#i had this mostly finished in my drafts for forever and just kept forgetting about it

[smytherines]

2 and 27 for curtwen? pretty please???

2. Any sleep habits either had to get used to?

I did the whole Owen Carvour blanket thief thing as a bit for Like Real People Do, but I'm a true believer now. Owen's always cold and he steals blankets, but Curt is a human furnace and wiggles so much that he ends up out of the blankets even when he sleeps alone, so it works out for them. Curt has ADHD so he flops around a lot while sleeping, and if he's trying to fall asleep he just constantly jiggles his foot or flexes his ankle, which is really annoying to Owen initially, but after they've been together awhile Owen always kinda misses the movement when he sleeps alone

27. What random everyday object/activity makes them think of each other?

Cigarettes and whiskey are too easy, so...

So I shouldn't say it because I've had this scene written in my head for forever and I'm just about to be able to write it for chwm, but I think Curt thinks about Owen when he sees a really clear night sky, where you can see the stars really well, because once Owen told Curt that he usually just forgets to look up at the sky, because there's too much light and smog in London to see the stars, and that as a kid he used to sneak out during air raids when all the lights were off and blackout curtains drawn, because it was the only time he could just barely see stars in London. After Owen falls, Curt is glad he lives in DC because he can't see the stars there either.

For Owen, I think he sees Curt in a lot of little things- when he sees a nice car that he knows Curt would appreciate, when he (occasionally) drinks coffee, when he uses the lighter Curt gave him, when he smells a fire burning or pine trees or apple pie, a thousand little things that before the fall make him smile for a second and miss Curt and think of him. After the fall he also adds every ache and pain, every headache, every time his scars itch or burn to that pile. After the fall its like he's trapped in a sensory nightmare because so many things that used to be pleasant reminders of Curt suddenly feel like some terrible cosmic taunt about the life he used to have

[sluttywonwoo]

study buddies || k.mg x reader

Pairing: frat!mingyu x fem reader 

Summary: studying for midterms with the guy you’re hooking up with goes exactly how you’d expect

Warnings: swearing, light smut (18+)

Word Count: 1.6k

a/n: reworked this old blurb originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark ) for my gf’s birthday :)) happy birthday @hotgirlmingyu

Masterlist

You woke up to banging on your apartment door. Groaning, you rolled over to check your phone and saw that it was six am. You pushed yourself up and out of bed and padded into the kitchen to answer the door. You were surprised the relentless knocking hadn’t woken up your roommate, but she was a pretty heavy sleeper.

You yanked the door open to see Mingyu with a handful of textbooks. You squinted at him in confusion, wondering if you were seeing things. Mingyu had never been to your place before, you didn’t even know he knew where you lived.

His appearance startled you a bit. His hair was messy where it was usually slicked back or styled and he was wearing gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him in anything other than khakis and a douchey printed shirt.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, rubbing your eyes.

He frowned. “You said we should study for midterms together.”

You thought back to the last time you’d seen Mingyu. You couldn’t remember saying anything like that.

“Was I drunk?”

“Probably.”

“So why are you here?”

“To study. You agreed that we could help each other out.”

“Mingyu, I don’t even remember agreeing to that.”

“Well I’m already here,” he said and pushed past you into your apartment.

“Seriously? It’s Saturday.”

“Yeah, and midterms are next week.”

“Couldn’t you have waited until the sun was up?” you grumbled, mostly to yourself and shut the door behind him.

“We’ve got a lot of material to cover.”

You cursed under your breath as you watched him set up at your kitchen table, knowing you should probably study even though you desperately wanted to go back to bed.

You and Mingyu had met at a party at his fraternity and woke up the next morning tangled in the sheets of his bed. To say it was awkward would have been an understatement. You didn’t think you’d ever see him again, but to your horror, you saw him in your stats lecture on Monday and your mythology class on Thursday. This was a pretty big university. Why did the same asshole have to be in two of your classes?

As much as it annoyed you, you couldn’t stop thinking about Mingyu, and apparently, he was having a similar dilemma because every time you went out he seemed to be there, and every time you hooked up.

That was the extent of your relationship, though. You didn’t even speak to each other in class or at parties. The only time you talked was behind closed doors when one or both of you was naked. Even then you kept your guard up because you refused to let yourself fall for a frat boy with commitment issues who never wanted to be seen with the same girl twice. A boy who wouldn’t even talk to you in public.

But you couldn’t ignore the way your heart fluttered when he said your name as he was about to cum, or the way his lips felt against yours. He could be a total dick, but you’d also seen a softer side of him that he didn’t show many people. You forced yourself to forget about that side. It was easier that way.

“Okay, what are we starting with?” you asked with a sigh.

“We have the stats exam first, we should work on that.”

You made a face. Statistics was the harder out of the two for you. In fact, it was the hardest class you were taking this semester.

“I can’t believe I’m doing math before seven am.”

“You won’t be complaining when you ace the midterm,” he quipped, already working on a practice worksheet.

You watched him solve problems like he was checking items off a list. You knew he was good at statistics, but you didn’t know he was that good. Figures, a guy like him was good at pretty much everything. Everything except mythology apparently, because once you’d switched to that he was flustered and frustrated. You would quiz him on myths only for him to get every single question wrong.

“Mingyu, did you even read any of these?” you asked, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Yes, y/n, I read every one. How do you think I passed all the reading quizzes?”

“Cheating?” it slipped out before you could stop it and Mingyu gave you a hard glare. You held up your hands defensively. “Just a joke.”

“I don’t think it was.” He licked his lips. “But for what it’s worth I read them all. I just can’t keep them straight.”

You sighed. You felt bad, but you were getting frustrated too. And not just because Mingyu wasn’t grasping the myths. This was the longest you’d ever spent together (at least while you were awake) and you hadn’t even had sex. He just smelled so nice and looked so cute when he was concentrating that you couldn’t help feeling a little impatient. You had been at it for hours, you thought you would’ve done it at least once by now. But Mingyu was more serious about studying than you thought. It was kind of admirable and kind of annoying.

“Okay well reread through the Egyptian myths and I’ll quiz you again.”

“Alright.”

He pulled out his reading packet and flipped to the section you took out your phone and scrolled through social media mindlessly as he read, but it quickly got boring. You wished Mingyu would take a break so he could rail you. He was still reading intently, but you figured a little distraction couldn’t hurt.

You started by taking your hair down from your bun and shaking it out so that it fell around your shoulders. You knew your shampoo drove Mingyu crazy and hoped it would have an effect on him today. He shifted his seat, but didn’t look up from the packet. Next, you leaned over and rested your head on his shoulder. You’d never done something so domestic like this with Mingyu, but it seemed to work because he cleared his throat and adjusted his sweatpants.

“You know you could be working on math.”

You shrugged. “We already did stats for hours today. I think I’ll jump off a bridge if I look at one more differential equation.”

He fell silent and tried focusing back onto the reading, but you moved your hand to his thigh and kept it there as you continued to through twitter, not even reading what was on your screen.

“Stop that,” Mingyu muttered, making you jump a little.

“Why?”

“Fuck, because you’re distracting me. You look too hot right now.”

“I’m wearing pajamas.”

“I really don’t care. You still look hot and I’m trying not to fuck you senseless right now.”

“Well what’s stopping you?” you asked lowly and nipped at his ear.

“Need to finish this,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“I can’t convince you to take a break?” You moved the hand on his leg up so that you were cupping him over his pants.

He shook his head. “After.”

You leaned over and kissed his neck, then his jaw, and felt him get hard under your hand. “If I have to stop what I’m doing you won’t be able to walk for the next week.”

“That sounds like more of a motivator than a deterrent,” you admitted. “I’ll suck you off,” you offered and hooked your thumb in the waistband of his sweats, trying to bribe him.

“If you let me finish I’ll eat you out,” he countered.

You straightened up. It sounded like a pretty good deal.

“Fine.”

A few minutes passed in silence and you were waiting patiently, typing up a rough draft of an essay you had due for another class when Mingyu groaned.

“What?” you asked, wondering if he needed help.

“Can you please stop that?”

“Stop what? I’m literally doing nothing.” You were genuinely confused now.

“Just- I don’t know you’re making it so hard to concentrate.”

“Am I making it hard?” You smirked.

“Very funny.”

“Would it help if I put a paper bag over my head?”

“Probably.”

“Come on, keep reading about Osiris.”

“I don’t want to read about Osiris anymore, he’s a dick.”

“The faster you finish the faster you can get off.”

“I thought you didn’t want to wait,” Mingyu pointed out, trying to deflect.

“I think I recall something about you going down on me if I let you finish reading.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, but didn’t turn back to the book. Instead, he continued to gaze at you with those big brown eyes. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“What?” You felt your cheeks get warm.

“I just really want to kiss you right now.”

You smiled and raised your chin, challenging him. “Then do it.”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. You closed your eyes and kissed him back, savoring the moment.

When you pulled away, Mingyu’s eyes were dark with want and you could see that he was now fully hard in his sweatpants.

“How about I eat you out now anyway?” He suggested, leaning forward to kiss your neck.

You moaned and brought your hands to his hair.

“You trying to bribe me?”

“Is it working?”

“Fuck yeah.”

Mingyu stood and picked you up from your chair. You wrapped your legs around his waist again. He pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth and smirked.

“Promise you’ll finish studying after?” you asked.

He considered it. “Does what we’re about to do count as studying mythology? Because it’s going to be legendary.”

You scrunched up your face in distaste. “No, I take it back. Put me down.”

Mingyu grinned. “Hey! You know no ones gives it to you as good as I do.”

“That confident are you?”

His grin turned into a smirk. “Is that a challenge?”

lmk what you think i always appreciated feedback!!

forever tags: @haven-cove

shoot me an ask to be added/removed from my taglist

[bixbythemartian]

you know, I never can tell when I’m going to release a story and it’s going to do numbers, especially one with a readmore, but the daycare one is doing some numbers

not exactly what I expected publishing a story at like 9 pm on a Tuesday

before I get on with this long ramble, I want to thank everybody who took the time to make a comment on this when they reblogged it, or replied to it. there’s enough that I can’t reasonably respond to them all, but they’ve been universally lovely. for those who this particularly resonated with because you work with young kids: I was thinking of people just like you, and I’m glad this story found you.

I wanted to talk about my writing process on this one, because it was actually kind of interesting. if you’re not interested, just scroll on baby, I’m rambling to myself as much as anything.

this story is like many of the other prompts I’ve written, finished and unfinished- I picked it because I knew how the next bit went. the ones I finish are because I know how the next bit goes until I have said what I wanted to say, which is mostly because I figured out what I wanted to say by the time I’ve said it.

the thing about this one in particular is I wrote it all the way through with a much more traditional narrative style, and then the ending just wasn’t working so I deleted most of it. I’ve heavily edited a lot of them, but I haven’t completely rewritten them in a more experimental (for me) style.

I kept getting bogged down in the details, the transitions between the things I wanted to say and the things I had to say to get to the things I wanted to say, and I was worried that to tell it properly it was going to have to be much longer. so I started over with the bit I was certain came next, those first couple lines.

I wanted to keep the immediacy of the first person present tense that it started with, and tried to think of how she would say that first line ‘my mom has been texting me...’

I realized her voice was low, she was almost murmuring. why is she talking so low?

she has a voice recorder. she’s talking into a voice recorder. she’s in a closet or a bathroom, away from the kids so they don’t hear her.

why does she have one of those? 

she uses it to manage forgetfulness, so she has a habit of talking to it when stuff happens she wants to remember later, and over time it’s turned into more of a journal kind of thing.

once I had that, then I had the framing. I didn’t need to write transitions, I could boil the story down to strictly character moments.

what’s that thing about ‘to make an apple pie, you first have to invent the universe’? I think it’s a science related quote, actually, but I’m really feeling it at the moment.

my biggest struggle once I found the framing was how much to describe her voice and crying and such, and I ended up deciding to leave it more vague.

that made more sense for a transcript style, to me, and also left room for your interpretation of her voice, but I was worried leaving it too vague would mean the emotions would not be conveyed as strongly. there’s always a trade off between authorial intention and leaving room for reader interpretation. too much stage direction can ruin things, so can being too vague.

by the reactions I’ve gotten, I hit a sweet spot, but that was the part I was the most worried about.

I cried almost the whole time I wrote the second version, btw. And, to be clear, at this point I’d written the whole story. the substance barely changed between drafts. I already knew the day was saved. I had shed some tears writing the previous version, as well, so if you shed some tears whilst reading it, let it be known that I was fucking waterworks writing it.

here’s some quick fun facts

just thinking about the part where she worries about making sure they don’t eat too much pizza and candy so they’re not sick or hurting when the end comes is still fucking me up

so is the part where she’s reflecting on them having a good day, feeling inadequate, completely unaware of what an amazing thing she has done

the guy who brought the pizza had stolen that car and was joyriding, and encountering Addie changed his life forever, and I may tell that story, too, at some point, if I figure out how the next bit goes

the second draft I actually composed every line vocally and typed as I spoke, the dashes are where *my* voice cracked and I stopped speaking. I’ve never written quite this way before, it was interesting, might try it again.

