#i think i switched tenses in the middle of sentences up there lol

[xf-cases-solved]

mulder vs. scully and her period

-first off, he 1000% keeps track of her cycle - it's vital to his survival - but he would never ever ever ever tell scully that

-he learned to start keeping track after too many blunders during their first year working together. like, he'd had girlfriends in the past, obviously, but he didn't travel the country constantly with them day in and day out. even diana was rly reserved about her period, preferring to keep that sort of thing to herself. but scully is a medical doctor. while she may take issue with any emotional aspect, and be uncomfortable and embarrassed about that part, she is completely nonplussed by the physical aspect, and talks about it very bluntly and openly, and that took mulder by surprise at first. he wasn't used to being around a woman who wasn't bashful about it, and it made him uncomfortable at first, but eventually he was like "ok, this is going to be part of working with her, i need to get over myself and up my game"

-in their entire time working together, mulder has made one (1) "are you on your period or something?" joke. it was about six months into their partnership, and scully was (rightfully) irritated at him about something and he had tried for some levity. let's just say that he, ah... he has never made that mistake again

-he always has a tampon on hand. like, always. it is more reliable to ask mulder if he has a tampon than it would be to ask another woman in the bathroom if she has one. he started keeping them on him when she got her period on a three hour long flight that had an hour delay on the tarmac, and she'd accidentally forgotten to take a couple tampons out of her checked luggage, so he'd watched her shift around uncomfortably with a makeshift pad made of thin, coarse airplane bathroom toilet paper, and he felt really bad that he couldn't do anything about it, so on the flight back, he bought a travel pack pack of like, six tampons when he went to get sunflower seeds, just in case. then at some point he was like "mb i should keep a couple in my overnight bag for her," and that led to, "she's in my apartment a lot, i should throw a couple under the sink," until eventually he was King of the Tampons

-(he even has different absorbency levels, okay? like, he is on top of his shit)

-he used to buy chocolate for her on long drives when he knew she was on the rag, always saying something like, "it was two for one, don't worry about it," even when it wasn't, until he started to pay closer attention, and he realized she actually tended to crave salty foods instead of sweet ones, so he switched from chocolate to potato chips and pretzels. (he would play it off as though he got them for himself and then would keep offering her some, bc he knew that would help her not sit there and (completely needlessly) dwell over eating junk food)

-she gets really bad cramps the first day and a half or so, and he haaaates it, bc even tho she waves it off, he can see the way she clenches her jaw, and is hunched over whenever she thinks he's not paying attention. if she's over at his place when they're happening - even if they're working - he makes her sit with a heating pad and encourages her to drink the whole glass of water when she takes her midol. he has massaged her lower back on more than one occasion

-she stopped getting her periods regularly when she was going through cancer treatment, her body too sick and weak. about two months after going into remission, she bled through her slacks on some rural highway in arkansas, and although mulder listened to her complain and validated her frustration, he was secretly so relieved, bc he knew it meant that her body was really and truly starting to heal

-her periods become kind of a taboo subject in a way they hadn't ever been before once she learns of her infertility. she doesn't talk as openly about them anymore, but he's still always prepared and after four/five plus years together he doesn't need her to tell him how to make her feel better. he can intuit it. she doesn't say it, but he knows that she's grateful

-her periods become a dark topic when the ivf fails. the period that confirmed it didn't take was hard on both of them, and she spent every night of it at mulder's apartment letting him hold her and allowing him the privilege of caring for her, which she usually resisted

-he actually noticed that she missed a period before he was taken in oregon, but he had no reason to suspect it was anything but just a fluke, so he didn't say anything. when he glanced at his calendar and saw what week it was, though, he did have a fleeting moment where he was like "what if?" not in a serious capacity, but in a wistful way. i mean, they'd been going at it like rabbits and had never once even considered using a condom. like, why would they, right? but in his brief fantasy, he thinks about how she would react seeing a plus sign on a pregnancy test. it would be familiar - that look of disbelief and awe she got whenever they witnessed something unexplainable - and he would be the cause of it, and how amazing would it feel to be able to give that to her? to give that to both of them? but he knows it'll never be anything more than a pipe dream (bitch, you thought!)

-we won't get into sad later stuff, but i'll just say that he really, really resents the fact that he wasn't there to take care of her during her pregnancy. and he would have been fantastic at it. he would have toed the line between supportive but not overbearing perfectly. she would have had a beautiful nine months, like she had more than earned. he'll never totally forgive the universe for taking that from them

-and to conclude, let me just say for the record, mulder is all about period sex. orgasms help cramps, right? he's just being altruistic. ("YOUR orgasm doesn't help my cramps, mulder" "hey, we'll never know for sure unless we try")

-lay down a towel, lay down your woman, and get to it. bro eats crime scene evidence. there's no way he'd let a period stop him from fucking. god bless and amen

-the end

[shin-city]

Attentive Detention [Denki Kaminari x Reader]

a/n: kaminari is aged up to 18! (see end for more notes!)

genre: smut

word count: 3.8k

tags: sexual content, pwp, a sprinkle of dubcon, a pinch of humiliation, degrading, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, squirting, quirk play, overstimulation, Denki is a sadist lol

~

“This is all your fault,” you grumbled, glaring at the back of the blonde head of hair sitting in front of you. He instantly turned around, returning a glare just as icy.

“My fault? You’re the one who can’t take a joke,” he whispered angrily.

You rolled your eyes, dropping your pen that had stilled in the middle of writing, “I will not fight with Denki Kaminari,” for the 59th time out of 100.

“Okay, for the thousandth time- shocking me in the middle of class is not a joke.���

Yes, your classmate had an annoying habit of using his quirk on you at the most inappropriate of times, despite how many times you’d told him to stop doing it. He would always get a kick out of how flustered you’d get before halfheartedly smacking him and telling him off.

You both turned your attention to the front of the classroom once you heard a throat clear, being met with the hard stare of your teacher.

“Surely the two of you haven’t finished your sentences already,” Mr. Aizawa declared, raising a brow at the both of you.

