these memories (After Darth Sidious is defeated, everything changes. Some for the better, others not so much. Mostly better though. (Or: Anakin becomes a dad. Rex rehabilitates clone troopers who no longer want to be a part of the army. Ahsoka gets a call from an old friend. And maybe Obi-Wan finds out it’s not just his enemies who don’t stay dead. Basically, everyone gets the happy ending they deserve.)

so this was my first major longform tcw fic, and i just. i have a lot of feelings about this fic, mostly nostalgia and lots of gratefulness. first of all, i think i met a lot of super cool people through this fic, and i also? just? idk, this was a major project that i kind of worked on to cope with post-tcw sadness + also just. general sadness about the world’s situation. writing this story was actually super healing for me, mostly because i just. really wanted to have something where happy endings existed.

so this really...was an experience, and i’m so super grateful for everyone who read along. to this day, whenever i get a comment about this fic, i feel super happy because it makes me feel glad to know that there were some people who took comfort in this work, because i really wanted this fic to have that kind of effect on people. :’)

there they are (Right before Ahsoka leaves for Mandalore, Rex distracts Bo-Katan so she could give her family a proper goodbye. (There's hugging. We just needed our trio to hug.)

i think this was one of my first tcw fics of 2020, and. i just remember impulse writing this after watching old friends not forgotten because i was just. so sad that we didn’t get an anakin and ahsoka hug or a trio hug or anything. i understand why they didn’t--like, i really, really do, but. but i think if there’s a theme i’m going through this year, it’s ‘this was sad, so i’m gonna make it happy!!!’, so...as my masterlist puts it, ‘dave filoni said no trio hug, so i said fine, i’ll do it’.

uhhhhh, how very unusual of me, but!!! probably my working on a new original story. i’ve got the fourth draft of another story siting in the background, but. this other story idea came at me, and five outlines later, i started this story. i’m about three chapters down now, but. a snippet of the prologue:

“Well…it’s also a rather important story,” Rosalind said. “Do you enjoy stories?”

“I want to be a writer,” I blurted, and I stopped at that. I fiddled with my mug, heat that had nothing to do with the hot chocolate or the fire rushing to my face. Silly, oversharing me—oh, what a young, lonely child I was back then. So desperate for conversation that I had grown out of practice and resorted to sharing details that the average stranger would not care for.

But then again, these were not the average strangers—although I’m sure you’ve figured that for yourself.

“Yes,” I said meekly. “I enjoy stories.”

“Well,” Dae said after some time, “it’s good that you’re a writer.”

I lifted my head, and this time, I saw Dae and Rosalind smile at each other. A softer smile, one that made me feel suddenly dreadfully, dreadfully lonely.

“You might want to write this down,” Rosalind said at last.

And so I did.

*and cue the actual story* i won’t say too much because adsfsdfsfd talking about my original work makes me feel awkward + also i am constantly in fear of people stealing ideas even though,,,even though i know the only person who can write this story is me, anyways, but uh. i will say that i have a plan for a five-part series that’s basically about a witch and a princess. there’s a prophecy in the background. there’s magic. there’s rivals to friends to enemies to lovers. there’s father figures + big sister figures + found family + ancient kingdoms + the real world blending with the fantasy world + uh i’ve said enough okeee bye that’s it

the moment was enough (The war ends. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan try to work things out since the last time they actually saw each other.)

it had been a long while since i had written anything that was really just about ahsoka and obi-wan, but. i think everyone knows that i really love my grandpadawan and grandmaster duo? idk, this fic really made me feel things because i was thinking a lot about how obi-wan and ahsoka had left things. i wanted to make it pretty clear that they both clearly care about each other a lot, but like. also. there’s still some hurt there. i just had so much fun writing this, because obi-wan and ahsoka are such an underrated duo and i love them :’)

loose stitches (The discovery and aftermath of Maul. Anakin and Ahsoka find themselves pacing in front of the Council chambers multiple times. They might have taken Obi-Wan to Dex’s. Something might have unraveled, only to be stitched back together.)

kasey before you say anything pls know that i would talk about this fic until literally the day i die i am sorry if i am making you feel self-conscious--but anyways this was a collab with the ever-talented, ever-wonderful @kckenobi. so uh, quick story which mayhaps i might not have told anyone before, but whatever, i’m listening to evermore and therefore have no choice but to be emotional huh--this fic was like...one of the first collabs i’ve ever done? in general, collaborations were always something that made me nervous because it required lots of vulnerability and honesty, and there’s a side of me that’s very obsessed with having this image of Neat Writer Who Has Coherent Thoughts (which,,,doesn’t even exist so why was i obsessed? no idea). so that said, this collab was just. so wild + wonderful because it really was, first of all, such a cool, magical experience. there’s something so amazing and insane about passing words back and forth and like, even a screen apart, there’s something magical about like. sitting down at a laptop at the end of the day and feeling like you’re about to step into a portal where it’s just two people trying to spin a story. writing with kasey was just such a wonderful, absolutely magical experience, and i’m really glad that we got to write this story + the many more that we did. just. there’s something really personal and beautiful about writing until 1, 2, 3 am when the world’s asleep. anyways. magical.

asdfsdfd i’m very sorry that this got so incredibly long, but!! that said, 2020 was a hard year for lots of different reasons both personally + because of *gestures at the world* but. like. i’m really, really glad that i got back to writing clone wars fic this year, because i’ve met so many wonderful, wonderful, wonderful people here, and. yeah. y’all are my serotonin suppliers, and i do refer to a lot of people here as ‘oh yeah, my friend and i were talking the other day about...’ and ‘why are you smiling?’ ‘oh, just something a friend said--’ and. yeah. i hope y’all have a wonderful, wonderful rest of the year + also a wonderful life because y’all are simply the best :’))

no-pressure tags: @lightasthesun @meandmyechoes @soplantyourownflowers @ilonga @sonderwalker @mytardisisparked @60sec400 and really, honestly, anyone else who wants to!!! <333 (like. i mean it. literally. just tag me and lemme scream encouragements at you.)

#tag game #thank you!!#caroline stop writing essays challenge!!!!#i cannot and will not stop writing essays i guess adsfsdf

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gumnut-logic · 4 years

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We’ll Be Home For Christmas 5.2 (Bit 2)

From here | Bit 1 | Bit 2

It took me all week to put this little bit together. Work stress messed me around royally. Fortunately I have some time off lined up in a fortnight, so there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

We’re getting there. I have a list of threads I’m tying off as the boys manipulate me along the way. I hope my stressed out writing is up to par with the rest of the fic - that is one downside of pausing mid-fic for any length of time is that the mood shifts and my writing changes. Also, the format of this fic doesn’t really lend itself to the short posts I’ve been doing of late, but it will have to do. I hope you enjoy this little bit anyway.

Thank you to all of you who have answered my little poll on what to write next. This is the result. Those of you who voted for The Hero, I will get there as well. These three fics demand ends even if it has taken me a year (yes, it is reaching that point for The Hero at least). Thank you all for your wonderful support. You guys continue to just be amazing ::hugs you all so much::

This is for @scattergraph It was last year’s @tagsecretsanta fic and it is still being written, now closer to this year’s Christmas. Apparently, it is We’ll Be Finished For Christmas :D Talk about a fic getting totally out of control. Thank you so much for bearing with me on this tome. I love this fic. It has taught me so much. I just hope I can finish it with due credit to the rest of it.

-o-o-o-

There followed an extensive rundown on a random ball of rock and ice currently traversing their solar system.

It was interesting, Virgil had to admit it, and it was great seeing Alan so enthusiastic about it. Of course, once he started on his heroic tale of his and Scott’s encounter with Halley’s Comet, Virgil found himself tuning out.

He’d heard it a few times already.

At some point he was able to drift away from his babbling brother, step out onto the balcony and grab breakfast off the remains of the buffet that had obviously been left out for him. The last of the morning was as beautiful as the rest of the week had been. He had to admit that they had been very lucky.

A glance down at the caldera as he munched on a pastry, most definitely not cooked by his grandmother, and he spotted A Little Lightning resting quietly at her dock.

He found himself staring at the boat. Her yellow stripe, ever so Gordon, her gleaming hull, their short and shared history…

“She’s a good looking ship.”

Virgil nearly jumped out of his skin for the second time in less than half an hour.

Gordon arched an eyebrow up at him. “You okay, Virg? How are you feeling?”

Exasperated. “I’m fine.” He turned away, his eyes dancing across Mateo and its petrel colony.

A bird squawked loudly as if in recognition.

Gordon snorted. “So I hear.”

Virgil glanced back at his brother. “What?”

All innocence. “What?”

“Gordon...” His tone was all warning.

His brother downed his drink. “So, we going to open that pile of presents or are we keeping them as ornaments?”

Virgil frowned. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh. Johnny had to discover a comet to keep Alan distracted while we were waiting.”

“Sorry.”

Gordon rolled his eyes. “Gees, Virg, it’s not a problem, just c’mon. Join us.” And he was being dragged back into the house where everyone had gathered around the Christmas tree.

For the next hour or so it was simply family, friends, gifts and laughter. Scott in particular, was in a jovial mood, his grin an apparent fixture on his face. Mel was never far from him.

It became very clear that Scott, and possibly Gordon, had been Christmas shopping that morning, probably on the other side of the world, because there were presents under the tree that hadn’t been there the night before. There may have been an abuse of International Rescue technology to obtain it all, but the smiles on their guests’ faces when presented with Christmas gifts may have been worth his brothers’ transgressions.

Almost.

Virgil sat on the lounge, a brother either side of his feet peering up at him as he opened a present wrapped in green tissue paper. The material inside was also green and when he held it up, it unfolded into a t-shirt.

Written across the front were the words ‘I’M FINE’.

Behind the curtain of fabric, a brother snorted.

“Gordon.”

“What?”

Virgil exhaled and dropped his hands into his lap with the shirt. Glaring at his grinning brother, he held Gordon’s gaze for a moment before shuffling out of his seat and standing up.

Both Alan and Gordon scampered away from his feet.

“Virg…” Scott’s tone was worried.

Virgil ignored him and continued to glare at Gordon.

The aquanaut’s expression faltered a little and Virgil mentally tagged himself a point.

He then took the trophy by shucking off his shirt and undershirt in front of all of them.

The breeze was cool through the open doors of the balcony as he awkwardly dragged the new t-shirt over his head, aware of every eye in the room staring at him.

He pulled the green material down over his healing incisions and glared at his brothers, starting with Gordon, who appeared somewhat gobsmacked a moment before once again bursting into a grin, and following around the room to each of his other brothers.

He didn’t fail to notice a strange smile on Kayo’s lips as he did so.

“Now, I hope this means I don’t have to keep repeating myself?”

Silence and lots of staring.

A snort from Gordon. “Sure, Virg. We all think you’re pretty fine.” He followed it with a snicker.

There was an odd sound from Penelope’s direction, but when Virgil darted a look at her, she appeared to be smothering a delicate cough.

Her eyes were sparkling at him though.

Oh, for the love of-

“You’re great, Virgil.” Alan was grinning.

“Like china.” John was not even trying to keep a straight face.