I deliver pizza until like 2 or 3 am so it’s normal and reasonable for me to still be up at 5 ish am my time, if you are doing the math and are concerned.

I’m mulling over doing an audio version of this post. I kind of want to, but I don’t want to fuck it up. 

[the--sad--hatter]

No Good Deed (Steve x Reader)

For @adeleoctobre who gave me the lovely request... 

Hey, I don't know if you would want to write that but just an idea that crossed my mind. Reader is on the more administrative and diplomatic kind of thing, like relations with the UN... The avengers don't understand why they need her or the amount of work and stress she is under... I don't know if that would interest you or what ship would be good with that, it's mostly an idea 😅 

You weren’t egotistical enough to think you could singe-handedly change the world but you wanted to a part of the change. You wanted to be one of the people that broke on of the spokes on the wheel and stopped the endless cycle of corruption. You wanted to stand up for the little guy. It’s why you studied politics, why you moved to Washington and took on unpaid internships, fetched coffee for bastard politicians and made sure to schedule their dinners with their wives and their mistresses on different evenings, never overlapping.

 You needed to be in the game before you could really start playing you told yourself. Keep your head down, work hard, don’t make any noise until you’re in a position where they have to listen.

 But your years of patience didn’t pay off, they seeped into your bones, making you brittle and bitter.

The Sokovia Accords. They were the bane of your existence. All your carefully thought out arguments and research against them had been twisted and manipulated by your bosses and suddenly you were the woman who anticipated problems before they happened. Steps were taken to cover up and hide everything you’d been afraid of, pre-emptive press statements were drafted to cover the backlash you’d warned them of.

 “We aren’t stopping potential threats, we’re causing them. We make people sign their names, put them on a list and there will be blowback. Before you know it we have Enhanced individuals accusing us of waging war and they will fight back.” You warned.

 “You’re right. We need to make sure we have access to our own Enhanced individuals. People with these abilities have a duty to use them as well, let’s make sure that’s in The Accords. The UN needs to be able to use these assets.”

 You tried to stop it and you ended up making it worse. You’d worked your way up the chain of command to make a difference, naively thinking that the more power you gained, the less power the big guys would have over you.

 You weren’t one of the people who was breaking the wheel, you were just another spoke on the infernal thing.

 And to make sure they’d really rubbed the salt into the wound, your bosses gave you the worst possible assignment.

 On-Site Accords Liaison to The Avengers.

 Between Tony Stark constantly hanging up on Secretary Ross or putting him on hold, and Captain Rogers having defied the accords for months on end before he and his friends were pardoned and brought home, The UN had decided they needed someone at the base with the team. That was where you came in. Begrudgingly.

 Very begrudgingly. But it wasn’t like they wanted you there either. They made that clear from the get-go, with their overly stiff and formal hello’s, their watchful eyes and resentful remarks.

 Some were worse than other. Tony Stark, who had spear-headed the Accords but didn’t like beaurocrats, went out of his way to be as childish as possible. He was late for meetings, spoke over you, handed in sloppy reports and even his AI had been programmed to randomly close doors on you, stop the elevator at the wrong floor, ‘forget’ to pass on messages. Stark alone had doubled your already considerable workload.

 Then there was The Black Widow. She was extremely polite, always smiling at you and offering to pour you a cup of coffee when you passed each other in the kitchen. But her eyes were cold and calculating, and frankly terrifying. Every encounter with her left the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end and you went out of your way to avoid her. Which was probably what she wanted. At least her reports were always succinct, if a little descriptive about the violence.

 Captain Rogers was the worst. His old-school charm and manners held him back from ever being cruel or rude, but you knew what he thought of you. It was clear from the stiff body language, the way he would force himself to nod a greeting or just cross his arms and glare at you during meetings. Getting him to hand in his reports was like trying to get blood out of a stone.

 The only person who treated you with any measure of respect was Colonel Rhodes and even that was nothing more than professional.

 You were alone in a world that you were making a worse place, doing a job you resented and loathed by the people you respected most of all. But what could you do? Explain to them you were on their side? They would never believe you, hell, you wouldn’t have believed you either.

 You were tied up in bureaucratic tape though and no matter how desperately you wanted to scream and rage and tell Secretary Ross to go fuck himself with a rusty pitchfork, you couldn’t. So you did what you had always done, the only thing you could do. You held your head up, took all the shit and kept shovelling it.

 “The UN wants a team to go to London and…”

 “Sightsee?” Captain Rogers asked coldly, raising a challenging eyebrow at you.

 Most ‘missions’ were recon, spying, sightseeing.

 “Collect information.” You continued, as if he hadn’t spoken.

 “Fine. Next time just email us all the information or have Friday relay it, there’s no reason for you to be here.” He said and you had to hold yourself back from visibly flinching at his words.

 “No reason for me to be where I’m not wanted you mean?” You asked coolly, collecting the files scattered around and piling them in your arms.

 The team had been walking out of the meeting but at your words they paused and looked back curiously, and that was what had alerted you to what you had said. You hadn’t mean to speak aloud but if you were honest, you were too mentally exhausted to put any effort into being polite anymore. So you just finished collecting your things and breezed past them all, ignoring them.

 You didn’t see them again until four days later, when they returned from their mission gone wrong.

 They had decided against observing and taken a more hands on approach, taking down the alien tech dealing base. To say the UN were pissed was an understatement.

 You could hear Secretary Ross yelling from the hallway as you hurried down it, slipping into the meeting room unnoticed.

 “On who’s orders did you decide that you could take down the base, rather than gather intel like you were instructed?” Secretary Ross demanded.

 “Mine.” You said quickly, autocratically, before anyone could say anything else that would land them in more hot water.

 “Yours?” Ross said derisively, looking at you for the first time since you entered the room.  

 “With all due respect sir, pre-emptively taking care of a problem before it becomes an issue is what I’m good at, it’s why you gave me this job.” You said bitterly.

 “And you thought that The Avengers needed to act, rather than observe did you?”

 “I did.” You said firmly.

 You saw Ross turn over the information in his mind, weighing up his anger against your record.

 “Fine. I trust your judgement.” He said, with just a hint of nastiness in his tone.

 The Avengers all studiously ignored you as Ross took a deep breath and nodded once.

 “Dismissed.” He grumbled.

 You turned on your heel and vacated the meeting swiftly. You didn’t want to stick around incase Ross came up with any more questions that you would have to think of convincing lies for, you needed time to come up with the story and put it into a report, changing the teams reports to match yours.

 The way you’d been doing for months without them knowing.

 “Why did you take the blame?” Steve demanded as you ran into your office, his hand stopping the door from closing behind you.

 You hadn’t even realised he’d been following you.

 “Because I could.” You sighed.

 “What did you mean, pre-emptively taking care of a problem before it becomes an issue is what you’re good at?” He asked.

 Your shoulders dropped and you hung your head as all the fight drained out of you.

 “I told the UN that there would be a backlash from enhanced individuals that didn’t want to sign the Accords. It’s why there’s a provision in them that The UN can call on anyone at any time to use their abilities for whatever The UN see’s fit.” You admitted.

 “You’re the reason that people are being drafted? You turned civilians into soldiers? You did that?” Steve spat furiously at you.

 “Yes, I did.” You said coldly.

 “Does free will mean nothing to you? Or do you really not see Enhanced Individuals as people?”

 “Apparently I don’t.”

 “How could you do that?” He asked.

 How indeed.

 “You ruined lives. I hope you’re happy with yourself, ma’am.”

 “Happy?” You snapped, looking up at him with so much anger that he looked taken aback.

 “You think I’m happy? I never wanted to do this Captain, I was trying to stop the Accords. I was naive and stupid, so convinced that I could make a difference. I thought I could change people’s minds, show them why this was a bad idea but all I did was give them worse ideas. My legacy will forever be this, putting people on a fucking list. My fucking hubris, my good intentions all led to me being the thing I hated most in the world. I don’t blame any of you for hating me, I fucking hate myself but don’t think I don’t know I’m a monster, don’t think I don’t lie awake at night feeling the full weight of my sins.” You raged, all your frustration pouring out of you.

 When the dam breaks, there’s always going to be some damage. And suddenly it all came spilling out of you, the helplessness, the frustration, the self-loathing. A garbled scream of fury and angst rose in your throat and you couldn’t swallow it back down, releasing a yell that sounded like a wounded animals you slammed your fists down onto the desk with a loud, echoing thump.

 “I wanted to do good!” You screamed.

 Abruptly, the anger whooshed out of you and you were left hunched over the desk, your shoulders shaking with unrepressed misery.

 “I just wanted to do good.” You repeated in a whisper, too far gone down the well of emotion you’d been drowning in for years to try and stop the tears burning in your eyes.

 When the first sob tore free you were so consumed by the pain and the freedom that came with finally releasing it that you barely registered the large hand that came to rest between your shoulder blades. The tears fell freely, splashing onto the wooden desk and that was when Steve Rogers rested against the edge of the desk and pulled you out of your hunched position over it, guiding you into his arms so he could close them around you and hold you while you fell apart.

 You cried for the person you could have been, the things you should have done and the innocent people your cowardice had hurt. You cried because you needed it, because you’d locked it all inside for so fucking long and you couldn’t contain it any longer. You cried because he was comforting you and he should have been hating you like you deserved.

 “I’m sorry.” You whimpered.

 “I believe you.” He said soothingly, rubbing his hands over your shoulders in an attempt to calm you.

 You stepped back from him, wrapping your arms around yourself and ducking your head to cover your embarrassed expression.

 “I need to write up my report for Ross.”

 “You should send it to us so we can make sure our reports match.” He said with a nod.

 “Just send me them, I’ll make the adjustments as necessary.” You said dismissively.

 A speculative look passed over his face as he regarded you before he nodded and left the room.

 You collapsed onto your chair, thoroughly spent. But, you had a job to do and so you did what you had always done. Straightened your spine, threw back your shoulders and got on with it.

 To your shock, over the next few hours you received several emails. Every member of the team submitted their mission reports to you, promptly. Even Stark. You felt some of the tension in your shoulders release at this little bit of stress being removed from your overfilled plate and went through them all with a fine tooth comb, making sure they all had the added detail of receiving the order to Engage from you directly. By the time you finished and forwarded them edited reports to The Un, the sun had long since slipped below the horizon and you were in need of coffee before you finished up for the day.

 Grabbing your mug you made your way to the communal kitchen, hoping it was empty. It was not.

 “We’ve been waiting for you.” Natasha said as soon as you walked in.

 The team all looked up from their various seats around the room. Apparently they were also knee deep in paperwork because their were boxes and boxes of files scattered around.

 “You know where my office is, there’s no need to wait for me to emerge to seek out coffee.” You said wryly, saluting her with your mug.

 “We knew you had a fuckton of paperwork to do, thanks to us, so we didn’t want to disturb you.” Barton said, pouring coffee into your mug for you.

 “We know what you’ve been up to little miss Un.” Stark said teasingly.

 “You’re going to have to elaborate on that Mr Stark, I do a lot.” You answered.

 “More than you should. We’ve been going through all our mission reports since you arrived. Want to know what we found?” Sam Wilson asked.

 “It appears you have been subtly changing details in our submitted reports, making sure everything was in line with The UN’s demands.” The Vision said, clearly not understanding that the question was rhetorical.

 “So what?” You sighed.

 “So what? So what she asks? You’ve just been casually watching our backs for months and none of us had any idea.” Sam said derisively.

 “What we’re trying to say is, we know that you’ve been helping us and we’re sorry we didn’t realise it sooner.” Steve cut in.

 You should have been relived, elated even. But you were numb and tired and frankly, it was too little, too late.

 “Apology accepted.” You said blankly, walking away before anymore could be said on the matter.

 Thankfully, nobody followed. You weren’t angry or bitter about the way they’d treated you and you weren’t happy or grateful about the apology. You were just tired.

 You were stuck in a rut of just doing your job and nothing else and that was what you kept doing in the following days. But there were little differences that you came to notice that slowly but surely loosened the constant knot in your stomach.

 Friday was infinitely more helpful, passing along messages, getting you to the right floor without you having to ask, casually reminding you that you’d been working for hours and should get some food.

 Reports were submitted in a timely manner, usually in person instead of emailed. Sam Wilson and Clint Barton always bringing a mug of coffee for you when they handed theirs in.

 Natasha and Steve were the biggest change, their attitudes warming considerably to you. Casual, yet heartfelt greetings were tossed your way when you passed by them, and genuine enquiry’s as to how you were doing.

 It took time for things to change, you were so deep into your little pit of misery that you couldn’t quite come up for air straight away but eventually you did.

 “Sup girl?”

 “That better be a big ass cup of coffee Wilson, do you have any idea how much rewriting I had to do to try and justify you fighting a helicopter with your bare hands?” You snapped playfully, smirking at him.

 He threw back his head and laughed, passing the mug to you.

 “But you were a little impressed when you read it, right?” He asked.

 “Was on the edge of my seat the whole time.” You admitted, shaking your head fondly at him.

 “Latest mission was pretty straightforwards, shouldn’t be too much editing to be done in this one.” He informed you, handing it over.

 “I’ll just put it here, next to this highly classified file.” You remarked ‘accidentally’ knocking the file to the ground.

 He played along and picked it up for you, eyes scanning over the information.

