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troped-fanfic-challenge · 4 years ago

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JATP ROUND THREE FICS!

We received fourteen (14!!!!) fics for Round Three of the JATP Event! These fics are full of that sweet, sweet canonverse goodness that we can’t get enough of, but with our signature TROPED twist! We loved to see you all challenge yourselves with the theme, tropes, and pairings!

Please try to read as many fics as you can! Take some notes, leave some kudos/comments for the authors, and help us vote on the winners!

Voting will be open until May 29th at 11:59pm EST! Vote here:

https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/BZ3W5FT

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Just say you won't let go (Rated G) [Julie/Luke]

Summary: Hey, Julie

You're the heart and soul 'round here, it's plain to see

in which Julie has a second chance with her boys, and then another

we will fight to shine together (bright forever) (Rated G) [Bright Lighting Guy/Rob from the Orpheum]

Summary: “Hey,” Chris says, walking up to the boy. “What are you doing?”

“Oh,” he puts the dandelions down and stands up. “Hi. I’m trying to make a flower crown, but I don’t remember how.”

“Cool. I’m Chris, I live--” he points to his house. “Over there.”

The boy gives him a lopsided smile. “I’m Rob. I’m staying with my grandparents for the summer.”

or: the rob/bright lighting guy fic literally nobody asked for but i wrote anyways. enjoy gays, bring ur tissues

what happened when (Rated G) [Alex/Luke]

Summary: Before Julie and the Phantoms, before the guys became ghosts, before Sunset Curve -- they were Luke and Alex. Not 5 feet apart cause they're totally gay.

who cares if one more light goes out? (in a sky of a million stars) (Rated T) [Ray/Rose]

Summary: Rose moves in across the street when he’s eight and she is seven. Their parents push for them to play together, because that’s what parents do. They’re not wrong about it though. The two of them get on like a house on fire and some of his happiest memories from his childhood are just him and Rose, sitting in the large oak tree behind their houses. Hidden up in the branches, between the millions of dark green leaves, they played together.

or: The first and the last time Ray ever kissed Rose.

we can forget the world (just you and me) (Rated T) [Alex/Willie]

Summary: “This was the first place I ever came out to someone,” Alex says, spinning around and taking in the tree house.

together we can take on the world (Rated G) [Alex/Reggie]

Summary: Alex Mercer meets Reggie Peters on October 8, 1983, which means that two days have passed since Reggie's sixth birthday, because Reggie is a Libra according to the magazines that his mom reads when she gets Reggie to paint her toenails. He’s also just moved to Los Angeles, California from his hometown of Gatlinburg, Tennessee, a small town in the mountains, and he’s told Alex Mercer about all of this in the three minutes that they’ve known each other, and he might be the loudest, most obnoxious boy that Alex has ever met, and he absolutely has to be Alex’s new best friend.

The Peters family moves in down the street from the Mercers in 1983, and so begins the rest of their lives.

Long Live (Can I start another life with you?) (Rated T) [Julie/Luke]

Summary: It's all too much for one day: first a muffin, then more heartbeats. Julie just needs some time to think. If Luke runs after her to sit by her side so she doesn't lose it, she won't complain.

Except afterwards, he starts acting weird. Very weird. And months later, she's tired of letting him keep his distance.

She can’t do this. Not right now. Not today.

She jumps back on her feet.

The excited grin falls from Luke’s face. She doesn’t try to catch it.

“I – I think this is too much. I need some time. Alone. Sorry.”

Then she runs. She runs past the calloused fingers reaching out to her. Past Reggie and the door, past carved pumpkins on porches and Cornelia Street.

She just runs.

Roses (Rated G) [Emily & Luke, Alex/Luke]

Summary: It becomes a sacred place she shares with her son. Mitch is usually off at work from dawn until six o’clock, but Emily’s working from home for now. She works as a florist’s shop right outside the neighborhood. So she brings home seeds and little flowers and other cuts from the store; she and Luke will spend hours out in the dirt, planting seeds and making mud pies and Luke will babble about whatever happened in daycare and make up stories about the different flowers.

Somewhere Only We Know (Rated T) [Nick/Carrie]

Summary: Nick Danforth-Evans met Julie Molina when he was six years old. He had no idea how much an impact that afternoon would have on his life.

___

A journey through Nick Danforth-Evan's life as experienced in the safety of his backyard hide away.

The Itty Bitty Details (Rated T) [Alex/Willie]

Summary: “Did I forget to mention William, I also get your soul,”

Willie could feel a stinging feeling and a purple stamp appeared on his hand. When the stamp appeared he could no longer remember who Alex was. The name meant nothing to Willie now.

Or 5 times Willie knew Alex and one where Alex knew Willie

you're the only one who makes me (my wildflower) (Rated T) [Bobby/Reggie]

Summary: The tree was Reggie's safe space, and Bobby was his safe person. He could escape all his troubles there, except for one nagging thought - did he have feelings for his best friend?

Dying complicated things.

because i've known you so long, i know every cadence and what they mean (Rated G) [Alex & Julie, Julie/Luke]

Summary: Alex and Julie have always lived right next to each other. Through highs and lows, they grow up together. Also, 5 times Luke kisses Julie and it doesn't count plus 1 time Julie kisses Luke and it does count.

Alternatively, the Juke 5+1 fic from Alex's POV. Strap in, folks.

Someday (I'll See You Again) (Rated T) [Alex/Willie]

Summary: They’re wrong. Alex, you are not a failure. You’re incredible. You’re smart. You’re funny, and the best friend I could ask for. You’re a wicked talented drummer and you have a beautiful voice. And more important than all of that, is that you’re you, Alex. And the you you are is wonderful, and lovable and perfect. If your parents can’t see that, that’s their own fault. But I swear, Alex. If you’re afraid of them, I need you to tell me. You have to be safe.” Willie’s voice had gone desperate by the end. Alex deserved to know how freaking amazing he was and the fact that his parents didn’t bother to tell him, and actively worked to tear him down instead, was infuriating.

But Willie also worried about him. He’d worried about Alex since the first time he heard Mr. Mercer shouting through the window, a worry that never really went away. Not with the way Alex automatically straightened up when his parents were mentioned, as if he could hear his dad lecturing him about appearances from miles away. Not with the way Alex looked when he was with them, perfectly pieced together and falling apart at the seams, eyes distant and shoulders tense. Willie was pretty sure he had worrying about Alex etched in his bones by this point.

The Energy Never Dies (Rated T) [Gen Fic]

Summary: Well, I ain't always right, but I've never been wrong

Seldom turns out the way it does in a song

Once in a while, you get shown the light

In the strangest of places if you look at it right

--- Scarlet Begonias, Grateful Dead

Four moments across time in the loft of the Molina's garage.

#troped: jatp #round 3: canonverse #jatp fanfiction #round 3 submissions #round 3 voting #troped: voting

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago

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93. I hire your matchmaking services but all the people you set me up with are horrible and I’m demanding a refund and you’re asking me for one more chance??? what are you going to do? be my date?

Indruck, nsfw, please!

Here you go! I was inspired by @kriskukko's incredible art for the orc designs in this, and I highly recommend checking them out!

“Indrid? Some from Kepler House is here to speak with you.” Ned pokes his head into Indrid’s rooms.

“Drat” Indrid hisses, dressing gown whipping about him as he scrambles to put the apartment in order while also dragging his notes on the man in question to the forefront, “I didn’t forsee anyone coming by today, goodness, he had his first engagement with Lady Austens daughter last night, what on earth could they need to see me for?” He tosses his spare pens aside, landing them in his second set of house slippers.

“Well, dear boy, given the luck you’ve had with them lately-”

“It’s not luck, it’s simply very unlikely futures. Please just, just stall whoever it is a moment, Leo is usually patient and-”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that my friend.”

“Why not? I watched you once talk an entire flock of constables away from your door. Praytell, why can Ned “Silver Tongue” Chicane not get rid of a single attendant?”

“Because the attendant ain’t here this time.”

Indrid slams the drawer of his desk, looking up as an orc in a deep brown suit steps into the room, tossing his hat onto the table. He’s shorter than Indrid and Ned (stout and strong, according to the notes Indrid received), wavy black hair streaked with grey at the front. One eye is blue, the other brown, and both regard the harried matchmaker with casual annoyance.

“Mr. Newton, I, ah, I was not expecting you to visit me.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be on a date where she found me so damn dull she hailed a cab as soon as dinner was done. I was already in town on some business for Minerva, so I decided to come tell you I ain’t in need of your services anymore.”

“I beg your pardon? Your benefactor employed me to find you a suitable match and I intend to do just that. I know there have been missteps, but such things are to be expected when searching for one’s lifelong partner.”

“Uh huh. And the fact I’m Lady Minerva’s chosen heir, which means there are a bunch of folks waitin to mimic my style and choices, has got nothin to do with it.”

“I, ah, I can’t say that I’m ignorant of the potential repercussions of being the one assigned to locate a spouse for you.”

“Which is the long way of sayin you know damn well that if I decide to stop askin you for help, no one with money is ever gonna come to you again.”

There’s a determined set to his rounded jaw, and a glimpse at the future suggests Indrid will have better luck with a different tactic

“....were they really so awful?”

“Yes. They were rude, or thought I was rude, or thought I was dull, or we just had fuck-all in common.”

“Have you considered you might just be a tad more demanding than average?”

“It ain’t demandin to want the person I spend the rest of my life with to actually like me.” He sighs, “I’m sorry, Mr. Cold, but unless you got a real winner up your sleeve, I’m done.”

All responses, all timelines show Duck ending his time as Indrid’s client and walking out the door.

“You could try me!”

“Really?” Duck looks deeply unconvinced.

“I will admit it’s unorthodox, but I, I foresee us having a perfectly nice time together. It will let me prove that I am capable of choosing companions for you.”

The shorter orc looks him up and down more deliberately and Indrid fights not to draw his dressing gown tighter. He will not be intimidated by some newcomer from across the sea.

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I got to go to this concert tomorrow; someone from Kepler house is expected to show and Minerva is busy. You’re comin with me.” He holds Indrid’s gaze, daring him to renege on his offer.

Indrid summons his best, professional grin, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

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

Indrid smooths his waistcoat and jacket as he steps from the cab, tucks a strand of his silver hair behind his ear. It’s his only concession to the nerves skittering up and down his spine.

Gatherings such as these are nothing new to him; he goes to them to gather new information and new clients, to remind the well-to-do families of London and beyond that he is the matchmaker extraordinaire. But there is always the moment between when they see him and when they recognize him, when every face in the room wonders why someone like him dares to enter their space.

Somewhere in Indrid’s ancestry is a love story between an orc and a goblin. His silver hair, very angular features, and complete lack of tusks or fangs is the proof. The red eyes don’t help--they unsettle everyone who sees them--but his mother insists they’re evidence of other orcs gifted with rare magic on her side of the family. He wears red spectacles over them just to be safe; he rather likes how the color stands out against his skin, and his glasses let him avoid prying questions.

Duck is waiting for him under the awning outside the music hall; he’s in a grey day suit this time, looking just as understatedly handsome as he did yesterday morning. Indrid must admit his desire to save his reputation is not the only reason he agreed to this; he cannot understand why Duck is having such trouble meeting his match. He’s good looking, moneyed, American--an exotic background in the eyes of the average, sheltered upper-class orc--but still has family history here in England. All Indrid’s matches showed a high probability of success. The point of failure must lie with the orc himself.

“Afternoon, Mr. Cold.” Duck smiles with everything but his eyes.

“Indrid is fine, given the reason for our meeting.”

Duck nods. Indrid wishes the ground would swallow one of them up. When the pavement fails to oblige, he offers his arm. The shorter orc takes it, both of them doffing their hats as they step inside.

“I, uh, like the earring.” Duck indicates the moth cuff on Indrid’s left ear, a stark contrast to the single gold hoop in his own.

“Thank you. A friend gave it to me. I, ah, I rather enjoy working moths into my wardrobe; I find them fascinating.”

“Y’know, back home we got moths that look like hummingbirds.”

“Really?” Indrid’s ear twitches, “how big?”

Duck holds up his hands to indicate the size. Indrid is about to demand details when they’re waylaid by their hostess and pulled into a cluster of families. Indrid breathes deep, feeling crowded in, and notices Duck routinely being cut off in conversation or given disapproving looks behind his back. Yes, Indrid supposes his manners are a bit rough, but there’s no harm in that. Too, everyone seems far more interested in the goings on at Kepler House and with Lady Minerva than with Duck himself. By the time they’re seated, their arms feel locked together from shared tension.

The violinists are quite good; Indrid enjoys strings, his recordings of them being his favorite music to listen to while drawing. But his mind is so consumed by futures and by thoughts about the orc beside him that he struggles to focus on the music. Duck is having a similar issue, though he hides it well; were they not side by side, Indrid would miss the way he fidgets with the knee of his trousers.

“Are you alright?” He whispers under the applause.

“N-ye-uh. Fuck. I, the musics real nice but I gotta say I’m gettin kinda bored. But I got no fuckin clue if leavin will piss everyone here off.”

“Intermission is soon. When it comes, keep quiet and follow my lead.”

When the guests rise to stretch their legs and fetch refreshments, Indrid guides Duck to their hostess.

“I’m so very sorry, but I’m afraid my stomach is rather angry with me and it’s best if I go home. Duck has agreed to accompany me so I do not pass out in the street. I’m sure you understand.”

She nods, and in a matter of moments they’re out on the street, each breathing deeply.

“Thanks for that.”

“My pleasure.”

“Guess I oughta just head back to the hotel.” Duck sighs.

“You could. But, ah, we’re not far from Kew Gardens and the weather isn’t miserably cold for once. If you’d like-”

“Hell yeah. Wait, fuck, sorry, tryin to swear less in public.”

“I don’t really mind.” Indrid starts them down the street.

“Lots of them do” Duck tips his head back towards the concert hall, “I mean, at least that rule is easier to figure out. It’s not that there aren’t weird rules and class stuff back home, but I grew up learnin them. Here I always feel like I’m one move away from makin an ass of myself. No one’ll say anything because of Minerva, but I know if it weren’t for her, none of ‘em would give me the time of day. It makes every interaction so goddamn stressful.”

Indrid twinges with sympathy, “When I first started in these circles, I wrote myself notecards and had Ned test me on them.”

Duck giggles, so absurd and loud it draws stares from passersby, “why? You seem to know your stuff.”

“I didn’t come from money, and I don’t always read social situations the way others expect. It was learn or live as a penniless artist for all my days.” As the gardens come into view he adds, “I know the basics of your life in America but if you weren’t here, what would you be doing there?”

“Workin in the Yosemite valley. I was a ranger there for a few years before Minerva called me here.”

“What was that like?”

Duck tells him as they wander the first stretches of the gardens. He’s midway through a tangent about bears when he stops.