“Whatever you say, Virg.” Scott had his arm around Mel and was grinning like a loon.

Somehow the points were being racked up by his brothers now.

His glare turned flat and he lowered himself awkwardly back onto the lounge. He didn’t miss Gordon’s attempt to reach out and help him.

Another glare and Virgil grunted, crossing his arms across his chest in an almost pout. “You’re lucky I love you guys.”

There was an outburst of more laughter. Virgil tried to hold his disgruntled expression, but a kiss by Grandma on the cheek broke his determination.

“You’re a shit, Gordon.”

“And you love me.” Still grinning.

Virgil couldn’t help himself. He grabbed the Fish by the scruff of his neck and wrangled him into a half hugging noogie, messing his hair up royally. Virgil had to admit that Gordon was likely playing along because his big brother certainly wasn’t up to wrestling with him, and as Penelope burst into laughter, Virgil found himself getting soppy.

The noogie turned into a full-on bear hug.

Chlorine scented hair caught in his nostrils.

“Virg?”

“Huh?”

A wheeze. “Need to breathe.”

“All your fault.” He let his brother go.

Gordon sat up on the lounge, straightening his shirt and running his hands through his hair. A glance of fond exasperation and he turned away. “Okay, Allie, time to see that painting.”

“So, it is a painting?” Alan shot off the floor and dashed over to the tree where the huge present was leaning against the wall.

There followed many exclamations at Virgil’s skill in painting Thunderbird Three in flight. Hell, even John put in a request for one of Five, so maybe he managed the stars part of the project accurately enough.

He must remember to ask Alan to grab some shots of John’s ‘bird next time he was up there. Or maybe he would hitch a ride and go up himself.

That thought led to visualising possible compositions, moving Five around in his head, whether he should include Earth in the background, which bit of Earth – Tracy Island, of course – which constellations, what time of year, whether he could lean on artistic license or whether inaccuracies would bug his brother silly. Most likely the latter, so there would be some research involved. Perhaps Alan could help him with that. Actually, that wouldn’t be a bad idea. A good excuse to spend some time with his little brother.

He eyed Alan and the young astronaut turned a questioning look in his direction. Virgil just smiled a little at him.

Alan’s face burst into a grin and Virgil found himself subject to another brotherly hug. “Thank you, Virgil.”

He returned the hug with gusto. “Anytime, Allie.”

Apparently, today was the day for being soppy because he clutched his brother tighter.

Anytime.

-o-o-o-

TBC

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Alan Tracy #kermadec fic

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thanksjro · 4 years

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More Than Meets the Eye #11- Soak the Matrix in Lemon Juice and Break Out the Hairdryers

So, small problem.

Prowl realized he was in the wrong comic run and had to split.

But not before yelling at Orion about how stupid he thinks this National Treasure bullshit he’s trying to pull is, and makes a request that Chromedome be left out of this whole mess.

Why the fuck wouldn’t you tell him that?

Bye, Prowl. See you later, I guess.

Chromedome and Roller have brought in some help for the heist from the local college. These students were super gung-ho about stealing the Matrix, not because they’re agents of political chaos, but because the Senator has his name attached to this little project. They feel a certain debt to the Senator, since he’s been doing his best to protect them from the Functionist Council.

Gee, wonder who that truck is.

We get a little rundown of our new friends, while Chromedome has a minor temper tantrum in the background.

Skids is also a member of this group, labelled as a super-learner, enough so that it may not even be a voluntary thing on his part.

In the present day, Swerve’s returned from stealing things from Trailcutter’s room, apparently totally unaware of what’s happened to his roommate. You’d think someone would have gotten in contact with him about that.

I mean, maybe? You did say you liked purple.

Swerve lets it slip that this isn’t the only story time circle Rewind’s hosted in an attempt to get Rung’s brain back up to speed… which makes me wonder just how often the medical staff on board the Lost Light actually check on their patients, if Ratchet had been surprised that this event was happening today.

Swerve makes fun of Tailgate for needing to open up the wiki so he can keep track of what’s going on, then goes over to call Rung the wrong name. Swerve is very lucky Rung is essentially in a coma right now, because that’s probably the only thing keeping him from trying to strangle our resident barkeep.

Whirl helps Rung express himself by playing with his eyebrows, a trait which, now that I think about it, probably only exists for expressive purposes, considering that his eyes are covered by his glasses and we can’t see their shape.

Rewind saves Rung from being played with, perhaps solely because he’s a historical constant.

So you’re saying Rung gets around. Nifty.

Rewind decides that they’ve taken enough of a break and it’s time to get back to the juicy stuff, completely blowing off Ratchet’s professional opinion about what to do with Rung.

Nothing gets in the way of story time.

Nothing.

In the past, Orion Pax is poking Skids in the face, specifically in his mini Matrix tattoo, which is giving him ideas. Skids is a little weirded out, but this isn’t about Skids, now is it? Chromedome goes to pay a visit to a coworker to get things set for the madness that’s about to unfold.

My boy! My beautiful boy!

Yes, Ironfist, before shooting himself in the head and having his spirit broken by the horrors of direct combat, used to be a cop. Everyone’s a cop in IDW, at least for a little while. He’s also missing his faceplate, and isn’t nearly as cute in Milne’s style, but we can’t have it all all the time, now can we?

Chromedome’s feeding into Ironfist’s fanboy nature, pretending to be just as much as a nerd as he is to call in a favor. In exchange for getting Ironfist’s Delta Magnus body pillow back from their boss, Chromedome needs to borrow Ironfist’s one-to-one replica of the Matrix.

I mean, you practically are already, but the sentiment is appreciated. We haven’t gotten to the point where we’re comfortable with thank you kisses yet, and it’ll be a while still.

While the Senator and company gush over Chromedome’s good job, Roller pulls Ratchet and Orion over to the side for a little chat.

Roller doesn’t trust the Senator. He’s done his research, weighed their options, and he really isn’t sure about this guy. Turns out that Orion isn’t the only guy who’s been modified to fit a Matrix without his consent. Honestly, I’m with Roller on this one; that’s mad creepy to be loading the bases like that.

Orion doesn’t really see it that way, though.

Only one of these things was ever a secret, my guy. You worked with Whirl, he was in your precinct for crying out loud! At least he admits to his ignorance.

Back in the present, we check in on Rodimus’ investigation. Looks like we’ve got our answer on who tried to kill Red Alert.

It was Red Alert.

First Aid explains.

Fascinating.

Rodimus fails to see why exactly Red Alert would choose to go this route, because A) he doesn’t know that Red Alert knows about the dirty little secret in the basement, and B) despite probably having depression, may not be the type to have suicidal ideation. It’s true, those types of people exist!

Oh, this is a savior’s complex thing. Nyon really fucked you up, huh Rodimus?

After Ultra Magnus gets Rodimus to stop accosting the doctor, they’re faced with a sort of moral quandary.

IDW’s More Than Meets the Eye! Come for the space adventure, stay for the rumination on whether it’s ethical to allow a mentally ill person the right to self-termination!

After consulting with Drift, because it’s always important to get a second opinion, Rodimus agrees to put Red Alert in cold storage, to remain until their quest is finished and they’re in a place that’s better for his mental health.

Anyway, back to the heist plotline.

Orion breaks down the plan for everybody: the basilica is nearly impossible to break into, but they’re going to do it anyway, because this is the past, and we as the reader already know that things go alright because Chromedome, Ratchet and Skids are still here and Optimus Prime came into being.

Roller will hack the sky spies, make things look all hunky dory, while the rest of the boys magic carpet up to the top of the building.

Looking mighty relaxed there, Glitch.

Glitch is probably sitting down to conserve as much energy as possible, because his job sucks some major chrome- he’s got to keep the detector beams off, using his outlier ability, but it really friggin’ hurts for him to do it. He’s going to have to do it for an extended period of time.

Glitch really got the short end of the stick in all this, didn’t he?

Okay, so I was wrong, Skids uses his grappling hook a fucking shit-ton in MTMTE. Today, he’s going to use it to lower Orion down into the basilica so he can crack open a cold one and steal the Matrix.

Things can never just be simple, can they?

Over on Roller’s end of the workflow, Chromedome’s irritated that he’s got to babysit the Senator. Chromedome spends a good portion of this story arc irritated at stuff, in case you couldn’t tell.

In this case, the Senator agrees that having Chromedome stay back was probably unnecessary. Or at least, he did, until he noticed that the Academy of Advanced Technology is burning to the ground on live TV.

Then the wall explodes.

Things can never just be simple, can they?

Back on the front lines, Orion tags out and Ratchet tags in, because the locks on the Matrix are mad crazy hard to undo and they just don’t have time for pussyfooting around with all that. Ratchet is apparently a master lock pick. Must be those magic medic hands.

Even the Matrix being full of Fiji water is no match for our CMO, as he makes quick work of the bomb and removes it. Hooray! Now we just need to pull him back up and we’ll be all set to leave.

Or at least, we would be, if Glitch wasn’t the dumbest bitch alive.

Ratchet braces for an explosion.

And braces.

But it never comes, because Windcharger has magic arms and zero patience for facing his own mortality.

The boys haul up Ratchet and the bomb, fly on out of there, then Orion jumps off the slab they’re floating on because Roller was supposed to call and he hasn’t. I’m going to hazard a guess and say that Roller might be a bit preoccupied at the moment, and it isn’t by the television.

That is a BIG BOY.

“Cleanse and control” was what Trepan’s idiotic tattoo said, so there’s a good chance that our buddy the Senator is about to go the way of Pious Maximus in a minute. Or at least, he would if Orion Pax didn’t embrace is inner monster truck and punch a hole in the big boy holding the Senator like Lennie does a rabbit.

Kroma isn’t one to let the opposite side have all the cards though, as he holds a gun to Roller’s head and suggests that the Senator be given to him, lest we be down a cop in this story that’s simply awash with them. The Senator, being the nice guy that he is, goes willingly to his doom.

Be a lot easier if we knew your name, bud.

The Senator is taken away, but Kroma leaves Orion with the other big boy, and he’s not playing nicely. Orion helps himself by way of domestic terrorism.

But that’s not the end of the story! Oh dear no!

After the explosion, Orion unearths Chromedome, and they make tracks for the Institute. Small issue with that though:

Well, dang.

Thus ends the tale of the Matrix heist, the mysterious Senator, and Chromedome’s awkward relationship with Prowl. Our storytelling session ends with the sound of the alarm, and everyone runs off to see just what the hell’s gone wrong now. Only Skids hangs back to take Rung to the medibay, but not before trying one last thing to help his partner in vent-crawling out.

Man, all they had to do was annoy him and everything would have been fine? Rewind’s going to feel so silly for all that work he put into this.

Back in the past, Orion’s digging through the remains of the Rodion police station, when a robot comes up to him, saying that they have a mutual friend who asked him to find Orion if he ever went missing.

The mutual friend was the Senator.

And the robot is Zeta, who would become Zeta Prima.

The Senator was really playing the field with all these Matrix reformattings.

Speaking of the Senator, he’s just arrived at a The Institute, where they’ve decided to not only shadowplay him, but also empurata his whole deal just to be assholes. He just wanted to be beautiful, on top of conniving, but I guess we won’t be having any of that anymore. Not that it’ll matter.