 “Hmm.” He said, grinning at you as he handed it back.

 “Be a shame if somebody saw that and warned Cap to get a lawyer to defend Barnes publicly, before the UN could make a big deal out of this.” You mused.

 “Yeah, real shame. You know that eventually Ross is going to figure out what you’ve been up to right? Not that we don’t all appreciate your help kid, but are you prepared for the backlash that’s eventually going to be coming down on you?” He asked in concern.

 “Going to be a mighty crying shame when Ross finds out that he coincidentally found out on the same day I got offered a job by Stark.” You sent a knowing grin at him and winked.

 “So you’ve got a back-up plan? Listen, we just don’t want to see you hurt.”

 “It’s all been worked out Sam, trust me. Pre-emptive strikes are my thing after all.”

 You were finally doing some good, protecting the protectors and you knew that one day it would all come crashing down around you but you didn’t care. You weren’t alone anymore, you were part of a team.

 “This might have to wait till tomorrow.” You said, glancing at the clock and tapping his report.

 “Oh, got a hot date?” He teased.

 “Matter of fact, yes I do.” You said smugly, your words coinciding with the knock at your office door.

 “You ready sweetheart?” Steve asked, a warm, excited smile gracing his features.

Yes, Steve Rogers had been the biggest change recently. His concern for you grew into something more and the comfort you found in his arms strengthened your soul. The hours he spent in your office, helping you rig the system had slowly become filled with longing glances and wondering thoughts. His chair always seemed to end up a little closer to yours every time he visited, his hugs lasted a little longer until one day his lips had sought out yours and it felt so right, so natural, so wonderful. You hadn’t looked back since.

“Aye aye Captain.”

____________________________________________

A/N - I know it’s not my best work, but it ain’t my worst either and I needed to get back into the swing of things so hopefully it was good enough that you liked it a bit. 

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[burnt-tomato]

Something I found in my drafts that I might finish in the future but for now I'll show what I've done

I think it was about Fem!reader x Daichi and the storyline are real or actually happened plus the part that you'd suddenly break (except the part where I'm studying in Karasuno obviously and the grade year and the relationship with Daichi lol)

This was made a year and a half ago, but I didn't bother to finish it lmao

Initial Title: "I'm always here for you, so don't hesitate to show me a side no one's ever seen of you"

This is mostly just fluff since I'm not used to angst yet lol

Theme: Fem!reader × Daichi Sawamura; s/o's father died and she tried her best to hide her emotions and remain strong, but one time breaks down and Daichi comforts his s/o

As usual, you spent the entire afternoon in your room, staring at your phone. This phone that he once held that's now yours.

Everyone saw you as this tough and independent girl. To them, you were really cool, physically and emotionally strong, talented and smart, so they expected alot from you. It has always been hard to live up to people's expectations, but you didn't mind and kept doing what you usually do. You hung out with your school's boys volleyball club, mostly with the third years, but you spent the most time with Karasuno's captain, Sawamura Daichi. Rumors has it that you two are even dating, which isn't just a rumor, but you didn't want anyone to know because they saw you as someone who wouldn't put romance on top of studying. So after their team practices, he would walk you home because of how late it is.

- _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ -

Everything was way too sudden. It was the 13th of November, you woke up at a normal daw early in the morning at 5AM. You were on the first year of your high school. You get down to the living room, then greeted by your two parents that are both getting ready to leave for work. You eat breakfast with them, after they kiss you on the forehead and leave, while you go and take a bath and get ready for school. You arrive at your school, greeted by your classmates and friends, classes dragged on like forever, and your head fell face first on your desk, and before you know it you fell asleep. Your friends wake you up when classes ended, then you rush to the volleyball team's gym to meet with the club. After the club finishes practice, you get home, and unusually, some of your relatives were at your home. They all happily greeted you and led you inside, but why are they here? It's not like there's anything special that happened except tomorrow is your mother's birthday, but your relatives don't usually come at birthdays.

"Ah y/n, you should remove your uniform now, you must be exhausted! Here, I'll carry your bag inside" your cousin said.

You still didn't know what was going on. When you changed your clothes, you tried asking your older cousin why they were all here.

"Y/n! Uhh... hey you should do your homework already. Your mom told me to pack some of your outside clothes"

"But why? I mean, I know tomorrow is my mom's birthday, but why pack clothes?"

"Mmm... I'm not sure either" she smiled and chuckled a little after.

Everything seemed normal enough you guessed. Until your mother got home.

(I won't really elaborate this part, but this is when mom got home and told us what happened.)

.

.

This couldn't be real. This is way too sudden. He didn't show any signs of pain or fatigue, so how could this happen out of the blue... these thoughts flooded your head. Your entire family started to cry, except you. You sat there, frozen, trying to process what they said and tried to think the best way to react.

After the funeral, you decided to attend school already so you could catch up with what you missed. When you arrived, all of your classmates and teachers offered condolences, which honestly you didn't really want right now... Even if it's been 4 days already, you tried to act normally and didn't think much about it. This went on for 2 to 3 hours, trying really hard to keep your emotions intact and your head clear.

.

2 years later...

.

You and Daichi have been dating for 2 years since your first year of highschool. Both of you tried your best to keep your relationship a secret so that you could both have private moments together that even the team doesn't know (even if there was one time Suga almost found out), just cuddling (because both of you are too awkward to kiss, so both of you haven't had they firsts yet lmao). Both of you, due to your awkwardness, just cuddle when together, both of you are also really reliable and always there for each other. So one day you asked Daichi if he wanted to have a study date (if that's what it's called). He agreed and you both walked home together to your house. Both of you studied really hard for the upcoming exams and since both of you are smart, you'll probably be fine.

Daichi stood up and stretched his arms upwards.

"Hey y/n, I'm going to get a glass of water, do you want anything?"

"Ah, no." You answered immediately.

He bent down to wrap his arms around you and kissed you gently on your forehead, and walked out. You turned on your phone to look at the time and..

Unread Messages:

Mom: Hi y/n I might be home late again, so you and your friend can help yourself if you get hungry. Love you and goodnight. Sent 10:15 PM

Of course. They always come home late. But either way, even if they say that they'll be home late, you always stay up so that you get see them when they get home. Mom and dad...

Dad...

Dad....

Your hands trembled. You took a look at your phone and stared at it intensely, then you dropped it. You backed away slowly, keeping your eyes on your phone. Your head was filled with thoughts that you had a hard time sorting out, and you couldn't process how you should react or what your emotion should be.

I... how could I forget? Whatever I do, however times I pray or wish, whatever happens... he'll never come back. What happened has happened. It's been a year and a half, I did my best to hold myself in... i didnt even cry that much when they told me... why am I just reacting like this now??? No... y/n... hold it in... hold it in... get a hold of yourself... hold it in... hold it in... hold it i-

"Hey y/n! I'm bac-!"

Shit... it's too late... why... why of all people... why Daichi.... why now.. why infront of him...??? Shit I can't hold it in....

Before you knew it, tears were rolling down your cheeks. You tried to stop them but something kept them going.

"Y/N!! Are you okay??? What's wrong??? Y-y/n!!! How can I help???" He tried to ask you properly and tried to calm you down, but he was in a panic because it was the first time that you cried. It was unexpected of course. The y/n that was really tough, crying.

He rushed to your side and flew his arms around you and pulled your head on his chest. You kept on crying, and you couldn't stop. You've been holding it in for so long, and right now is the time when all of the pain building up has come out. He tried and tried to tell you that everything would be fine and that he was there for you. He also tried asking what was wrong, but your mind was too foggy and your throat hurts from crying so loudly.

Finally you managed to settle down and tried your best to tell him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cry so suddenly."

"Don't EVER apologize because you cried." He said.

You explained to him about your father's death and how you've been hiding your pain. You told him how you hid everything you felt to keep your reputation and to not disappoint those who looked up to you. You didn't want anyone to see this side of you.

"Y/n... why did you hide all of this? For your reputation? To not disappoint anyone? Crying is normal for everyone. Crying doesn't mean you're weak, it means you're strong. You didn't have to suffer all through this pain. You could've opened up to me!"

"B-but... don t I look pathetic this way...?"

"Y/n... any side of you I will accept. I love you the way you are. I love you whatever happens. I love you and will always love you y/n. And please remember that for the rest of our lives..."He said softly.

He looked into your eyes. You stared back at him while he wiped your tears away, and kissed your forehead.

"Sorry... I'm sorry about not telling you this..."

"Y/n... You don't have to apologize, alright? I'll always be here for you and with you. I'm always here for you, so don't hesitate to show me a side no one's seen of you."

Starting that night, you both swore to be there for each other, to love each other no matter what, to never leave each other's side. Starting that night, you never once more hesitated to tell him your problems. Even if people saw you as really strong and tough, you didn't mind being weak and vulnerable around Daichi. You were happy. He reminded you so much of your father, reliable, helpful, caring, and really loving.

"I love you too, Daichi"

Lmao what is this garbage. I feel like it's finished but it has holes in the middle so I think that's what's missing here. The story isn't well written out lol. It's just a draft that I didn't bother to come back to lol. Sorry if it's bad a a a a a a a. Also to clarify, the reason y/n backed away from her phone was because her phone now used to be her father's phone (this is true)

[fallen-imagine-angel]

Forgotten Love - Newt Scamander x Reader

Notes: I got some inspiration and decided to finally write this! It’s been in my drafts for forever but I finally got to work on it and finished it! I hope you guys like it! And, as always, my asks/DMs/requests are almost always open to feel free to drop by! :)

Summary: What happens when Grindelwald recruits you by making you forget everything you ever knew?

Forgotten Love

Newt Scamander x Reader

Requested?: Nope.

Word Count: 3,725

Warnings: Memory loss, if that’s a warning...a little bit of fighting? idk

Run.

That’s all you can do.

“Get her!” Echoes behind you. You feel your feet hit the ground, propelling you forward as fast as you can go. You lost your wand somewhere in the fight along the way.

“Aha!” A woman apparates in front of you, pointing her wand at your chest as you skid to a stop, completely cornered. A wand presses into your back as well.

“Don’t kill her, we need her.” Gellert Grindelwald walks into your peripheral vision. You scowl.

“You think Newt won’t come for me?” You growl, being stubborn even in your last moments. You’re not letting them capture you, so that means death.

“Obliviate.” The woman in front of you smirks. Everything happens at once.

Your entire life flashes before your eyes, mostly moments of you with your fiance, Newt.

~+~

“Who are you?” You narrow your eyes, wand pointed at the intruder.

“M-My name’s Newt. I’m really sorry for disturbing you but I believe one of my creatures snuck in-- there he is!” Newt dashes past you. Your eyes widen.

“He’s going to be the death of me.”

~+~

“Will you travel with me?” Newt asks, hope in his eyes.

“Of course!”

~+~

“Newt, you bumbling idiot! I thought I lost you!” You scream at him, fists hitting his chest.

“You care about me that much, (Y/n/n)?” Newt smiles.

“...Maybe.” You let a tear fall. He wipes it away.

“I care for you even more. I love you.” Newt cups your cheek. You smile at him and through your tear-blurred vision press your lips to his.

~+~

“(Y/n/n)...will you marry me?” Newt is on one knee in front of you, the biggest smile ever on his face.

“Is that even a question, Scamander? Yes, of course, I’ll marry you.” You giggle and kiss him, letting him slide the engagement ring onto your finger.

“You’re going to be Mrs. Scamander.” He grins, pressing his lips to your hand.

“I can’t wait.”

~+~

Then everything goes blank.

All you remember is that you’re a witch. Besides that, you can’t remember a thing.

Not even your own name.

~A few hours later~

You groan and sit up in a comfortable bed, your head pounding.

“Oh my god-- she’s awake!” Someone next to you calls out, causing you to wince at the loud noise.

“Ugh…” You groan, blinking rapidly at the bright lights above you.

“(Y/n/n), are you okay? What happened? We found you passed out in the courtyard--” A man next to you starts to fumble over his words, grasping your hand in his. You jerk your hand away from his at the contact, looking at him alarmingly.

“Wh-Where am I? Who are all of you?” You sit up, pressing your back again the head of the bed. Your eyes scan for your wand, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“It...It’s us, (Y/n). Your friends.” A woman with black hair furrows her eyebrows at you.

“I don’t know any of you. I...I don’t even know me. Who am I?” You gasp, a hand flying over your mouth.

“No…” The man next to you whispers. You turn to him, a confused expression on your face. As you gaze into his eyes, you see his heart breaking. You see his whole world collapse.

You wish this affected you, but you don’t even know him.

“I...I’ve got to go, I’m sorry.” You throw the blankets off of you and get up from the bed, despite their numerous protests. You search through the sheets for your wand, but it’s not there.

“Wait, (Y/n), please...it’s me, it’s Newt...do you seriously not remember me? Remember us?” The man grabs your hand. You turn to him, looking down at your intertwined fingers curiously. You see the ring on your finger.

You feel nothing.

“Please don’t touch me.” You let go of his hand and take the ring off, setting it in his palm. You run out of the apartment before another word can be said.

~+~

You’re walking along the streets, feeling the rain pour down on your skin. The cold seeps into your bones, causing you to shiver.