“S-sorry, Mr. Aizawa. I’m almost done,” Kaminari smiled at him, although looking over his shoulder you could see that he’d only written, “I will not fight with y/l/n y/n,” 20 times before beginning to doodle random images all over his paper.

Following your outburst in class earlier that day after Denki had shocked you one time too many, Mr. Aizawa was fed up with the two of you bickering and gave you both detention. He’d lectured you on how it was important for you to get along seeing as you were teammates, and made the two of you promise to stop fighting with each other. He’d also assigned the two of you to write it 100 times each.

Aizawa stood up, eyeing both of you momentarily before shuffling lazily toward the door. “I’m going to the teachers lounge for a bit. I trust that the two of you will behave, because if you don’t,” he mumbled, pausing to glare at both of you over his shoulder. “You’ll be writing those sentences 1,000 times each.” He pulled open the door, adjusting his scarf before making his exit.

Kaminari waited until Aizawa’s footsteps could no longer be heard before spinning around entirely in his desk to face you. He had that signature smirk of his on his face, which could only mean he was up to no good.

“Turn around,” you said firmly. “We’re never gonna hear the end of it if he comes back and we’re arguing.”

He chuckled at that, snatching your pen from your hand and tucking it in his pocket. “Why do we have to argue? Can’t we just talk?”

You clenched your teeth, your hands balling up into fists as you glared at him. You knew you shouldn’t give him the satisfaction of getting you so riled up, but he was so annoying sometimes that it was hard not to.

“Maybe if you didn’t do stupid shit like that, we could just talk,” you spat, holding your hand out in front of him. “Now give it back.”

He looked down at your palm, a sinister smirk on his lips. You should’ve known what was coming next, but you didn’t register it quickly enough and before you knew it he was pressing his index finger against your palm, a small shock diffusing throughout your hand.

“D-Denki!” you whined, immediately pulling your hand away and dramatically clutching it to your chest as if it hurt that badly. It didn’t; in fact, it almost felt... good, but you would never tell him that.

He threw his head back in laughter, but returned his gaze to you in time to see your cheeks flush. That was his favorite part about teasing you.

“It’s not funny,” you mumbled through a bitten lip, grateful for the desk that covered your thighs, which had involuntarily clenched together the moment he touched you.

As Kaminari’s laughter died down, you noticed him staring at you intently, his smirk fading along with his laughter. His eyelids lowered ever so slightly, and this new expression he’d taken on had you blushing even more. His eyes glinted with mischief as usual, but...there was something else...

“Hey, why’re you looking at me like that....,” you seethed, turning to look away from him as you cheeks grew hotter. You tensed up when his hands extended toward you, but you relaxed a little when they grabbed the edges of your desk.

“You know,” he began, leaning over your desk until your faces were just a couple of inches away from each other. “I think you might like when I do that to you.”

Your eyes widened as you gawked at him, sitting back in your seat in an attempt to close the distance between you, but he only leaned in closer.

“What are you talking about? What’s gotten into you?”

It was like a switch flipped in him or something. He’d tease you all the time, yes, but never like this. But Denki had realized something. He’d noticed how your brows furrowed when he touched you...how you tensed up; how you’d whimper his name, practically moaning it. How had he not noticed it before?

You liked when he electrocuted you.

“What’s gotten into me? What’s gotten into you?”

He smirked as he tightened his grip on your desk, the legs scraping against the floor as he slid it away from you. You didn’t even try to stop him. All you could do was stare pathetically as he moved it until it was no longer between you. The only thing separating you two was the back of his chair, which he slouched over seductively. Slowly, he reached a hand toward you, and you watched in anticipation, frozen in your seat. He gave you ample time to stop him, but you never even attempted to. Before you knew it, his fingertips were brushing against your bare knee, just below your uniform skirt. You could see the electricity buzz around his fingers as he gave you a light shock.

You bit your lip in a failed attempt to hold back a whimper, your thighs pressing together which Denki could now fully see.

“It’s just as I thought,” he chuckled, pulling his hand away and turning back around. You thought he was done messing with you until he spun his whole chair around, now facing you with nothing in between you. He scooted closer and closer, until your knees were almost touching. “You’re so naughty, y/n,” he mused.

Your mouth fell open at his comment, not knowing how to respond. Usually you’d call him a name or two and hit him a couple of times, but that was when he was teasing you playfully. Now, he was teasing you lustfully and your body was responding to him better than your own mouth could.

“I...I...,” was all you could sputter, becoming very aware of the dampness between your legs. You desperately wanted him to touch you again, your worries about crossing that line with him settling in the back of your mind.

“You what?” he asked, sinister smirk playing on his lips. “C’mon, spit it out. You always have so much to say, don’t you?”

His fingertips graced your knee again as he shocked you, this time giving it a little bit more than he normally did. He was careful not to over do it; testing your limits to see how you’d react to different wattages.

“Denki,” you whined, becoming very aware of the growing dampness between your legs. “Please.”

“Please what?” he retorted. “Tell me what you want.”

You tried to find the words, but you couldn’t concentrate on anything except his hand on you. Even if you could manage to utter a comprehensible sentence, you weren’t even sure what you’d say. You weren’t sure if you were pleading him to go or stop. A part of you knew you shouldn’t be letting things get this far with him, especially in the classroom. But another part of you was eager for more; craving his touch. You were curious as to just how far this would go, as was he.

Following your silence, his hand spread out to firmly grip your thigh, fingertips digging into your flesh as he upped the wattage just a little bit more. That was all it took to break through what was left of your restraint, a moan emanating past your lips before you could stop it. Your thighs clenched once again, this time trapping a part of his hand between them as your body trembled.

A wicked grin spread across his face as he watched your body shudder under his touch. “Look at you...such a dirty girl.”

Your stomach did somersaults as he stood up, his hand never leaving your skin as he loomed over you. When you lifted your gaze to look at him, his face was only centimetres from yours, his hair tickling your check as he hovered his lips just over your ear. “I wonder...” he began, his free hand now gripping your other thigh. “Just how many times I made you wet from doing this...”

He activated his quirk through his other hand, both of them now shocking your thighs rhythmically. He snickered menacingly as you cried out his name, your hand reaching out to clutch his arm because you felt as though you’d fall over if you didn’t.