“Holy fuck, you’re really still listenin.”

“Of course I am, this is fascinating.”

His companion smiles, “Glad you think so. But it ain’t polite for me to dominate the conversation like this. Now you gotta tell me what you do when you’re not gettin fancy folks together.”

“...You promise you will finish the story about the bear and the tent later.”

“You know it.”

Indrid knows that time passes more quickly with good company, but he’s still startled when the sun sets. The Savoy, where Duck is staying, is closer than his home, so their cab stops there first.

Duck pauses halfway out the door, “Meet me here for dinner tomorrow?”

Indrid grins, “I’d like nothing more.”

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

“I didn’t know the line even went this far.” Indrid watches the moors race by them out the window of the train.

“You and me both.” Duck rotates his map, glances at the letter he received a week ago, “okay, once we get off at Amnesty, we need someone to take us down Greenbank road. The house is at the end of it, somewhere around here.” He taps a patch of moor miles from anything else. Indrid studies his fingers and is glad that, of his more rugged habits, one he elected to keep was letting his nails stay claws rather than filing them down.

“My visions suggest that as long as we don’t ask anyone to drive us out after dark, we should have no trouble reaching it.”

Indrid tries not to be too giddy at the prospect of spending weeks and weeks more or less alone in the countryside with Duck. They’re going because an anonymous note informed him that he did indeed have a family estate and--once they determined that the house near Dartmoor did indeed legally belong to him--it was decided he would go to see how the old place was doing and perhaps take up residence.

He asked Indrid to come without even glancing up from the telegram from the solicitor. Indrid agreed without looking away from his drawing. If two months of semi-courtship in a crowded city got them close enough for that, Indrid dares to hope that being out here together will bring them closer still.

Amnesty is small, as they both expected, the air chilly and fog threatening to swallow whole buildings as they make their way to the Lodge where they’ve been told they can find a driver. When Duck asks the young woman working the counter for help getting to Greenbank Hall, she quirks her lips in a frown.

“I’m not sure there’s even a place called that around here….OH! Do you mean Beacon House?”

“Maybe?” Duck looks at Indrid, who quickly looks at the futures.

“Yes, it seems we do.”

“Okay. Since it's still light, I should be able to find someone to get you out there. If it comes down to it, I can, like, drive you out myself.”

They end up being driven by a friendly young man named Jake, who deposits them and their bags on the steps of the massive house with a friendly wave farewell.

“Agh” Indrid shivers as they step through the newly unlocked doors, “I think it’s actually warmer outside.”

“No kiddin. Damn fog means it’s already gettin too dark to see too. I’ll go get some kind of fire started, you see if you can find some lanterns or candles so we ain’t trippin all over ourselves.”

Indrid begins his search, comes to the kitchen and finds some matches and a candle. The solicitor arranged for food and other supplies to be brought in ahead of time, so in theory lanterns should be somewhere nearby. He’s just glad that the paltry light shows no signs of rodents getting into their food.

When he gets upstairs, he discovers two things; one, all the lamps are gas, so he’s able to light them easily. And two, a mother tortoiseshell cat is nesting with her kittens on a guest bed.

“Well, that explains the lack of mice.”

Footsteps behind him, “Got a fire goin in the sittin room, if you wanna pick a room for yourself I can light one th--awwwww” Duck moves past him towards the cat, who hisses at him, “now, there ain’t any need for that, missy. I ain’t gonna hurt you or your babies. But we oughta bring you somethin more’n mice to eat.”

“I saw some tinned food in the pantry.”

“Perfect, lemme go find a bowl.”

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

Beacon House has seen better days, but Indrid discovers the houses loss is his gain. Duck decides they can do many of the repairs themselves, and sets about ordering supplies from London or bringing them in from Amnesty. The few times they need help, the cook and several others from the Lodge come to assist in the project. These gatherings are far more pleasant than any Indrid had to attend for work (well, except for the ones where he was with Duck). And they always end before dusk.

Indrid occupies himself with figuring out why. There was no mention of this house when he first researched Duck, and even using the local name turns up very little. It’s not until he finds a diary belonging to one H. Newton in the library that he understands.

October the 15th, 1805

I fear the worst is upon me. I cannot leave the house, dare not even peer out the windows for fear of what I shall see. Lucy says it is my health, that we should travel to warmer regions so it will improve. But I know it is not so simple. Were we to flee, it would merely wait for our return. It may even waylay us before we reached town. I am cursed. We are cursed. We always will be.

Beneath the words is a hastily sketched image; yellow eyes and sharp fangs peering from between the bars of the front gate.

There are no more entries.

Indrid is unsure whether to raise the matter with Duck. On the one hand, he wishes him to know of any possible dangers. On the other, his friend is so very content these days, coming in from some project or other with grime on his skin and a smile on his face. Indrid’s own desire to stay with him here, in a house he can pretend is theirs, threatens to drown out all other reasons.

Eventually, his conscience shouts it down while he and Duck are on their evening walk.

“Oh yeah, Barclay told me about that a few days ago. Some ghost apparently wanders around the moor at night; got somethin to do with a murderous ancestor.”

“That does not alarm you.”

“You know I don’t believe in curses and destiny or anythin like that. People make up all kinds of stories when they’re alone in wild places.”

Indrid’s foresight guides his arm, gripping Duck and keeping him from moving forward.

“Does that look like a story?”

Directly ahead of them, a tor rises like a spike. Atop it, revealed by the rising moon, is a gigantic, fur-covered shape.

“See” Duck whispers, “were we back home, I’d say that was a bear.”

“And now?”

“Given there ain’t been bears in this part of the world in decades, I say we get the hell outta here.”

They take off back down the slope, the hall a collection of yellow squares of light in the darkening distance. A howl splits the air behind them and Indrid quickens his pace, keeps his eyes on the future in hopes of protecting them both.

This means he doesn’t see the burrow in the path until his ankle goes sideways in it.

“‘Drid!”

“Under no circumstances are you to try and help meAH!” He yelps as Duck swings him over his shoulder and continues his flight towards the house. As he’s bounced about, Indrid watches a glowing shape bounding closer.

“Thank fuck.” Duck crosses the gate, slams them closed, and lowers Indrid to his feet. Nothing glares at them from the path. But a growl creeps from the shadows and follows them until they shut the door.

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

“How’s the ankle?” Duck drops his coat on the chair opposite Indrid before tending to the fire.

“Better than yesterday. I should be up and moving tomorrow, if the futures are to be believed.”

“You know you don’t gotta rush. I’m happy to take care of you.”

Indrid picks at the ends of the blanket in his lap, “but I miss being able to aid you with work.”

“There’ll be lots of time for that. We got plenty to do to get the house to where we can live in it full time.”

“We?”

Duck goes completely still, then fails to put the fire poker back in place three separate times. When he finally meets Indrid’s eyes, he looks worried.

“‘Drid? What’s your endgame? With, uh, with me?”

“I…” Indrid grabs his teacup, intending to drink it to buy time and finds it empty, ‘I...I don’t know. I, I wanted to prove to you that I could find you a companion who made you happy, hoping you would give me another chance to locate your perfect match. But lately I, ah, I struggle to see that plan working. As I do not wish you to have any match but me.”

Duck moves across the rug, shadows on his face making it hard to read.

“I know that shows great selfishness on my part. If that is not something you wish to have in your life I, I…” he shrinks back as Duck leans down, certain this is the timeline where he accuses him of being a conniving monster.

“Funny you should say you’re bein selfish” Duck braces his arms on either side of the chair, “because I’ve been beatin myself thinkin’ I was selfish for keepin you out here so long.”

“Keep me here forever.” Indrid whispers. Duck smiles, closes the remaining space between them. His lips are still a bit chilly from working outside; Indrid does everything he can to warm them with his own.

The shorter orc straddles him and he whines so needily that Duck snickers in reply.

“What’s wrong darlin? Kissin too much for you?’

“On the contrary; it is far too little, but my injury means my ability to drag you to my bed and beg for more is greatly impeded.”

“Good thing we live alone.” Duck pulls the blanket from Indrid’s lap, nibbles his ear as the seer catches on and begins frantically undoing the buttons of Duck’s workshirt and shoving his suspenders. When at last he pushes it open he loses himself a moment, tipping forward to tongue at the golden ring in Duck’s left nipple.

“AHheh, gettin right to it. Good” Duck unbuttons his pants, “because I’ve been wantin to fuck you since before we even came out here.”

“Oh I see” Indrid purrs, “you lured me into the countryside to sully my virtue.”

Duck laughs, full throated, as his tusks catch in the firelight, “You forgettin the time we got drunk instead of goin to the opera and you told me you convinced two sailors to take you home?”

“Only if you’ve forgotten telling me about the young ranch-hand you gave several rides to” Indrid nibbles along his neck, his twitching oddly in their quest to grind against him without jostling his ankle.

“Not a chance. But I don’t care about reminiscin right now; right now, I got the best lookin fella in the world beggin for my dick.”

“I’m not begging.” Indrid tilts his head back to help Duck get his shirt open some.

“Not yet.” Duck grins, then shoves his hand down his trousers.

“Ohhhhhyes” Indrid reaches for him.

“Keep your hands on the armrests until I say you can move ‘em.”

“But, but” it’s hard to argue when he’s trying to stare a hole through Duck’s remaining clothes. His partner notices and makes a show of moaning louder.

“Only good boys get to watch the show. You gonna be good for me?”

“The best.”

Duck kisses the tip of his nose, then wiggles and kicks his pants and underwear off. Indrid can only watch, growing more envious by the moment, as he fucks himself open and rubs a thumb along his cock. Indrid tries bucking his hips, only to discover Duck is keeping himself out of reach.

“Cruel creature.” Indrid groans.

“Cruel? I’m giving you a seat to the best show in town.”

“I’d rather you take the best seat in town.”

Duck laughs, is still doing so when he bends to kiss him. Indrid whimpers, nails digging into the upholstery to keep his promise of good behavior. Duck notices.

“Good boy.”

“AHHHnnnthankyou, thankyouthankyouthankyou” Indrid moans as Duck drops his weight into his lap, grinding on his clothed cock with abandon. He flings Indrids hands up to his shoulders. The seer glides them up to his hair, burying them there where he’s now certain they’ve always belonged. Duck mirrors him, lips only leaving his to bite the tip of his ear.

“Fuck, Indrid, that’s it darlin, lemme ride you like the sleek little beast you are.”

He whines, loses his thoughts as Ducks hips quicken.

“I know ‘Drid, you like bein mine, like that I’ll bounce on this fuckin perfect dick as often as you want as long as you’re my good, sweet, ohsweetfuck, fuck, darlin’” Duck drops his forehead to Indrid’s shoulder with a groan as he cums, soaking the fabric of his pants. Before Indrid can think about stopping, Duck picks up again with as much force as before, growling in his ear to be a good little social climber and cum for his lord.

Indrid cums at that with a chirping sound he thought he’d stopped making long ago, legs spasming from the force of his climax. Unfortunately, this means his pleasure is chased by a burst of pain. He whimpers, flinches, and Duck spots the problem.

“Oh, oh darlin I’m sorry” He drops to the floor, rubbing Indrid’s thighs, “thought the position would keep you from hurtin.”

“Apparently not. I, I want you to know I don’t regret it in the slightest.”

Duck smiles, relieved, and rests his head on Indrid’s stomach, “Guess you did find me a match, huh?”

Indrid bends slowly, nuzzling his hair with a hum, “Yes, I believe so.”

#indruck #meet ugy #indrid cold/ duck newton #orc au #victorian au #trans duck newton

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katehuntington · 4 years ago

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2020, 2nd edition Disclaimer: ‘Kate Huntington’s Author & Fanfiction Recommendations’ is a platform for writers, to show appreciation for their work and expand their audience. I do not claim to be the author of these stories, neither do I own them. Read each writer’s warnings carefully, most of them are rated +18.

Without further ado, here is my list of recommendations.

One shots

“My Hero” - written by @plaidstiel-wormstache Angst/fluff - Sam Winchester x female reader, Dean Winchester - 1524 words When Sam gets hurt on a hunt, Y/N is the only one who can help him. What I love most about this fanfic is the medical accuracy. I am no expert in any way, but after seeing countless medical dramas and having done plenty of research for characters and stories, I really appreciate it when knowledge about medicine practically drips from my screen. A lovely read.

“Everytime You Leave, I Hit Rock Bottom” - written by @arazialotis Angst/fluff/slight smut - Dean Winchester x female reader - 2050 words This story portrays little snippets of Dean’s and Y/N’s relationship as they struggle to balance her normal life with his life as a hunter. The writer has done a beautiful job showing how much of a challenge it would truly be. The longing for each other after weeks apart, the realistic arguments. It’s liberating to read fanfiction that shows the imperfections that come with being a hunter’s other half.

“Nicotine” - written by @talesmaniac89 Angst - Dean Winchester x reader - 1966 words Dean has plenty of unhealthy coping mechanisms to help him get through his dark days, but the only drug that really helps, is you. This story is inspired by the song Nicotine by Chef’Special and was written for my 1K celebration. The lyrics to this song are surprisingly depressing, despite it being an upbeat song, and the writer has captured it better than I could have ever hoped for. If her writing was music, it would be a symphony played by an orchestra. Her way with words is melodic and moving. Goosebumps all over.

“Over Our Heads” - written by @deanssweetheart23 Fluff - Dean Winchester x female reader - 2482 words The feelings Dean and Y/N have for each other and have been under wraps for years begin to surface during a movie night. Oh my word, what an amazing thing to witness. This sweet story is a gorgeous piece of writing. How the author is able to take such a quiet and simple moment and turn it into something so meaningful and heartfelt, is beyond me. Talent oozes from this fanfic and is worth your time and love.

“The Voices” - written by @fictionalabyss Angst/comfort - Dean Winchester x female reader - 1215 words

Based on ‘I hear the voices when I’m dreaming. I can hear them sing’ from the Supernatural anthem Carry On My Wayward Son, comes this breathtakingly beautiful piece of fanfiction. Perfect lines, spot on dialogue and it couldn’t have been more true to the character. It’s painfully raw, sad, and tears will fall. It makes you feel for Dean in ways that are difficult to describe. The writer of this story is known for her talent with words, but she outdid herself here.

“The Things We Tell Ourselves” - written by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord Comfort/fluff/explicit - Dean Winchester x reader, Sam Winchester Y/N is miserably stuck in a stale relationship, and then an old flame rolls into town. The very first line is already a winner; what a way to start a fic. The picture this writer paints of a flawed relationship is very realistic. I think a lot of people can relate, being stuck, too far in to just pull the plug. The descriptions are very detailed and this story has the reader wishing for more.