“Are you okay?” A woman stops you as she passes, holding her umbrella over the both of you.

“Huh? Oh, yeah...I’ll be fine. Thank you.” You smile curtly and start to walk again.

“I can help you, you know. I know who you are.” The woman hums. You stop in your tracks, turning around slowly.

“You do? Are you a witch, too?” You ask quietly. She nods.

“I am, and my leader can help you restore your memory.” She smiles, but there’s a slight smirk in the smile.

“I’d...I’d like that. Can you take me to him?” You ask, walking closer to her again.

“Yes, of course. Take my hand.” She holds out her hand. You take it.

“I’m (Y/n), by the way...I think.” You frown, remembering the name that the people kept calling you when you woke up.

“Vinda, a pleasure to meet you.” She smirks and apparates the two of you away.

~+~

“I’ve been expecting you, (Y/n) (Y/l/n).” A man with two different colored eyes and white-blond hair looks at you deviously.

“Is that my name?” You search his eyes for dishonesty, not knowing who you can and can’t trust at this moment.

“Yes, it is. My name is Gellert Grindelwald and like Vinda said, I know who you truly are. Would you like to know?” He hums, twirling his wand in hand.

“Yes, I would.” Your fingers twitch, itching to know the unknown.

“I can give you bits and pieces at a time as you work under me, but that’s all I can do. Is that okay? I do say, it is better than nothing.” Grindelwald muses, casting a glance your way.

“I’ll take it.” You agree, holding out your hand to shake. Grindelwald smiles and shakes your hand

“It’s a deal, then. You work for me and I help you gain your memory.” He nods. You try for a smile back.

“We have your wand. We found it a while back, it’s how I knew where to find you.” Vinda hands you a polished wand that you immediately knew to be yours. It felt right when you picked it up.

“Thank you, I appreciate all that you’ve done so far.” You take in a small breath, finally feeling some sort of peace now that you have the only belonging you remember.

~+~

“So you’re saying that the people I woke up surrounded by are the bad guys? They want to lock us up?” Your eyes widen as you learn everything. Vinda has taken the responsibility of catching you up on everything Grindelwald can’t restore to your memory.

“Yes. Their names are Tina, Newt, and Jacob. Jacob is a muggle with no magical abilities but Tina is a witch and Newt is a wizard.” She informs you, her eyes boring into yours. You gulp.

“Why were they so nice, then? They didn’t act like they wanted me locked up--”

“Because they were acting. They knew your memories were wiped and they wanted to get you on their side. They’re devious, don’t let them and their lies trick you into submission. Stick with us and we’ll guide you to the truth.” She lays a hand on your shoulder, a small smile resting on her face. You nod.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” You bite your lip.

“Good. I’ll let you get settled now.” Vinda leaves your room. You sit down, thoroughly confused by the events of today.

A sharp pain races through your head and you wince, holding your head in your hands.

You groan as a memory washes through you.

~+~

“Are you kidding me, Newt!? I had it out there, you have to trust me!” You yell at Newt, fury evident in your body language.

“(Y/n), you know I trust you.” He counters, looking offended.

“Do you? Because you didn’t out there. I had it covered but you didn’t trust me so you had to take over. It’s ridiculous. Being in a relationship means trusting each other! If we can’t handle that, then what else can we not handle?” You scream at him.

“I...I can’t have this argument right now. I’m going to my room.” He whispers, dejectedly turning around and trudging off.

~+~

You gasp, coming back to reality again. That had to be a memory.

So you were in a relationship Newt.

“I understand that you saw the memory I just gave you.” Grindelwald walks into your room, hands clasped in front of him.

“Um...yeah, I did. Newt and I were together? What happened?” You question, not knowing who to trust again.

“The two of you never stopped arguing in your relationship. That’s one of the many times that you never settled the argument, just went your own way afterward. The two of you eventually broke things off by starting a nasty duel. You both left it with serious injuries. After that, he kept trying to get you back by proving he was a nice guy again. He’ll continue to do that now that you’ve lost your memories, (Y/n), don’t let him get the best of you. He’s wretched.” Grindelwald explains, causing you to relax a little bit.

“Why did we fight?” You murmur, bringing a hand to your aching head.

“He was cheating on you. You knew but didn’t want to believe it, and he didn’t want you to believe it either. He was in love with another woman named Tina Goldstein.” He hums. You think back to the woman with short black hair who was there when you woke up.

You can trust him, right? He’s the one giving you your memories back.

“Yeah...yeah that sounds...right.” You try to search through the little memory you have, coming back with nothing. You have to blindly trust Grindelwald and that terrifies you, but you have no other choice.

“I’m glad you’re starting to remember. I know it’s hard to come here knowing nothing, having to trust some guy you think you just met, but...I’m very proud of you. You’re doing good things for the wizarding world, you’ll soon see that.” Grindelwald lays a calming hand on your shoulder. For some reason, you feel happy. It’s the first time you’ve felt comfortable and loved since you woke up with no memories.

“I start training tomorrow, right?” You ask, looking up at Grindelwald again.

“Yes. Vinda will train you.” Grindelwald smiles and nods. 

“I’m...I’m excited.” You give him a small smile and his eyes light up. “Good! You’re getting back to your normal self already. Always ready to defend the people you care about.” Grindelwald’s smile turns from slightly cruel to actually caring. You’re startled by the change but you guess he sees you as a daughter figure, someone to train and keep under his wing.

You’re not upset by that revelation.

“Thank you. I’m tired, though, so I think I’m going to go to bed.” You nod, pursing your lips.

“Of course. I will see you tomorrow.” He apparates away. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Tomorrow will be a long day.

~+~

“We will start with a simple duel to test your skills.” Vinda readies her wand, prepared for you to be an easy fight. You’re determined to prove her wrong.

And prove her wrong you did. Within minutes, you have her pinned to the ground with your wand hovering over her neck. She’s shocked but impressed.

“Another round?” You get up and flip your wand in your hand, slightly arrogant.

“Where did you learn those moves?” She asks, narrowing her eyes in a calculating way.

“What do you mean?” You ask innocently.

“You used your wand, yes...but you also used wandless magic as well as physical fighting moves. How? No one else hardly does that…” She trails off, tucking her wand into her jacket pocket.

“It’s more efficient. Witches and wizards only use their wands, which is a dumb move. They’re completely defenseless without a wand, so I’ve become determined to not be defenseless without a wand.” You huff, putting your hands on your hips. You want to say you’ve never been so insulted, but...you don’t know if you have or not.

“Right...uh, I don’t think you need any more training right now. You seem pretty prepared…” Vinda brings her hand up to her jaw where a bruise is forming from you punching her.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” You smile sheepishly at her.

“Don’t be. You’re powerful, you should never be sorry for winning a fight.” She smirks.

“What now?” You ask.

“I need to talk to Grindelwald...you, on the other hand, have some free time now.” She nods curtly and spins on her heel, walking through the grand doors leading to Grindelwald’s office. You sigh and start getting out of your dueling gear.

“Hi, (y/n).” A woman steps into your line of sight, a small smile on her face. She has short golden locks twisted into curls and beautiful makeup.

“Hi?” You ask more than state, confusion lacing through your features.

“Sorry, my name’s Queenie! I forgot that you lost your memories. I knew you before you lost ‘em. And...I used to be friends with Newton and Jacob. Tina is my sister.” She introduces herself, looking timid when she mentions your connections to each other.

“Right...Tina’s sister.” You snarl, not knowing why you carry such hatred for Newt and Tina, probably because what Grindelwald explained to you yesterday.

“Have you gotten any memories back?” She seems nervous, her eyes darting across the room.

“Uh...one, yeah. Newt and I fighting about how we can’t trust each other. I suppose that’s why he cheated on me, huh?” You joke lightly, but you can hear the gravelly tone underneath.

“Cheated on-- oh, uh, yeah. I guess so.” She frowns, looking down to her feet. You squint suspiciously at her.

“You okay?” You ask, tucking your wand away.

“Yup, I’m fine. I’ve got to go, though. See you later!” She runs off. You watch as she leaves, something unsettling about the conversation.

You’ll find out eventually.

~+~

A while later, you’re strolling down an empty hall, grateful for some peace and quiet finally.

That doesn’t last long.

In a flash, Newt is in front of you and he has your hand in his, dragging you away.

“Hey, get off of me!” You struggle in his grip, finally wrenching your hand out of his grasp.

“Come on, (Y/n), we have to go before they figure out I’m here.” He reaches for your hand again, but you jerk it away before he can grab it. You reach for your wand instead, pointing it steadily at him.

“Get away from me.” You growl, having a spell ready to use.

“No, I’m breaking you out of this place. Come with me.” He pleads, not even taking out his wand. You snarl.

Grindelwald warned you about this. He’s tricking you.

“Stupefy!” You flick your wand at him. He barely dodges, his eyes widening more when he realizes you’re serious.

“Stop, you don’t want to do this! I love you and you love me!” He pleads, taking out his own wand.

“Grindelwald told me you fell in love with someone else. Incendio!” You cast, catching his coat on fire. He quickly squirts some water on it with his wand, pointing it back at you but not casting anything.

“And you just believe everything Grindelwald says?” He looks hurt, his eyes pleading in a nonverbal way.

“I have no other choice. Aqua eructo!” You jerk your hand toward him and a jet of water soaks him to the bone. You’re about to cast another spell to turn him to ice when he confuses you. He puts his wand away, holding his hands up and stepping closer to you.

“You don’t have to do this, (y/n/n).” He uses a nickname, one that involuntarily makes you blush. 

“I..I do.” You try to ignore the emotions you’re feeling, opting for focusing on your shaking hand instead. You don’t realize that Newt is standing only about a foot in front of you now, reaching out a hand to your cheek. He cups your cheek and you lean into his touch briefly, it feeling right. 

“No, you don’t.”

Then his lips are on yours.

You kiss back for a split second before you snap out of it, pushing him away.

“Get off of me!” You shriek, more than confused. You thought you knew what to believe, but now you’re not so sure about anything.

Do you trust Newt or Grindelwald?

Your head is splitting.

“(Y/n/n)--”

“Don’t call me that! Get away from me!” You scream in agony, your head pounding from a terrible headache, worse than anything you’ve ever felt before. You sink to your knees, cradling your head in your hands as you feel your throat go raw from your cries.

“Is there a problem, (Y/n)-- guards!” Vinda finds you and Newt, her eyes set ablaze as soon as she sees Newt. She rushes to your side, picking you up from your knees and helping you out of the room.

Part of you hopes that Newt escapes.

~+~

“What happened?” Vinda asks softly, sitting down on the bed next to you.

“I-I don’t know...he just appeared in front of me and starting trying to convince me I loved him…” You gasp, your head still pounding just as hard as earlier. Nothing was getting easier.

“Newt is vile, remember that. I’ll let you get some rest now. You need it.” She gets up and heads to the door, turning your light off as she walks out.

You lay down on your bed, breathing heavily as you feel your head splitting two different ways. Grindelwald or Newt.

Grindelwald or Newt.

“You okay, hun?” Queenie knocks on your door, quickly slipping in, unnoticed.

“I’m...uh, fine.” You groan, obviously anything but fine.

“I lied to you earlier.” She whispers.

“What?” You ask, barely opening your eyes to get a look at her. She looks solemn and sorry, brows furrowed as she concentrates.

“Grindelwald lied to you and I went along with it. Newt never cheated on you, sweetie.” She bites her lip, timidly meeting your eyes.

“I need to go to sleep.” You whimper, not knowing what to believe at all. You want to believe Grindelwald, but with two people telling you otherwise, can you?

You need to sleep on it. Maybe that will reveal the truth.

“Okay. I’ll go.” She whispers and slips out of the door much as she came. You go to sleep, tossing and turning worse than ever before.

~+~

Running. So much running.

“Get her!” Voices.

So many voices.

“Don’t kill her. We need her.” Grindelwald. He smiles at you briefly, cruelly.

“You think Newt won’t come for me?” You grunt.

There’s a wand pointed at you.

“Obliviate.”

~+~

You wake up in a cold sweat, gasping for air.

“(Y/n/n).” You murmur, the nickname rolling off your tongue. Newt called you (Y/n/n) back when you were dueling him, he can’t be making that up if it still made you feel the same way. 

If you hate him, then why didn’t you hurt him in that duel? You never used a truly harmful spell on him. You couldn’t.

Newt and Queenie were right all along.

“Sorry, your thoughts were so loud while you were dreaming and I couldn’t help but overhear. You believe me?” Queenie bursts into your room, a smile gracing her lips.

“Y-Yeah, I do. I remembered...Grindelwald obliviating me. We have to get out of here.” You get up from your bed.

“Oh, honey, I can’t leave. They’ll get suspicious if we’re both gone for too long. I’ll stay here and work undercover. Tell my sister and Jacob that I love them and that I’m sorry for deceiving them.” She smiles sadly at you.

“I will. Thank you.” You grip her shoulders and give her a small smile. She purses her lips and nods solemnly at you. You grab your wand and apparate away, to the apartment you woke up in. Tina, Newt, and Jacob all stare at you alarmed.

“Drop your wand!” Tina reacts first, pointing her wand at you.