“That’s it, baby, let me hear you.” His warm breath fanned your ear as he whispered sinfully into it, and another series of shocks rattled your body. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“Denki...,” you mewled, clutching desperately at his sleeve. “We... someone might walk in.”

“And? What, are you worried someone might see what a little slut you’re being for me right now?”

Kaminari’s fingers inched higher up your thighs, his fingertips now underneath the hem of your uniform skirt. You wondered how far he’d go, because despite your feeble warning about getting caught, you knew you weren’t going to stop him. You both did.

“Do you want me to stop? All you have to do is say so,” he mumbled into your neck before placing a soft kiss on the delicate skin just below your ear. His hands crept further up until they disappeared underneath your skirt, though he no longer shocked you; waiting for you to tell him what he already knew- what you couldn’t deny any longer.

“N-no...,” you uttered, fidgeting as his tongue darted out to lick at your neck. “I don’t want you to stop.”

That was all the confirmation he needed to resume his ministrations on your thighs, buzzing at them more feverishly after your admission had caused his pants to grow tighter. He detached his lips from your neck, peppering kisses across your cheek until he was at the corner of your mouth. He pulled away from you slightly, gazing hungrily at your lips. He desperately wanted to feel them on his, but he wanted you to initiate it. He wanted you to show him just how much you wanted him.

“Kiss me,” he ordered, his tone playful, but demanding as well.

You didn’t hesitate, meeting him halfway and closing the gap between the two of you. You pressed your lips against his, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck, and another in his soft, blonde locks. He returned the kiss with fervor, immediately deepening it and sliding his tongue into your mouth. He swallowed your moans, returning them every so often when you’d roll your tongue slowly against his, or when you’d tug at his lip particularly hard. He’d removed his hands from underneath your skirt and placed them on your knees, gripping them needily. He broke the kiss shortly thereafter, attaching his lips to your throat instead.

“Open,” he commanded, tapping at your knees to signal you to open your legs for him. You complied, blushing as you shifted in your seat into the lewd position. You grew even more flustered when he knelt before you, his face right in front of your aching core. He drummed his buzzing fingers back up your thighs, gazing up at you as he gripped the hem up of your skirt and slowly hiked it up towards your hips- just enough to see a peak of your dampening underwear.

You averted your gaze from him when he began to snicker, licking a stripe on your inner thigh. “I can’t believe how wet you are already.”

The way he kept laughing at you had you soaking your panties even more. It was embarrassing yes, but something about his teasing tone sent shivers down your spine and straight to your dripping cunt.

You gasped when Denki pressed his thumb against your clothed clit, rubbing small circles through the wet patch on your panties. Small moans broke past your lips as he played with the speed and pressure, watching your face to gauge your reactions.

“I bet you want me to shock you here, don’t you?” He paused the movements of his thumb and looked up at you, indicating that the question wasn’t rhetorical, and that he was waiting on an answer.

“Y-Yes,” you whimpered, pathetically grinding yourself against his hand. “Please, Denki, I want it.”

He laughed against your thigh, his hands disappearing under your skirt to grip the waistband of your panties.

“Look at you- begging, and I didn’t even have to ask you to. You really are a slut, aren’t you y/n?” He dragged your panties down your thighs painfully slow, before letting them drop around your ankles. “Say it. Tell me what a little slut you are so that I can treat you like one.”

Kaminari’s hands gripped your thighs firmly as he spread them even further, your dripping heat glistening in front of him like a meal waiting to be devoured, and oh, was he going to devour you.

Your face went crimson at his vulgar words, but you still uttered what he wanted to hear. “I’m a slut, Kaminari. I’m such a s-slut. Your slut.”

“Yeah, that’s right you are,” he mused from between your legs before leaning in to lick along your folds. Your body trembled immediately. He hadn’t even used his quirk there yet, but still you felt like every one of your nerve endings were live wires. He continued to lap at your cunt, relishing in the taste of your essence that had accumulated there. He mumbled something about how sweet you were, but you couldn’t quite hear him over your own moans.

He began to softly flick his tongue against your clit, shocking you both figuratively and literally as he channeled his quirk through his tongue.

“Ohhh my f-, Denki~” you cried out, bucking your hips against his face. He grunted and groaned into your pussy, lapping at you faster and harder and zapping at you just the same. There was no way you were going to last much longer like this, and he could tell you were nearing your climax, prompting him to wrap his lips around your clit and suck- hard, buzzing at the nub with his tongue.

Your hands flew to his mop of blonde hair, tugging at his roots as you ground your pussy against his mouth. “Denki- ahh~, I’m g-gonna c-”

“I know, baby,” he murmured into your cunt. “ Cum for me, my naughty girl. Let me taste you.”

Your mouth fell open and your moans caught in your throat as you teetered on the edge of your climax. The lewd sounds of Denki sucking and licking at your pussy filled the classroom. He shocked you for a particularly long period of time, and that was all it took to push you over the edge. You cried out his name as you came on his mouth and chin, Denki lapping it up diligently.

“So good,” he groaned into your cunt, not letting up even a little bit. “So sweet.”

You tugged at his hair in an attempt to pull him away, your clit feeling over sensitive and over stimulated, but he didn’t budge. In fact, he only devoured you more feverishly.

“W-Wait I... c-can’t, it’s too much Denki,” you mewled, trying to close your legs but he wouldn’t allow it.

“Oh, baby,” he smiled into your pussy, kissing your swollen clit. “Yes you can. Because you’re my little slut, aren’t you? That’s what you said, right?”

He spared you no time to respond, sinking two fingers whirring with electricity into your dripping heat. He pressed them against that soft, spongy spot inside you, rubbing at it as he shocked you rhythmically.

The combination of electricity on both your clit and your g-spot had you seeing stars and grabbing fistfuls of his hair as you moaned out for him.

You felt him snicker into your core. “Don’t you think you’re being a little loud? Someone might hear you.”

You weren’t even paying attention as he dragged his free hand down your leg, his fingers hooking around your panties that now hung around one of your ankles. He pulled it off, detaching his mouth from your clit as he did so. You opened your mouth to protest, and he used the opportunity to reach up and stuff your balled up panties into your mouth.