Because vanity is illogical.

No wonder Whirl’s so goddamn angry all the time.

#transformers #jro #mtmte #shadowplay #issue 11 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

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wintersongstress · 6 years

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Writer’s Questionnaire

tagged by: @a-shakespearean-in-paris - Whew, girl, this tag was hard. I don’t think I’m smart enough to do it but I love talking about writing more than actually doing it so strap in...

EDIT [1/5/19]: @the-darklings Thank you for tagging me as well!

Short stories, novels, or poems?

POETRY?! #TRIGGERED

Ya’ll I want to talk about poetry. That Illuminati Cryptology.

On the one hand, I’m actually quite decent with writing poetry. I like the poems I’ve written. I’m proud of my sonnets, sestinas, villanelles, and free verse. Albeit, the restrictions of closed forms and writing in iambic pentameter grinds the gears in the computer science part of my brain, but I can do it. Some of my best lines are poetry. Poetry is what resonates the deepest, what loops through my head when I think about writing. Its the ultimate mastery of words that makes your work endure.

Look at Peonies at Dusk by Jane Kenyon. Nice poem, right? Lovely imagery, the tone is somber and sweet. But, you have to remember, poetry is a puzzle. You have to put the pieces together to understand the picture.

Kenyon arranged her poem in tercet stanzas to link it to the Holy Trinity. (???)This was because she found God during the time so wrote this poem and wanted to pay tribute to how it grounded her life by grounding her poem the same way. In the final stanza, the narrator bending to smell the peony is supposed to be the narrator bending over to take care of someone who is bedridden with cancer. Propping them up with stakes and twine- taking care of a sick loved one. Peonies were also known for their medicinal properties, as well as them withering being an omen for disaster and death. The fading of light and the dusk is all blatantly symbolic. JUST. POETRY PISSES ME OFF SOMETIMES. AND I HATE THAT I KIND OF LIKE HOW CONVOLUTED IT IS ONCE I FIGURE IT OUT.

tl:dr; I prefer short stories and novels when it comes to reading for the obvious reasons why we love novels. Ya’ll already know why novels are good. When it comes to writing I usually do short stories and poems. I haven’t been able to tackle a novel yet.

What genre do you prefer reading?

I’ve always enjoyed fantasy, historical fiction, and of course, romance. I like a good contemporary every once in a while, too.

What genre do you prefer writing?

Same as what I prefer to read. I absolutely love exploring settings and writing the relationships between characters and how they transform and develop them.

Are you a planner or a write-as-I-go kind of person?

I like to make an outline at the beginning of a new project just to have some semblance of order and to know what the journey is going to look like. This helps a lot in my Research stage because I’m able to identify what I don’t know and what tools I’m going to need.

What music do you listen to while writing?

Video game soundtracks mostly. They’re designed to keep you engaged and I don’t want to focus on anything else but my work, I just need a little white noise. Jeremy Soule’s compositions are great for setting the mood, as well as Debussy. I also like those nature ambiance videos on YouTube, crackling fire, forest/river sounds, etc.

Fave books/movies?

Amazing. This question never fails to make me forget every piece of media I have ever consumed. 😂

I’m kind of at a stand point right now because I’m 20 and I don’t read YA books anymore and that’s the bulk of my personal library. (Sorry Sarah J. Maas and Cassandra Clare!). I used to read a COLOSSAL amount of YA; I’m talking 15 books a month, 2 books a day sometimes and I used to do arc (advanced reader copy) reviews through Macmillan for Miss Literati. Looking back now though, there are some novels I read that I still stand by.

The Knife of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness - amazing, stream of consciousness writing at its best.

Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor - my favorite writing style. Period.

Half Bad by Salle Green - just brilliant.

The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway - fight me okay.

Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury

Passion by Lauren Kate - This book was just, everything I wanted. 😭

The Abhorsen Trilogy by Garth Nix - the first series that REALLY got me into reading.

List of my favorite films I like to tell people to impress them:

The Sixth Sense

The Last Samurai

Brokeback Mountain

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon

Rear Window

List of my favorite films when life is sad:

Confessions of a Shopaholic

The Mummy

Star Wars

Back to the Future

Some Like It Hot

The Princess Bride

Forrest Gump

Romancing the Stone

As you can see, I’m not a huge film buff (though sometimes I wish I were...)

I’m sure I’m forgetting some...

Any current WIPs?

gee let’s look at my documents folder...

This is gonna sound silly but the majority of my personal WIPs are actually games I want to write. I know, I know, but I want to go into narrative design, possibly even creative direction. Much to my mother’s chagrin. So I don’t write novels per say, I write scripts and game concept documents. I do write short stories but my longstanding projects I am not talented enough to start writing. I write ideas for scenes while I let the rest stew in my head, like a bubbling cauldron of ideas that is constantly simmering. I’ll get there, eventually.

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you, what would your standard outfit be?

My standard get-up is high-waisted jeans, Blundstones, and an over-sized knitted sweater. God I love winter.

Create a character description for yourself:

Hi,my name is Isabell. My worst nightmares include getting C’s, being late for work, and getting back together with my ex-boyfriend from 9th grade.

Do you like incorporating people you actually know into your writing?

The best writers are thieves, and I steal a lot of details of real people into my writing. Patterns of speech, outfits, unique traits, that sort of thing. I pay a lot of attention to the people around me, especially strangers. So I don’t incorporate actual people I know, rather, the strangers I see and who I think they are or could be in the context of story.

Are you kill-happy with characters?

By all means, I will put them in near death circumstances and give them critical injuries. However, I rarely kill them. So, no. I don’t happily kill my characters.

Coffee or tea while writing?

Self-proclaimed Chai tea slut.

Slow or fast writer?

Slow’er than the molasses in January.

Where/who/what do you find inspiration from?

Ideas strike anywhere, anytime. I could be standing in the check-out line at the grocery store and get an idea. However, most of my inspiration comes from consuming other stories. Video games have honestly been the most inspiring and immersive mediums for storytelling. I find inspiration from learning new things, especially in history. A lot of stuff from myth and history inspires me.

If you were put into a fantasy world, what would you be?

I’d like to think I would be an adventurer, but let’s be real I’d probably be an Alchemist’s apprentice. Or a sculptor. Maybe even a tutor.

Most fave book cliche? Least fave book cliche?

Hero/Villain Ships. Enemies to lovers. dYING CONFESSIONS OF LOVE.

Wait, are those cliches? As for what I hate...Oh, I don’t know. I hate the reckless heroine. I just hate reading about girls who make stupid decisions and think they’re the right ones. Not to say they can’t make mistakes, but you know, other characters are like, don’t do the thing, and they do it anyway.

Fave scenes to write?

SMUT. FIRST KISSES. Yeah. Been writing that sort of thing since I was 11. I had one of those notebooks with a cover that made a zippery sound when you scratched it and it was my first foray into fanfiction and smut lmao. Good stuff. Pandora’s box, though.

I love writing scenery descriptions. I’m acutely tuned to setting and creating atmosphere and I love determining the specific details that take you exactly where I want the reader to be. The mise-en-scene, if you will.

Most productive time of day for writing?

Dead of night or the wee hours of morning, when the world is quiet.

Reason for writing?

Because when I write, I feel like I belong. I write because I have a certain taste, and I’m the only one who knows how to capture that. I write because storytelling is intrinsic to me and a part of myself I can never deny, forget, or neglect. I write because my mind has always been full of ideas and worlds I want to explore. I write because deep down I know I’m meant to.

Tagging:

I’m gonna keep it chill because this tag takes more than 2 minutes to do, but I would love to see your guys’ responses!: @shadows-echoes || @sunstrain || @connorshero || @deviantsupporter

This tag is totally 100% optional!

#tag meme #tag game #personal #long post #this took 5ever #god this is so personal i hate hearing myself talk lmao

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no27-autonation-honda · 5 months

Text

okay im gonna work on the horror project notes for the next thirty minutes and then im gonna do housework and THEN im gonna read more on the jewish book........

#kazoo noises #this is a cry for help please hold me accountable and someone ask me for oNE thing i took notes on at the end of these thirty minutes #the horrors (zoomies)#gee's silly project tag #academia for fun and profit

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thisgirlsays22 · 6 years

Text

Intro to Data Science (Chapter 2)

Rating: E

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin

Pairing(s): Eren Yeager/ Levi

Chapter Word Count: 4.5K

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, (British) Professor Levi, (American) Student Eren, Long Distance

Summary:

“You’re probably just into him for the accent.”

“It’s not that,” Eren argued. “It doesn’t hurt, but it’s so much more than that.”

Mikasa rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

Notes:

For my lovely @fluffymusketeer who somehow manages to put me in a good mood even when the day looks bleak at first.

And a big thank you to @attraversiamo19 for being a fantastic beta and to @dreamxxdream for being a fantastic test reader.

Also check out this lovely fanart from @renriva (Mira, you are amazing Y_Y)

Read on Ao3 or under the cut. Edit: Chapter 1 on Tumblr

Monday morning, when Levi nodded at him as he walked through the door of the lecture hall, Eren felt all the tension go out of his shoulders. He hadn’t stopped beating himself up over his failed attempt to ask Levi out. Eren didn’t crush often, but when he did, it was intense and entirely too much.

He couldn’t concentrate during class because of the fucking cadence of Levi’s beautiful, deep voice as he explained the difference between supervised and unsupervised machine learning. He tried to copy down the notes from the slides on the screen at the front of the room, but kept drawing little doodles in the margins instead, wondering what was I thinking? That Levi would agree to go...platonically? That they’d strike up a friendship and eventually something more? God, he was embarrassed. He’d thought he’d picked up some sort of vibe between them, and maybe he had, but Levi was too noble to act on it.

“I can’t get him out of my head,” he complained to Mikasa that night. His desk was covered in junk food and dirty shirts, so he was curled up in his uncomfortable single-bed with his laptop, whining to his sister about his hopeless crush. He had dreamed his life in London would be glamorous, but here he was.

“You’re probably just into him for the accent.”

“It’s not that,” Eren argued. “It doesn’t hurt, but it’s so much more than that.”

Mikasa rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

He should have just called her instead of video chatting. It would be easier to ignore her derision that way. “God, he’s so fucking smart and kind of mean sometimes, but then he’ll turn around and give you helpful advice. I mean he’s only thirty-four and he’s had this amazing career already.”

“If you start talking to me about data, I’m ending this call,” Mikasa warned.

Eren ignored her. “The way he teaches is incredible. He makes such sarcastic comments about what we’re learning, but then if you ask a question, he really takes the time to understand it and give you a good answer. He once made a shit joke to explain a concept about correlation versus causation.” Eren paused to sigh dreamily. “Plus, he likes to read good books. And he shares all these funny posts about cats, like you wouldn’t expect it from him.”

“Wait...what? How do you know that?”

Realising he’d slipped up, Eren froze. “...I may have found his Facebook.”

Mikasa groaned and covered her face. “I’m so embarrassed for you, oh my god.”

“I had to find out if he was straight or not!”