“Wait! I realized...Grindelwald is my enemy.” You gulp, dropping your wand to the floor.

“And how do we know we can trust you?” Jacob asks, warily looking you up and down for other weapons.

“Newt…” You plead, meeting his eyes. He takes a step forward, cautiously. You walk the rest of the way, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips to his roughly. 

The moment your lips touch, everything comes rushing back to you like a flood. You remember it all. Everything you didn’t know before is suddenly crystal clear like a fog had been lifted.

Tears prick your eyes.

“You remember?” Newt breathes out as you pull away from the kiss, his eyes glossed from tears, too.

“I do.” You nod vigorously, a few tears falling down your cheeks. Newt pulls you in again and kisses you sweetly and passionately, all his fears melting away as you sigh into the kiss, leaning into him.

“I love you so much, (Y/n/n).” He rests his forehead against yours.

“I love you, too, Newt. I can’t wait to marry you.” You giggle, pressing a small kiss to his nose. He breaks out in a grin, taking your engagement ring out of his pocket and sliding it onto your finger again.

“My (Y/n/n) (Y/l/n).” He whispers, kissing your hand with the ring on it.

“Soon to be (Y/n/n) Scamander.” You remind him, intertwining your fingers. A small grin lights up his face.

“How did you get out?” Tina asks, still tense.

“Queenie helped me. She confirmed what Newt told me when I was dueling him. I remembered Grindelwald obliviating me when I went to sleep and she helped me escape when I woke up. She’s good now, and she’s sorry for deceiving you. She said she loves you both.” You explain shortly, giving Tina a smile. She smiles back.

“I knew she wouldn’t betray us like that.” Jacob nods, a proud smile on his face.

“We’re going to get her back, I swear. We will all be a happy family again.” You promise, looking to Newt with pure adoration on your face.

“I promise.” You whisper, squeezing his hand.

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

Tag List: @hufflepuffnewtismyjam @deanismymom @margot-black

[writersperpetualblock]

Braids for my faves

A/N; I loved loved loveeddd this request! I myself love to braid people's hair and had the luck to braid my crush's hair once or twice. So I tried to do my best to make this cute and fluffy. Also it has been sitting on my drafts forever because I had a hard time doing Denki and mostly Dabi. Hope you enjoy this late late late treasure.

Shinsou

"Ugh, I wish I could get some sleep."

"Not until night time dude."

Shinsou's head falls on my lap as he spreads across the floor. A heavy sigh leaves his lips.

"I don't get any sleep at night either, so what's the point."

"The point isss, that maybe if you stop taking mid-day naps you'll be able to rest at nights."

Another sigh from him makes me roll my eyes. I look down to my lap only to realize that Shinsou's hair was longer, and inadvertently my hands go to it. Since he was mostly facing away from me I couldn't exactly tell his expression, but he didn't seem to care.

"Do you mind if I braid it?"

"Hmm?"

"Your hair, can I braid it?"

He turns his face minimally, looking at me from the corner of his eye and frowns. Even though he looks unsure something tells me I could get him to give in. And rubbing circles into his scalp to urge a yes out of him he finally faces up at me fully.

"Pretty pretty please?"

"If it's gonna make you stop that crap then whatever, sure."

I smack his shoulder but keep smiling at him while fetching two hair ties from my bag. With his lot of hair it would probably be messy but it was a nice way to pass our time.

I make some small talk even though Shinsou hates it, but I take to ask about his training with his new sensei. Knowing how thrilled he was about it.

Shinsou lets out a content purr every time a finger goes through his soft knots. And by the time I'm done I realize he's been asleep for a while. Opportunity I take to snap pictures of the pigtail braids I did and looked unbelievably cute on him.

I was almost sad to wake him when it was time to head back to our dorms. He is quick to stand up, slightly stretching the sleep off and rubbing his face. Seemingly forgetting the braids.

"Is this the first time someone braids your hair?" I ask looking up at him, nearly closing my eyes to the setting sun behind him. His face makes no expression but he takes a hand to his hair, touching the braids.

"You ask as if I'd ever let anybody else toy with me like that." He smirks ever so slightly and leans down for a second, helping me get up.

"Well I'm glad it is, and I'm glad I did it." I offer him a closed lips smile and pick up my bag from the ground. When I straighten back up I find that Shinsou is way closer now.

"You're cute," he says stepping closer and his cheeks grow a little red. Making me smile and look him in the eye. "too sweet to me." And with that he presses a kiss to my mouth, recieving a most eager response. When he pulls away there's a smirk on his lips.

"That's what I want you to think of me." I tease and he chuckles, cheeks flushing a little.

"Yeah right, I'll see ya tomorrow." he says and turns around. I take that chance to bite my lip and smile hugely. Unknowing that he turned to look at me over his shoulder. "You can braid my hair whenever you want if it makes you so happy."

My face flushes and I give him a wide, flustered smile. Turning around and practically running back to my dorm.

Aizawa

Shouta was always stressed. But lately he seemed to be really on edge about every little thing.

"Why is your hair in a bun?"

"Why are you pestering me about it? You're not the one who deals with it every day."

I stare at him with a frown and blink repeatedly. He'd been really bitchy lately and I couldn't place why.

Suddenly he turns to me and sighs when he sees my expression. "Sorry, it's just been really hot and it keeps getting in my way and it's all tangled and stuff."

"Do you want me to braid it?"

"Braid it?"

"Yeah, it won't get in your way but it'll stay untangled too."

He looks at me with tired eyes and moves over to the couch. Plopping down in front of me and letting out a huff.

"That sounds great, please do."

I untie the bun and spread down his hair. Kindly running my fingers through it until I'm certain it is untangled. Aizawa's shuts his eyes but I can feel his breath agaisnt my legs, and I know he is not asleep.

Strand by strand my hands work their way through Shouta's lengthy hair. The result is a very pretty french braid.

After I'm done I make him run his fingers along it, but he doesn't stand up or anything. He was seemingly calm now, so I massaged his temples a little and ultimately went to his shoulders.

"Can you do this for me, like, everyday?"

I chuckle "Whenever you need it honey."

"So exhausted" my boyfriend sighs and I look up to see him enter my room shirtless.

"So stinkyy" I reply wrinkling my nose.

"Yeah, I was doing physical with Sero" I pop my eyebrows up at his choice of words and he huffs "Stop that, physical trainiing "

"Geehe"

He rolls his eyes before leaning over my form in the bed and pressing a kiss to my cheek. "I'd much rather get physical with you" he says matter of factly and I push him away, jokingly wrinkling my nose.

"Shower, noww"

"Wash my hairr" he pleas closing the distance again and pouting at me. "Pleasee!"

"Okayy okay go, I'll get my products"

Kaminari loved my tropical fruits products, because it reminded him of me he said. But I knew he just liked the smell and how soft his hair felt afterwards.

When I entered the bathroom his clothes were on the floor and he was already in the shower. So I undressed myself and stepped in, taking my hands to Kaminari's wet chest and avoiding to get my own hair wet.

His eyes opened after a few seconds and he turned around so that I could work on his hair. As I buried my hands on his scalp he let out sweet sounds of relief.

"You ought to get a haircut soon enough." I tell him "I could braid this thing, it's pretty long babe."

"Uuh that sounds good. Braid it!" the excitement in his voice reminds of that of a small child's and I chuckle. Rinsing conditioner off of his blonde head and pulling him out of the water. Allowing him to finish washing his body before wrapping a hand towel on his head.

Once we were both done and in towels in front of the mirror I fluff his hair up with the towel like a dog, making us both laugh. He bends down just enough for me to reach his hair comfortably and I dip my hand in a small container of coconut cream.

Kaminari breaths in the smell as I spread it through his hair and I chuckle, watching his face in the reflection. I tried to do a braid that would keep his hair in place but the harder I pulled the more Kaminari complained and moved. And when I was finished there were more stray hairs than there was a braid. But he seemed content with my work, proudly asking me to snap pictures so he could upload them on social media.

"You're being a bitch."

"Just take your damn nap"

"I can't nap without you!"

"That's not my problem sweets"

"You made me codependent! Deal with it!"

"Just get in the bed!!"

"FINE"

An hour or so later I wake up, finding that Dabi was still taking a nap. His face was buried slightly below my chest, so instinctively my hand went to his hair. He'd never let me play with it whenever he is awake so I'd take my victories where I could find them.

After a few minutes navigating through my phone Dabi was still sleeping. And soon enough I got bored. Putting the phone down I puff and massage his scalp. An idea popping into my head soon enough. I start making small, stray braids in his dark hair, just for the sake of entertaining myself.

He stirred for a second, but went back to sleeping soundly in my belly. Allowing me to reach the other side of his hair. I could swear he moaned a tiny little bit as I messed with his hair.

I kept at it until his head was full of soft little braids that fell on his face and popped out against the rest of his unkept hair. He would never forgive me for doing this.

"What are you doing to me?" Dabi mumbles suddenly and I hold back a giggle.

"Nothin' love, I'm glad you're awake."

"You did something didn't you?"

"Do not accuse of things Dabi!"

"Tsk, if it's makeup I swear I'm gonna burn all of your expensive, favorite products."

I give him more giggles and he pulls himself up with his arms, still groggy from sleep. Glancing to the mirror that I kept on my nightstand he didn't see anything alarming from this distance, and sighed.

"I'll find what you did y'know?"

"You won't mind it."

"Don't be so sure sweets"

"You liiiike me, it'll be fine."

Dabi furrowed a brow and layed his head on my chest now.

"I wouldn't rely on that if I were you."

@angsty-microwave

[solastia]

The Dragon’s Lair | 1

Pairing: Dragon Hybrid Namjoon x Reader (The others will show up one by one)

Word Count: 3,141

Genre & Warnings: Hybrid au. Fantasy themes. This will have a little bit of everything. Lots of fluff, some angst, perhaps eventual smut. Mentions of physical abuse and possible other trauma or emotional issues in the future. Brief mentions of death but no MCD. 

Notes: I’ve been ‘hoarding’ this in my drafts forever. It was literally only missing a paragraph. I’ve considered the idea of doing something for hybrids for a while, and I kept getting asked about it, so this is my attempt! I wanted to do something other than the ole’ cat and dog thing. Also, keep in mind that the plan for this fic to is write it in a way that I can keep adding to it for as long as I want to. I have no definite end in mind as of yet. I figured I’d release it to give you guys something to read while you wait for Faith. 

Some days you praised Kwon Soonyoung for being the best friend and overall human being on the planet. Other days, you cursed the day you became friends. Today felt like it was going to be the latter. 

“I really don’t know about this, Soonyoung. It just seems so wrong,” you grimaced as he pulled you along towards the grey-bricked and incredibly ridiculous building.

The Fairy Pawmother was one of the most popular businesses in town these days. And, in case the name didn’t give it away, was styled ostentatiously to look like a small castle. There were koi ponds instead of a moat and a cobbled walkway instead of a drawbridge, but it was painfully obvious the entire place with themed purposely. The two towers on either side of the building were actually a popular cafe and a Hybrid specialty shop that employed the adoptable hybrids themselves. 

“You’re thinking about it the wrong way, that’s all. I mean, sure. It would be nice if they all had their freedom and people stopped treating hybrids like lesser beings. The law is easing up on them little by little every year, so maybe someday there will be hope. Until then, there are all these hybrids without anyone to care about them. They are all alone, no one to care whether they live or die.” Soonyoung sighed dramatically and wiped a nonexistent tear from his dry eyes. 

“The guilt trip route? Ugh, fine,” you groan and follow him towards to entrance.

Soonyoung smiles gleefully, as he usually does when he convinces you to do what he wants. Which is quite often, sadly. 

“Come on. You won’t regret having a hybrid of your own. Since your Grandma died, I worry about you. She was all the real family you had left. I know you have me, and I consider myself your family too, but you could do with more. Just remind yourself you’re saving them from someone that won’t feel about hybrids the way that you do. You’ll treat them good, whereas they could have gone to a sex fiend or something.” 

“Who says sex fiend? Weirdo.” 

“Your weirdo,” Soonyoung drapes himself across your back, squeezing softly.

“Disgusting. Get off me,” you kick your foot back, hitting the giggling Soonyoung lightly, but you can’t hide your soft smile fast enough before he catches it. 

“This place is great too. They treat the hybrids well. They feed them properly, have good rooms and jobs if they want them. They even bring in teachers for homeschooling and stuff. It’s where I got Jihoonie.” 

“My point exactly. Jihoon is a little brat.” 

“A brat that you spoil as much as I do. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you suddenly have jugs of milk in your fridge when you hate milk. Or that you guys have movie marathons where he comes back so stuffed he doesn’t want to eat dinner. Or the fact that those headphones you claimed you won in a contest at work and gave to him were almost $3,000. And you forgot that I share your Amazon account.” 

“Having a nosy best friend is the worst,” you grumble, looking around the lobby of the Hybrid shelter. 

It looked bright and welcoming, with ivory painted walls covered in pictures of past adoptions and a lounge filled with plush crimson couches. There were several nice looking families waiting, presumably to pick up their new Hybrids, but Soonyoung pulled you away from there and towards the front counter. 