He stood up, slouching so that he was eye level with you, never once ceasing the driving of his fingers into your cunt.

“So cute~” he mused, pushing a third finger into you like it was nothing. “I bet you can taste your sweet little pussy now, too. I’d ask how it tastes...but I guess you can’t answer me, huh...”

You whimpered and whined pathetically around the makeshift gag, saliva dribbling out of the corner of your mouth as your body shook with pleasure. You were so embarrassed, and yet so aroused all at once. It didn’t help that Kaminari darted his tongue out to lewdly lick up the small stream of saliva that escaped your mouth, before pressing his lips to your ear.

“Let’s make you cum one more time, yeah? Before Mr. Aizawa comes back and sees you like this. Though, you’d probably like that, wouldn’t you?”

You blushed as you shook your head feverishly and mumbled around your panties, denying the accusation.

“No? Is that why your tight, little pussy clenched around my fingers when I said that?” he snickered, nibbling on your earlobe before growling how dirty you were into your ear.

The blend of his fingers and sinful words had you peaking again, so close to coming, and he could sense it too. He upped the wattage of his fingers just a little bit more, smirking into your skin as you writhed beneath him.

“Cum for me, baby,” he moaned sensually into your ear, stopping to kiss your jaw. “Cum on my fingers like the good slut you are.”

The room filled with the squelching of his fingers pounding relentlessly into you. You reached a hand out to grip his bicep, digging your nails into his arm. He used his free hand to rub furiously at your clit, pushing you over the edge. Before you even knew what was going on, a clear fluid was streaming from your fluttering cunt, soaking your thighs.

He didn’t stop until the squirting did, watching in awe as you spurted out so much.

If you weren’t so dazed by your mind-numbing orgasm, you would’ve been embarrassed. There was no point in being shameful anyway. Denki proudly licked up every last drop from your cunt and thighs.

He suckled on your neck as he waited for you to calm down, your convulsing body settling into a light tremor as you came down from the euphoric feeling.

He pulled the damp panties out of your mouth, and replaced them with his cum-covered fingers, discreetly tucking your underwear in his pocket as you sucked your flavor off of him.

“Who knew you were so naughty,” he smirked at you, his cock growing harder as he took in your drained expression. “Imagine all the fun we could’ve been having.”

He desperately wanted to fuck you; to feel your tight pussy wrap around his cock like it did his fingers. But it’d have to wait for another time, for your teacher would probably be back any minute now.

“Denki...,” you whimpered around his fingers before he pulled them out of your mouth. “That was so-”

Your eyes widened as you heard heavy footsteps trudging down the hallway, a telltale sign that your teacher was returning. Denki found amusement in your horrified expression, grinning wickedly at you.

“I’d keep those legs closed if I were you. Wouldn’t want to give Mr. Aizawa a free show, now would you?” he chuckled, returning your desk to its place in front of you before sitting in his own seat.

He turned around to look at you once more, a smirk playing on his lips. “Oh, and you’d better hope he doesn’t see what a mess you’ve made, either.”

Kaminari looked down at the floor below you, and your eyes widened in horror as you followed his gaze to the small puddle under you, expanding as more of your essence dripped off of your chair.

He laughed as you brought a hand up to your mouth and gasped, your face flushing crimson. You felt your stomach drop as the classroom door slid open, a groggy looking Aizawa lumbering into the room.

“I take it the two of you behaved,” he grumbled, sitting down at his desk.

“Yes, Mr. Aizawa,” Denki responded confidently, before turning to look at you. “Didn’t we, y/n?”

Aizawa and Denki both looked at you expectantly, awaiting your answer.

“Y-yes. We behaved, Mr. Aizawa,” you lied.

Aizawa took notice of how flustered you looked, and how pink your cheeks were. His brows furrowed, head cocking to the side as he stared at you.

“Are you alright? You look a little rattled. He didn’t do anything to you, did he?” he inquired, throwing an accusatory glance at Kaminari.

“N-no, sir. I’m fine,” you assured him, offering him a small smile as you lied once again.

He looked at the both of you suspiciously before clearing his throat. “Well, you two are free to go. You can leave your papers on your desks. Enjoy your weekend,” he muttered, averting his attention to some assignments that needed grading.

You were very aware of the small droplets of liquid that dribbled down your legs as you stood up to gather your things. Denki noticed too, not even trying to not make it obvious. You were just grateful that Mr. Aizawa was too preoccupied to notice.

You left the classroom with unfinished papers and a puddle on the floor, both of which the two of you would probably have to answer to when you returned to class the following Monday. But you both were too excited about the new dynamic of your relationship to care in that moment. All either of you could think about were the inevitable escapades that were surely in your future.

~

a/n: that escalated quickly 👀 a sequel to this can definitely be expected to come in the near future!

[that-was-anticlimactic]

Sokka with Tourette’s Headacanons Part Two

that no one asked for but here they are because I wanted to write more

Part One here and links to all of my other TS headcanons and such at the end!

*rubs hands together*

let’s start with premonitory urge and Sokka’s experience with it!

for those who don’t know, premonitory urges are essentially sensory tics. It’s when you feel a sensation or a discomfort in your body where you want to-- no, need to do something for touch something. For example, it can be as simple as this feeling in my body and head that I need to rub my phone screen a certain way. If I don’t rub it, the uncomfortable feeling will linger and make me anxious or extra fidgety. They can also increase tics.

Now, in Sokka’s life with TS, he has had... some problems with premonitory urge. When he was younger and training to be a warrior, there were multiple occasions where he almost sliced his fingers off because he kept getting this physical feeling that he had to touch the swords or spears etc... a certain way.

When he gets older, he finds that they start to bother him during council meetings in the Fire Nation, especially when Zuko is doing important stuff so he has to sit far away.

They’ll be in the middle of an important meeting when Sokka looks up from his doodling to glance at Zuko and this tingling, gravitational feeling suddenly moves through his body and he can’t stop staring at the edge of Zuko’s chair and he knows that he needs to rub it.