She groaned again. “Eren, don’t do this. I can hear it in your voice. I know how reckless you can be, but come on.”

“It’s just a fun crush,” he defended. “A fun, silly crush.” He left out the part where he’d already tried to ask Levi out on a date.

“Yes. A fantasy.” Mikasa crossed her arms and gave him a pointed look.

“Shut up, Mikasa.”

“I was just agreeing with you!”

“Yeah, but in your I-know-better-than-you way.”

“You know I’m just looking out for you. You get your heart broken so easily.”

“I almost never like anyone!”

“Yeah, but when you do, your heart gets broken like that,” she said, snapping her fingers.

“Whatever, fine.” He rolled over on his side and stuffed a pillow under his head.

“Eren...what aren’t you telling me?”

“What?”

“You have that guilty look on your face. Like in the picture.” Mikasa took every available opportunity to reference The Picture. A photo taken when Eren was a toddler where he wore a guilty expression as he hid in their playhouse to have a private shit.

“I am not making the guilty poop-face!”

“You are!”

He flung the pillow over his face and spoke into it.

“Try again without the pillow.”

“You don’t have to worry about him breaking my heart because I already asked him out and he turned me down. Which he definitely should have. He’s being a responsible, respectable adult, which only makes me like him more.”

“Eren!”

“I know, I know.”

“Oh my god...What kind of date did you ask him on?” Mikasa leaned closer to the camera, looking exasperated but intrigued.

Eren pulled at one of the seams on his pillow. “Philip Pullman is giving a talk about his new book, and I asked him to go.”

Her face softened. “That’s actually cute. You’re still an impulsive moron, but a sweet one.”

“Gee, thanks,” he said and then tried to change the subject as quickly as possible. “So how’s mom?”

“You know her. Working hard as ever. She finally agreed to let me start covering the groceries since I’m running more sessions at the gym.”

“Wait. Mom agreed to let you help contribute?”

“Yes.”

“As in our mother? Carla Jaeger?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re sure this wasn’t an Invasion of the Body Snatchers situation?”

“Haven’t checked yet, but I’ll get back to you.”

“Shit. That’s amazing, Mikasa. Good job.”

She took a little bow, hair falling in front of the camera. “Yes, thank you. Now I just have to convince Zeke to stop leeching off of mom.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.”

“He was only supposed to be here for a month, and it’s been three.”

“Well, Mikasa, it’s really hard to find another pyramid scheme to latch onto. These opportunities don’t just fall from the sky.”

“I swear to god if he ever tries to sell me another vitamin again, I’m disowning him. I’m trying to convince him to just get a job with Connie at the bar until he figures things out.”

“Well, if anyone can, it’s you.”

“If he talks to you, can you mention it too? Couldn’t hurt.”

“Sure,” Eren said, not really meaning it. They hadn’t talked much since Eren had left for school nearly a year ago. Zeke had sent him a few obnoxious texts recently that consisted of, Pip pip cheerio, bro. Or Have you read my blog post on Paleo yet? All of which Eren had ignored.

“Okay, I have to run, I’m leading a yoga session in an hour, but I love you, and for what it’s worth, I think you should still go to the event.” Mikasa blew him a kiss and waved.

“Love you too, and I’ll think about it.”

They disconnected the call, and Eren got that same lonely feeling he always got after calling home to his family or friends. On top of that was the embarrassment about his crush. He had to accept he’d let himself get carried away and was projecting his feelings of loneliness onto this fantasy of Levi.

Eren took Mikasa’s advice and went to the Southbank Centre on Friday even though he hadn’t found anyone who wanted to go with him. His roommates hadn’t been interested: Ymir had called him a nerd, and Annie had just said, “No. Sounds boring.” At least Reiner and Bert had politely cited other plans as their reason for not going.

Whatever, they were all kind of assholes anyway. They only hung out with him because they all lived together, and rarely at that. So Eren had attempted to tame his wild hair, put on his nicest pair of black jeans and a button-down, and gone on his own.

Loneliness clouded his excitement for the night as he waited in line to get his signed copy of The Book of Dust from the little booth at the front of the centre. Everyone around him seemed to be here with someone, chatting happily, flipping through the new book together.

Eren got his copy and didn’t know what to do with himself. Distracted as he wandered around, admiring the large, glossy atrium, he did a double-take when someone caught his eye. Standing by the bar was a man Levi’s height with the same undercut.

The man turned so Eren could see him in profile. Holy fucking shit, Eren thought, maneuvering through the crowd as fast as he could, making strategic use of his broad shoulders to get people out of his way.

“Levi?”

Levi leaned against the front of the bar, looking unsurprised. “Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” He’d spent the whole week trying not to think about Levi, trying to laugh off the rejection and the hopelessness of his crush, but Levi was standing in front of him. He’d actually come.

“I wanted to see the lecture.”

“Oh. Do...do you want to sit together?” Eren asked.

“Not really.”

Eren was knocked further off-balance, unsure if Levi was joking or not. He tried to remain collected as he said, “I thought you were supposed to be polite.”

“I’m polite,” Levi protested flatly.

“No, you’re confusing.”

A funny look crossed Levi’s face, which Eren couldn’t decipher.

The bartender came back with Levi’s drink, a plastic cup full of wine, but before Levi paid, he said, “He’ll have a...what do you drink, Eren?”

Too flustered to think of the names to any drinks, Eren said, “What you’re having looks good.” If Levi was buying him a drink, maybe he had been joking.

“Another red wine, please,” Levi said.

Eren didn’t know what to talk about next. Levi looked so handsome in his dark blazer and jeans, and Eren’s heart wouldn’t stop doing nervous somersaults.

If he’d known Levi was going to be here, he could have mentally prepared some dazzling stories, some intriguing ice-breakers, intelligent questions, but here he was standing in front of Levi awkwardly without a clue what to say.

Fun crush, he reminded himself. Silly, fun crush. Just a fantasy.

“You don’t want to sit with me, but you’re buying me a drink?” Eren asked, trying to keep his tone neutral, breezy.

“You’re a broke student. Like I said, I’m being polite.” Levi paid for the drinks and Eren followed him to one of the empty tables around the corner. For such a bustling place, there were a surprising number of cozy places to sit.

Eren looked around for anyone he recognised from class and was relieved when no one materialised. He wondered if Levi was doing the same. Fuck it, anyway. There wasn’t any rule that they couldn’t socialise if they ran into each other in public.

“Have you been here before?” Levi asked once they were seated, facing one another at a low table by the window. Finally out of winter’s grasp, the sun was still hanging low in the sky, casting the Thames in an orange hue.

“I came to an art exhibit here once,” Eren said, “but never to an event like this. It’s weird they serve you the drinks in plastic cups. I thought it would be classier.” The plastic cup made Eren feel like he was back in the college dorms again. Not bad, just out of place here.

Levi crossed his ankle over his leg, and Eren tracked the graceful movement with his eyes. “You can bring them into the theatre,” Levi said.

“True. Do you come here often, then?” As the words left his lips, Eren cringed.

“Did you really just ask me if I come here often?” Levi asked, bemused.

“That did sound really cheesy,” Eren admitted. “But it’s a genuine question.”

“I don’t come here often,” Levi said. “But I’d like to. Most of my friends have moved out of the city, though.”

I’d go with you. In his mind’s-eye, it played out like fast-forwarding a movie. Levi would wear the same black blazer that brought out the grey in his eyes; afterwards they’d have dinner overlooking the Thames, discussing whatever show they’d seen, and then Levi would take him home and--Eren shook himself out of his spiraling thoughts.

Their knees brushed under the table, and Levi didn’t pull away.

“I’m glad you came tonight,” Eren said, voice low.

Levi frowned and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Eren...Just because I’m here doesn’t mean--”

“I know. I’m still glad, though.”

When Eren met Levi’s eyes, he felt it: a current of electricity running between them. He wasn’t always the best at reading other people, but he was good at identifying that spark of interest, the heat that a single look could carry. The way Levi’s heavy-lidded eyes considered him made Eren’s breath hitch. Did Levi want to be convinced? If he did, Eren feared he would only fuck it up.

Levi cleared his throat and stood. “I need the loo. And we should head in soon.”

“Wait,” Eren said, turning around in his chair. “So we are sitting together then?”

“I never said that.”

“I can’t tell if we’re joking anymore,” Eren said.

“Fine.” Levi waved a hand. “I suppose you can sit with me. But you better bloody well not talk during it. I can’t stand that rude shit.”

Eren nodded, amused by the severity and specificity of the request. “You have yourself a deal.”

He watched Levi walk away, and then leaned back in his chair, smiling to himself.

They chose seats at the front of the rear stalls, so there was no one sat in front of them and they had a wooden ledge to rest their arms and drinks upon. Every time their shoulders touched as Eren sat back in his chair, he lost track of what was being said on stage.

When the interview ended, Eren didn’t want to move. He wanted to stay still and feel Levi’s arm pressed against his, to smell the smoky scent of his cologne that made Eren light-headed with desire. Even though the urge to rest his head on Levi’s shoulder or to thread their fingers together was almost too much to bear, he would have chosen to relive that hour over and over if he could.

Afterwards, Eren waited for Levi to excuse himself, to call it a night, but he seemed content to keep walking side by side as they left the building together. Eren thought, if I just keep thinking of interesting things to say, he won’t go.

“You up for a walk along the river?” Eren tried.

Levi considered this for a moment. So sure the answer would be no, Eren almost didn’t register the nod. “Yeah, alright. Not too cold for it.”

They strolled along the walkway above the water, the night air crisp and cool enough that Eren had put his sweatshirt on. The London Eye’s blue glow reflected on the water below, rotating so slowly above the city that it appeared still. Lights from restaurants, shops and flats on both sides of the river lit up the night, and Eren let himself imagine that there was nothing preventing this from being a real date, that they were just two people without a care in the world.

“I don’t know how I felt about the excerpt he read,” Eren said.

“Me neither.”

“I’m worried it’s going to be really boring,” Eren confessed. “The first ones were perfect. I don’t want anything to ruin that.”

For a moment, they were split apart, maneuvering around a group of tourists clustered together, watching a man waving a giant bubble wand. They exchanged an eye roll.

“I thought you said you hated the last book,” Levi said once they had reached a quieter part of the pathway.

“No, I said it destroyed me. I hated it, and I loved it.”

“What, because Lyra and Will don’t end up together?”

“Obviously. They were soul mates and they were trapped in separate universes.” Eren threw his arms open wide for dramatic effect.

Levi stopped walking and crossed his arms, face caught in the blue glow from the ferris wheel. “Soul mates? They were twelve.”

“What’s age got to do with it?”

“You’re right, nothing. It’s the concept of soul mates that’s bullshit.”

The opinion didn’t come as a surprise. In fact, Eren had been hoping for it; he enjoyed the sarcastic, scathing replies. He didn’t even know if the concept was something he believed in either, at least not for himself.

“Are you going to tell me statistically it’s improbable?” Eren gave him a sly smile.

“Yeah. I’m going to draw a fucking graph for you.”

“Come on. Tell me the ending didn’t make you cry,” Eren teased.