The man at the counter was stunning, with beautiful dark eyes and pouty lips. When you couldn’t see any evidence of him being a Hybrid himself, you were almost disappointed. His eyes glimmered with mischief as he caught you checking him out, his gaze piercing you in a way that made you wonder if he could hear your thoughts. You blushed and looked away, glad for Soonyoung’s interference as he excitedly greeted the man. 

“Heechul hyung! How are you?” 

“Better, now that you’ve brought me something pretty to look at. Jihoon’s class doesn’t get out for another hour if you’re here to get him.” 

“I know! I actually brought my friend Y/N here to look around. I think she’d give someone a great home,” Soonyoung pulls you forward, and you wave shyly. 

“Allow me to introduce myself, then. I am Kim Heechul, the Fairy Pawmother himself,” he catches your cringe and laughs. 

“I know, it’s a silly name. I wanted to just call it Heechul’s in sparkling lights, but my partner Leeteuk told me this isn’t a Casino so I couldn’t do that.” 

“It’s not a casino. It’s not a real castle either, but that didn’t stop you. So don’t blame me,” a yell comes from the office behind Heechul.

“Are you getting mad already, babe?” Heechul turns and smirks at the door. 

“I’m not mad!”

“You’re yelling.”

“Well, I’m mad now!” 

Heechul giggles and turns back to you, observing you from head to toe with a thoughtful look. 

“I don’t think a cat or dog will do for you.” 

“If you’re about to suggest a hamster, I’ve already got one,” you smirk and jerk your thumb to point at Soonyoung, who huffs. 

“That’s great! I totally see it.” Heechul laughs, slapping the counter a couple times. 

He slowly sobers before rounding the counter and gesturing to the two of you to follow him down a spacious hallway. 

“No, I mean something...a bit more challenging.” 

As you follow him down the hallway, you look through the enormous windows that stretch all the way across, revealing what appeared to be common rooms on either side. You observed the Hybrids, pleased to note that they all looked healthy and happy. There were multiple televisions and game consoles for them to use, toys for the younger ones, plenty of comfortable lounge chairs. The walls were lined with bookshelves, most of them packed full of all types of genres, some used for organizing board games. All in all, it didn’t appear to be the type of shelter that you’d heard horror stories about. 

“What do you do for a living, Y/N?” Heechul suddenly asks. 

“I’m a graphic designer. I work freelance taking on commissions for various companies.” 

“That’s good. That means you are at home a lot, right? Your hybrid will appreciate that. So you’re the artsy type?” 

“That’s one way of putting it,” you laugh softly. “It’s mostly making promotional stuff. Ads and things like that. Pays well enough. I still try to draw and paint what I want on my own time, but I don’t get paid for that.”

Heechul nods, continuing on silently, but with that same thoughtful look on his face. Maybe he was trying to think of the right hybrid for you? That would explain the questioning, anyway. 

“The halls for exotic breeds are right in here,” Heechul explains as he stops you in front of an elaborately carved door. “Normally, you’re only allowed to see the exotics if you’ve been thoroughly vetted. Most don’t even know they are here, because many of them are the only ones of their kind and we only want them to go to the right people. But I have a good feeling about you. Not to mention, any friend of Hamster's is a friend of mine.” 

“You’re never going to let that go, are you hyung?” Soonyoung sighs next to you.

“Not in a million years. Sorry, Hamster. Anyway, there is a class in session right now, and I thought we could sneak in there so you could look around. See if anyone catches your eye,” Heechul leads you to a room that had an open archway instead of a door. You could hear a deep voice rumbling above the rest, presumably the teacher as he was answering questions. 

Heechul leads you into the classroom, and the three of you sit in the very back of the class. The room was set up like a small college classroom, with one long table and four seats at each one. The room was bright and covered in educational posters, most of them cheesy. There were probably fifteen hybrids here, most of them with no characteristics to tell you what they were. 

When you finally glance at the podium, you feel like the breath has been knocked right out of you. The man standing there is so very tall, with a small waist and long, toned legs. His tan skin was practically glowing, his cheeks slightly flushed with excitement as he enthusiastically explained something to one of the hybrids. When he finished his explanation, he smiled, and you swear your heart stopped. His full lips alone could have caused that reaction, but the sweet grin was accompanied by two deep dimples on either side. You’d never understood the fascination with dimples, but you had to agree they added a touch of innocent appeal to his face, making the overall picture irresistible. 

As you looked closer at the man, you realized he was a hybrid too. His eyes glowed a sparkling golden shade that would be impossible otherwise. He was, unfortunately, wearing a beanie so you couldn’t tell if he had any ears or something under there. His nails were different too. Either he painted his nails, or they were naturally a shimmering blend of silver and gold. 

“Class dismissed! Don’t forget to do your reading, I’ll pop quiz someone at dinner,” the man smirked at the grumbling hybrids as he collected their things. 

You watched the hybrids file past, curious what made them “exotic.” You couldn’t really see much that struck you as something that different. Just the occasional odd eye color or hair that could be brushed off as coloring if one didn’t know better. The golden-eyed man stayed at the front, writing something into his big notebook. 

“Hi, I’m Yixing,” a handsome hybrid plopped into the seat next to you, smiling gently. He was so adorable you couldn’t help smiling back. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N. And this is my friend Soonyoung.” 

“Oh, we all know him. He’s old news,” he teases Soonyoung with a poke to his cheeks, and he tries to act offended, even if the effect is ruined by his giggle. The hybrid turns back to you. “Are you here to adopt?” 

“It seems so.” 

“That’s great! We exotics don’t get adopted out very often, but you look nice. I’m sure you’d take care of one of my friends very well.” 

“Not you?”

“Yixing here is already adopted. His owner had to go to some conference thing for Doctors, so Yixing was staying with us until he comes back. Which will be tomorrow. I bet you’re excited to see your Baekyun again, huh?” Heechul grins at Yixing, who starts babbling excitedly. 

“Yes! I hate when he goes on those trips. I miss him. At least I can come here and still take my classes and stuff, so I’m not lonely.” 

“That’s nice of you guys to do that,” you quirk an eyebrow at Heechul in surprise. “Usually once a hybrid is adopted out, the shelter wipes their hands of them. Or so I understood.” 

Heechul nods. “Most places, yeah, that’s probably true. But we let all the hybrids here know that they can always come back, no matter what. Even if it’s just for classes, or for respite care like Yixing here. This is a safe home for all.” 

At least you knew you’d be adopting from a decent place, even if the idea of ‘owning’ something that was whatever percent of human they were made you feel uncomfortable. 

“So, I don’t know if it’s rude of me to ask or not, but I can’t tell what kind of hybrid you are,” you ask hesitantly. 

Yixing’s eyes shine mischievously as he grins. 

“I see Heechul brought someone back here without telling them everything again. He did that to Baekhyun too. He loves to watch peoples faces as they discover the truth,” Yixing giggles as he and Heechul share a look. 

“I’m a Unicorn.” 

“Har Har,” you respond flatly. 

Yixing winked before closing his eyes. A glittering pastel glow appeared around his forehead, and slowly what appeared to be a horn grew out of his forehead. The color of the horn reminded you of the inside of an abalone shell, truly beautiful and shining brightly with a myriad of colors. You blinked a couple of times in disbelief. 

“And before you say anything, no, I’m not a Rhino,” Yixing laughed as he took in your befuddled stare.

“But...Unicorns aren’t real. They’re a myth,” you stammer, unable to take your gaze from the still shimmering horn that refuted that statement. 

“Myths had to come from somewhere, didn’t they? In fact, most of our exotics could be considered “myths,” Heechul countered softly. “Hybrids themselves shouldn’t exist, according to science. And yet, here I am with a building full of them.”

“Does it...what is...um,” you floundered, trying to search for the way to ask about him without seeming rude. 

“What does a Unicorn do? I have healing magic. I’m also able to emit a calm aura, which is probably why you’re not running out of here screaming about crazy people right now,” Yixing giggles.

You nod, unsure of how else to respond. It was a lot to take in. And you weren’t quite sure what to believe yet. 

“So you thought I should adopt a mythical hybrid?” you mumble to Heechul,  who merely nods and gestures towards the golden-eyed man who was still scribbling away at a desk. 

“Not just any. I wanted you to meet Namjoon. He’s been here for a long time because I was waiting for the right person to care for him. I have a gut feeling that you’re the one,” Heechul explains. 

“OH! Y/N would be perfect for Namjoon! I don’t know why I didn’t think of that myself!” Soonyoung squealed. 

“Wait, if you know all of them and aren’t surprised by all this, is Jihoon an exotic?” you ask with a frown. 

“Yup. He’s a Bakeneko. So, still technically a cat,” Soonyoung laughs. You make a mental note to remember to look that up later.

You couldn’t even imagine being the one to try to care for someone like Namjoon. Namjoon. You tried the name out in your mind a few times. It fit him. However, he was almost intimidatingly gorgeous and obviously smart, judging by the fact that he was in here teaching a class. What use would he have for you? 

“What is he?” You ask, almost terrified to hear the answer. 

“I’m a dragon,” a deep voice replied in front of you. You quickly meet Namjoon’s eyes as he grins reassuringly at you. 

“Hello. I saw that Yixing had his horn out in front of someone new so I thought I’d see what was going on. I’m Namjoon.” 

“Did you say a dragon?” you ask, unable to keep the shock and worry out of your voice. You realize your mistake when Namjoon’s face falls, and his easy-going grin was replaced with a polite smile. 

“Yes. Sorry.” 

“Oh, no. Don’t mind me. I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I’m just learning that you all exist is all,” your laugh is a little self-deprecating, but Namjoon seems relieved. 

“You’re very pretty.” Namjoon mumbles, a little blush growing on his cheeks as he studies you. 

“Thank you, Namjoon,” you're flattered that someone as beautiful as him would think so. 

“Are you here to pick someone up for adoption?” Namjoon asks as he pulls up a chair to the table and gets comfortable. 

“Uh, yeah,” you blush from the intensity of his stare, his golden eyes flickering as he observes you.

Heechul is grinning as he watches the two of you interact. 

“I brought her to meet you, dummy,” Heechul snorts. 

Namjoon’s eyes widen in shock. “Me? You want to adopt me?”

If you’d had any doubts before, they were gone now. The way that his voice wobbled and his eyes filled like it was unbelievable that someone would want to adopt him broke your heart. 

“If you’ll have me. I have a lot to learn, I think.” 

Namjoon’s smile was so wide and bright, and he reached over to pull you into a hug. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” he mumbled into your neck. You squeezed him gently back then turned to Heechul. 

“So what all do I have to do?”

“I can take care of all the boring paperwork myself. Why don’t you and Namjoon hang out for the day? Get to know each other. He can show you his room, so you have an idea how to decorate his. You probably have enough rooms in your Grandma’s house to even build him a studio.” 

You stared at Heechul in shock.

“I never told you I inherited my Grandma’s house.”

“Whoops,” Heechul smirked, not concerned to be caught out in the least. 

“You’re not quite an ordinary human either, are you? Are you a hybrid?” 

“I’d be offended to be called an ordinary anything, sweetheart. Come along, Hamster. Let’s leave them to get acquainted.” 

[kinetic-elaboration]

August 30: Sudden Accomplishment

I was very accomplished today, but at the cost of giving up any pretense of having a life, even a dorky and introverted life, outside of work and miscellaneous adult responsibilities.

I was so fucking tired in the morning...so tired that I’m not entirely sure I actually woke up, ever (my alarm woke me up in the middle of dreams, which is always disorienting and hard to recover from), and what I actually experienced as “being awake” was just a thin layer of caffeine applied to a nominally conscious body. Regardless, a combination of annoyance and, from around 10 on, the aforementioned caffeine sped me on to do a whole bunch of shit that I’d been putting off FORever.

The annoyance came from my desire to pay my rent, due on Friday so a semi-urgent task, which was complicated by the new management’s website. I had to set up an account but it wouldn’t accept my name. birthday, and email as correct. And it just put me over the edge to feel like I wasn’t getting these simple details right, like was I mistyping my own name??? (I was not.) And when I tried to call, no one picked up. Repeatedly. So I somehow translated this into “I’ll show you, landlords, I’ll do all this annoying stuff and I’ll be accomplished, even though you’re thwarting me in this simple task! How do you like THAT?” Which doesn’t make sense but sometimes you just gotta be in that mood in order to tackle certain things in the world, so I acknowledged and took advantage of it.

Unfortunately, ambition did not come with competence because I also made so many dumbass mistakes today that I felt like I would have been better off accomplishing nothing, just hiding under the covers all day so as not to be a burden to the world. For example, I confused the South Eastern Reporter for the Supreme Court Reporter, which is particularly embarrassing given that I actually have a JD and thus know that they are not even remotely the same thing, even though, in my defense, the advances are almost identical in terms of size/shape/appearance. Also I did this in front of my boss. Also when asked I did not have the latest advance, even though it had arrived that day, because I’d forgotten to check the mail on the law school side. To be fair, it wasn’t sorted when I came over initially but really I should have checked again after 15 minutes or so and I just forgot. (Too busy being accomplished!!!) Or, for another example, I asked the woman who puts together Law Review for the last three issues, even though there was only one more issue, and they published the exact same number of issues they’ve been publishing since the beginning of time. And 6 and 8 are not the same number. Still, I would not have needed to ask again had she responded to my first request like 3 weeks ago so there is that.