Obviously, he can’t just get up in the middle of the meeting, walk over to the Fire Lord, and rub his chair (even though they are dating and Zuko would definitely let him)

I have had experiences like this during class where I would mentally shut down or have to calm myself down from an anxiety attack because I need to rub the white board my teacher is writing on or the teacher’s desk but we are literally in the middle of class so I can’t do that (doesn’t always end like that, but that’s worse case scenario). And it sucks. So much. So, Sokka is miserable.

One time Sokka was so focused on not having an anxiety attack because his body was telling him that he needed to rub the surface of a Fire Nation elder’s desk-thingy that’s in front of his chair (because sometimes his body hates him and it happens to people he doesn’t know that well’s stuff) that he mentally shut down. He ended up squatting in his chair, rocking back and forth for ten minutes after the meeting ended without realizing it because all he could think was don’t interrupt the meeting, don’t be weird, don’t embarrass Zuko

Zuko, being the fantastic boyfriend he is, noticed that Sokka didn’t leave the meeting and thought it looked like an anxiety attack. He kind of just sat with him. He didn’t touch him because he knew Sokka wouldn’t want it and wouldn’t be able to coherently answer if he asked to touch him. Zuko just started talking about random things to try to get his mind off of the feeling.

Once he got back into the moment (with help from Zuko’s dulcet voice), he ran to the desk-thingy and rubbed it. Like, almost dramatically ran his hand across the desk and kind of just let his hand take over and rub whatever part he needed to.

Zuko was confused because this had never happened before (well, it had, but not to this extreme in front of him and Sokka never said anything) so Zuko never knew).

Sokka was kind of embarrassed, but he told Zuko about it and together they came up with a signal for when it got really bad so Zuko could either call a five minute break or make an excuse to switch seats so he could sit next to his boyfriend.

This is another reason that Zuko keeps random things on him at all times so if it gets bad, Sokka will have more to do with his hands than draw, write sentences over and over again, take notes, and tap.

Actually, lowkey stealing this particular headcanon from @tikmasjiens and their story For When He’s Being a Dumb*ss (which I highly suggest reading-- it’s fantastic!): Katara and Zuko (for the purposes of later in life when they’re dating because of course imma make it Zukka) carry little fidget kits / bags around for Sokka because he is forgetful and is sometimes so focused on one particular thing that he starts to run late for a meeting or lunch or hang out that he forgets his own personal fidget things.

The amazing Katara and Zuko have random things: brushes, atla equivalent at paper clips (aka metal things he can bend) (yes, yes, we’ve been hiding this from the world, but people with Tourette’s are actually paper clip benders lol), dice, Pai Sho tiles, and other little trinkets.

One time when Sokka was walking around an Earth Kingdom market out of boredom (and this is after the war because I just want him to not be on edge during this), he sees this young girl making noises and movements similar to him and he sees these two other kids mocking her and laughing at her and Sokka just sees red.

He actually goes over and scolds the kids (who don’t care enough to stay and listen ugh but that’s not the main focus of Sokka’s concern so it’s whatever for now) and this young girl sees him (at around age 17-18) making noises and moving ‘weirdly’ too and she’s just like “I’ve never seen anyone else do that stuff before”

and Sokka kind of just sits down with her and talks to her about his own experience and it’s not anything to be ashamed of, even though it can feel like that sometimes.

he rummages through his pockets and pulls out some of his fidget stuff and gives it to her. He, Zuko, and Katara have plenty of fidget stuff for him. Losing a few won’t matter.

Eventually, her parents return and they part ways. They never see each other again, but they never forgot each other either. It was both of their first time seeing someone else like them.

(and personal anecdote, but one time I was faculty at a camp for the weekend, and one of the kids in my group had just gotten diagnosed with Tourette’s and that was one of the most meaningful experiences I have ever had. I got to talk to him and his mom about my experience and it was... I’ll never forget that)

Sokka may be the protective older brother, but Katara is also the terrifying ‘you hurt my brother I will ruin you’ younger sister. One time, someone mocked Sokka’s tics and Katara’s protective instincts kicked in and she lectured them so hard. and very loudly. so everyone heard.

again, y’all, I know this is about Sokka with TS but WOW I love Katara too, what a queen. Let’s take a moment and appreciate the queen that she is.

Ty Lee and Sokka do yoga together at least twice a week. They both find it relaxing and fun and nice, but it also helps Sokka begin the day with less stress in his body. It doesn’t cure his TS, because there is no cure and he needs no cure, but it definitely helps sometimes.

Something that absolutely kills Sokka is that he wants to cuddle with Zuko at night so badly, but sometimes he genuinely just can’t. Zuko’s arms around him will make him feel too trapped and restrained, his arms around Zuko make him paranoid that if he moves too much, he’ll make Zuko uncomfortable and just stressed himself out by only being able to think about “am I moving too much?” “can Zuko feel me move?” “stay still stay still stay still” and it’s just not fun and he gets tense

But sometimes, he can cuddle and he loves it! Because as much as he hates being held, he desperately longs to be held. As self-conscious as he gets when he holds Zuko, he wants to be able to hold Zuko.

So when he feels like he can cuddle with Zuko, he gets so excited!

Zuko swears up and down that the lack of cuddling on occasion does not bother him, but Sokka still has trouble believing him (not that he doesn’t trust him, but he can’t understand how someone would be okay with it)

One time, Sokka was so distressed about whether or not Zuko was upset with him or pretending not to be upset to spare his feelings that Zuko invited Toph over so she could inform Sokka that he was, in fact, telling the truth about it being okay that they can’t always cuddle and be physically affectionate.

Sokka’s verbal tics both annoy him and don’t annoy him. He’s so used to hearing them that they don’t bother him anymore, but sometimes they make it hard for him to talk and he can feel them and that’s what bothers him.

He’s also self-conscious that everyone hates his verbal tics and are annoyed by them.