“Promise Me We’ll Be Alright” - written by @impala-dreamer Angst - Dean Winchester x reader - 1303 words This one shot portrays Dean’s struggle with bearing the Mark of Cain so beautifully. Everyone could imagine how rough it must have been for him, but this writer took that pain and my heart with it. She has the ability to leave things unsaid in order for the next line for a bigger impact; it’s smart writing and it’s so effective. It’s vivid, it’s realistic, it’s breathtaking.

“Time For Plan B” - written by @thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters Fluff - Dean Winchester x pregnant!reader, Sam Winchester - 1900 words So much fluff, that I smiled all the way through. For one, it’s incredibly well written, it flows so wonderfully. Secondly, the comedy and the lightness of this bit of fanfiction is perfect. Writing something that’s funny isn’t easy, but this author did a terrific job. It’s a perfect blend of fluff and funny. Thirdly, who can resist father-to-be Dean? “Side By Side” - written by @talesmaniac89 Angst - Dean Winchester x reader - 2542 words On the anniversary of yet another fallen friend, Dean is unable to cope with the loss, but thankfully he has Y/N by his side. Another brilliant creation, based on the song Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol. A song which surfaces a lot of emotions, much like this poetic and amazing piece of fanfiction. Words that come to mind are heart wrenching, tear jerking, and in a way comforting as well. A must read.

“Cabin Fever” - written by @slytherkins Angst/explicit - Dean Winchester x Chloe (OFC) - 17002 words This has got to be hands down the best thing to discover in a while. What an amazing work of art. 17K might sound like a lot and original characters aren’t read as much on this platform, but it is worth every second of time. The storytelling is gripping and the well told tail will not let the reader go. The way the creator described Dean and his torment, his inner thoughts and his struggle is absolutely superb. It’s a homage to everyone dealing with chronic pain, disability and depression. This fic had me clutching my chest and praying ‘no no no no, please don’t do it’ all the way through. I haven’t felt emotional about writing like this much, but this writer knocked it out of the damn park.

“I Just Called To Say I Love You” - written by @talesmaniac89 Angst - Dean Winchester x reader When Dean gets lethally injured and has only minutes to live, he calls the woman he loves to have one last normal, happy moment with her. It hurts as bad as it sounds, but in the most wonderful way. It’s exactly how Dean would go down, the characterization beyond perfect. The descriptions, the dialogue, the details, the choices. The song that serves as the perfect title has been forever ruined for me. It’s a Rembrandt painted with letters.

“To The End Of Time” - written by @impala-dreamer Angst - Dean Winchester x reader - 2600 words Talking about fanfiction completely changing the meaning of a song. I have heard ‘Paradise By The Dashboard Light’ by Meatloaf a couple of times on the radio now, and I cannot listen to it without thinking of this story. Dean mourning the death of his loved one is painfully well described. The alternations between the present and the flashbacks, the evident contrast between the happiness that was and the sorrow that is now. It’s beautifully done. The song fits the story perfectly. What a read.

“Calm After The Storm” - written by @thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters Angst/comfort - Dean Winchester x reader - 2200 words What a pleasant surprise this one shot was! As a stormchaser, this little AU had my heart from the beginning, but you certainly don’t need to be an admirer of the weather to appreciate it. Besides that the subject really appeals to me, it’s also incredibly well written. The comfort Dean offers is sincere and moving.

“Bring It On Home” - written by @thoughtslikeaminefield Fluff/explicit - Dean Winchester x female reader - 1207 words Dean comes home to his girl after a hunt, unable to wait to be with her again. This writer has a very poetic way of describing this sweet scene. There are so many wonderful lines in here, little gems wrapped up in heartwarming, carefree and happy fluff. I wish something so pure for my favorite hunter.

��A New Future” - written by @kittenofdoomage Fluff/angst/explicit - Alpha!Dean Winchester x female Omega!reader - 9944 words Dean is unable to deal with the aftermath of losing his brother, but Y/N is there to pick up the pieces. How she puts the battered hunter back together is a beautiful thing to see in words. I’m always amazed how well this author writes A/B/O. Although it might not be everyone’s cup of tea, she certainly managed to get me on the alpha omega train. The storytelling is strong, the characters authentic, the details amazing, every word of dialogue spot on.

“Comfort” - written by @idreamofplaid Fluff/comfort - Dean Winchester x female reader, Sam - 2342 words Y/N and Dean have a routine when he leaves on a hunt, but also one when he comes home to her, and it’s such a beautiful thing. It’s lovely to witness how comfortable Dean is and how he allows her to love him, as much as he loves her. The details are astonishing, how she makes everything perfect for her hunter to return, how they don’t talk about the hunt, but just are. Very well written, I was floating while reading this and felt warm from all the affection. The writer does a wonderful job drawing the one reading in, making it impossible to put down.

“If It Was To Work” - written by @deangirl93 Angst/Fluff/explicit - Dean Winchester x reader, Sam Winchester - 3979 words After a much needed black and white, non-Chuck hunt, the Winchesters go to a bar for a good time. Dean doesn’t expect to run into a familiar face, however. The very first one shot of a new writer and it certainly deserves attention. This new kid on the block has so much potential! This story for instance is an uncut diamond. The writing is smart, with beautiful quotes which call back to the show we all love so much. The author of this fanfic is one to watch!

Imagines:

“Imagine Dean debating asking you out” - written by @luci-in-trenchcoats Fluff/comedy - Dean Winchester x female reader Dean has a crush on a girl, Sam is calling him out. When his little brother threatens to expose his secret, Dean tries to silence him, and it’s honestly the funniest read I’ve had this month. Writing comedy isn’t easy, but this was flawless.

“Imagine depression hitting you hard” - written by @wicked-wayward-warrior Angst/comfort - Dean Winchester x Jazzie Baker (OFC) - 1993 words Jazzie is struggling, but thankfully Dean is by her side. This story is an ode to everyone dealing with mental illness. The way this author put depression to words is both chilling and amazing. Dean being the support and the comforting man that everyone wants in their life if just what I needed.

“Imagine experiencing your worst nightmare” - written by @carryonmywaywardcaptain Angst - Dean Winchester x reader The angst is strong with this one, because Dean expresses what he really feels, but it will not be what you think. The opening is painfully dark, then it takes a turn, and the way this writer described the confusing and anxious thoughts of Y/N is really well done. Everyone can relate to this; being dismissed and hated by the ones you love is worse than losing them all together. A good read.

Drabbles:

“All That’s Left” - written by @impalaimagining Angst/comfort - Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Misha Collins - 559 words Just the thought of my favorite show ending has me emotional, not to mention when it’s put into words like this. God, this is beautiful. The way this author describes Jensen, Jared and Misha is amazing. So true to them, so tangible. She’s brave enough to leave things unsaid, the silence expressing so much more than words ever could. Reading how everyone’s favorite people say farewell to Supernatural pulls at heartstrings in a way that is both sad and comforting.

“She’s Not You” - written by @winchest09 Fluff - Dean Winchester x female reader - 995 words At the night of senior prom, and Y/N’s date stood her up, until someone knocked on the door. I for one am a total sucker for a prom date!Dean; still a teenager, sort of innocent, and yet still the Dean we’ve all fallen in love with. This was written so effortlessly and sweetly. If anyone is in the need of some tooth-rotting fluffiness, this is the go-to fic.

“You’re Home” - written by @impala-dreamer Angst/explicit - Dean Winchester x reader - 682 words Another drabble that’s worth mentioning is this short story. It portrays the hunter waking up from a nightmare about Purgatory, Y/N next to him to sooth him. Beka does Dean’s PTSD more justice in 682 words than the writers have ever done on the entire show. A beautiful piece of art.

“Home Is Where You Are” - written by @muggleishly Fluff - Daddy!Dean Winchester x reader Dean comes home from a hunt to his family, and oh my word, it couldn’t be fluffier. Dean as a father melts every fangirl’s heart, but the creator of this lovely little drabble turned it up a notch. Sweet as candy, uplifting and light on its feet. This one will definitely lift your spirits in dark times.

“Handy Man” - written by @deanwanddamons Fluff - Dean Winchester x reader - 862 words Dean fixing a blocked drain under the kitchen sink in a black shirt and Levi’s jeans; what a sight that must be. The writer of this fic is able to describe the scene in great detail. Besides the obvious appreciation of the gorgeous man, it’s great to see him doing something normal and domesticated. It’s the life we all wish for him. A great little drabble for a Sunday morning with a cup of tea by the side.

“One For Tomorrow, One Just For Today” - written by @thoughtslikeaminefield Explicit/fluff - Dean Winchester x reader - 662 words Sex with Dean is always amazing, but there’s nothing hotter than him singing a classic while he’s doing it. After reading this, that famous song by The Doors will never sound the same. Sit back, relax and listen to the music.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed the work of the authors above, don’t be afraid to let them know. I’m sure they will appreciate it. Feel free to share!

If you have any suggestions or would like a tag in the future, drop a request in my inbox or send me a message.

Love, Kate

#Kate Huntington's author & fanfiction recommendations #fic recs #Supernatural fanfiction #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester fanfiction #Dean x Reader #Sam x Reader #Supernatural #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #not mine

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moghedien · 5 years ago

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I only caught the very end of the Hugos this year because I didn’t realize it was happening until I saw people vague tweeting GRRM’s messiness, so some of these details might be slightly wrong but I want to share something that occurred because it’s low key amazing

So basically the Hugos were entirely online this year because covid doesn’t really make it possible for an actual ceremony, and the online ceremony was mostly done by George RR Martin (occasionally others but mostly him) having prerecorded bits where he introduced the catagories and the nominees and then it would cut to him announcing the winners live.

So GRRM was a fucking mess and apparently did little but wax poetic about incredibly problematic and long dead SFF writers, and did little to acknowledge the modern genre and current writers. He also continuously mispronounced the names of nominees who had non-English names. This was despite the fact that he was given pronunciation guides and all the segments where this happened were pre-recorded. Rumor is that he was asked to re-record these bits and refused, but that’s just rumor last I saw it mentioned. Apparently there was also a lot of transphobic jokes but I wasn’t watching when this apparently happened so I’m not sure exactly what occurred there.

One of the writers that GRRM continuously talked about (positively) was John W. Campbell. This is extra notable because one of the awards given during the Hugos ceremony is the Astonishing Award for Best New Writer, which you until this year was called the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer. It changed because, well, Campbell was a fucking fascist.

The 2019 winner of the award (still called a Campbell then) was Jeannette Ng, who used her speech to call Campbell a fascist and question the motives behind honoring his legacy. She wasn’t the first to question the name, but having the winner of the John W Campbell award begins her speech by calling the namesake a “fucking fascist,” that kinda says something. Six days later, the name was changed. Jeannette wasn’t the only one saying this, but she had the mic and her actions 100% led to the name being changed. This year, that speech was nominated for a Hugo for Best Related Work. Link to the speech here

So that is the context. People were pissed in general that GRRM was willing to talk about players in the genre decades ago, many who were not great guys and are long dead, but he was also going on and on about Campbell. The literal next year after the award previously named after him was changed and his legacy was being criticized finally, and the same year that a speech criticizing him was up for an award, GRRM couldn’t stop praising the guy. It felt aggressive and intentional.

So all of this happened and like I mentioned, Jeannette Ng’s original speech was up for an award. By the time her category came up, people were long since fed up with GRRM’s behavior. If he wasn’t intentionally doing this, he was so ignorant as to what has been going on that maybe he shouldn’t be the one hosting this thing since he clearly couldn’t read the room. So Best Related Work came around and guess who won?

The sheer satisfaction and at Jeannette’s speech winning just about exploded my Twitter feed. If you want to see her acceptance speech for that here’s a link

If you aren’t aware, the Hugos are voted on my members of worldcon, so while there are some flaws to how people are nominated and win, it at least isn’t a panel of judges or a small board. It’s, in theory, the general audience for the SFF genre (though really only those that paid for worldcon membership but that’s another issue). The point is that GRRM used his hosting powers to try to uphold the legacy of a majority white cishet politically conservative bygone age, but was effectively told by the actual current audience of science fiction and fantasy “fuck that”

Anyway, stan Jeannette Ng

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i-love-side-characters · 4 years ago

Note

What did you think of the end of The Toll?

!!! TOLL SPOILERS !!! PROCEED WITH CAUTION !!!

Scythe Cult: @honorablescythecurie @honorablescythefaraday @palli-x @book-limerence @lochscinders @a-lonely-tatertot @shellyseashell

bored? send me serotonin please <3

Okay now lets get a couple things out of the way. I haven’t read Toll in a little bit, and it’s taking forever to come from the library. Also, yes I did have it downloaded before, but I kept rereading Faraday’s journal entry when he find out Curie is dead. I know, I’m trash for them but honestly let me have this #curiedeservedbetter2021 #faradaydeservedbetter2021 #curadayforlife

Now that we’ve established that I’m just lonely and so I cling onto healthy (ish) fictional couples for my source of love, let’s proceed.

Things I remember:

- Rowan and Citra go zoomy zoom into spacey space, but Citra’s deadish because Goddard pulled some shit and so Rowan’s going to wait a couple hundred years for her to wake up

- Total hottie Ayn Rand shanked Goddard which is honestly a power move you go girl

- Faraday and Munira unleashed the failsafe, which basically infected a whole bunch of people and now Scythes just kill the infected people so that there’s no suffering

- Jeri!!! and Greyson!!! Babeys!!! Smol Beans!!! My genderfluid babey with my weird Jesus man it’s a match made by the Thunderhead (because it literally is)

- Rowan and Citra (who renounced her Scythehood) are going to start a new colony on some random ass planet

Things I don’t remember:

- Whatever happen with Cirrus

- Whatever happen with Joel the Jobe Man

- Whatever happen with Loriana and Munira who are totally in love Shusterman said Sapphic rights

Okay Akki stfu lets move on:

Okay. I didn’t really like it. I did like Rowan’s sarcasm, but the ending fell a little flat. Compared to the other books’ endings, I didn’t really think it measured up. It was just a bit bland. Here’s why.

The end goal:

Let’s just work our way through the series to show why The Toll just didn’t really work for me.

Scythe - Book 1:

Goal/Climax:

The goal/climax of the book was clear. Citra and Rowan are fighting for the ring. Only one can get it, and the winner has to glean the other.

The ending:

Citra wins the ring, and is ordained. Instead of actually killing (gleaning) Rowan, she slyly grants him immunity by punching him so that his blood’s DNA would transfer to the database and no Scythe could kill him. We also got a confession scene where they tell each other they love the other. It ends with Rowan finding out that Faraday did not self-glean.

Why it works:

It is tense. We are watching the two main characters have to either kill the other or be killed. Neither want to. It is clear from their actions throughout that they harbour feelings for each other. This is a high stakes situation. And it flows nicely. We don’t have any unnecessary dialogue/scenes. We don’t have a dumb solution to the problem where a bunch of unnecessary events happen like a character death/romantic scene. They do tell the other that they love them, but the moment is quick and is not the focus of the moment. The focus is on the actual ordainment ceremony and the challenge. The solution directly addresses the main conflict of the book.