These mistakes are all embarrassing and make me question everything about myself and my perception of the world but the thing is that stuff DID get done. Awkwardly, but it did.

Work stuff accomplished included:

Helped a Law Review cite checker get the latest Supreme Court Reporter update. As said, this was way more complicated than it needed to be, but hey, he got it at the end of the day and as someone who’s done cite checks and who knows how important those advances can be, I did feel happy that I helped. (Also, I never explained my mistake to him so he thinks I’m super on the ball for getting it to him the next day, when he’d previously thought that was impossible, so there’s that.)

Got the library’s copies of the last Law Review, published at the beginning of the summer and kept all the way one floor below me, finally delivered to my freaking office, after asking twice. The thing is, I should probably just show up and be like “WHERE ARE THEY” periodically but the publication schedule is unpredictable and the journals are SUPPOSED to get brought up to me when they come out, without prompting, AND the specialty journals, of which there are four, always do. So the delay is mostly caused by LR forgetting about me + me being too shy to aggressively create awkward work situations over and over by asking for my fucking stuff. But whatever I got them for now.

Figured out the mystery of a Career Services withdrawal that has been plaguing me for at least a week. Is it one copy? Is it two? Is it two from two different years? The catalogue should tell you but all the data was corrupted when we transferred so who knows! Now it’s sorted out.

Finally sorted out the discards from the Faculty Support Center, which have been sitting on my shelf for so long they had basically blended into the landscape. I mean I’m surprised they hadn’t literally melded into the metal. I was told they were lowest priority so I treated them as such. But it’s so nice to get them away from me: two of them were sent to reference (one to replace a missing book, which I also dealt with) and two were withdrawn and free shelf-ed.

Drafted an email to a professor asking him to give us a third copy of the latest update to his book. I didn’t send it only because I’d been making so many dumbass mistakes I feared I’d left in a glaring typo or some other obvious awkwardness, but I can look at it with fresh eyes tomorrow and send it.

Started the cancellation sheet for a title that is no longer in print, apparently, since I got the email about it today.

Usual mail and UPS stuff, plus got the official OK from my supervisor re: my fall vacation plans and talked a bit about journal with my student helper.

Helped the director unpack an amp.

Organized the bindery stuff so I can work on it tomorrow.

Plus, though this isn’t a work accomplished, I finally--FINALLY--set up a freaking appointment to get new glasses, which I should have done months ago but I’ve just been putting it off for forever for no real discernible reason. It’s for tomorrow, which is somewhat sooner than I expected, but at least then it will be (mostly) over with. Leaving only the process of actually getting my new eyewear and then the unrelated but in-the-same-category process of seeing a dentist, which I’ve been putting off for even longer because I’m only semi-aware of where the office is and also I miss my old dentist and also I’m afraid of the state of my teeth, a problem that only compounds itself exponentially with time. BUT. Dumb adult problems for another day. I’m still proud of myself for the eye thing.

The I’m-a-real-adult-really fun didn’t stop after work. I picked up some milk and then when I got back to the apartments I stopped in at the office to get my account set up. Apparently literally everyone in the whole complex had the same issue I had because when you set up a new account, your information has to match their information, and I thought that info was just pulled from, I dunno, my lease or the air, but actually you have to have it entered manually and apparently in person. SO. Did that. Tomorrow I’ll set it up for real, hopefully painlessly, and pay my rent.

Then at home, instead of collapsing, I was responsible and washed dishes, made tomorrow’s lunch, took a shower. I was done at 6:15, spent some time browsing tumblr because it puts me into a nice lull, and then decided I was too useless to do anything but nap.

I ended up napping until quarter to 10. Over three hours.

So now I’m finishing dinner and then I guess I’ll go back to sleep. I have a very slight headache and I’m...not really tired, but I feel like my whole self has been dulled. Tomorrow is a very long day because my optometrist appointment is at 5. I will probably not get home until around 7. I hope my nap + a decent-ish night’s sleep will provide me with the necessary energy but somehow I’m not optimistic. I will probably have to drag myself through Friday by my fingernails. At least then it’s a three-day weekend, and after that, a month of me taking time off here and there, and hopefully getting more dumb things out of the way, and hopefully fall coming, and other nice things.

[savrenim]

Hi! I love your works! What got you into writing and theater? How and where did you start? Just very curious because you are so good! Thank you!

Vaguely long answer (extremely long way too long I’m so sorry I think this is the most I’ve talked about myself on tumblr in years) under the cut because I ramble a lot about my own life and these two things have been stupidly important in my life?

Writing!

So I was a very solitary kid because ew what was being outside, that’s boring, which meant I spent every single day from about fourth grade, when I was finally allowed do this, to eighth grade, during recess and lunch, in the library reading. (Same in high school, except we had different periods and breaks and by that time I was in enough AP classes that it was usually homework I was doing.) I read so much as a kid. Then there were also the classroom libraries that were just, like, two shelves of books that you could read during class if you were done with your exercises, those I’d read every single book on the shelf since, like, second grade, although each grade new classroom new shelf so new books, but by third or fourth grade I was on my third read-through of everything on that grade’s shelf and was so bored of books that I’d read already and decided then and there that if there were no new books for me to read, I was going to write my own book to read.

I don’t think the .docs exist anymore of this really shitty story that I started in third grade that I’m pretty sure were about three triplets who were princesses and the Chosen Ones and had all sorts of magical powers but it was a world where everyone had different types of powers but theirs were more powerful because they were Special with a Capitol S…I think one could manipulate all water, one could make force fields (which, of course, she could use to fly, you can do anything with forcefields if you try hard enough) and I forget what the other one could do, probably control energy/electricity? It was somewhere between 30 and 50 pages of Times New Roman, 12 pt font, double spaced. The Princesses had to run away from someone trying to assassinate them and take over the kingdom and train and learn to use their powers and the only thing I remember is that their powers kept getting more and more ridiculous as the story went on as I got more and more creative with applications of them (like the water one made a boat out of water and they escaped in the ocean sitting in this water boat as it propelled along like that scene from The Incredibles except the boat was all water instead of Mom and Dash), it was a mess but it was a beautiful mess and now it is gone forever probably because I think my mother’s computer has crashed and been replaced a couple times since then. RIP.

I’ve never really stopped writing, like. I wrote a shit-ton of fanfiction in high school because I found a show that I really liked the world background and felt like not enough of the characters were explored so I just hit the ground running, I think there’s, like, 550k or so of fanfic I wrote on an account that I have buried at the bottom of fanfiction.net and will never reveal to anyone ever. There’s a draft of a novel from high school too, this one, like, 95k, and I still have it. I may or may not have been re-working it as a part of a 7-novel biblical apocalypse in space idea that I had for a while, but that all got put on hold when I started it feels more like a memory. Um. Since high school, I did NaNo four or five times and have vague half-drafts sitting around from a bunch of those, too? Then there’s an immense amount that Wayfinder has played into my writing, which will be covered in the theater section, but I’ve probably written somewhere around 200k for Wayfinder, and then I’ve participated at this point in 102 Wayfinder games, I’ve kept a list, and those feel like living in a novel for anywhere from two to five hours and are just…all life-changing in terms of gaining perspective. But yeah, there are a dozen half-finished drafts of this and that that I’ve got on my computer that maybe one day will become something, maybe won’t, they keep me warm on a cloudy day type deal.

I remember when I first entered college four and a half years ago I was really proud because I’d passed the landmark of having written 1 million words of fiction so far in my life. I’m probably around a million and a half now? I stopped counting. But I was obsessed at the time with the 10,000 hours rule which when applied to writing was the 1 million words rule so I officially thought I maybe Wasn’t Crap™ after that.

But, yeah, writing has always been a huge part of my life, and a mostly private part of my life? It was just something I did in my free time for me and if I ever shared it, it was fanfiction, and in high school that meant it was anonymous in that it was under a pseudonym and disconnected from me as a person in every other aspect and thus very compartmentalized. Never something I had to worry about confrontation or being judged about. As a kid I always wanted to be a novelist, like, do science and math and then publish cool science fiction on the side. I still want to do that, write and publish and original novel. Although it’s less of a life goal and more, like, if it happens it happens. I was worried for so long about getting a manuscript accepted by an agent or editor but as I’ve gotten older and older I’ve started hating capitalism more and more and would want anything I write to be available for free online, and my friend @ink-splotch has been talking to me and giving me advice about what self-publishing is like, (also go read her books) (they are the best in the world and I’ve gotten a ridiculous amount of inspiration from just aaaah the writing style and the world mechanics and the casual folklore and treatment of side characters), but, like. Yeah. Maybe I’ll publish one day. I’m considering writing a sequel to it feels more like a memory and writing it as an original novel because the main things that the sequel deals with are the consequences of “what does a Seer mean in terms of modern physics” (as in our modern type modern, maybe even a bit in our future) and, of course, our favorite cast of characters still appears but it’s not terribly important that they be the specific historical characters and there’s a lot of issues surrounding “any story about these historical characters is a story that is intrinsically exalting slave owners” that at this point, like, if I’m writing a story that’s no longer set in the historical setting, why should I stick so solidly to the names of people that at this point have evolved very much beyond their historical counterparts and will probably eventually evolve past the direct musical interpretation too, when I could just change names and then have it be my own original fiction that could either stand on its own or be read as a direct sequel, and then it’s not connected to the atrocities that Hamilton characters are connected to, and also just I really do want to try my hand at original fiction again. So that might be on the horizon.

Um, writing. Yeah. I’m really only used to doing it for me. To be honest, it’s ridiculously weird to me the following that it feels more like a memory has gotten, and kind of uncomfortable at times? I mean, I wouldn’t change anything, I’m really grateful for the massive response and how much it’s mattered to various people, it’s not mine anymore, it’s a collective experience this attitude almost definitely also comes from my experiences at Wayfinder and mostly it’s just really weird to me how big of a part of my life this has become? Like, when I look back on 2016 and 2017 and maybe 2018 decades from now, they’re going to be the years when I was first doing math and physics research and publishing papers in scientific journals and applying to grad school and working on my cool shiny space thesis but also the years that I was writing it feels more like a memory, like, literally, there are pages and pages of handwritten scenes scrawled in my personal journals right next to mathematical calculations and notes and research and grad school lists. This fic has kind of really changed my life. It’s been a huge part of what I think about on a day-to-day basis, I’ve put an immense amount of time and energy and resources into it, I’ve learned so much about a bunch of subjects that were never relevant to my life before, I’ve made friends, I’ve started talking to people, also just, like, bouncing ideas around and going back and forth about the musical Hamilton and writing plans and writing techniques and James Madison has been one of the reasons I’ve gotten really close with a person that I consider to maybe be my best friend today. Even this blog has gone from “my Wayfinder friends and maybe a few campers follow me” to “holy shit a whole bunch of people that I don’t know, like, an entire order of magnitude more than the people that I do know, follow me now,” and it was just really…unexpected. I started writing it feels more like a memory for me. It was an experiment, it was just curiosity of trying to reproduce the sense of inevitability and growing doom caused by Aaron Burr’s dual role as narrator and character, it was never supposed to become…this.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m really grateful, I think it changed me for the better, and this isn’t me going “I wish everyone would unfollow me so I could go back to being a hermit,” I’m just kind of…still in shock. That it’s grown bigger than me. And that maybe if I keep doing this writing thing, life won’t go back to normal, this is the new normal.

Anyways that was probably way more deep and introspective than you asked for, let’s move on to

Theater!

My father is a tenured professor at UCLA in the math department, he got a joint math-physics PhD from Princeton, he taught me how to do algebra over the summers before I learned to read, you can see where I got my math genes from.

My mother, who is an accountant and a damn good one too so also does a shit-ton of math, was really really into musical theater before she settled down to do taxes, and did a bunch of theater and singing, like, she was a Madonna impersonator once and totally toured Japan with an Elvis impersonator giving shows, she and my father met at a singing competition that she won and I don’t think my father ever got over it, she and my dad are divorced now but the person she’s currently with and has been her ~soulmate~ for forever she met because they were in a production of Lancelot and he was playing Lancelot and she was playing Guinevere.

(It’s really funny because actually the woman that I’m in love with and that if I believed in soulmates would defs be my soulmate, it’s scary how in sync we always are it’s like we can legit read each other’s minds, literally, and we consistently call each other at exactly the same time not having planned it and finish each other’s sentences and have been on the same page about everything for as long as we’ve known each other and also literally dated the same dudes vaguely in reverse order before we went “wait what if screw guys, we were dating instead” and she maybe hopefully will become my fiancé when I’m in a stable enough position financially to ask, I also met her through theater camp after we kept being cast in roles in which we were romantically connected to one another until we went “what if we did this in real life too.” So I guess it too runs in the family.)

I was in choir from, like, first grade on all the way through high school, religious choir in 1st-8th and then “we perform cool arrangements” choir in high school. My father coached me in signing lessons so I could be in the school-wide talent show in first grade. I was a total ham, I loved the spotlight. I took piano lessons for a little while? So I can sight-read. But, like, the theater side of things, I was in every single musical I was allowed to be from 7th grade, where they first let you into the drama program, through the three years I was in high school before I technically dropped out of high school. I ran lights and soundboard for a bunch of events in college because wheeee work-study jobs, so I was in on the technical side of theater too for a bit.