On a really bad head day for Sokka, the gaang was going to see a theatrical show per Zuko’s request and it was the first time in months they had all been able to hang out together and Sokka wasn’t having a good tic day and was so genuinely afraid to go to the show because he was going to tic and make noises and what if he distracted everyone? what if the strangers in the audience got mad at him? what if the ushers forced him to leave? how embarrassing would that be?

so he pretended to be sick and didn’t go

but Toph saw through his crap and stayed behind as well because “you’ve heard a play once, you’ve heard it a thousand times” and when everyone leaves, she calls Sokka out and asks him what was up

and he knew he couldn’t get away with lying to Toph, so he told her the truth and she just kind of laughed and went “they don’t bother any of us, seriously”

and Sokka was just “how do you know? It’s not like how much my tics don’t annoy you come up naturally in conversation”

and Toph goes “I don’t need to talk to them about it to know that no one’s bothered by them. Besides, they care about you more than they care about what sounds you make” then punched his arm

(and if Sokka silently cried, no one needed to know)

so, overtime, he gets the nerve to ask everyone individually (because there’s no way he could do everyone at once) just to make sure he wasn’t bothering them. He doesn’t get to ask everyone because some of them kind of get a feeling that he’s anxious about it (and if Zuko maybe mentioned it to some people so they approached him and causally mentioned they weren’t bothered, no one needs to know oops) (don’t worry, Zuko didn’t say anything super personal. Just like “tell Sokka his tics don’t bother you because he thinks they do”. Not like the details and stuff Sokka told him in private)

Katara didn’t answer, just asked if she could hug him and said that she loved him no matter what (and ten minutes later asked him if anyone told him that because if someone in the gaang said it, then she wouldn’t be afraid to spill blood)

Zuko, ever the dramatic and romantic one, knelt in front of Sokka (who was sitting) and went “I love you. I love every single part of you.” *kisses his hands* “I love you for your finger clenching and fist pumping.” *kisses his shoulders* “I love you for your shoulder rolling...” *kisses his neck* “your neck twitches...” *kisses his nose* “your nose scrunching...” *gently kisses each eye* “your blinking...” *kisses his lips* “and for every verbal and motor tic you’ve ever had and ever will have”

(look, I’m just... I’m so soft for that moment and I think about it constantly)

Suki gives him this hard and serious look and says “you are not annoying. You never have been and you never will be” and from just her stare and tone of voice, he knows she’s telling the truth.

Aang immediately just starts rambling and is like “I’m so sorry if I ever made you feel that way but you as so far from annoying! Honestly, sometimes I forget they’re even there I’m just so used to them-- not that they’re forgetful or anything, but they’re just so normal to me that I don’t notice-- why are you crying? Did I say that wrong? I’m sorry--”

and Sokka just grabs him and hugs him and says “No. I love you. Thank you.”

Mai is bad at emoting but she tells him “I don’t mind them. They’re comforting. Sometimes. Better than the sound of an empty house or screaming.”

Ty Lee immediately goes into “who told you you were annoying? I have some new moved I’d like to try. Give me names and they’re test subjects number one” and even Sokka feels fear at the look on her face even though the anger isn’t directed towards him

Azula is kind of snarky at first (because she’s trying not to, but it’s hard and it’s not her fault). She just gives him this seriously? look and kind of goes “you really think they’re significant enough to bother me?” and Sokka knows that’s Azula’s healing way of saying “no, they don’t bother me”

okay but let’s also talk about Hakoda and Piandao and Iroh because I want to and I love them

Hakoda kind of does what Katara does and asks if he can hug him and just tells him how proud he is of Sokka for the man that he’s become and that his TS is a part of who he is and it’s a part of his identity and there’s nothing his TS could ever do to make him any less proud

Piandao actually talked to Sokka about it during Sokka’s Master because it was holding him back of bit. Sokka was kind of embarrassed and was getting frustrated with it. Piandao sat him down and told him that perceived weaknesses are actually one of our greatest strengths. Being a nonbender looks like a weakness to many benders who rely solely on their bending, but it takes a certain kind of person to be a nonbender and that’s something to be proud of. The things that make you different are sometimes the things that teach you how special you are.

Piandao just sees so much potential and good in Sokka and Sokka looks up to him so much.

Iroh always lends Sokka extra or old Pai Sho tiles to fidget with. He also has this relaxing tea that helps his mind feel calm. Again, not with the intent to “fix” or “cure” him, but it helps his anxiety levels go down, in turn helping his tics relax.

Iroh tells Sokka that his tics are nothing to be ashamed of and that true friends would stick with him, tics or no tics.

hey? hey? guess what? Bumi ll didn’t just inherent the nonbending from Sokka, he also got the Tourette’s genes:)

imagine the Uncle / Nephew bonding between them

like, Bumi ll asks him why Kya and Tenzin don’t do weird things but he does? and Sokka just smiles sadly because he knows the feeling and talks to him about Tourette’s.

Bumi ll also got lucky because Katara saw the signs instantly and got him tested as soon as she could.

Let’s just say, aside from the gaang, the Kataang family is the most supportive family of his TS:) (it doesn’t hurt that his aunts and uncles will hung down anyone who ever makes him feel like trash and lecture them or their parents oops)

this is something I have mentioned before, but Sokka struggles to sit through meetings. Having TS and ADHD make it so hard for him.

sometimes he just feels so out of place because in this room full of people, he’s the only one rocking back and forth in his chair and changing his position every three seconds and jerking his head. He just feels... so wrong when he sees how still everyone else is sitting. Yeah, occasionally he’ll see some people tapping their foot or tapping the table in front of them with their fingers, but it’s not the same.

BUT on a happy note and not to make this all depressing (because TS sucks sometimes, but there’s nothing wrong with it or us and it’s a part of who we are) Sokka 100% has a top ten list of his favorite and least favorite tics of all time (I don’t know if people keep track of their favorites or if that’s just something I like to do, but I would imagine that a decent amount of people with TS know their favorites and least favorites)

I won’t bore y’all with an actual list, but his favorite tic is rocking back and forth. The motion is so soothing and comforting to him. Like, it feels right to be rocking. Yeah, sometimes he gets self-conscious about it, especially if he’s the only one in the room moving, but it feels so nice and right.

Sokka: *tics a couple times in a row* ughhhh that was not fun

Toph: *jokingly* wow, I mean, can’t you just, I don’t know, stop? Just, not do it?

Sokka: *jokingly* great idea, Toph! Why didn’t I think of that? All I needed to do all along was just not want to tic!