Thunderhead - Book 2:

Goal/Climax:

Goddard and Citra (now Anastasia) are presenting their arguments as to who will win the inquest. The inquest was called because Anastasia and Curie needed time to gain more votes in favour of Curie for the position of High Blade.

The ending:

Anastasia and Curie win the inquest, and Goddard must complete a full new apprenticeship in order to train his new body. Goddard, however, has tricks up his sleeve. He had made a plan prior to the events on Endura to cripple the Grandslayers tower. The plan changes, but works to his favour and destroys the entire island. Curie, in a desperate attempt to save Rowan and Citra, locks them in an airtight chamber that will preserve them so they can be revived. With this sacrifice, Curie is forced to self glean.

“She thrust her blade inward, directly into her heart. She fell to the ground only seconds before the sea would wash over her, but she knew death would wash over her faster. And the blade hurt far less than she imagined it would, which made her smile. She was good. Very, very good.”

-Thunderhead, page 499

Why it works:

*violently screams in my head* I’m good don’t worry

It is a logical ending. If Curie and Anastasia had won the inquest and survived Endura, there would be no need for a third book, unless Shusterman had decided to write a book about Curie being High Blade and Goddard sulking in the shadows and plotting to kill her. That wouldn’t work because I don’t think there is any possible way Curie wouldn’t catch Goddard in two seconds because she’s a boss.

Many people say that Curie should have gotten Rowan to lock her and Anastasia in the vault instead of him. Rowan would have died for Anastasia, it makes sense, but that takes away from the very essence of Curie’s character. She is a truly Honourable Scythe. She knows that Anastasia loves him, and she cares deeply about Anastasia. Letting herself survive would have been completely out of character. She also knows that Anastasia is the future of the Scythedom. While it would be a great help if Curie didn’t die, as well as sparing us emotional trauma, it doesn’t make sense for her character.

This ending also directly “solved” the issue in the book. While the villain won, it was a satisfying ending. Curie is dead, that was a very smart move, because obviously Goddard wouldn’t survive two seconds if she was there. It gave us a good reason for the Thunderhead to disappear.

*violently screams again* Curie died, yeah, no, I’m okay

The Toll - Book 3: *note that some details may be wrong

Goal/Climax:

Faraday, Rowan, Jeri, Munira, Loriana, Anastasia, Greyson, and Cirrus need to figure out what to with the frozen Tonists, all unknowing that Scythes Goddard and Rand are heading towards the island. They still need to beat him in order to make sure that the non-Scythe population won’t be subject to bias/malice/aforethought/Goddard’s ego.

The ending:

Rowan, and Citra, who renounced her Scythehood, travel to another planet that can support life with the frozen Tonists, as well as 42 other ships carrying Tonists. Cirrus is copied into 42 different versions in order to save humanity. After being offered Citra’s old ring, Munira (I believe) returns to the Library of Alexandria. Faraday follows through with the failsafe and gleans only the suffering. Greyson and Jeri stay together on the island, and become romantically involved. Scythe Rand is the one who eventually kills Goddard.

Why it DOESN’T work:

Okay, there’s a lot to unpack here. I’m just going to go character by character and by the plot.

1. Plot - It just doesn’t make sense. The hero’s solution doesn’t in any way stop Goddard, who is the main villain. We’ve led up to this for a very long time, and Rand is the one who gleans him. If I’m correct, The main characters don’t interact with Goddard for nearly the entire book, save Rowan. The solution, to save humanity by colonizing other planets would, without Rand’s interference, let Goddard wreak his havoc on the world. Only Scythe Faraday and Morrison could truly challenge him, and even then Faraday is old and hasn’t kept his abilities refined, and Morrison is young and inexperienced and wears a denim robe.

2. Rand and Goddard’s Arcs - Rand is the one who kills Goddard. I think that this was a very interesting move, and one that made a lot of sense. Goddard has treated her terribly, it would satisfy her arc of turning against him, as well as giving her a redemption arc that would also avenge Tyger’s death. I think that this is actually a really good arc, were it not for the fact that Citra and Goddard never fought/interacted with each other. If there had been a fight, and Rand had killed him then, that would have been better and would have better satisfied the actual conflict in the book.

3. Rowan and Citra’s Arcs - In terms of Citra’s arc, I think it was emotionally impactful to have her renounce her Scythehood. But Rowan didn’t have as much of a part to play in this book as he could have had. Citra and Goddard also never interacted, which would have been very interesting since he was the direct cause of her mentor and canon mother figure’s death. It would have been an interesting scene that could have played out really well. Based on Discord texts from a conversation I had, I know an reminded that the last two pages of The Toll were incredibly impactful and beautiful. I don’t have much to say about Rowan since I don’t remember much of his role.

4. Jeri, Greyson, Loriana, and Munira’s Arcs - I paired these four together since their doings aren’t very solid after the books. Jeri and Greyson are canonically together, which I think was a great move by Shusterman. Having a main character in a healthy relationship with a canon LGBTQ+ character was incredibly impactful for me, and it satisfied Greyson’s thoughts about how he doesn’t care if Jeri is a boy or a girl, he just loves them. Loriana didn’t have as much of an arc, but Munira did have a small one. Her refusal of the Scythe’s ring let her dispense of her hatred for Scythes and their system, and let her let go of her bitter feelings about not being ordained.

5. Cirrus’ Arc? - I do not remember enough to speak about Cirrus’ role in the books.

6. Faraday’s Arc - This is probably the one I have the most to say about. I am sorry in advance. Faraday is an emotional character. He has cried canonically twice as far as I can remember, once when he gleaned a child, and the other when he found out Scythe Curie and Anastasia had died on Endura. He is also openly disgusted with Scythe Goddard and his practices, which is why I supremely dislike his arc. It would have been so interesting to see how he would have reacted if Scythe Goddard and the heroes had interacted during the end scene of The Toll. We know he is an Honourable Scythe, like Curie, and upholds the Scythe Commandments, especially after his punishment over his breaking of the 9th commandment “Thou shalt have no spouse nor spawn.” It would have been so. interesting. to see whether Faraday would snap and attack Goddard, if he would try and talk to him, how he would react. Like with Anastasia, he would have been interacting with Curie’s murderer. The potential of that moment! Don’t forget that Faraday is definitely still in love with Curie, based on his elevated heart rate in Thunderhead, and his journal entry in The Toll. I think it would have been so interesting to see him confront her killer.

Summary:

Okay that was much longer than I intended, and I have more thoughts, but it’s 2:40 am and I haven’t slept in a while. So my summary. I liked The Toll. It was a solid book, that had funny moments, jaw dropping moments, heartfelt moments, and emotionally impactful scenes. It was a solid book.

I don’t think it compared as much to the other two, especially Thunderhead. The ending fell a little flat and didn’t carry the arcs as well as I would have liked, but honestly, I still reread it. Shusterman really managed to pull at your emotions.

Because I just beat up on the book for the last couple paragraphs, let me tell you some of my favourite parts of the book.

1. Literally any scene with Possuelo and Anastasia that dynamic was so good and him calling her “meu anjo” literally made my heart do a little happy dance the father-daughter dynamic was what we needed. It also offered a nice levity to tough scenes.

2. The Rowan-Anastasia Reunion. They ran towards each other and knocked each other off their feet. Ohhhh my god, they ran towards each other and knocked each other off their feet! That was so cute, and as someone who was a strong supporter of platonic Rowan & Anastasia, I honestly loved it.

3. Faraday-Anastasia Reunion. Him dropping to his knees in front her her, her initial confusion as to who he was, and the “perhaps the greatest of all Scythes was kneeling in front of her” part killed me. Their reunion was so well written and heart-wrenching.

4. Anastasia Cries about Curie’s Death. I feel like WatchMojo right now. Anyways, the way her emotions break after trying to repress her sadness over her mentor’s sacrifice for her.

5. Rowan’s sarcasm. Beauty. What a power move to sass the guy who’s going to set you on fire in front of 3000 people.

6. Scythe Constantine and Rand. What a dynamic I wasn’t ready for. Rand’s cool comebacks with Constantine’s sly personality just made for the most amazing dialogue opportunities.

Thank you anon!

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lambourngb · 4 years ago

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Nailing that Dynamic- Recs - Day 1

Day 1 for Creator’s Week, and I gotta say, this is my favorite fan event, mainly because it was the first one I participated last year. This little rec set is devoted to dynamics, divided into friendship, found family, and finally romantic (and yes, that’s Malex with me.)

We’ve had two seasons of this show, and while I can’t really relate to aliens or even the immigrant story, I do relate strongly to the stories behind friendship. I can say my appetite for fic with a good friendship dynamic will always be there.

Will You Be My Friend- Circle Yes or No (recs)

Finding You by @myrmidryad (122,000) - If by chance the canon from high school bums you out, this is the story to read. Gin writing malex is always a ‘no-brainer I’m gonna read it story’ for me, but what really set this epic apart was how beautifully Gin writes the friendship dynamics between Michael & Liz, and Michael & Max. It’s a canon-divergent story with no-murder of Rosa or the shed scene, where in order to avoid enlistment, Alex disappears from Roswell and joins the Max & Liz road trip with Michael in tow. They just need to fill that gap between high school and the opening of the dorms at UNM so they can start a life together. And fill it they do with this road trip. There were moments where I sobbed with how badly Michael needed this in canon and didn’t get it. It also made me like Max, so, yeah. Great writing and characterizations here.

Hit the Road by @bestillmyslashyheart - (7,100) - One of the brightest spots for me in season two was Rosa Ortecho, and one of the most frustrating parts of season two was the fact we didn’t get any interaction between her and Alex. *screams* At least I had a few crumbs of Rosa & Maria (not nearly enough!) but still. Where there’s a glaring gap in canon, thank god there’s fanfic. Marlo treats us to a delightful story written post season 1, but had some surprisingly psychic lines about Malex, number one how they don’t think they are good for one another. I really enjoyed what this story says about leaving- and honestly, the town of Roswell has so much pain tied to these characters, they should all take long road trips away from it.

a few drinks and some conversation by @christchex / @michaels-blackhat (5,600 ) - this one is set post-season 2, with all the complications of Michael deciding now wasn’t the right time for him and Alex, while also working on giving Maria the right space after their breakup. I think it’s pretty clear that Michael needs a friend he’s not related to and someone he hasn’t slept with - to provide him so low-stakes genuine company outside of the alien bullshit and love triangle dynamics. Christi does this beautifully through the eyes of an OC and the number of times I’ve read this story is like 10, and also, it’s inspired my current story about Michael going on dates.

and headin’ out singing our song by @stars-and-sunshine (4,100) post season 2, Alex and Michael head off on a road trip (okay, this is a trope I apparently like since I’ve recced three stories now, hahaha) after Alex’s car breaks down. There’s a careful space in this story, of two men building a friendship again. The roadtrip details are beautiful, but what stayed with me is a scene in the museum. That summer of 2008 had some ghosts to address.

If I Follow You Home, Will You Keep Me? found-family dynamics

When You’re Gone by @bestillmyslashyheart (8,200) - Before I tell you why I love this story, I want everyone to follow the next link and read this story about email and messages and grief in the digital age [trigger for cancer death] chat history by Rebecca Armendariz. (She also wrote a follow up called Timelines published by the Hairpin that talks about the memory function on facebook.) So back to the story, this is Rosa, opening her email 10 years after her death and reading the messages people sent her, thinking they were speaking into the void. Liz, Maria, Alex, Mimi and Arturo, all of them sending her notes, sometimes time passes without an email, then an event triggers that memory of Rosa not being there- and yeah, I found this whole thing to be so moving.

Never Ever Getting Rid of Me by @spaceskam - (4,400) this probably could have gone in the friendship side, but I feel like when you work in a high stakes place like a hospital, friends is a term that ends up being too light, and with the level of competition and stress it grows a bond like family... anyway, this is an AU where Michael and Kyle end up at the same hospital as competing interns but some elements of canon are still there.

still fixing all the cracks by @emma-arthur - (3,400) this is a pre-canon story, set when Alex is 14. He’s still a soft child, being tortured by his dad, and soaking up the attention from Liz, Rosa and Arturo when he breaks a glass and spirals. Heavy discussion of child abuse and homophobic abuse, but a really good exploration of the canon-neglected Liz & Alex friendship, plus with that paternal Arturo Ortecho in the mix...

Ophiuchus by @planetsam - (11,600) the other bright side of season 2 was the reveal of Walt Sanders as being not only Michael’s boss, but someone who knew his mother, knew what he was, and silently looked out for him...now of course I wish he had been more overt in doing this, but fanfic once again has fixed this canon-oversight. This is an incredible look through Walt’s eyes as he gets in over his head adopting an alien child, especially one who already had issues from previous foster placements. I could read a million words in this verse.

The Michael Sanders AU by @prouvaireafterdark (17,000 ) And speaking of great AUs where Michael is raised by Walt, I would be really amiss in not mentioning this one. It’s got hot high school Malex moments, emotional/hurt comfort for both Michael’s past foster placements but also the shit Alex is living with at home. I have to say “Honey if You Stay” is my favorite, just because of how badly I wanted to hug teen Alex...

and finally, no found family rec list could be complete without mentioning the epic series To Raise a Child (117,000 in progress) by @haloud and @maeglinthebold - season 2 put some hits on my headspace and emotional reserves, not to mention 2020 nonsense, so I’m dreadfully behind in commenting on this story. It’s just a huge emotional bandaid for me right now- it takes the idea of “what if the adults in Roswell actually looked out for their children (and other peoples children) and protected them from shit” and what would that change. Michael was found at 7 and then runs away to Roswell at 10, so yeah, humans have already done their best to convince him the world sucks and only finding his siblings matters... Jim Valenti steps in, knowing what he is, and finds him a place in Roswell with Arturo Ortecho. Anyway, everyone gets a turn- Jim, Mimi, the kids, etc in the story, it’s well rounded and fleshed out. Obviously being a malex person my favorite parts are the kid-friendship/this-is-just-a-crush moments in second story, where if you hadn’t lost your heart to Michael Ortecho by then, well, you’re a goner after that story.