Before Levi could reply, Eren came to a sudden halt. “Shit! I left my book inside!”

“It’s alright. I’m sure it’s either still at your seat or they’ve brought it to the front.”

Relieved that Levi didn’t seem annoyed by his stupidity, Eren said, “I just hope no one took it.”

“You can have mine if they did.”

Levi said this so casually, as though he were offering a piece of gum, that it took a moment for it to register. “What? No, I couldn’t take yours.”

“I’m only here because you found the event. I can just buy another copy inside.”

“Well, let me go check for it.” He expected Levi to finally excuse himself, but he followed Eren back to the venue.

“I need a shit,” he said in answer to Eren’s questioning look as they walked through the entrance.

Eren was startled by the vulgarity of a line delivered in that lovely, clipped accent; he blinked at Levi before letting out a shocked laugh.

“Go get your book,” Levi said, heading to the bathroom.

One of the ushers who was helping close up the theatre let Eren back in, and his book was still underneath the chair where he’d left it. He felt immense relief that he hadn’t lost his momento of the night, something he’d carefully chosen while otherwise refusing to fill his transient life with clutter.

Even though Levi had given no indication he would be departing after said shit, Eren was still surprised to find him waiting, leaning against the wall outside of the theatre.

“I’m peckish,” Levi said, and Eren felt almost giddy with hope.

“Wahaca maybe?”

“Sure,” Levi said. “Something fast.”

He let Eren buy him two fish tacos and a margarita from the Wahaca food-truck outside. “You bought me the drink earlier,” Eren had insisted. They sat at one of the picnic tables out front, the smell of grilled meat filling the air. Levi ate his taco with a knife and fork, and Eren made fun of him.

“Funny, you’re taking the piss when you’ve got sauce on your face,” Levi said, flicking his judgemental gaze to Eren as he cut off another piece of taco.

Eren touched his chin. “Here?”

“No.”

He touched his forehead. “Here?”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Spot on.”

Reaching for a napkin from the centre of the table, Eren said, “Thanks for going back with me. That was really nice of you.” He wiped the corners of his mouth then messily tucked back into his chicken burrito.

“It’s fine.” Levi didn’t look up from his food.

“You’re not great at accepting praise, are you?”

Levi’s fork was halfway to his mouth, and he paused to glare at Eren.

“Like when I tried to compliment your teaching or your career.”

“Maybe you’re bad at giving compliments. Thought about that?”

“You’re funny too,” Eren said, like it was a challenge.

Levi pointed at Eren with his fork. “That’s a better compliment.”

Eren finished up his food and stood. “I’m gonna get another margarita, you want one?”

“Go on then. But here,” Levi pulled his wallet out and handed over a twenty pound note.

“Thanks. I’ll keep the change.”

“Yeah. You can buy a new sweatshirt.”

“Hey! What’s wrong with my sweatshirt?” Eren looked down, dumbfounded, at his green hoodie. He’d gotten it from Abercrombie a couple years ago, but it was still in decent enough shape.

“What’s right with it?” Levi said.

“You know what? You keep the change. Buy a new attitude,” Eren said.

Levi burst out laughing, covering his eyes with his hand as if he were surprised it was happening.

Flirting with Levi got Eren’s heart racing in ways he hadn’t experienced since his first middle-school crushes. He’d had feelings for people since then, meaningful relationships, but they’d lacked the novelty and the thrill that he felt with Levi. A dangerous, unlikely possibility unfolding between them.

The whole night had a surreal, magical edge to it. Removing Levi from the context of university had deepend Eren’s crush. It wasn’t Levi as a professor he liked...it was Levi the person. Though he seemed tenser than he did while in front of the classroom, he retained the sharp sense of humor that had caught Eren’s attention from the very first lesson.

Walking back to the food truck, chuckling to himself as he jingled the change around in his hand, that’s when Eren understood. He liked that Levi was a challenge, that he didn’t readily accept compliments. He even liked that Levi insulted his sweatshirt. Underneath his barbs and impassive exterior was a sweetness, a gentleness, and that was the best part of all. Each time he’d talked to Levi he managed to chip away at Levi’s icy exterior just a bit more. Maybe soon he would uncover the sculpture underneath, a masterpiece.

All the things he’d told Mikasa had been true, except that this was a fun, silly crush. Eren could feel he was rapidly approaching the danger line where the fun and silly portion of the evening would end and he would only get hurt.

While he waited in line, he glanced back at Levi at the table a few times, half-expecting him to be gone, but Levi was still sitting there with his copy of The Book of Dust out, idly flipping through.

When he returned, Levi suggested they resume their walk.

“With our drinks?” Eren asked, equally surprised by Levi’s suggestion and the idea of walking around in public with alcohol in plain sight.

“It’s fine,” Levi said, amused.

“Sweet! I always just want to be sure. It’s illegal back home.”

“Your laws make no fucking sense.” Levi shook his head.

They cleared off the table and continued in the direction of the Eye, past the small market selling records and books and two stray street performers dressed as Yoda and a gold statue.

Eren halted. “Shit! I left my book back at the table.” He’d been so focussed on the moment that he lost track of the damn book again.

“Do we need to put that thing on a leash?”

“Yes!” Eren called over his shoulder and as he ran back to their table to retrieve his wayward text once again. Please don’t let him think I’m always like this, Eren thought.

“You sure you really want it?” Levi asked once Eren had returned. He was looking down at the river now, leaning forward on the stone wall along the edge of the walkway. Eren went to stand by his side.

“I do! I really should have gotten two actually. One for my mom,” Eren said regretfully as they resumed their walk once again. “I might just give her mine since I keep leaving it everywhere anyway.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to find another one. They usually sell signed copies like those at Forbidden Planet.”

“What’s that?” Eren asked.

“They sell comics, merchandise, those sorts of things. They’ve got a decent collection of fantasy and sci-fi books. Bit nerdy, but fun. A friend of mine always makes me stop in there with them.” Levi smiled fondly.

“What do you usually buy?”

“Can’t say I’m too exciting. I tend to like the broadly popular work. Studio Ghibli films and the like. Walking Dead’s alright, I still keep up with the comics.”

Eren hid a smile. “I like some of that stuff. Like anything zombie sign me up, except I’ve given up on the Walking Dead.”

“Fair. I really should.”

“I’m actually kind of surprised you’re into all that.”

“Why?”

Because you seem so aloof and cool and anything that makes you seem more down-to-earth just makes me like you more. “I don’t know, I guess you come off as someone who wouldn’t have a lot of interest in that kind of stuff. Like you’re too cool for it.”

“You don’t know me very well at all,” Levi said. Was there--Eren’s heart stuttered--was there something flirty in the way Levi said that? It was something in the way he held Eren’s eye, the sly way the corner of his lip tugged up.

He was probably just imagining it. Eren rested his arms on the railing above the wall, trying to choose his next words carefully as he stared down at the patch of rocky-beach that was visible now, not yet swallowed up by the tide.

“I wouldn’t mind knowing you,” Eren said quietly, as though he were tossing the words to the river like a skipping stone.

Neither looked at the other. Eren’s grip on the rail tightened. Mikasa’s warning ran through his head again as he waited for Levi to speak. To say something, anything.

“Even if I wanted that too, you’re my student. It’s a bad idea.”

Eren’s heart went into overdrive, pounding against his rib cage like it was trying to escape. Their fingers were inches apart, resting on the guardrail and Eren let the wine and margaritas give him courage as he moved his hand towards Levi’s and placed it on top of his. The hard line of Levi’s profile was impassive, but he didn’t pull away.

Self-conscious, nervous thoughts slithered into Eren’s mind: why would Levi want him? He was just a dumb kid with nothing to offer.

But Eren was also reckless. He let moments overwhelm his better sense of judgement, his rationale, and would always choose to leap. Below, a river cruise ship trailed past, and a few people on the deck waved up at them. Eren tentatively lifted his hand to wave back, but instead of putting it back down on the rail, he took hold of Levi’s arm. Face still angled away from Eren, Levi’s jaw was tight.

Eren could feel the hard muscles of Levi’s bicep through the blazer, and he squeezed. Partially so Levi would look over at him and partially because he had no restraint.

Without a word, Levi gripped Eren’s waist, sending shivers through him at the touch as they locked eyes. Eren hesitantly bent forward to kiss him, expecting to be stopped, but was shocked when Levi’s hand twisted the front of his hoodie to pull Eren the rest of the way across.

They both tasted like tequila, but Eren wouldn’t have changed a thing. Running his fingers along the soft hairs of Levi’s undercut and woozy again from the smell of his cologne, Eren could have kissed him like this all night. Levi’s lips were soft and a little chapped, and he kissed Eren with such tenderness, hand pressed against the small of his back, that Eren thought he must be dreaming.

But Levi pulled away, taking a step back. The breeze blew his bangs in front of his face, obscuring his eyes. “I should go,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Eren was still reeling from the kiss, words not registering until Levi stepped back.

“Oh, okay,” Eren said, but Levi was already hurrying away. “Goodnight, then.”

#ereri #levieren #levi x eren #ereri fanfic #snk #aot #my writing #fic: intro to data science #levi you're already getting in too deep dude

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ikesenmotonari · 7 years

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yay that ikesen oc thing. she’s a multifandom oc but hey im not creative so i might as well JAM her into another universe lets go lads

idk who to tag but if u have an ikesen oc go for it i wanna know bout em!!!

i was tagged by @nyktoon-ikemenlove thank you sweetheart!!!

Age? Height?

“Hi! I’m Melody Wyverne, but my friends if I had any would call me Mel, Mells… that fun stuff! I’m nineteen and I’m five foot two!”

She’s petite, on the curvy side. She’s 5′2″, or 155 cm; she is only nineteen and wants to go home. lmao

What’s your fashion like? [Time travelers – pre & post-wormhole!]

“Er, pre time-jump I was a fan of sleeveless hoodies and high-waisted jeans. I didn’t go out much, so I dressed comfortably. Now I wear kimono and hakama… it’s pretty. I sure hope it didn’t trouble people too much to make these…!“

The top one is an older doodle. thonk emojis

Where are you from?

“I’m from Canada, actually. I lived alone for a bit then my dad reached out to me and asked me if I’d like to spend some time with him in Japan. So uh, I just wanted to talk to him again and thought this would be a good way for me to intern somewhere… it might as well be his business right? Then the storm thing.“

Her mom is French, her dad is English. She’s got a ridiculously high IQ level and no social skills whatsoever, so she knows most Japanese and speaks it pretty okay despite her North American kind of accent. Is that a thing? thonks

Feudal era – pros and/ or cons?

“There are pros?!“ She’s not very happy being surrounded by blood and death…

Pros? Cool clothes. Cons? HAVE YOU MET THESE PEOPLE?!

If you’re not in your homeland/time, do you want to go home?

“Gosh. Absolutely.“

What’s your home life like?

“Well, I’ll run you through a usual day! Ah… well, I’d eat something, then play with my cat, talk to Avery for a bit, then… yeah I’d spend the rest of it at the garage, just working on my projects! It’s… I like working. It’s not healthy, and I’ve been told… but it’s nice, you know?“

Melody doesn’t go outside.