Toph is the only one ever allowed to do this bit with him. Sokka thinks it’s the funniest thing and it never fails to make laugh

Toph said that out of sarcastic instinct one time and almost choked on her drink because she felt so bad but Sokka was stifling a laugh and replied super sarcastically and then just laughed.

Toph still felt really bad and apologized (Sokka told her it was fine and he wasn’t upset, but she’s also been on the other side of jokes like that and it’s not fun).

Now, though, it’s kind of their thing. They do it every once in awhile and it flows like any other banter. It just happens and they don’t even blink.

(if anyone else did that to Sokka, though, Toph would probably rob them or like soak their clothes in cactus juice so they’re all sticky idk, she just wouldn’t stand for it)

Sokka actually takes a leave of absence from being an ambassador to travel around the four nations and visit schools with Toph and Zuko (who also take breaks). The three of them go to educate schools on disabilities (their own and others).

Sokka also personally makes it his mission to sit in one class at every school and see if there’s anything that he can give advice on. Sometimes, he talks to principals and teachers about how to help accommodate students with learning or “disruptive” disabilities so that they can get the best education that they can while still feeling comfortable and safe.

Now, the three don’t get this all done at once, it takes a year or two, but they do it and all three are just... really proud of it.

Sokka really struggles with Locus of Control (LOC). For those who don’t know, LOC is “ a psychological concept that refers to how strongly people believe they have control over the situations and experiences that affect their lives” (Ed.glossary.org).

Sokka, as many headcanon, likes having control over situations or likes having things ordered and scheduled. He doesn’t like changes to his schedule, he likes having schedules... his tics, on the other hand, are not something he can control or schedule

Giving up that control is hard for him. It wasn’t too bad as a child in a super small village, but once he left the SWT with Aang and Katara, he realized how different having tics was (although he was the only one back at home with tics, he often worked with restless children)

He went through a period of time where he thought that he could control his tics, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t. Thus, the loss of control he feels.

He actually went through a ‘phase’ once where he thought that maybe he was making his tics up and doing them on purpose for attention or to be different or something. Katara quickly shut him down and told him that he wasn’t doing that.

I once saw someone say that Sokka has imposter syndrome and I think it correlates a bit with LOC in this context (I should actually do some research about that...).

Learning to understand that he won’t always have control is hard for him. Like. Really hard. He tried so desperately to control his tics and it just increased his anxiety and wore him out. Trying to control tics freaking hurts.

Aang is actually the one to help him with that. He’s had a lot of experience of not being able to control his own life, and although their situations are different, he has methods he uses to attempt to prevent himself from overthinking too much and letting his anxiety take control.

After that, Sokka doesn’t struggle with LOC as badly as he did before. It still sneaks in time after time, but it’s never too prominent and Aang is always there with some advice and distractions:)

(I just also love Aang so much and he deserves the world)

Although Sokka is “weird” with touch, there is one type of touch he is almost always on board with: massages. Massages. I’ll say it one more time: massages. They feel so nice. He carries so much stress in his back and shoulders because of how much he moves them due to his tics.

Zuko can tell when Sokka’s shoulders and back start to hurt really badly and will just sit behind him, heat his hands up (not too much), and give him the absolute best massages.

No. Seriously. Zuko gives the best massages (Sokka once wanted to return the favour and uhhh.... Zuko was not a fan. Although Friends isn’t the best show to take examples from, but uhh Sokka gives massages like Monica Gellar. That is all. Zuko gets his massages from Ty Lee).

Suki gives the second best massages.

Katara third.

So, there’s this one Kyoshi Warrior that works with Suki on guard that Sokka just can’t crack. She has an RBF and rolls her eyes and stuff a lot and she uhhh is kind of rather facially expressive but like, RBF style, so one time when Sokka is having a bad tic day, she makes a face.

It wasn’t aimed towards him, it was about something else, but his heart just breaks because this girl he had been trying to get to open up a bit to him and let loose and not be so freaking serious all of the time hates him.

and later she approached him and just “Sorry. I don’t... I don’t get annoyed by your tics or you or anything. I find them soothing and, I don’t know, nice. Like a reminder that the Fire Lord’s boyfriend is still safe. And they sound nice. I don’t hate them. Or. You.” (look, feelings are hard for her)

and Sokka just :D

alrighty, this is longer than I intended... so we’ll end with me mentioning something I mentioned last time: Yue! (I love her). She never once brings up Sokka’s tics. She never makes faces or asks him why he makes sounds. She’s studied a lot, and while there isn’t too much out there about TS, it’s the NWT, they have lots of books. She could see the signs and assumed.

Never once in the amount of time that they knew each other did she mention it. Sokka appreciated not having to explain himself. He felt safe and welcome there with Yue.

Thank you for reading, anyone who made it to the bottom! I enjoy talking about TS as well as my own experience with it. I love writing about Sokka with TS in particular. There isn’t a lot of TS rep out there, really only the one episode of South Park (don’t watch the show, but I watched the clips about Tourette’s education that the Tourette’s Association of America approved of. It was really heartfelt and lovely to watch and is also a good representation of coprolalia!) and the movie Front of the Class.

My ask box is always available for questions about TS, Sokka with TS, Jay (Ninjago) with TS, anyone’s personal TS headcanons or experience, or any underrepresented neurological disorder that you want to share!

List of TS Stuff Already Written: Part One here , Deeper Than Words (a oneshot I wrote on ao3 of Sokka with TS), a lovely Sokka with TS oneshot written by @tikmasjiens (sorry for tagging you twice ahhh)​ here , Stuck (a Sokka with TS excerpt from a fic I’m writing), NInjago Jay!TS Oneshot

[akindofmagictoo]

narrative style tag game

I was tagged by @rokasai and @pamsdrabbles to talk about my narrative / pov choices! 

I write in past tense most of the time; I had a Hunger Games-inspired phase of first-person-present when I was younger, but I mostly don’t do that except for short stories 

at the moment I also write third person much more than first person. it comes more easily somehow. 