I Could Build Your Heart A Home (malex recs)

time will lie down and be still by @islndgurl777 (29,600) the Practical Magic AU - which I loved but I have never seen the movie it’s based on lol... anyway, this story almost belonged up with my found family dynamic recs, because the story opens with Isobel and Michael being 7 and 8 years old alien siblings and left with Mimi Deluca to raise with her daughter Maria, because with their father recently dead, their mother would soon follow as a species level soulmate bond. Michael vows never to fall in love. Then there’s a beautiful friendship between Maria, Liz, Isobel and Michael as they grow up together that I just wanted to roll around in forever... However this is a Malex rec, so once Alex enters the story in high school and things go down similarly with Jesse, Michael is heartbroken, his soulmate (he thinks) is gone, vanished into the Air Force, and he spends the next 10 years helping Maria, going to school with Liz, and keeping in touch with Isobel. Until 2018 when Isobel finds out her perfect man was like them, an alien, and bad, and they are forced to cover up his murder. Then Alex comes to town. But the soulmate storyline is the winner here and I just re-read it again.

here everyone knows (you’re the way to my heart) by @adamsparirsh (19,700) So this story tackles a dynamic that think will be the death-knell to the Alex/Forrest relationship- the weight of the alien secret and Alex’s responsibility gland and what that looks like to someone who wants to be in a relationship with him. The exclusion. But outside of that- there’s this part of Alex that isn’t willing to let anyone in that isn’t already there, and that’s Michael. I’m fucking weak for stories where these two assholes can’t connect with anyone but each other, and this one hits it. There’s also so many lovely friendship dynamics between everyone showing up for Alex- like Rosa, Isobel, Max, Maria. Obviously this is a Malex-is-endgame story, even though it starts Alex/Forrest.

it’s a long road back to you by @magsthemagical (17,000) This was an interesting, now AU take on what if Maria/Michael dated at the same time as Alex/Forrest, and honestly, I thought basted on the season two spoilers that was where we were heading. I was gobsmacked by 2x13. Anyway, here’s a story that discusses the tension that would happen if there had been simultaneous dating going on…the parts where Michael sees Alex being open with someone other than him were very raw and true to how I would think he would feel. For 10 years he wanted that and didn’t get it, and so of course the problem was probably him?? Anyway, I enjoyed this a lot, and again felt robbed that we are heading into a new triangle for season 3.

untouched by @prouvaireafterdark (5,200) - okay, you know when you have an alien soulmate idea in your head and you want it to appear on the page, and then it does and it’s everything you wanted? That’s what happened to me when ‘Untouched’ appeared. Obviously it’s AU, but my reptile brain just loves the idea that Michael and Alex can’t get off with anyone else, and then that frustration builds into a sexy explosion... there’s also some communcation happening with these clowns. But seriously for 5,000 words, A LOT HAPPENS here and I loved every word.

Would you come home by @caitlesshea (1000) How great would have it been if season 2 had ended with Michael and Alex found a baby in a stasis pod instead of Beardy Jones? Like seriously, this short little fic healed so many of my wounds from season 2 that I couldn’t help but include it here. I would take 50,000 more words in this sadly AU take.

Hoarding you by @foramomentonly (1200) okay, so the rain smell, like 2x04 was low key my favorite episode of RNM ever, especially with Alex throwing that flirty line “It’s smells like rain, that’s what you smell like under the grease and bourbon’ and this author takes that line, and fucking murders me with the idea that Alex can’t move on because of that smell. And Michael is now his, and finds out about it. This is my head canon, okay? No one can talk me out of it.

If you like any of these recs, please leave a comment on the story- a ‘this was awesome’ is enough to propell an author into the stratosphere with happiness, so don’t worry about coming up with a unique, never before shared insight- sometimes a keyboard smash and emogi makes all the difference!

#rnmcreate2020 #malex fic #malex fic recs #roswell new mexico #worship our great authors in this fandom #michael guerin #alex manes #fandom positivity #I love everyone in this bar #i love this fandom

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cheri-translates · 5 years ago

Text

[CN] Kiro’s Village Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

The phone call before this date: here! It happens right before the date, so do listen/read it for better context :)

The date begins with MC waiting around the train station for Kiro after reaching a remote town. A stranger comes up to her.

Stranger: Sister, are you here to visit relatives? Want to take my car?

MC: Thank you… but there’s no need…

Stranger: No need to be shy. My car is pretty fast, so just tell me where you want to go!

MC: I really don’t need… ah!

Someone grips my shoulder from behind, making my hair stand on end. My mind gets flooded with horror stories of female travelers who got duped when travelling on their own.

Kiro: Big brother, I’m here to pick my sister up, so there’s no need to bother you.

MC: Kiro!

I whip my head around to see Kiro blinking at me slyly.

Stranger: Ah sister, you should have mentioned that someone was picking you up!

With a wave of his hand, the man leaves. I heave a sigh of relief, and only now take a good look at Kiro.

It has been several days since we’ve last seen each other, and it looks like he has gotten thinner, and a little tanner. Even so, his eyes remain as bright as always, as though they store the blue sky in them.

Kiro: What’s with your shocked expression?

MC: You scared me just now…

Kiro: Then… I’ll definitely stand in front of you next time, okay?

MC: Mm! Have you been waiting long?

Kiro: Only for a bit. I arrived at the right time. Let’s go, sister. We shall take a big car!

Kiro mimics the stranger’s dialect, playfully pulling on my hand.

MC: W-what are you doing…

Kiro: This is to prevent you from getting taken away by people you don’t know.

We walk across the road while holding hands, and I finally see the vehicle that would be transporting us to the mountain village.

The first thing I see is a huge exhaust pipe pointing straight towards the sky. The wheels, which reach the height of half a person, support this giant creature.

The driver rolls up his sleeves from the front seat and greets us.

MC: Wait a minute… Kiro, when you said “big car”, you meant… a tractor?!

On the mountain dirt path, the wheels whip up gigantic balls of dust, and the loud vehicle scares off sparrows.

MC: Why a tractor…

Kiro: [shouting] What? Speak louder Miss Chips, I can’t hear you!

MC: I said – why is a tractor sending us to the village!

Kiro: [shouting happily] It can’t be helped. The only car in the village was sent for repair, so only Brother Zhang’s tractor is available for use. Don’t you find this interesting? You wouldn’t experience such a fun journey elsewhere!

Barely making out his words over the sound of the tractor, I can’t help but laugh.

MC almost falls out of the tractor during a particular rough turn.

Kiro: Be careful!

Kiro frantically reaches out to pull me back, and my head lands on his chest. His breath encases my surroundings – familiar yet mixed with the freshness of the mountains and forests.

Kiro: Are you okay? Did you hit anything?

I shake my head to signal that I’m all right, wanting to pull myself away from his chest to sit up properly. Instead, he hugs me even more tightly.

Kiro: This is to prevent you from falling out again.

I feel the warmth of his breath on the back of my neck, and it travels up to my ear slowly. I lift my head, only to meet his bright eyes. My cheeks begin to flush.

MC: Kiro, the driver is in front…

Kiro: What did you say? It’s too noisy. I~ can’t~ hear~ anything~

For the rest of the journey, I remain in Kiro’s arms. After many more turns on the dirt road, the tractor finally reaches its destination. By the time we thank the driver, disembark, and step into the village, it’s already late afternoon.

Even though the buildings are ancient, and the facilities are not as modern as in the city, there is life everywhere. In an environment so close to nature, even the air carries with it a certain sweetness.

A large group of villagers surround us once we enter the village. Wherever Kiro goes, he manages to build good relations with people.

Villager A: Ro-Ro, you finally brought your girlfriend? She’s very beautiful, you’re really lucky!

Villager B: Girl, come try my family’s walnut cookies. Take more, don’t be shy!

Villager C: Do you eat braised duck? Try my family’s braised duck!

In a moment, my hands are full of souvenirs.

MC: Thank you everyone… there’s really no need to do this…

I look at Kiro with a silent plea, and he comes over to help.

Kiro: Thank you all for your kind hospitality. Miss Chips just arrived, so I’m going to help her settle down first, all right?

The villagers gradually disperse after leaving a few more kind words. I heave a sigh of relief. Kiro takes the souvenirs from my hands, a little apologetic.

Kiro: Did they scare you? I didn’t expect the entire village to be here… they just wanted to give you a warm welcome since you came from such a faraway place.

MC: I’m happy that everyone is so welcoming, so I’m not scared.

Kiro: That’s great! Let’s put down our bags, then I’ll show you around. There are so many interesting places here. There’s a Flower Valley near the outskirts, and if you continue down the right…

He talks excitedly about the scenic areas and his filming experiences here, as though painting the empty period when we were apart with his colours.

MC: Kiro, do you like this place a lot?

Kiro: Mm, of course. I like it a lot. And now… I like it even more.

He turns to look directly at me. The cloudless sky is behind him, but the sky in his eyes are clear, and of an even brighter blue.

Kiro: What about you, Miss Chips? Do you like it?

Bathed under the sunlight, Kiro’s smile is tender. Yet, his eyes carry within them a certain seriousness.

MC: Mm, I like it too.

In that moment, the look in his eyes becomes even brighter, and he flashes me a wide smile.

Kiro: After dinner, I have a secret surprise for you!

MC: What surprise?

Kiro: I already called it a “secret”, so of course I’ll keep it to myself first!

He blinks at me slyly, carrying our luggage as he runs up the stairs. He stands at the top of the stairs and waves.

Kiro: Miss Chips, hurry up!

MC: Mm!

In the span of an afternoon, Kiro shows me around the entire village – from the large banyan tree at the door to the river’s thousand-year-old stone path.

We take time to appreciate the traditional textiles, and even eat delicious farm dishes…

Starlight appears in the distance. To city-dwellers, this means that the night has just begun. But to the people here, it means that it’s time to return home and rest.

In the distance, I hear tea women singing. In the midst of the song, I call out to the person who is in front of me.

MC: Kiro…

Kiro: What’s wrong? Are you tired?

MC: No, I’m just a little curious… is the “secret surprise” you mentioned very far from here?

Kiro: Not really. There, it’s on that mountain.

MC: Then why are we bringing a tent?

Kiro: That’s also a secret!

I can only pout and continue following him.

Kiro looks incredibly well-prepared. He’s carrying a tent on his back, a high-power flashlight in his hands. You can tell from a glance that you can’t buy these things from this town.

Even though he is usually bad with directions, he walks with light steps in the twilight, clearly familiar with this path. As for the small black bag he’s carrying… I stare at it with curiosity.

I should just anticipate the surprise he has prepared!

With this in mind, I smile, my footsteps becoming lighter as well.

MC: Kiro! Wait for me!

By the time the heat of the day ebbs away and the sky is lit up by a few stars, we have reached the foot of the mountain. I look at the stone steps in front of me, slightly shocked.

MC: I thought it would be an undeveloped steep mountain road…

Kiro: Hehe, bet you didn’t expect this! Also, this stone path has a legend tied to it.

MC: A legend?

Kiro: Legend says that in ancient times, there was a loving married couple. They agreed to go up this mountain to view the sea of flowers in Spring, the forests in Summer, the sunsets in Autumn, and the stars in Winter every year. But one day, the wife suffered from a grave injury and it became difficult for her to walk. So her husband built this mountain path by hand, so they could continue their agreement till they became old and grey. As we walk up this path, we could be walking in their same footsteps!

Kiro offers me his hand as he says this. Feeling playful, I hide my hand behind my back.

MC: I’m not the wife in the legend who needs support when walking.

Kiro is stunned for a moment, then he laughs.

Kiro: [laughing] All right, then let’s see how amazing this strong and healthy Miss Chips is!

MC: No problem! Let’s race to see who reaches that banyan tree first, how’s that!

Kiro: Does the winner get a prize?

MC: Hm… the person who loses has to fulfil the winner’s wish!

Kiro: Deal!

MC: Three, two, one, go!

With these words, we run up the stone steps. Responsible for carrying more items, Kiro trails behind me.

However, as the mountain path gets increasingly steep, I begin to lose steam.

MC: Huff… huff… another ten steps…

The distance between Kiro and I grows smaller, and I can almost hear his shallow breaths from behind.

With a sudden burst of energy, I release a shout and lunge forward.

MC: Three more… two more… I’ve reached! Victory!!

The moment I step on the top of the steps, I raise up both hands in celebration.

Soon after, Kiro also reaches the goal and gives me a high-five.

Kiro: Ah… I can’t believe I lost… congratulations to Miss Chips for being the champion! You can state your wish now!

MC: Hmm, I haven’t thought about it actually. I just said it in passing just now… is it okay if I save it for now?

Kiro: You’re so sly! I’m reluctantly agreeing, but I’m only extending the time-limit of making the wish to the end of today!

MC: Mm! I will give it serious thought!

After resting for a while, we continue up the path until we reach an empty plain.

Kiro hangs a light on a tree branch, casting the surroundings in brightness. He removes the tent from his back.

MC: I just realised that you planned this right from the start. This tent is big enough to host a party!

Kiro: Savin helped me pick it. He said the blackout tent is especially suitable for…

MC: [blushing] Suitable for what?

Kiro: Mm… you’ll know in a while. [laughing]

After setting up the tent, Kiro asks me to wait outside.

He takes the small black bag and enters the tent. After a while, he sticks his head out of the flap.

Kiro: Miss Chips, come in.

MC: Eh? Do you need help with anything?

Kiro doesn’t respond, but his eyes are crinkled, a secretive smile on his face as he looks at me. I can only play along with him, bending down and entering the tent.

MC: …it’s so dark! Why didn’t you turn the light on?

Right after the words leave my lips, a sea of stars appear before my eyes.

In the tent, countless little star-shaped lights flicker. It’s like magic. The warm yellow lights illuminate this space - a space belonging only to the two of us.

The source of the light is in his hands, and light is also reflected in his bright blue eyes.

MC: It’s beautiful… is this the surprise you wanted to give me?

Kiro hangs the final star lamp on the tent carefully. He lowers his head and answers my question.

Kiro: [cheeky laughter] This is more like the “appetizer” of the surprise. The “proper meal” is still on the mountaintop, and is even more beautiful than this!

MC: Mountaintop?

Kiro: Mm! There’s a banyan tree with long, winding vines that form an enclosed natural area. Last time, the film crew strung several lights similar to these on the vines, and it was so beautiful to look at in the night! After the filming was over, I specially asked them to keep the scene as it is, so that I could bring you there someday.

He takes a step towards me, offering me his hand.

Kiro: May I ask if Miss Chips is interested to go to “Kiro’s special, limited-time-only secret base” with me?

I nod my head vigorously and place my hand in his.

MC: Of course! I’m looking forward to it!

MC and Kiro carry on upwards but fail to notice that the clouds are grey and that it’s about to rain.

It starts pouring and they realise it would be too late before they can reach the tent. Kiro notes that the mountaintop doesn’t have shelter either, so they head to a nearby cave to seek shelter.

The cave isn’t very deep, but it’s dry. In a corner, there are traces of burnt candles and food offerings.

MC: Looks like this place was used by the villagers to worship the mountain god…

Kiro: Mountain god grandfather, I am grateful that you have lent us your cave so we can hide from the rain. If you can hear this, please give the rain god a call so that he can make the rain stop quickly!