She scarcely leaves her property and the only close friends she has is a cat and a cyborg (a man with no arms). Her parents split years ago and she wasn’t properly socialized as a kid. Being raised as a certified genius? It’s… lonely. She doesn’t know how it’s affected her, but being thrown back in time is forcing her to look at things differently.

You just got your dream job! What is it? / Or, what’s your line of work?

“I’m a programmer on the side, but first and foremost, I make prosthesis for people. I have a background in medicine and engineering I suppose…”

Any other hobbies or skills? Do you use them / how do you use them in the Sengoku period?

“Not really… I can barely take care of myself as is, haha! Erm. I can’t use my skills much at all in this era. Other than some simple automatons, there’s also guns I can piece apart, but I’m more hesitant with those… all I can do is use my expertise in biology I guess. There’s a lot of injuries going around, and I’m glad I’m not completely useless.“

Where is your base of operations? Azuchi Castle? Kasugayama Castle? A pirate ship? Running all over the woods or in a secret monastery? Some other cool place?

“I woke up in a forest near Azuchi and stayed in a neutral tea house for a while before Lord Masamune pretty much dragged me to the castle. So I stayed there for a few months, and the warlords grew on me, but… I… got kidnapped. So I guess my base of operations is a pirate ship.”

Oh?

“…I don’t like it. Don’t get me started on their captain…”

How do you feel about killing and violence?

“I just wish there’s another way past it all. I don’t think I’ll ever understand the logic behind killing someone. I… I’m a doctor. Not a murderer.”

Have you learned to fight? If so, what’s your weapon and/or fighting style of choice?

“Nope, actually. But there’s some good guys on board that might be willing to teach me! At least, I hope so. The only thing I’m leaning towards are guns, unfortunately, but they’re the closest thing to a modern mechanism I can get. Eep… I don’t know how to fight! I don’t want to!”

What are you fighting for?

“Um, my life?!“ It changes. Eventually. ;3

What are your feelings about authority?

“As long as they’re not bullies? Fine.” She pauses. “Lord Nobunaga was different though. I didn’t understand him fully, but he doesn’t really make fun of me or anything. He’s just curious I guess. I don’t tend to question authority unlike some pirates.”

How do you handle someone invading your personal space?

“I just get really uncomfortable and back away if I can. I can’t bring myself to yell at people unless they’ve seriously whittled down on my patience. I didn’t know I had it in me, actually… huh.“

…do you invade people’s personal space?

“Ha…. haha! Yeah, sometimes. I get nosy okay? I didn’t even know what personal space was until I was eleven!”

Are you more open, or more reserved? Are you secretive?

“Avery says I’m an open book. I have nothing to hide, no secrets to keep. There’s not much that happened to me before, so I guess I’m some kind of blank slate? Gee, that sounds so harsh…”

Is this the first time you’ve been truly in love?

“Love? Have you spoken to these people?”

Eventually? Yeah. Yeah this is her first time.

What’s your style as a lover? (interpret this as innocently or not-innocently as you please ;) )

She’s sweet, affectionate and balanced. She knows when to handle time with her partner and time working on whatever independent activities. Though she’s quite a dense person overall and won’t realize if she’s even fallen for someone, she deeply and wholeheartedly trusts them. It takes a while for her to know this.

Also, she’s 99% submissive and slightly masochistic. As well as a rope bunny.

What are your favorite ways for someone to show you love?

Touches, fleeting ones. Tight hugs, any kind of embrace. Show her something unconditional, undivided. She’s been isolated for so long she convinced herself she won’t have someone to love, so she carries on merrily alone, not knowing how deprived she is of human contact. Hmm.

Take her on an adventure. Bring her out of her comfort zone. Show her what the world could be like… you’ll change her.

Do you use a petname or endearments for your lover(s)?

Not really, she would give nicknames if she could! She already says things like ‘honey’ and ‘dear’, but nothing too mushy unless it becomes super playful and joking.

How do you feel about…

Nobunaga? “He’s such a complicated warlord… I don’t know if I’ll ever understand him. But he’s shown some really keen interest in me. Is it because I’m a Westerner? Either way, Lord Nobunaga scared me and he still does. But after spending months in the castle and talking to him, he’s not actually as mean as I thought he was. I don’t know why he laughs at me though! I guess the things I do seem really silly to him!”

Hideyoshi? “Oh he’s super nice. He taught me how to make tea when mister Mitsunari and I put way too much leaves in. He tends to scold me for staying up though, but I can’t help my insomnia without my pills! It’s really comforting to know that Lord Hideyoshi is looking out for me though. The things he does reminds me of how Avery takes care of me, so I guess he’s like a big brother? Heehee.”

Masamune? “He was the one who brought me to Azuchi castle, and boy is he wild! His energy shocked me honestly, it’s like he never runs out of it. He’s so cool though! He kinda scared me too, and I’m pretty sure he can stab me once told to, but he’s been really playful. I didn’t know I’d have so much fun in Azuchi thanks to him. And he makes amazing food! Though he should stop bugging me to eat three meals a day…”

Ieyasu? “Aw man, I wish I can talk to him without him speedwalking away or trying to avoid me! He’s reading stuff about medicine, right? I’d like to know what he’s learning. It’s no doubt super different from modern medicine. I try to talk to him sometimes but Lord Ieyasu’s always busy… was it something I said?”

You know that question about invading personal space? Melody leans in to peer over at his books sometimes. She’s a bit too friendly to his liking.

Mitsunari? “I relate to him a lot. He’s really friendly and sometimes I’d spend my free time reading with him. Time goes by so fast though and either Lord Hideyoshi or Lord Ieyasu would step in to tell us we’ve missed dinner…”

Literally. They are so alike. They got along swell.

Mitsuhide? “S-Scary… have you heard of those rumors about him? I mean, in person he’s okay, but he’s just tall and intimidating to me. He did take me out to the marketplace once and show me around, which… well, nevermind. I guess he’s nice. Apparently Lord Hideyoshi told him to stop teasing me, but I don’t recall being teased?”

She’s dense.

Shingen? “Big man. Very tall, and… I think he was flirting with me. Whatever it was, he’s… really.. erm, polite and all, and I met him along with Yukimura and Sasuke at the forest tea house before I was taken to Azuchi. I don’t know him too well, but with what Lord Nobunaga told me, he must be a strong warlord…”

Kenshin? “I never met the guy. With a title like the ‘God of War’, I don’t think I want to…!” Fear.

Yukimura? “He’s… he’s kind of… what’s the word, gruff, isn’t he? I met him along with Shingen and I guess it’s a good quality to be honest and stuff. I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

She spilled tea on him. You can imagine the rest. Sasuke came in clutch.

Sasuke? “He’s super great. I wish I had more time to talk to him! He kinda saw right through my attempt to hide the fact that I’m from the future and he gave me helpful advice on fitting in and staying under the radar. Eep, sorry I got dragged to the castle, Sasuke! We can talk about astrophysics another time…! Seriously, I’m so grateful to him. Without his advice I’d probably be in big trouble.”

Kennyo? “He went near the tea house once and was feeding the fish in the koi pond. He’s scary, but… he’s nice. I served him tea and some dumplings. I had no idea he hated Lord Nobunaga so much…”

Motonari? “Ugh… infuriating. I didn’t know I could be so angry at someone before I met this guy. The nerve he has, to kidnap me in broad daylight, spit on Azuchi defenses, and then use me as his impromptu surgeon for the high seas! Hmph. … I… I don’t know. The more time I spend with him, I feel like I’m not going anywhere - you know, I try to get along, I really do, but I think he’s keeping me away? Like, he just tends to stay shallow with people. As annoying as he can get… I want to know why. He’s shown how playful he could be, and his crew loves him. He gives me the same vibes as Lord Nobunaga, actually… intimidating, but I want to know more about him.”

Any other friends/notables?

“I have a friend named Avery and he’s awesome! He took care of me ever since I was eleven, he was twenty-one at the time and now he’s thirty. He’s like a dad to me. Oh, and this isn’t too important, but he has metal arms. I made those! Er, the updated ones, actually. Just to make sure they’re functioning like real arms and all. The prototypes were made by my mom and he was severely injured, so the surgery took a while. He and I grew really close after my parents’ divorce. He lives a few blocks down, and he has eight dogs. Don’t ask ME why, you should ask HIM. … I miss him. I hope he’s okay.”

She also has a cat named Charlie. He’s a grey ragdoll. That’s… that’s about it.

hooray for my shallow motonari headcanons with trust issues

#oof #ikesen oc #my art

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shintorikhazumi · 7 years

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Twelve Days of Christmas Project: Day 1

“So I may have used poison instead of sugar.” for Akko and Sucy?

-Request by Liz! @lizanime3 I hope you like it even just a little bit ;-; Pleaseeee…

A/N: Hola Minna-san! Yes, I’m alive... and yet not. Ok, so I was supposed to start this on the 13th so I could have 12 days until the 25th… but… I’ve actually been really sick for nearly two weeks and I don’t think I’ll be getting better anytime soon. :(

But well, since I finally have enough strength to actually walk around (FINALLY, I’ve been kinda bedridden- and my head isn’t being a little jerk for once), I can work on this, YAY! I’m COMPLETELY out of practice. I‘m sorry if it will su-… be a bit bad. Maybe a bit OOC?

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

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

Gingerbread.

Akko loved gingerbread.

She loved it so much, the desert being a close second only to her precious umeboshi, and that was certainly something considering how much she adored the sour treats.

She loved the refreshing, minty (?) scent of the ginger, she loved how multiple shapes and structures could be constructed by such deliciously edible cookies… bread… cookie-bread. (Akko scratched her head, still trying to unlock the secrets to that one.)

Akko could easily and quite vividly reminisce on her memories, triggered by the gingerbread: A cozy fire back in japan, a log cabin that was a Christmas vacation house for her family, sitting on her papa’s lap as her mother sang her carols and gave her hot chocolate with marshmallows floating in her cup, nearly spilling out- Yes she loved that too, by the way.

Usually, she would relive these memories each Christmas with her family, a small corner of her childhood always tucked away in her heart and opened up during the Merry holidays; quite like a Christmas tree and its décor being stored away and set up each year. It was one tradition she would never replace with anything, and it was just that special considering Akko wasn’t known for being a traditional maiden at all.

… but well…

Who’s to say tradition can’t be broken? (Obviously not Akko, being the number one tradition breaker, citing incidents is of no need.)

And here sat Akko, well, lay Akko, on her bedroom floor, beside their desks that had cookies situated on top amongst all the messy clumps of paper and books; brown and red all over her body in an abstract mix of colors, which was putting it nicely. Putting it bluntly-

“You look like someone dumped buckets of brown and red paint all over you after tripping.” Sucy snidely remarked, stifling a laugh as she simply watched her girlfriend writhe in who-knows-what kind of pain.

The pair were alone in their room as Lotte had gone out to bond with Barbara over the special Christmas edition release of Nightfall, Hannah tagging along. The rest of the gang were doing whatever and the couple decided to spend some… “quality time” together and let their affections grow.