The real theater thing that I’ve actually been really involved in and really active in has been a summer camp called “The Wayfinder Experience”. It’s…I call it “gay theater camp” a lot because it really is, like, the amount that it is a safe space for LGBT kids is ridiculous, I’m pretty sure there are more non-straight and non-cis people in the community than not, and Wayfinder is just…absolutely unique in what they do. I found them when I was 15, a counselor from AstroCamp that I was absolutely enamored with went “you should really come to Wayfinder, I think you’d love it,” and I did mostly because I was absolutely enamored with them, and it changed my life.

Wayfinder is technically a LARPing camp, I guess, but they’re so much more than that. What they do revolves around these “Adventure Games” that are run, but there’s a huge amount of improv workshops and community-building exercises and spending time in nature and ridiculous games like Blood Rush which the best I can describe it is “Vampire Murder Football” but everyone hangs out, gets to be silly, gets to play all these really cool different things during workshops, but then also there will be a writer for any given week of camp that has prepared a whole world with its own mythology and history and geopolitical landscape and religions and important conflicts, we range in genres from high fantasy to cyberpunk to apocalypse settings to Westerns to just…anything that anyone can imagine. And the gamewriter will, over the course of the week, lead workshops where they tell everyone about this world they wrote and cast people as characters in it and everyone will do character development workshops where they flesh out their own backstories and make connections to other characters and are led through exercises that is everything from “how does your character walk” to “what are slang words that your little friend group uses” to “what do you dream about at night”. And then for game, the Sets and Props department turns the entire campus into an area in the world that the gamewriter designed, and everyone gets a full costume designed for them from the costuming department and then just for, like, three to five hours, we all enter the world that we’ve been learning about all week and just…act. Improvise. Like, there’s “flow,” or quasi-planned events that staff members who are cast as characters that generally have some power to shake and move things (i.e. politicians, respected scientists, mad wizards, evil Lords of the Dead) will be told “okay about an hour after game starts if these things happen do this or move things in this direction,” but otherwise it is the campers who are kind of deciding the fate of the world by their actions and their choices that they make fully in character.

So yeah. It’s like living in a novel. And I’ve gotten to do it 102 times at this point, for the first summer as a camper and then pretty much immediately I got hired as a staff member. I’m every once in a while a Workshop staff, aka leading forty-to-sixty kids in theater games and improv games and run-around games outside etc etc, I’m usually costuming staff which means wheeee so much sewing and organizing from our pre-existing costuming, although I’ve done Sets and Props a fair amount of the time too. I also was involved in the founding of the Frontier Adventures, which is an off-season year round program that every other month on Saturday runs a full day event and all proceeds go to the Hero Fund where kids who can’t afford to go to camp can get to go for free and so I was doing, like, directing and hiring and renting the land and organizing the schedule and just running those events for the last two years. I retired for the 2016-2017 season to concentrate on applying to grad school.

And then, of course, I’ve done a lot of gamewriting for Wayfinder. I’ve written and run four pretty serious games that I’m stupidly proud of—The Old Land, Octagon House, Requiem, and The Wishing Well. Writing a game is like nothing else in the world. It’s kind of like writing a novel, it’s certainly as much work as writing a novel, except you get to watch your novel come to life. You have to know your world inside and out—in the world background workshops, you’re going to have fifty kids throwing questions at you that are anywhere from “how’s the gay thing going” to “so you know your werewolf world has seven different moons for the seven different tribes of werewolves, and the sixth moon has an irregular orbit, first of all I’m assuming this is a rocky planet because it holds life so it can be at most four times the size/density of Earth but then also all of these moons are large enough such that their gravity makes them spherical, what does that do to the tides? As well as are tidal forces strong enough to affect volcano patterns on this planet, like it does on Jupiter’s moon Io? Also how in the world does the sixth moon have an irregular orbit, was it created more recently than the others or tugged into the gravitational well of the planet within the last few millennia, or—“ to, you know, more answerable questions like “how does [this part of the mythology] affect [this geopolitical issue].”

But it also just—it makes storytelling such a collaborative process. You write something, you dream up a whole world and the unique incredible people who live in it and the thousands of stories that make up their lives and the bursting potential of where a story can go, and then you hand it over, you give it to a community that you know and you trust and you’ve just met, you gift each of your characters to someone new, and then you watch as their bring your world to life. Your story isn’t your story. It’s the story of everyone who has experienced everything along with you. And it’s so incredible to be on the other end of it too, to be gifted a character and given the fate of the entire universe that rests on the decisions that you and your friends make in the moment. You live and you die and you laugh and you sacrifice everything and you find bravery within yourself that you never had before, and when you come out of it, you’ve…you’ve got fifty or sixty new best friends that maybe you haven’t known them in the real world for so long but you’ve bled (not usually real blood, we’re a summer camp for kids, after all) and sweat and cried and changed the world next to them, over and over, and it forms bonds of trust and a community in the real world unlike anything else.

So, yeah. Wayfinder has been a huge part of my life and my worldview and my experiences for the last…six years now? They’re my community, they’re my best friends, it was where I turned when I was scared and hurting and didn’t know where I was or how I was ever going to get through life and it was just…everything. And it sort of still is. So yeah. Gay theater camp. It’s the best.

I learned about Hamilton through Wayfinder, actually. I was Patient 2, but, like, I learned about it one day after Patient 0 learned off of an add on Amazon.com, Patient 0 showed it to Patient 1 who the next day when I was driving him and two other staff members to the cleanup for a Frontier showed it to me and then I infected, like, 100 campers within the next two months so I feel like I really deserve the title Patient 0 but technically I’m Patient 2.

I kind of really miss doing musical theater, like, theater on a stage type deal for an audience, I’m just way too busy now with math and physics things to consider that. But, yeah, theater, it’s great, it was a huge part of my childhood and then gay theater camp was the biggest influence on me during my formative years.

Hope that answers your questions!

[janicefosse]

Writing Lives: Mica Scotti Kole

I attended the Chicago Writers Conference in 2015. It was my first conference ever, and I was both excited and terrified. Not being a particularly social person, the idea of spending three days mingling with and talking to total strangers with no familiar friends or my husband to hide behind was almost enough to prevent me from attending the conference.  But I was determined to enter the writing world, and so I stepped boldly into an unfamiliar bar in downtown Chicago on Friday night for the first mixer of the conference.

Throwing caution to the wind (and ignoring the gurgles of terror in my stomach), I walked up to the first friendly face I saw and said hello. That face belonged to the fantastic Mica Scotti Kole, and I am so glad that I was able to overcome my fears and meet such a fantastic person.

If you don’t know Mica, you’re missing not only a super cool person and a talented writer, but also an invaluable resource for other writers. She is the face behind Free Writing Events, aka @Writevent on Twitter, the clearinghouse for all free writing events on the Internet. Her website has not only the same calendar of free writing events, but also a plethora of other writing resources, from agent lists to conference recaps, writing advice, and more.

She is also the founder of Beta Frank, the “super-affordable editing service where the author sets the price and duration of the services – not the editor.” I had her go over my manuscript before I began querying and now I have an agent. Her invaluable insights and in-depth notes were instrumental in getting my book into its best possible shape, and I would recommend her to anyone looking for a high quality editor (she should really be charging at least triple what she charges – just saying). I decided to kick off my interview series with a writer, editor, and person that I admire and I’m proud to call friend. So, without any further ado, here is my interview with Mica.

The fabulous Mica Scotti Kole!

JF: Tell us how you got started in writing - what inspired you early on, what inspires you today, etc.

MK: When I was little, I used to play with Duplos - like giant Legos with animals - and write stories about the animals' adventures. I just unearthed one of these "books" recently while unpacking for a new house. The animals in my "Miracle Zoo" made hover-cars out of coconut juice. I'm pretty sure I was doomed to write fantasy from the very beginning.

JF: How did you become the queen of writing events?

MK: Aw, thanks! Well, when I first started Twitter, I discovered hashtag games like #1linewed and events like #PitMad, which were fun writing challenges and incredible networking opportunities that I had never heard of before... meaning that piles of other writers had never heard of them, either. I saw a need, and I started filling it, and the response was so stellar that I just kept going, widening my promotions to any events that were free and useful for writers. I'm highly organizational, so the resulting @writevent turned out to be pretty cool.

JF: Name one book that has influenced you in life, as a writer, etc.

MK: I always say The Golden Compass. I remember walking into a giant library, having no idea what to do, and asking a librarian. She gave me that book of the thousands available, and I was sold on fantasy forever... the accompanying His Dark Materials trilogy has it all: diversity, religious questioning, talking animals, multiple dimensions, death, and irreconcilable heartbreak. The Golden Compass taught me that an imaginary world doesn't need to be contained. It can be as big as you want it to be. I dislike writing contemporary to this day!

JF: What is your daily writing routine like? Do you have any particular rituals, must-haves, etc?

MK: I'm one of those one-track-mind people. I'll kick out 20,000 words in a few days, then veer off into another project and forget to write for a week. But my daily ritual involves cereal, loose-leaf black tea, and consuming some type of media: books, anime, or often the Daily Show with Trevor Noah. It takes me an hour at least to get through this ritual because that's how long it takes me to finish my tea (yes, it gets cold). Then I open my laptop, pull up Word, and dive in.

JF: How much research do you do for a writing project?

MK: None during the first draft, except when naming characters or the occasional "What type of feather is at the tip of the wing?" question. I do most of my research in revisions, with a special eye for the diversity-related research. But I do have an aversion to general research due to a decade of writing all A+ papers in every English class ever. I think some part of me believes I've paid my dues. That is not a good thing, lol.

JF: Are you a planner, a pantser, or a plantster?

MK: Depends on the project, but I think that inevitably we all become plantsters in the end - a hybrid. I'll either outline a book and end up down a rabbit hole, or I'll run down a rabbit hole and end up plotting my way out. I leaned primarily toward plotting early on, though, and I do recommend that. Plotting gives you a feel for pacing and structure that pantsing doesn't. You can learn a great deal about writing from plotting, but pantsing mostly just teaches you how to revise!

JF: You’ve written characters from underrepresented groups - please elaborate on the importance of that and what challenges you’ve faced writing these characters.

MK: I could say SO MUCH about this, but will try to limit myself. To start: writing diverse characters terrifies me. So many authors, either white/cis/nonreligious like myself or themselves diverse, have faced incredible vitriol for trying to write diverse characters. The fear that trying to elevate other voices might actually ruin my career - and even my life - is real. The fact is that mistakes will be made if one writes diversity, and writers will be hated for writing diversity no matter what they do. You can't please everyone, and you can only do your best. That said, one's "best" must involve sensitivity readers, research, and humility. Frankly I have said and done insensitive things without any idea I was doing it - and to learn my own failings and misconceptions, and have to apologize, is both painful and important. In addition, #ownvoices books must be elevated above non-#ownvoices books. I cannot possibly write about a transgender woman the way a transgender woman can write about herself, and I need to recognize that. All that said, despite the hate campaigns and the social justice warriors/bullies and all the other risks, if white/cis writers don't at least try for the most basic of inclusion, then our literature will be whitewashed. And white is the most boring color.

JF: What would you suggest as an essential bit of reading for aspiring writers?

MK: The Alchemist by Paolo Coelho will inspire you to chase what matters. This is my favorite book, and no, it's not a book that tells you how to write. For better or worse, I don't believe those kinds of books have ever helped me personally. Although if you're fresh to the writing scene, Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott is a must-read, and absolutely hilarious to boot. She'll warn you about all those things you need warnings for...

JF: What is the most useful writing advice you’ve ever received? The most destructive?

MK: Useful? To structure according to the Hero's Journey (or the 3-Act Structure, whatever works). This is such a game-changer and has helped me write better first drafts and get a keener eye for story... although, as I said, over time plotting may become more instinctive. And the most destructive advice, for me, was specific advice from an agent on how to redo my opening. The advice itself wasn't bad, but taking her word as gospel caused my opening to founder for ages. To that end, I'd advise second opinions if a change doesn't sound like it would work for you... remember, you know your book better than anyone else! But do pay attention if the second opinion matches up!

JF: The publishing world is a strange one right now - what do you see for the future of publishing in your genre?

MK: I see more diversity. They're afraid, now, to take these books on... but those that have succeeded, have done so very well. And as much as people love the same old tropes, a blurb about a police shooting or a Muslim teen catches the eye and sets the book apart more than "oh look, another clumsy female protagonist in a love triangle." Publishers want a hook, and that's the key: do you have a hook? I also see a shift toward YA over adult books in most genres. Virtual Reality storytelling isn't too far off, either.

JF: What do you suck at?

MK: Humor. At least, putting humor into things. I lean toward dark stories, and I need to work on the comic relief. I also struggle with getting the reader to connect to the main character early on. I work much harder on voice than I used to, and it still seems like it isn't working - but I have improved, and will continue to do so. Like Lisa Scottoline said about writing, "You never hit your stride."

Check out Mica on Twitter: @MicaScottiKole

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Mica Scotti Kole’s website: Micascottikole.com

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