Seeing Kiro putting his hands together and talking to the rock reverently makes me laugh.

Kiro: You’re laughing at me? I’m seriously praying here!

MC: I’m not laughing, I’m not laughing. I believe the rain god will soon get the call!

Despite what I said, the rain doesn’t seem to be letting up. I roll my slightly sore ankles and turn to look at Kiro.

MC: Why are you sitting down?!

Kiro: [sighs] The rain wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon, so why not take a break.

He is sitting down, leaning against the stone wall. He tosses a wave in my direction.

MC: That makes sense…

I move over to Kiro and prepare to sit down, but he spreads out his arms.

MC: What’s wrong?

Kiro: The floor is too cold! I think Miss Chips needs a warm cushion.

He looks at me with a straightforward expression, as though predicting that I would agree.

MC: In that case… you’re not allowed to complain that I’m heavy.

Kiro: I wouldn’t!

I walk towards his outstretched arms and carefully sit on his legs.

He holds my hand firmly with one hand, and takes up the star lamp in the other.

In the darkness of the night, the only source of light rests in between us.

Fine speckles of light adorn the sturdy rock, the trees that are drenched outside, and both of our eyes.

I see my own reflection in Kiro’s eyes – there is a little panic, a little embarrassment, and a little shyness.

To calm my rapidly beating heart, I break the peaceful and silent atmosphere.

MC: Mm… I wonder when the rain would stop…

As my words leave my lips, I tell myself: “Oh no”.

Sure enough, Kiro’s eyes dim, and the smile originally on his lips turn downwards.

Kiro: [pouting] I should have checked the weather forecast…

Looking at his downcast expression, I try to comfort him.

MC: Today has already been a very happy one for me. So it doesn’t matter even if I can’t see the lights on the banyan trees.

Kiro: But…

He shakes his head, bending forward to wrap me in his arms. The tips of his hair brush my cheeks, and his breath carries with it the dampness of the rain.

Kiro: I’m sorry, Miss Chips.

Hearing the despondent voice coming from the head buried in my shoulder, I suddenly feel a heaviness in my heart.

MC: …why do you have to apologise?

Kiro: I ruined this whole thing… I wanted to have a “Tidbit Eating Showdown” with you, but it can’t happen because of me. And then I wanted to give you a romantic surprise, but because of the rain… Miss Chips, I don’t want to disappoint you. I want every single one of our dates to be perfect.

The melancholy, regret, and resoluteness in his tone makes me hold him tightly.

MC: I think our dates are already perfect.

Kiro: [sighs and sniffs] Miss Chips…

MC: Because… there’s me, there’s you, and there’s nothing missing.

I straighten up and look into his eyes as we sit under the starlight.

MC: We rode a tractor, visited every corner of the village, raced up the mountain, and even hid from the rain using the mountain god’s turf. This isn’t just an interesting date - it’s an extraordinarily interesting one!

MC: Come to think of it, it seems like every time I’m with you, we have these unexpected yet memorable special experiences!

MC: So perhaps that starry scene at the banyan tree is an invitation letter to our next “perfect date”!

Clearly not expecting what I just said, he blinks at me in a daze.

Kiro: Miss Chips, are you truly happy today?

MC: Yes! Oh, I thought about what my prize should be from that earlier competition.

I reach out to place my hands on both sides of Kiro’s mouth, then tug upwards gently.

MC: I want to see Kiro’s signature smile!

We maintain this comical position while looking at each other. My reflection in his eyes contains a serious expression and also a hint of stubborn silliness.

At first, Kiro is stunned. His eyes seem to have harnessed all the light from the lamp.

Even without my assistance, Kiro smiles automatically.

--It’s a smile that belongs to him, and a smile that he shows only to me. No matter when, or whatever happens, Kiro’s smile always brings me warmth and strength.

Kiro: Oh!

As though suddenly realizing something, he raises his pinky finger towards me with a brilliant smile.

Kiro: Do you remember the promise we made last year at the Spring festival?

MC: Of course I remember. You said… that you would be with me in the future.

Kiro: Not quite. It’s that I would be with you forever. But this time, let’s add on to the promise.

MC: Add on?

I hesitantly hook my pinky finger with his, and the place where our fingers link is a place where a tiny star-shaped speckle of light happens to be.

Kiro: The promise I want to add on is that I would not only be with you forever, but I will always be happy when I’m with you!

MC: Mm! Me too!

Kiro: It’s a promise! This is the mountain god’s turf, so he will be our witness!

I nod my head vigorously.

His voice melds together with the lights in the cave.

Kiro: Miss Chips, look. The rain has stopped.

🌧

Call after the date: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc kiro #here's a tranquil date so we can all calm down from the Ch 37 PV release

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tcheschirewrites · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, are you participating in NaNoWriMo? Have you ever? And what was your experience like? I'm considering it but I feel so intimidated because I know I won't be able to commit to it wholeheartedly. Lowering my expectations and pacing myself would seem like the perfect solution but work kills my creative brain cells by the seconds. I wouldn't be surprised if by the end of November I've only written half of page of alien language. Any advice? Also does Nano have to be a new project?

Oh man, Nano. I’m well familiar with Nano, and I’ve participated a few times (to varying degrees of success). This got very long, so I’m putting a cut.

The first time I attempted Nano was in 2006 for my novel Seerking. I had heard about it from a friend who was in an LJRP I was in, and she encouraged me to try it. I was still in high school at the time, and very frankly I did not have the dedication necessary to complete it. I got a lot of worldbuilding complete, but very little writing. I got about two pages of prose, and three notebooks of character and setting history, as well as a fairly detailed outline. I still have all of this.

The second time I attempted was in 2009, for a story that is based heavily on the Iron&Wine song ‘Boy With a Coin’. I got a little bit further, but I got stuck in a few places. I think it’s because my idea was bigger than my life experience, and I also got stuck in a lot of small details. Additionally, my first Word document (where I got about two chapters in?) was destroyed when my laptop’s hard drive just straight gave up on life - I did buck up and rewrite quite a bit, though it didn’t sing quite the same notes, and I have this handwritten copy still. (It’s possible I tried again with this same project the year after? I don’t remember tbvh)

My third attempt was in 2011, about a goverment operative and a faun. This one I got the furthest, and I still have the original handwritten draft and the typed copy. I pantsed this one, 100%. To this day, I still don’t know how this story ends, but I’d love to attempt a rewrite someday.

Then, unfortunately, from around 2012 until Fall of last year, I stopped writing period. I was in a real bad situation, and just didn’t have the energy for anything, let alone a novel. My most recent experience with Nano as an organization was Camp Nano, which is a much looser structure, and it is in May and July. Rather than the hard and fast 50k, you set your own goal when you announce your project.

I can understand your hesitance to participate, honestly. Nano is a beast of a project – to reach the minimum goal of 50k in the 30 allotted days, you have to produce 1667 words of new content every single day. This is approximately 3 pages, maybe a little more – which is a lot when you’re already stressed! And if you miss a day you have to adjust your daily totals for every following day, and the pressure starts to mount! It’s a lot, even if it is only meant to be a neat little challenge (mostly, I’ll cover benefits a bit later).

Now, my recommendations are going to follow two paths: planning, and pantsing. If you are naturally a planner – that is, you like having rough outlines, refined outlines, you like having character data, history, etc – then I recommend you have as much of your novel planned ahead of time before November 1st hits. Whatever notes or files you need to have set aside before you begin writing those first words, have them ready – read over them, refine them, and have them memorized front to back so that you know what your story is meant to be. If you are a natural planner, and you have not done this by today’s date (it’s 30 October where I am), then I do not recommend participating this year because it will stress you the fuck out and you might even make yourself sick.

The other popular option is called pantsing – essentially, you have a rough idea, and you’re flying by the seat of your pants. (This is literally what it is called on the Nano website, by the by – there are badges for it and everything.) If you are a pantser, then I still recommend a little preparation, but of a wildly different degree and type: find your story’s ambiance. If you are a pantser, think about what sparked the idea for your story? Try to put yourself back in the place (emotionally or physically) where you had the most intense version of the idea, and hang onto that feeling with both hands. This is incredibly important, because it will allow you to harken back to that feeling without chasing the high of first being hit by that feeling. If you are a pantser, focus heavily on the feelings you want to evoke with your story, and let your heart guide you.

Now the third option (I know what I said, I lied all right) is if you are a combination planner-pantser; you don’t want to have the rigidity of the outline, but you also like having a little bit of structure, or at least a direction to go in. If you are a combination planner-pantser, I recommend doing very soft preparation for yourself in the week leading up to Nano. So things like building yourself a playlist, maybe doodle what your main looks like in your head, or small details like character names and short dossiers. If you’re able, I recommend coming up with an ending, so you know what the end-goal looks like and you are able to track your story’s completion in your head.

For all three, I would recommend deciding ahead of time how you want to write your novel – are you going to type it up in a word processor (please make so many backups, do not live the heartache that I had to)? Are you going old school and hand writing it? Are you feeling like a boss that day and maybe want to dictate it into an app on your phone? Pick one, and make a dedicated space for your novel. You can mix them up, certainly, but make sure that you are able to consolidate effectively or you’re going to stress yourself out.

Now, you asked whether or not it has to be a “new” project. There are actually a few answers to this, depending on what you mean. Now, if we are to assume that “new” strictly means a brand new, fresh idea that you have just come up with specifically for National Novel Writer’s Month 2020, then the answer is no; it does not. Back in the day, there were a few purists that insisted you had to have a designated project every year, but like most purists, they’re just being assholes about it.

As a matter of fact, it does not even have to be a brand new project that you have not written any words for at all – however, if you do have an idea that you have already written for, you are not permitted to use any of your previous word count toward your goal. This is definitely a no-no. Personally, I’ve tried this, and I found it rough – I liked having the designated project, and I liked the buildup to it.

If you have, though, an idea that you’ve worked over and you are simply ready to start putting words on a page, this, I think, is Nano’s sweet spot.

Now, I know most of this 1000+ answer has been cautioning and reminders that Nano is tough – because, well, it is. It is a huge undertaking, and I feel like every participant has their horror stories to tell about their experience. But I want to reassure you that it isn’t 100% a hard slog to a dreary end; there are so many tools that Nano themselves provide you, as well as user-run communities and workshops, and even some benefits after the fact. These are the things I want to wrap this post up with.

Firstly, no matter how tired or stressed you are, if you register for nanowrimo.org, you’ll begin receiving daily emails from published authors and past participants. These range from silly and tedious, to incredibly comforting. My favorite one, which I cannot remember a lot of specifics from, was from a man who detailed his experience and reassured everyone that the work doesn’t have to be good – it just has to be 50k words. That’s it. You can have typos and errors all over the place, plot holes of all shapes and sizes, and a main character who doesn’t make any sense at all; it doesn’t matter, because the point of the event is simply to finish. Neil Gaiman has also said a time or two that your first draft’s only purpose is to exist. Just get the words out; you can fix them later.

Additionally, when you are completing your profile, you can enter in your location and there are designated forums for participants in your area. In the past, there have been meetups for group-writes and workshops as well, though I imagine they will be more along the lines of Discord calls this year. If you are a social person who needs a pair of eyes to help you work through a scene, Nano’s got your back. They will also send you statistics for your area for the average word count, daily word count, past winners, etcetera. It can sometimes feel like you are very alone during this difficult project, but a lot of these things bring a very human element to the event.

Finally, what comes after you have completed. A lot of these benefits are newer than my time, but I browsed through them when I did my Camp Project. When you complete the goal in the allotted time, you get a neat little badge for your webpage and a printable certificate for the immediate boost of dopamine. But you will also get discounts to some neat shit, like different word processing applications (I got 50% off of Scrivener when I finished Camp), as well as things like The Great Courses, discounts in the swag store, etc. But more than that, there are partnering websites who want to help you on the road to being published. Wattpad is in this group, but I believe also big name publishers (I might have seen Penguin on there at one point) are willing to work with winners to get their works distributed.

All that said, I recommend every writer attempt Nano at least once in their writing career. Even if I personally have not done so stellar in the past, it is a fantastic learning experience for all of the work that goes into producing a novel from start to finish – it forces you to know your limits, and sometimes to overcome them. I don’t think I will be participating this year – I have so many side projects that I want to get done, but I will very likely drop everything to do it next year. I have two novels that are real roughly built up that I could do for this, though, and I would love the dedicated time to spend on them.

#asked and answered jim #red-write-district #writeblr #writing advice #nanowrimo #i'm actually really fond of every nano project i've ever done #even if i didn't finish any of them #i still go back and read them sometimes #and i still have a lot of like plot details in my head for them

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noona-clock · 5 years ago

Text

The Risk - Part 2

Genre: Fighter!AU

Pairing: Park Seo Joon x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 | Words: 3,430

Well. That had certainly been an interesting evening.

Besides the fact you had served a group of seven almost-too-rowdy guys for two hours, you had received an extremely generous tip from one of those almost-too-rowdy guys.

And... a phone number.

You’d been working at this restaurant for two years, and while you had received a couple of phone numbers before, the giver had never actually asked you before leaving it.

He had also never been as good-looking as this Park Seo Joon guy.

Seriously, this guy was amazingly good-looking. You’d noticed it when you’d first gone to his table, of course, and he had seemed to only get more handsome as the evening went on.

And when he asked if he could leave his phone number?! You kind of felt like you were on a hidden camera prank show or something...

But being incredibly handsome and leaving very bountiful tips was all well and good. Did that mean you would actually contact him?

Since his table had been your last of the evening, you were able to take time on the bus ride home to really and truly think about it.

You certainly weren’t the type to call or text random guys if they gave you their phone numbers. If you did decide to contact Seo Joon, it would be a first.

Then again, you couldn’t remember a guy as handsome -- quite frankly, hot -- as Seo Joon giving you his number. To say you weren’t the least bit interested in him would be a lie. You couldn’t see a face like that and not be interested. Or at least physically attracted.

(You were both.)

Just before the bus arrived at your stop, you remembered one of the other guys at his table had said something at the very beginning of the night. They had been celebrating something, and he had specifically gestured to Seo Joon and called him a winner.

He had won... what was it again? An AMA championship? AMM? AAM? MAA?

The bus rolled to a stop, and with a sigh, you clutched the strap of your bag and stood up to get off.

Whatever it had been, he had won a championship, and they had been celebrating.

But... wait. Hadn’t that guy also kind of acted like he was surprised you didn’t know who Seo Joon was?

Well, there was only one thing you could do if that was the case: you had to Google him.

As soon as you unlocked the door to your apartment, hung your bag up in the entryway, and kicked off your shoes, you shuffled into your bedroom and collapsed onto your bed. You then wasted no time in sliding your phone out of your pocket and opening the Google app.