“Gee, thanks.” Akko barked through gritted teeth, not exactly feeling those said affections at the moment. “And whose fault do you think it is that I’m like this?!” She growled, her pearly whites digging into the skin of her lip, drawing a bit of blood.

“Yours?” Sucy replied with extreme nonchalance.

“YOURS!” Akko groaned feeling another bubble in her stomach pop. “What the hell is this?!”

“I honestly don’t know.” Sucy shrugged, kneeling down beside her fallen roommate and wiping the sweat off her brow. “If I knew which potion I knocked in by accident, you wouldn’t be in that kind of pain as I would have already known how to cure you.”

“Ugh!” Akko could feel the tears coming, and despite being quite confident in her bravery and astounding pain tolerance, it wasn’t really something she could be proud of as it didn’t help to quell the pain in her abdomen.

“So I may have used poison instead of sugar.” Sucy said not guilty at all, having baked the favorite treats of her lover as a christmas gift ( Lotte’s Suggestion) . Though she wasn’t sure if Akko’s feelings towards the pastry would remain the same after this traumatic experience.

“YOU WHAT?!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll help you now.” Sucy grinned, assisting Akko in sitting up against the bed as she was instructed to breathe in and out slowly.

“You mean you weren’t?!”

“I am now.” Sucy chuckled and Akko would have hit her if it were possible. “Now, to know what substance is in you right now, I need to ask a few questions.” Sucy explained, opening her potion and poison manual.

“Oh, please do.”

“Would you rather I not?”

“PLEASE.”

“You sounded pretty sarcastic-“

“Sucy.” Akko got out without shouting, a hand that was previously on her stomach, uselessly trying to assuage the pain, gripped Sucy’s pale one and it was then that the girl realized Akko was as pale as her and not at all alright.

“So even someone like you can’t take this kind of poison, huh?” Sucy’s tone had worry laced in it now, squeezing Akko’s hand back. “I’m sorry.” Her eyes turned downcast now, heart suddenly revving its engine and beating strongly as she realized just how much Akko was in danger. “I’m sor-“

“You can apologize after I’m better, jerk.” A playful Akko grinned through her hurting. “That’s not exactly important and I should be used to your horrible methods of tortu- teasing.” She grinned, shakily bringing their linked hands to her cold lips, kissing the back of Sucy’s hand. “I’ll seriously hold you to it.”

With a nod, the mushroom enthusiast went on with her inquiry. “How do you feel? What are your symptoms?” This was more than just one of her experiments on Akko to learn about potions. She usually checked any before giving them to the brunette anyway after deeming them “safe enough” for Akko’s personal intake.

“I feel like there are a ton of giant metal… bubbles, growing and popping against my stomach walls, and I kinda wanna let it out, but I can’t?” Akko tried to draw out her feelings in words as much as she could.

“Maybe you’re just constipated?” Sucy suddenly found herself able to joke again after Akko’s reassurance.

“HA.HA. Real funny.”

“Thanks, I hear mushrooms help people have dry humor.” Sucy replied, not batting an eyelash, hand now pressing down on Akko’s belly while looking through her archives.

“Because they become more delusional and wack?” Akko threw back, preferring this type of distraction from the pain, even if it meant bantering with her girlfriend.

“Say that again and you won’t be having any cuddles or affection.” Sucy threatened half-heartedly.

“Like you give them easily at all!” Akko retorted, now full-on smiling.

“Anything else?” Sucy gave in for once, and Akko was pleasantly shocked.

“Is this because I’m in bad condition?” Akko asked curiously.

“What?” Sucy looked at her incredulously, the sudden question catching her off guard and puzzling her at the suddenness of it all.

“You let me win our little thing just now?”

“Little thing?” Sucy parroted, eyes not leaving her list as she dutifully searched still.

“Our… usual… arguments..?” It felt weird calling it that as Akko felt it was anything but that. “Banter?”

“Ah.” Sucy said in realization. Quieting for a moment and that left Akko to wonder if she had done it subconsciously. “Don’t expect it to happen too often.” She whispered. Akko quirked a brow, a smirk playing across her once-in-pain features.

“Ohohoho… maybe I should be in pain more often then?”

“Scratch that,” Sucy cut off, a deadpanned glare directed at Akko. “Don’t expect it to happen again at all.”

“Why not? I could get what I want for once~” Akko sang, finding a weakness of Sucy, finally, that she could use against her.

“Well, If you’re that willing… be my guest.”

Suddenly Akko felt a chill run up her spine as Sucy gave her a once-over.

“I have no qualms with that, we can have it arranged.”

Akko’s grin dropped as she quieted down, terrified of whatever possibilities hid behind that expression of her girlfriend. “On second thought, let’s not.” She backed out rather quickly and silence resumed between the two roommates once more.

After a few minutes, Akko’s sweat accumulating on her brow once more from the pain, she heard a frustrated sigh come from her companion.

“Sucy?” She called.

“Why can’t I find it?! Nothing seems to match the description.” She scratched her head, messing up her usual smooth hairdo. “How can I help you? I don’t even know what’s wrong- and I… I thought…”

“Shh…” Akko pulled Sucy into a weak side hug. “You’re trying. I know you are. It’s not like we can’t take our time. I’m… I’m a strong girl!” Akko said in a silly voice, and as she gazed into Sucy’s eyes, the girl in a rare giggling fit, Akko was reminded of how much Sucy loved her, enough to have a few tears sitting at the corners of her eyes.

Smiling at that, feeling an overwhelming pleasant warmth, Akko leaned forward, planting a kiss on Sucy’s forehead.

“I know you can do it.”

Sucy simply nodded, once gain baffled by her girlfriend’s believing heart and amazing encouragement skills. “I’ll do it. Just you watch me.”

Despite saying that, no results were gleaned and Akko was now on the brink of passing out from the pain that wasn’t going away at all. Sucy looked like she was about to rip her hair out.

“H-hey, Sucy? Maybe we should ask a professor-?”

“Just a bit more Akko.” Sucy replied stubbornly. “Just a bit mo-“

The door swung open and in hopped a float-y and grinning Lotte, bags and bags of merchandise hanging on her arms. She noticed after a bit the state of her room, and her roommates and cocked her head in worried confusion.

“What is…?”

“Accidentally put poison instead of sugar, I think.” Sucy explained briefly and Lotte just continued to stare, unnerving Akko and Sucy.

“And?”

“I can’t seem to find which poison.” Sucy rolled her eyes.

“If you said you mistook it for sugar, can’t you just… I don’t know…” Lotte spoke, placing her things away and sitting with her best friends as she stated in a matter-a-fact way. “Look for a poison that looks like sugar?”

…

A loud slap was heard in the room and Sucy’s forehead was as red as the random parts of Akko’s body.

“Ugh!” The couple groaned.

“Oh, you’re really starting to become more and more like a couple in unity.” Lotte clapped as Sucy finally found the poison and made the cure.

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

As they lay in bed, Sucy sleeping over on Akko’s, as it had become a… tradition of sorts for them to sleep together, sleeping on one’s bed on certain days and such, the Filipina couldn’t help but ask.

“Still love Gingerbread?” She asked teasingly. “If you do, you’re some masochist… or maybe immune to trauma.” Sucy jested, she knew Akko was anything but that, but what’s a little fun after a problematic day?

Akko shifted from her position, lying beside Sucy and faced her with her own grin. “Do I still love you after all that?” She shot back and Sucy couldn’t help but blush, obviously knowing the answer. Akko nodded, the red glow on Sucy’s face visible even in the dim lighting. “I guess we both know the answer then.” Akko laughed as she turned back to her original position.

There was a shift beside her and her droopy eyes opened wide as Sucy lay atop her, placing a small kiss on her lips before hiding in Akko’s chest.

“I love you too… idiot.

“I love you too Jerk.”

Merry Christmas LIZ!

A/N: Soooo? How was it? SO SO SO SO? I hven’t written in a while so I barely… know my abilities… ;-; I hoped y’all enjoyed? So anyone else wanna send a prompt can.. do it since well... yeah. I hope to post 12 of these. Soon. I only got 2-3 tho. hahhha... Thank you for reading still from this lousy author. Thank you!

~Shintori Khazumi!

#SuAkko #lwa #Little Witch Academia #akko kagari #sucy manbavaran #fanfic #prompts

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austennerdita2533 · 7 years

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Tagged by the lovely @laufire to do this forever ago and am just now getting around to it haha. Thanks sweets! xx

name - Ashlee Bree

nickname - Ash, Ash Bash, AJ, Aya, Blondie, Goldie/Goldilocks, Jbird, Princess, Twin, etc.

gender - Female

star sign - Aquarius

height - 5′6′’

time - 7:27 P.M.

bday - Janurary 23rd

fav bands - Maroon 5, Fall Out Boy, Bee Gees, ABBA, Journey, Earth, Wind and Fire, Blink 182, Rascall Flatts, the Beatles, the Rolling Stones etc. etc.

fav solo artist(s) - Adele, Ed Sheeran, Jason Mraz, John Mayer, Stevie Wonder, Frank Sinatra, Billie Holiday, Jack Johnson, Shawn Mendes, Charlie Puth, Enrique Iglesias, Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash etc. etc.

song stuck in my head - “Want You Back” by HAIM

last movie i watched - Moonlight in Vermont on Hallmark Channel. *don’t judge me*

last show i watched - the Mindy Project, which I love to death because it’s fun and silly with a big ‘ol touch of heart.

when did i create my blog - April 2014 (I literally always have to look this up because I never remember.)

last thing i googled - GoT spoilers

do i have another blog - Not on Tumblr, but other places? Yes.

do i get asks - Yes

why i chose my url - Because I’m a huge Austen nerd who manipulates words and languages because I simply cannot help myself

following - 435

followers - 1228

avg hours of sleep - 4-7

lucky number(s) - 2, 5, 33

instruments - I don’t play any myself, but I’m in love with string instruments (violin, viola, cello), acoustic guitar, and piano.

what am i wearing - Yoga pants, a hoodie, and slippers

dream job - Book editor

dream trip - Around the world

fav food - Porkchops

nationality - American

fav song right now - “Another Love” by Tom Lodell

sexuality - Straight

hogwarts house - Gryffindor

dog or cat person - Dog, but I love cats as well.

blankets you sleep with - 4 because I’m always cold

why you got a blog - Klaroline sucked me in here and now there’s no getting out lol

top (3) fav characters - Elizabeth Bennet, Anne Shirley, Hermione Granger

no. of posts - Too lazy to look

pokemon team - I don’t have one?

fav color - Blue

relationship status - Single

lip- or chapstick - Lipstick when I’m out and about, chapstick everywhere else

last song i listened to - “Banana Pancakes” by Jack Johnson

top (3) shows - Gilmore Girls, Grey’s Anatomy, Game of Thrones (This changes all the time. Except Gilmore Girls is always #1 lol)

top (3) ships - JavaJunkies, Darcy & Elizabeth, Klaroline

books i’m reading - Eye of the Beholder by Nana Malone, Astrophysics for People in a Hurry by Neil deGrasse Tyson, a collection of Pablo Neruda’s poetry

I’m being lazy and not tagging anyone. But if any of y’all want to do this, go for it and @ me. :)

#tag games #about ashlee bree

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belovedmuerto · 7 years

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Creative Works of 2017

Time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works you’ve created this year (art, writing, edits, etc!) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world in 2017. Tag as many writers/artists/etc as you want (original or fan!) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works.