“Park... Seo... Joon,” you muttered to yourself as you typed his name in the search bar. “Go.”

The first result was a Wikipedia article, and your eyebrows raised.

Oh. There was a Wikipedia article about him? That was pretty legit, right?

You clicked on the link, your eyes scanning over the summary at the top of the page. “Park Seo Joon is the current World MMA Champion -- MMA, that’s it! He began his career in 2015 and quickly made his way to the number one ranked spot where he has remained ever since. Damn. Number one?”

So... in this MMA thing, he was the best? Out of everyone else?

Well, how many other people were there? And what exactly was MMA?

You opened up another search tab on Google and typed in MMA, though it didn’t take long for you to discern it was an acronym for Mixed Martial Arts.

Oh. So, he was a fighter.

Well, to be honest, that wasn’t exactly something to recommend him. You disliked violence of any kind, and the sight of blood made you feel incredibly faint.

You kept digging, however, because the whole thing had still piqued your curiosity.

On the official MMA organization website, you were able to find out that there were over 1,000 fighters around the world, and the last World Championship had been in Los Angeles... with over 50,000 people in attendance and over 1 million people watching on TV.

Holy...

You quickly navigated back to his Wikipedia page and scrolled down, scanning through his background and memorable moments in the ring, though your eyes instantly froze when they landed on a picture of him after winning one of his matches.

Because he was shirtless.

And...

Oh my god.

You... had never seen a better body in your entire life.

After realizing you were staring at your phone screen with your jaw hanging wide open, you blinked yourself out of your little trance and went back to Google one more time.

You clicked on the Images tab and began to scroll through all of his picture results.

And your eyes grew wider by the second.

Shirtless. Shirtless. Gold medal. Championship. Trophy. Shirtless. Gold Medal. Shirtless with gold medal. Trophy. Championship. Trophy. Trophy.

Holy shit.

So... this guy was definitely a big deal.

And you just had one question.

And you now felt bad for him. Whether or not he would admit it, he was a big deal, and most of the people in his life probably treated him that way. Based on his words, though, he would likely prefer to be treated like a normal, regular, non-championship-winning guy.

If you hadn’t been nosy and Googled him just now, he would still be a normal, regular, non-championship-winning guy to you.

So... if he wanted to be treated that way, then you would be the one to do it.

You ended up messaging back and forth until you physically couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer, and this pattern continued on for the next week. You would text Seo Joon the second you got off work, and you would keep texting until you had to force yourself to go to sleep.

You didn’t really talk about anything in particular, to be honest. He mainly asked you how your day went, and then the two of you would end up talking about something completely random like the best form of potato (which is clearly cut into long, thin strips and fried) or the movie you would forever connect to your childhood or what strange, nonsensical dreams you had the previous night.

Since you got home fairly late each night and were too exhausted to stay up past midnight, you simply hadn’t had time to delve into anything deeper. You were having fun talking to him, though, and you figured he must feel the same way since he always replied within minutes.

When your shift ended that Friday, you began your evening as you had the last five or six days: you got on the bus, found your seat, slid your phone out of your bag, and sent Seo Joon a text.

His next message, however, was less typical.

Once you’d gotten off the bus and fished into your bag for the key to your apartment, you sent Seo Joon a quick message letting him know you were home. He read the message almost immediately, but... he didn’t reply.

Your brow furrowed softly as you approached your front door, blindly trying to fit the key into the lock as your eyes still focused on your phone screen.

A phone call suddenly came through, and you almost jumped because you were so startled. But then you realized... it was Seo Joon?

Hesitantly, you answered the call and lifted your phone up to your ear.

“Hello?” Your heart was now beating a mile a minute, and your stomach did a little flip when you heard him answer you back.

“Hey,” he said before quickly adding, “I know you said you don’t like talking on the phone, but I didn’t want to do this over text.”

“...Do what?”

“Are you free tomorrow night?”

Oh, god.

You quickly wracked your brain for your work schedule, and you almost let out an audible sigh of relief when you realized you were, indeed, free.

“Yes,” you answered breathlessly.

“Would you wanna go out?”

“Yes,” you repeated without skipping a beat.

“Okay, great. We don’t have to keep talking on the phone.”

You broke out into a smile, a soft chuckle escaping through your lips. “Okay,” you answered. “But I appreciate that you wanted to ask me kind of but not really in person. Thank you.”

You could actually hear Seo Joon smile (which was a little weird since you hadn’t known you could hear a smile but whatever), and when he spoke, his grin was very apparent in his voice. “You’re welcome. You... don’t want to keep talking on the phone, do you?”

“It’s really nothing personal,” you assured him, realizing you were still just standing on your doormat with your key inside the lock... but you hadn’t actually turned it.

You snapped to attention suddenly, hastily unlocking your door and stepping inside your apartment.

“I’m just an introvert,” you continued. “And shy. I’d rather have time to process my thoughts and write a reply back to you so I don’t say something I’ll cringe about for the next forty years because I didn’t have time to think it through.”

“I can understand that,” Seo Joon laughed softly. “All right, I’ll hang up now.”

“Bye,” you said as you hung your bag up on the coat rack in your entryway.

You heard Seo Joon take a breath, and you waited to hear him say goodbye back... but then...

“Just so you know, it’s really nice to hear your voice. Okay, bye.”

Click.

And your heart exploded.

Not even a minute after Seo Joon had hung up, he had texted you, telling you he would take you to any restaurant you wanted -- all you had to do was name the place, and that’s where your date would be.

Of course, you had internally freaked out (in a good way) because he had called it a date and now there was no uncertainty. You hadn’t thought he was just asking you to hang out, but still. It was nice to know for sure.

You had sent him the name of your favorite pizza place, one you didn’t get a chance to go to that often because -- well, you didn’t get a chance to eat out that often. Your schedule and budget didn’t quite allow it. But you’d refrained from including those particular details in your message to him.

Seo Joon had offered to pick you up, but you ended up convincing him to just meet you there -- he had only agreed on the condition that he could take you home, and you had accepted easily enough.

So, the next evening, you found yourself arriving at the pizza place just a few minutes before your agreed-upon meeting time. When you walked in through the front door of the restaurant, you were prepared to greet the host and let him know you were waiting for someone... but Seo Joon was already sitting on one of the couches next to the front podium.

“Hey,” he greeted, his lips curving into a smile.

You never would have guessed that one single word -- a word as simple as ‘hey’ -- would knock the breath out of your lungs.

But when it came from someone as incredibly tall, handsome, and buff as Seo Joon... it wasn’t that surprising just one word from him left you breathless.

“Hi,” you replied after gulping down a lump of anxiety in your throat.

Before the two of you could exchange any more conversation, the host grabbed two menus and led you back to one corner of the restaurant, seating you at a small booth for two. You murmured your thanks, and Seo Joon waited until you slid into one side of the booth before taking his seat across from you.

“How are you?” Seo Joon asked just as you opened the menu.

Oh, right. That would have been polite to ask. Apparently, seeing Seo Joon in person again had turned your brain to mush.

“I’m fine,” you answered, glancing up at him with a small grin. Which... was a mistake. The glancing, not the grin.

He was just so handsome, it was intimidating. You truly had no idea why he would be interested in you. Your looks were not model-worthy while his definitely were.

“How are you?” you asked, trying to avoid eye contact so you wouldn’t stammer over your words or say something idiotic.

“I’m great,” he replied with a soft chuckle. “Just been training all week.”

“Oh? Do you have a... match? Coming up? Is that what they’re called?”

“No, not for about a month,” he told you with a tiny smirk.

“But I guess you always have to train,” you pointed out.

Seo Joon nodded, and you glanced up again to see he was now perusing the menu.

Oh, god. He was just so... so... so perfect. You had thought so earlier this week when you’d seen him at your restaurant, but you hadn’t really understood. You hadn’t imagined you would ever in a million years go on a date with him, so you hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it.

But now... sitting across from him... watching him read a freakin’ menu...

All of a sudden, you felt the word vomit bubbling up, making its way up your throat until it spilled from your lips.

“I’m really sorry,” you blurted out. “About when I first texted you and said you were a big deal and all that and questioning why you would want to give me your number.”

Seo Joon’s brows raised slightly and he shifted his gaze to look at you.

“Oh,” he began, his voice soft and somewhat confused. “Oh, no, it’s -- it’s okay.”

“I had just Googled you,” you explained. “So, I read about all of your accomplishments, and you’re just, like, really handsome, so I was just wondering why you would be interested in me. But, to be honest, I would still have been questioning it even if you were like... a grocery store clerk or something.”

Seo Joon chuckled lightly and set down his menu so he could see you better. “What are you even talking about?” he asked with an expression of amusement.

“I’m talking about your face,” you answered bluntly. “Your face is really nice.”

Unexpectedly, Seo Joon’s cheeks began to turn pink, and he quickly looked away from you as his lips formed into a shy, adorable smile.

Oh, wow. You never imagined he could be this adorable. Plus, the fact he was acting so shy spurred on your more playful, teasing side, so you said, “I’m serious! You’re definitely, one-hundred-percent, the best-looking guy I’ve ever been out with.”

Seo Joon shook his head, and you assured him one more time that it was most certainly the truth.

“How about we talk about you?” he requested with a soft laugh. “I can’t just Google you and find out all about you.”

“This is true,” you replied with a soft sigh. “But even if you could Google me, the result would be, like... one link. I’m really quite average.”

Before Seo Joon could reply, your server appeared to take your drink orders, and you ended up ordering a large pepperoni pizza, as well.

“How about you let me be the judge of that?” Seo Joon said once the server had left to go place your order.

“All right,” you chuckled. “Well, you know I work at a restaurant. I’ve been working there for two years, ever since I started Grad School.”

“Grad School?” Seo Joon repeated with raised eyebrows. “What are you studying?”

“Creative Writing. I got my Bachelor’s degree in Literature, but then I realized I actually liked writing more than reading.”

Seo Joon shot you a look which clearly said you were wrong. “Two university degrees is not average,” he told you with a small shake of his head.

You simply hid a grin and lifted your shoulders into a shrug.

“I mean,” Seo Joon continued. “Some people don’t even have one college degree, and you’re getting another one? That’s a big deal.”

A soft chuckle escaped through your nose, but before you could say anything in reply, someone else approached your table. You thought it was the server again, but when you looked up, you realized... you had no idea who it was. It was some random lady and a young boy with a very awestruck look in his eyes.

“Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you,” the lady began, looking incredibly guilty with a deeply furrowed brow. “My son is a huge fan, and he was wondering if he could...?”

Seo Joon quickly looked over at you, and you returned with a little nod and a grin.

This was weird.

You’d never in your life experienced this before, and it was weird. Kind of cool, actually, but still weird.

Seo Joon’s lips transformed into a smile then, and he reached for the pen and paper in the young boy’s hand. “Of course,” he murmured. “What’s your name?”

“Jonathan,” the boy answered. “I want to be just like you when I grow up.”

“Just train hard and you can be,” Seo Joon answered as he scribbled his name on the piece of paper.

After he handed it back to the boy, the mother then held up her phone. “Can we get a picture, too?”

“Absolutely,” Seo Joon murmured, and the boy stepped up to him, turning around to face his mom.

The lady snapped a couple of pictures, and they both thanked Seo Joon profusely before the boy practically skipped back to his table.

“You just said getting two degrees was a big deal, but I’m not the one with fans,” you said quietly, a smirk tugging at one corner of your lips.

“Sorry,” Seo Joon replied with a guilty smile.

“No, it’s fine, I didn’t mind at all. Does... that happen a lot?”

“Not really a lot, but... maybe twice a week?

“Compared to me who has been asked a grand total of zero times for an autograph and a picture, that’s a lot,” you laughed.

“Anyway,” Seo Joon grinned. “Back to you. You’re studying creative writing?”

“Yeah, so I won’t really be making much more money than I am now as a server, but...”

“But you love it.”

A soft smile appeared on your lips, and you lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Yeah, I love it.”

“I can tell,” Seo Joon declared with a somewhat curious look.

“Is that so?”

He nodded, crossing his arms over the tabletop and leaning toward you. “I can tell by the look in your eyes. The way you look when you’re talking about it is the way I feel about fighting.”

Obviously, you were now blushing like mad because Seo Joon was looking right into your eyes. But you still managed to speak somewhat normally when you said, “So, you’re one of the lucky ones, then.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You’re good at what you love to do.”

“Well,” he began after taking a bit of a deep breath. “It’s always come pretty easily to me. When I first stepped into a martial arts studio, it just felt... natural. So, I kept on doing it. I guess I really just love it because it’s easy... which makes me sound like an incredibly lazy loser.”

“It doesn’t,” you assured him with a laugh. “I don’t know if I’ve ever met someone who truly loves hard work and making an effort at something. We all like things to be easy.”

Seo Joon looked at you for a moment, and it got to a point where you almost began to squirm in your seat under his gaze. But then he broke the silence and said, “You know what else is easy?”

“Hmm?” you hummed with raised eyebrows.

“Talking to you.”

You had no idea you needed to let out a breath, but that’s exactly what you did after he said that.

“Actually... I feel the same way,” you replied.

And you were a little surprised to discover that was true. You were shy, and meeting new people was always a bit of a struggle for you.

But talking to Seo Joon? You realized you weren’t trying as hard as you usually needed to. You didn’t feel quite so awkward or like you were saying the wrong thing.

It was... Well, you weren’t quite sure what it was. But you were willing to keep working to find out.

Part 3

#kwritersworldnet #park seo joon scenarios #park seo joon imagines #park seo joon au #park seo joon fluff #park seo joon fanfic #kdrama scenarios #kdrama imagines #kdrama au #kdrama fluff #kdrama fanfic #kdrama actor #park seo joon #park seo jun

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troped-fanfic-challenge · 4 years ago

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AUTHOR REVEAL of the JATP ROUND 3: CANONVERSE FICS!

The Tropes:

Secret Places

Neighbors

First Kiss

Time Jump

————

Just say you won't let go (Rated G) [Julie/Luke] by @fanfics-she-wrote

Summary: Hey, Julie

You're the heart and soul 'round here, it's plain to see

in which Julie has a second chance with her boys, and then another

we will fight to shine together (bright forever) (Rated G) [Bright Lighting Guy/Rob from the Orpheum] by @screamin-amuseum

Summary: “Hey,” Chris says, walking up to the boy. “What are you doing?”

“Oh,” he puts the dandelions down and stands up. “Hi. I’m trying to make a flower crown, but I don’t remember how.”

“Cool. I’m Chris, I live--” he points to his house. “Over there.”

The boy gives him a lopsided smile. “I’m Rob. I’m staying with my grandparents for the summer.”

or: the rob/bright lighting guy fic literally nobody asked for but i wrote anyways. enjoy gays, bring ur tissues

what happened when (Rated G) [Alex/Luke] by @janaikam

Summary: Before Julie and the Phantoms, before the guys became ghosts, before Sunset Curve -- they were Luke and Alex. Not 5 feet apart cause they're totally gay.

who cares if one more light goes out? (in a sky of a million stars) (Rated T) [Ray/Rose] by @tonightthestarsalign

or: The first and the last time Ray ever kissed Rose.

we can forget the world (just you and me) (Rated T) [Alex/Willie] by @sunsetcurbed

Summary: “This was the first place I ever came out to someone,” Alex says, spinning around and taking in the tree house.

together we can take on the world (Rated G) [Alex/Reggie] by @comeonpeters

The Peters family moves in down the street from the Mercers in 1983, and so begins the rest of their lives.

Long Live (Can I start another life with you?) (Rated T) [Julie/Luke] by @smolfangirl

Summary: It’s all too much for one day: first a muffin, then more heartbeats. Julie just needs some time to think. If Luke runs after her to sit by her side so she doesn’t lose it, she won’t complain.

Except afterwards, he starts acting weird. Very weird. And months later, she’s tired of letting him keep his distance.

She can’t do this. Not right now. Not today.

She jumps back on her feet.

The excited grin falls from Luke’s face. She doesn’t try to catch it.

“I – I think this is too much. I need some time. Alone. Sorry.”

Then she runs. She runs past the calloused fingers reaching out to her. Past Reggie and the door, past carved pumpkins on porches and Cornelia Street.

She just runs.

Roses (Rated G) [Emily & Luke, Alex/Luke] by @americanhoney913

Somewhere Only We Know (Rated T) [Nick/Carrie] by hufflebibin

Summary: Nick Danforth-Evans met Julie Molina when he was six years old. He had no idea how much an impact that afternoon would have on his life.

___

A journey through Nick Danforth-Evan’s life as experienced in the safety of his backyard hide away.

The Itty Bitty Details (Rated T) [Alex/Willie] by @williexmercer & @futurearchaeologyprof

Summary: “Did I forget to mention William, I also get your soul,”

Willie could feel a stinging feeling and a purple stamp appeared on his hand. When the stamp appeared he could no longer remember who Alex was. The name meant nothing to Willie now.

Or 5 times Willie knew Alex and one where Alex knew Willie

you’re the only one who makes me (my wildflower) (Rated T) [Bobby/Reggie] by @willexxmercer

Summary: The tree was Reggie’s safe space, and Bobby was his safe person. He could escape all his troubles there, except for one nagging thought - did he have feelings for his best friend?

Dying complicated things.

because i’ve known you so long, i know every cadence and what they mean (Rated G) [Alex & Julie, Julie/Luke] by @tmp-jatp

Summary: Alex and Julie have always lived right next to each other. Through highs and lows, they grow up together. Also, 5 times Luke kisses Julie and it doesn’t count plus 1 time Julie kisses Luke and it does count.

Alternatively, the Juke 5+1 fic from Alex’s POV. Strap in, folks.

Someday (I’ll See You Again) (Rated T) [Alex/Willie] by @kybee1497

The Energy Never Dies (Rated T) [Gen Fic] by @americanhoney913

Summary: Well, I ain't always right, but I've never been wrong

Seldom turns out the way it does in a song

Once in a while, you get shown the light

In the strangest of places if you look at it right

--- Scarlet Begonias, Grateful Dead

Four moments across time in the loft of the Molina's garage.

————

All the Winners can be found here.

We hope you enjoy these fics from our fabulous Fantoms! Make sure to leave kudos and comments to show them some love! And don’t forget, if you missed the initial writing deadline you can still submit your fics to our Non-Anon Collection at any time! Thank you all so much for participating this round! Now that winners and authors have been revealed feel free to post about your fics, create artwork for it, if you like, and don’t forget to tag us!

We hope you all will join us for the FINAL Round of the TROPED: JATP Event!!!! The prompt drops at Midnight tonight!

#troped: jatp #round 3: canonverse #jatp fanfiction #author reveal

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forestwater87 · 5 years ago

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Tales of Fandom Past: Harry Potter and the Shipping Slaves

So, in my spare time I read a lot, lot . . . lot of fandom_wank. A lot. More than should be possible, considering it’s a dead website linking mostly to other dead websites, but I’m a woman addicted to drama who has the gift of long periods of quiet at work, so I’m working my way through almost 2 decades of fan history and it’s just fascinating.

Fandom, back in the ‘00s? Was so much more wild than it is now.

Plagiarism! Fake suicides! Fraud! Theft of real people’s actual money! Stalkers, both real and made up! Fanfic writers so popular they finagled it into mountains of free stuff and a book deal! Everyone was really gross and homophobic!

There were no rules, and that made it a terrible and incredibly fun time to be part of a fandom.

And we’re not talking enough about it. I guess that’s where I come in.

I’m interested in telling these stories -- not in the incredible level of detail of the MsScribe Saga or the Cassie Claire Plagiarism Debacle, but enough for us to all have a moment to think: Hold on, what the fuck was fandom doing during the entirety of the Bush administration?

A lot, it turns out. Much of it totally wild.

Today’s topic: Shipping wars are as bad as slavery

Date: August 2005

Fandom: Harry Potter

Supposed topic(s): Shipping, canon

Content warning(s): Accidental and ironic diminishing of slavery, complaints about political correctness and free speech, racism in general, lots of hurt feelings and drama

"Now, I'm not black, but boy, do I feel for the black people. If I lived in the 1800's, I wouldn't keep slaves, and if someone has a difference of opinion than me now, that's fine, believe what you want."

Background

In August of 2005, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince had been out for a little less than a month, the film version of The Goblet of Fire wouldn’t come out until November, and the last Potter movie had been released over a year ago. In terms of shipping, fans had just discovered, to either their delight or horror, that Harry/Ginny and Ron/Hermione were canon; while some would continue to hold out hope that there would be a last-minute reversal of expectations, most of the fandom both on and off the internet was in agreement:

The shipping wars were over, and the Harry/Hermione fans (a.k.a., H/Hr fen, or “Harmonians”) had decisively lost.

The Harmonians’ ire seemed to have been pretty evenly split between J.K. Rowling -- who they felt had let them down -- and the R/Hr and H/G shippers (a.k.a. “Herons” and “Chocolateers,” respectively, though I’m not sure anyone actually used those terms for themselves; they appear to have been given from without), who were taking a victory lap. Depending on one’s perspective, this was either a long-overdue celebration by two groups of shippers who’d faced the fandom’s ire for approximately 5 years and were now vindicated, or it was the tactless gloating of sore losers who were thrilled to get one over on their hated enemies. Either way, tensions were no lower just because canon had decided the victors, and the battleground seemed to shift from the books to the movies -- where shippers of all kinds were in debate over which romance would win out onscreen.

Enter Emerson Spartz, a teenager in charge of one of the most popular fansites at the time and king of creating controversy . . . who had very strong opinions about shipping, and Harmonians in particular.

The Inciting Incident

Emerson had already incited the ire of Harmonians by calling them “delusional” in an infamous interview with J.K. Rowling. The wound was still raw, having come shortly after the release of Half-Blood Prince, and in some circles Emerson was already Public Enemy #1.

Therefore, when Emerson was one of two “anti”-Harmonians interviewed in a San Francisco Chronicle article about the shipping wars, some fans cried foul.

More responses can be found in a summary of the incident here, but personal favorites include a letter sent to the author of the SF Chronicle piece:

The majority of Harry/Hermione shippers are not merely upset that we didn't get what we wanted in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. That makes us sound childish. While I'm forced to admit that there has been much bile and vitriol posted on various H/Hr shipping sites, the majority of us are reasonable people. What really hurt our feelings was the way the Mugglenet/TLC article made it seem as if J. K. Rowling herself felt we were really dense, missing her "anvil-sized clues." Emerson's subsequent "apology" for the harsh words directed at the Harry/Hermione 'shipper community was a non-apology, which you [the author of the SFC article] would have known if you had done more than just take his word that he apologized. He simply used the "apology" as an opportunity to issue another dig. I suppose not much better can be expected from a child of 18 who has suddenly become a bit of a celebrity. But I do expect better from a colleague; a professional writer. ...

You have assisted one side of the argument and failed to represent the other. Did you attempt to interview the webmasters of any Harry/Hermione shipping sites or did you merely cut and paste posts that were pointed out to you by Emerson and Melissa? Your article shows no evidence that you made any attempt to give the other side equal time, so to speak, and as a result, you have contributed to the perceprtion [sic] that ALL H/Hr 'shippers are irrational, bitter, spoiled brats. And that's quite unfair. (Hughes, 2005, paras. 13 & 18)

Or this comment in a Harmonian forum by a disappointed reader:

History is written by the victorius [sic] (or something like that), isn't it how the saying goes?. I'm afraid we are witnessing it firsthand. Herons feel they are the winners on this war, and as such, they feel they have a right to treat us anyway they want to, and they think we have no weapons to defend ourselves since even J.K seems to have sided with them. Even if most of us are pretty reasonable people, at this point anything we say in regards of J.K's apparent disregard for our feelings (thoughts, opinions, whatever), will be gladly taken as the lashing out of sore losers. ::sigh:: I say, just ignore Emerson, he's just some lost kid desperate for attention. And how good can the guy who wrote this article be if he didn't bother to check the facts before he went slandering us?, not much me thinks. (Remolina, 2005, para. 21)

These responses, while perhaps silly or overblown, were not enough to make history. That honor belonged to a Harmonian going by the username Panther.

How, one might wonder?

The Blowout

Ya know, come to think of it, people like Emerson were probably the kinda people that started slavery. I mean, think about it, they thought the slaves were animals, just because they had different colored skin. Emerson thinks we're stupid and delusional for having different beliefs. Get the similarities here, people? Now, I'm not black, but boy, do I feel for the black people. If I lived in the 1800's, I wouldn't keep slaves, and if someone has a difference of opinion than me now, that's fine, believe what you want. (Panther, 2005, paras. 23-25)

The reaction was immediate and explosive from Panther’s fellow Harmonians. Some understood and empathized with Panther’s view; they saw it as a bit hyperbolic, but agreed with the underlying point being made.

I can see where they were going with this...a different analogy would probably have been better. Maybe the religious persecution during Mary Tudor's reign, or the Salem Witch Hunt/Trials, the religous [sic] crusades, the wars in Bosnia etc. We harmonians are being "persecuted" for our differening viewpoints/perspectives. (Anndee Granger, 2005, paras. 30-32)

The belief that H/Hr shippers were being persecuted for their beliefs was a pervasive one, and extended to fans, Emerson and other fandom “authorities,” and the author herself.

No, what we are experiencing is not at the same extreme level because of the world we now live in, but the base level is still the same. The base level taking us back to different beliefs and views without the ability to be heard in the correct manner, and yes it does feel like a form of persecution. (*Under your Skin, 2005, paras. 36-37)

While not on the same level as slavery, the intolerance of their ship did call to mind other examples of discrimination and bigotry:

Of course no one is dying because of this, but all in all we are being persecuted for our different beliefs. "Bloody" Mary Tudor, killed Protestants because she so hated their different views on Christ. This is an extreme indeed, but the mentality behind it, the vitrol [sic], is the same. (Andee Granger, 2005, para. 38)

This extreme point of view, while widespread, was not universal among the Harmonians. Many of them were . . . understandably appalled by the comment and those agreeing with it:

No wonder other people find it easy to portray us as reactionary and vicious. Some of you bloody well are. (jane99, 2005, para. 43)

I agree that it is very vicious and out in left field . . . Slavery was an oppressive movement for hundreds of years, resulting in the deaths of millions. I would hardly regard that with 'shipper treatment, nowadays. However, the schoolyard bully is a very appropriate analogy, in my opinion. Hopefully you understand the difference. (myrhlyn, 2005, para. 52)

The Response

NarcissaM brought the subject to the outside world by posting it in fandom_wank -- a defunct LiveJournal specializing in fandom drama, which now exists primarily in archives -- and the result was universally disbelief and amusement. The responses ranged from insightful, if crass, commentary . . .

Emerson did not kill your dog, tell you that Santa wasn't real, and touch you in your swimsuit areas. And the more I read the more I'm convinced that H/Hr fans aren't angry because what he said was insulting, they're angry because what he said was *accurate*. (iczer6)

I'm also wondering where keeping slaves was a matter of, y'know, people having different beliefs, and not the subjugation of an entire culture by another which had more money and more powerful weapons, and needed a lot of manual labor but didn't want to pay for it. (slackerbitch)

To good old-fashioned sarcasm and snark:

That's not the stupidest thing I've ever read, but it's in the top five. (Anonymous)

That's right. There is a conspiracy, Hermionians! The world is against you and want to take a shit on all your fan fiction! XD (Anonymous “Mary”)

QUICKLY! SOMEBODY CALL A WAAAAAHBULANCE! WE HAVE INTERNET PERSECUTION! (aerobot)

F_W, known for good and ill as a site that takes nothing seriously except the desire to laugh at themselves and especially others, took the slavery comment and ran with it:

So how much does a healthy H/Hr fan with good teeth go for these days? (xero-sky)

Which H/Hr's are in the big house and which ones are working in the fields? ... We didn't land on Plymouth rock, Plymouth rock landed on us! *throws up the fist* (prettyveela)

If we're going to start enslaving delusional people, I want to start with the scientologists. Who's with me? (ladybirdsleeps)

Big Daddy Heron:*hits the H/Hr fan with a whip* Your ship name is H/Hr, H/Hr! Say it! H/Hr shipper: H-Harmony (sewingmyfish)

Bully for the slaves! In fact they would have been sooo much better off if all we 21st century people could trade places with the whites that lived back then. Not only could we tell them to get a life, none of us would have kept slaves! (chief)

You know, just like slaves, they have to work out in the hot sun for no wages and be beaten and whipped and raped and sold like cattle deal with an author not writing the fictional pairing they wanted. (slackerbitch)

Mere hours after the controversy was reported to F_W, a user named ahiru created some icons to celebrate the controversy:

And with some more chuckles about the inherent ridiculousness of such a claim, the fandom and its onlookers dropped the subject.

For a few months.

The Aftermath

In November 2005, some users rediscovered the icons made by ahiru and found them insensitive and racist. This is immediately reported to F_W not once but twice, and the folks there were no longer entertained, responding with less amusement than outright hostility. A couple of F_Wankers understood to at least some extent why there might be people who didn’t love the icons, though they did generally come down on the side of parody and feel those upset were missing the point of the joke. A lot of F_Wankers were upset about political correctness and free speech, and were eager to point out the oppression faced by other groups of people.

Someone anonymous entered the fray with racist guns blazing, and was summarily eviscerated by gleeful F_Wankers.

After that, the dust settled, and all was quiet on the fandom front . . . at least, until the next inevitable disaster.