I got tagged by both @hawkguyz and @drowningbydegrees to do this one. Thank you lovelies, I’ll brag on myself a little bit here!

On the other hand, I actually only posted six fics in 2017, so narrowing it down to five faves seems a bit silly. I’ll pick three instead.

In no particular order:

all that’s mine I pretty much just wrote comfort fics last year. Gee, I wonder why. No real plans to stop either. YOLO.

in this twilight I wrote this for the the SBB last year. It was my very first bang, and it was a little daunting? I’d never written to a deadline before. There were things about the bang I loved, and things I was less enthused about, but I am pretty happy with this fic. Happy enough that I’m hoping to write more in this universe this year. But that’s another post.

put a ring on it Look, this universe is clearly a thing i like. So here’s another fic from it for my third pic. I... didn’t have much variety last year, it seems. I should work on that. MOAR AUs IN 2018!

Other stuff, because fuck it it’s my blog i will reflect in the way i see fit:

I don’t do art, but I do knit. I’d learned several years ago, but I relearned in 2017, and completed my first two projects. Both scarves. Both the same scarf, in fact, lol. One for me, and one was a gift. But that’s art, and I made that. (Also bought a fuckload of yarn. there’s just so many pretty colors, you guys). I also hope to finish more knitting projects this year.

the other creative thing i did in 2017 was go back to instagram. I got an iphone 8+ pretty much specifically for the camera, so i figured i should start using the damn thing. i try to post at least one picture on my insta every day. it’s a lot of pictures of the sky (because, again: THE COLORS YOU GUYS), and my cat, and yarn, but you’re welcome to follow me if you like that sort of shit. my insta handle is the same as here, and ao3, and pretty much everywhere else.

I also got out some of my tarot decks (i have many) at the end of the year and I’m trying to cultivate more of a relationship with them in the new year.

#the year in creativity #my writing #personal #creativity #knitting #tarot

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omgnsfwisnsfw-blog · 5 years

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NSFW #2.2: Chum

The crescent moon shone in the clear, star-dotted sky above. The warm air blew in a soft breeze, and all around were the whooshing of waves. The scent of salt gave the air a not-unrefreshing tang. And on this beach, far from home, the waves broke over Mike McGuire’s ankles, the Bronx Brawler wearing a black sports-bra like top under a gauzy vest of orange fabric they’d picked up at a trip to the marketplace along with black shorts that went about halfway down to their knees. Along with the moon, a few inflatable lanterns were placed strategically in a semicircle into the sand, giving the scene an air of quiet ambiance. There were thoughts running through their head, thoughts that were totally untoward with the serenity around them. They were bottled, for now, like a storm confined to a teacup ready to be unleashed at the proper time. But for this second, they breathed it in. “Mom used to take me to the beach as a kid. Pool, too. She taught me everything she fuckin’ knew and I took to it like a duck. Not as good as her but most people ain’t.” They sighed, and looked behind them to the person they were speaking to. “Sometimes I really wish I was a fuckin’ shark. I’d just swim all day and eat stupid shit-talking bitches alive.” John Bishop Church was near, also dressed for the setting, in a simple black tank and matching board shorts with green racing stripes down the sides. His arms folded over his chest and he frowned as his mind clicked through how to respond to such an admission. His shoulders slumped as nothing came through. The camera phone, set on a tripod, framed them both in the picture clearly. The scene faded to black. There were precious seconds in this blackness before a voice, John’s, chimed in, “That about sums it up, right, Brenna Gordon?” The picture came up again. A few more lanterns had been thrown in quickly, the inner LEDs glowing orange and green, the lighting a bit brighter now. Mike shook their head, letting out a harsh sigh. “You know what? I am fuckin’ disappointed. I mean, I could go with the standard ‘I thought we were friends’, but I’d just be kidding myself. I thought you were cool enough but facts’ facts, I didn’t really know you all that well. But I did think pretty good of you, enough to know you ain’t to be fucked with, you’re dangerous as shit in that ring, even enough that I didn’t think you were the kind of person to fuckin’ regurgitate the same tired BS already crapped out by silly douchenozzles I pictured you a better caliber of person than. Shows how the fuck much I know.” Their shoulders shrugged in a distinctive ‘oh well’ manner. “To say we haven’t heard all of that before would be an understatement. But I get it,” John nodded, “This is a new audience and so the old idiom of ‘If I haven’t seen it, it’s new to me.’ applies here.” John stepped further back into the water. “So let’s dive in,” his tone was dry but with a lilt of borrowed sarcasm, “This big conclusion, Brenna? I agree with Mike. Whether it's two malcontents in a department store, a braggadocious silver-tongued Texan, or YOU, Brenna Gordon, it all sounds awfully familiar. Because we say we aim to be the best, that we claim to be the best - we are self-righteous,” his gaze narrowed, “So tell us. How are we supposed to approach this?” He turned to Mike. “Mike, I hope we can manage to win. It’d sure be nice but if not, oh well, losing is just as fun.” “Golly gee willikers, Church, that it would. Also I’m sure glad we don’t have any aspirations about leaving this tag division or any others better than we found it. Who wants to elevate the game when the status quo is just peachy fuckin’ keen?” An exaggerated wink, accompanied by an ‘OK’ gesture. The pinky and ring fingers are then lowered as Mike’s cheesy expression melts into a glare. “And just as a side note, a heavy chunk of our merch proceeds go to shit like the Trevor Project, Project Innocence… you know, not that it matters but since we’re apparently playing Selfless Good Guy Bingo here thought I’d educate your lily-white ass. Not like it’s right there on our website or anything.” John stepped back to Mike. He put a hand on their shoulder. “I understand what this is about, though. Doing anything to blur and obfuscate what this is about. With your infinite knowledge, you try your damndest to stake claim to what we are, what we aren’t. But we are here right now to put this ship back on course. Brenna, your partner Berlin seems to have the right idea. Tag. Team. Wrestling.” “See, I like him. But then, I liked Brenna, so I’m kinda not in the position to trust my initial impressions of people right now. If Brenna’s effect on you is to make you more like her? I’d head for the hills, my dude, before you start acting like you’re perpetually on the rag. But let’s play harpy’s advocate here for a minute. Let’s pretend that we really are writing you off because you don’t meet our standards for what a tag team should be. We’d be walking into an ass kicking. You know why? Because I see something. Something I don’t see very often unless I’m watching tapes of me and Church. Last time I saw it in another team we lost our straps, so you two had better believe the last fucking thing we’re gonna do is underestimate you. But I wonder… do you know what to do with that? Has your chemistry been tested and galvanized like ours has?” “Don’t know. We didn’t know much about Berlin’s history but thanks to him, we have somewhere to start,” and then John raised a finger up, “and yes, one of our golden rules is to never underestimate our opponents. That doesn’t mean we don’t listen and observe. Like what exactly stops Berlin Anderson from learning about us on his own instead of waiting for hearsay from a person who has never shared a ring with us before? Another thing, the greatest tag teams ever? They stood together, brothers-in-arms, and they did not speak at cross purposes.” “Are we one of the greatest tag teams ever? Nah. Despite what you may think we think, we ain’t that full of ourselves. Maybe one day we’ll stand with the Foundations, the Legions, the Busters, the Express. The same dedication to the art flows through our fuckin’ veins, after all.” Another wave broke around their ankles, perhaps a bit shallower as the moon pulled the tide back little by little. Step by step, they emerged out of the water. They both crouched in front of the camera. “One final thing, Brenna Gordon, only my friends call me John. You’ve made it abundantly clear what you are.” “Opponent. Adversary. But most importantly? In our way. Later, chum.” Grinning like a great white, Mike reached toward the camera and cut out the picture. Mike sighed as the extinguished light on the phone signified that their words and actions were once again private. They helped gather up the lanterns, turning off the lights and deflating them until just a couple were still lit. Holding onto one, they sat down on the sand, looking out to the water as it rose up to lap at their toes. “I thought we were done with this bullshit. I know you said we weren’t here to make friends, but not being treated with fucking disdain by somebody I thought was cool - again - would be nice.” Brenna’s words hadn’t been as devastating to them as other words and actions had been in the past. Still, though, it wasn’t pleasant. John sat down beside them. His hand squeezed around Mike’s wrist lightly, “I didn’t want to say but she never was going to get us. She doesn’t know us. Doesn’t need to.” “Does anybody?” It was a gloomy thought, they supposed. But who did they have but each other? Now that they thought about it, they could really count their friends on their fingers and have digits left over. Their fanbase was loyal and always nice to have, but Mike knew better than to equate fandom with friendship. John didn’t think about that too much. He liked what he liked. To a fault, whatever routine he was given, he would adhere to. For better or worse. And so their circle was tight. He deflected perhaps the morass nature of this query, “Sure. But present company excluded, this business isn’t much for that. And maybe we were accountable for some of that. But outside of that? Your family, I’d consider them friends foremost.” Mike smiled up at him in the way they wouldn’t consciously do if there was a camera on them, and scooted a little closer, their head resting on his shoulder. Something crossed their mind then, something they’d asked about once before. They’d gotten a little information then, but something in them always craved a little more. Anything that could get them closer to him. “...can you tell me a little more about yours?” There was an extended period of silence between the two. “Not much to say…” John trailed off. He wasn’t ending the conversation. However, it’d been so long. He had shared with Mike about the lack of contact. Relationship trends would indicate that the little notoriety that John had obtained in the last year in something other than what used to define his existence would draw that sort of attention. John was sure he had extended family. He didn’t live in a vacuum. But, he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t really remember who they were. And while it had been many years since he really thought about her, his mother, always seemed to understand who he was - even if he didn’t. As if in mid memory, he blurted out, “I didn’t want to join the wrestling team in middle school. My mother insisted. Said I had the right mind for it.” He didn’t want to admit that he could barely remember her face. His ties to that life had been washed away. John’s mother may have planted the seed but she never saw her son succeed and grow to love the sport of wrestling, in all its forms. The following tendencies may have sounded familiar to Mike. “I’d fill up notebooks for each event I’d compete in…” He cut himself off, clamming up. Internally, something utterly devastating pushed against him. It was an impossible desire to have something that he could never have. And while the details were blurry due to the passage of time, he could envision the enormity of that very moment that brought this on. John remembered clearly lamenting to his mother that she was the only person who seemed to understand his line of thought. She laughed at that notion. She said that it wasn’t too hard. And that she would hope John could find that elsewhere with someone else. A different bond. He was too focused on the breaking of his routine to attach any credence to what she said. And it was too late to share his enlightenment now. He lowered his head, the impact of that void finally hitting him after all these years. Mike almost said something. The last few minutes had been nothing but the night wind and the steady sound of the ocean. Someone else might have been confused or annoyed at the drop-off, or have said something by now. They just pressed themselves a little closer. They wouldn’t invalidate his feelings by telling him not to be sad, especially about something like this, but there was no reason he had to be sad alone.

#location: morocco #valor pro wrestling

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