I am a fan of multi POV, and I have now figured out how to not switch POV without meaning to lol. Hurricane has four POVs; Aella, Theo, Tempest, and Laila because I needed some eyes aboard the Marquess. that’s essentially my reasoning for multiple POVs — everyone has something different to offer and for whatever reason, particular people’s POVs are necessary at different points. (eg there’s a bit where Aella is not present and Theo faints in the middle of the scene, so Tempest’s POV is the most useful across that scene and the next)

what that means, though, is I often switch POV mid-chapter because I chose POVs for particular scenes and then broke it up into chapters later. it’s something I tried to reduce in Hurricane’s third draft, but there are still often several POVs in one chapter. so you know, swings and roundabouts. 

I’m trying just one POV for Dragonsong — Isi’s! there are places where it could be nice to explore others’ POVs, but I’m trying to challenge myself and reveal the stuff in the dialogue or not at all. if I did any other POVs there it would be Robin and that’s probably it. but no. sticking to Isi’s. (also I think Isi’s is a good POV to write from because she processes internally and thinks in sentences, so lots of inner monologue. that said, because I think in sentences, all my characters do to some degree.) 

I like to write in third person deep (there are many terms) but essentially I try and blend the narrative into the person’s thoughts, so minimal “she thought” etc. — definitely not omniscient, and when I’m in someone’s head I’m trying to show you how they’re feeling and thinking. still practising ofc! 

this was fun! 

gonna tag @isherwoodj @writingbyjillian @zmlorenz @sleepyowlwrites @writingonesdreams @writeremma @talesofsorrowandofruin @unholieds and anyone else who wants to play! 

[prettyboongi]

A Sweet Mess

Reader x Kim Seokjin

1.6k+ words

Fluff, Angst (with some soft smut)

Summary: To cure your homesickness, you decided to whip yourself your favorite childhood treat. But it doesn’t go exactly to plan...

[Note: Funny story: I got this idea from my boyfriend. This was somewhat inspired by a real life accident involving me and some root beer. He even suggested the story should involve Jin (which he won’t admit but I know he likes Jin the most). So I’m gonna dedicate this to the man that has to be put up with my dumbass on a daily basis lol. I love you honey!]

It’s been five months since you decided to make the big move to South Korea to start your new career and new life with your longtime boyfriend, Seokjin. Despite already getting used to your new life, the feeling of homesickness would sometimes sneak up on you and cover you like a heavy blanket. After all, you did leave behind your friends, family and everything else you associated with home. Whenever you did start to miss home, you did your best to not bother Jin about it; Jin was already stressed out about work as it is, you didn’t want to add on to the burden. 

Unfortunately for you, tonight was one of those nights when your longing for home was especially bad. It was in the middle of the night and you and Jin were fast asleep. That was until you woke up from a dream, a dream of you having fun with your family like old times before the move. Instead of waking up from cold sweat or gasping for air as it happens with your usual troubling dreams, you woke with intense feelings of melancholy. Although you regularly contacted your family, called your folks twice a week and texted your favorite sister every single day, it still wasn’t the same as being with in person. You felt tears starting to bubble up, and you wanted nothing more than to wake Jin up and cry into his arms. But you remembered that he has his own issues to deal with and you didn’t want to make them worse. So like the big girl that you were, you sat yourself up, wiped your wet eyes and headed towards the kitchen. There was one thing that cheered you up during moments like this and it was indulging in your favorite childhood treat: a root beer float. 

Arriving at the kitchen, you flip the light switch that brightly illuminated the entire area. You had to squint your eyes in order to get used to the light. You first opened the freezer and got out a pint of French vanilla ice cream. After setting it on the counter, you opened the fridge and got out a single sized bottle of root beer. Once settling into Korea, you remember how hard it was to come across your favorite soda and when you did actually find some, you took the chance to stock up on it. 

You were scooping generous globs of ice cream into a glass mug when you were started by a loud yawn. Looking up, you saw your sleepy boyfriend walking into the kitchen. 

“What’re you doing up?,” he asks, his voice thick with grogginess. He opens the fridge to grab a cold bottle of water. 

“Oh, I was having problems sleeping,” you sheepishly answer, “I thought having a late night snack would help me relax a bit.” 

Jin looked over to what you were making and, the second he laid eyes on the root beer, his face instantly twisted in disgust. “Ugh,” he spats out, “I’ll never understand why you like that stuff. It’s so strong.” 

“If by strong you mean delicious and heavenly, then yes it is strong,” you sassed. Jin rolled his eyes as he took a sip from his water. “You sure you don’t want some? I can make you a tiny float.” 

“Um, I think I’m good but thanks for the offer, hon.” 

“Suit yourself,” you say as you reached out for the root beer. Taking his water, Jin was heading back to the bedroom when he heard you shriek. He immediately runs back to the kitchen to make sure you were alright. Instead, he finds you stunned and soaked with the brown fizzy drink. The sudden stream of root beer initially hit your face, ultimately having it seep through your white top. The surrounding area where you stood was also a mess but it seemed like you took the brunt of it. 

“Goddammit!,” you belted out, “I just took a shower too!” Your anger turns into embarrassment once you hear your boyfriend burst in laughter. The sight of you was so hilarious to Jin that he had to steady himself on the wall to keep from collapsing on the floor. “It’s not funny, Jin!,” you cried out while blotting the excess root beer off your face and neck. 

Wiping the tears from his eyes, he replied, “I’m sorry, baby, it’s just- pfffft!”, but he couldn’t even finish his sentence, breaking into another fit of laughter. 

It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. Your intention was to just have a nice, late night pick me up, not have the whole thing literally explode on your face. And with Jin witnessing your blunder and laughing his ass off, it didn’t make things any better. 

Utterly defeated, you flung your head down as you felt the tears you’ve been holding for so long start to spill out. 

Finally done reeling from laughter, Jin hears your silent sniffles and walks towards. “Y/N, what are you crying about?,” he asks in a tone that was more stern than concerning. 

It takes you a moment before you finally answer. “All I wanted to do was make a fucking root beer float,” you blubbered, “but I couldn’t even do that.” 

“Y/N, I know you and I know for sure you wouldn’t cry over something as stupid as this.” 

You didn’t respond to his remark, you just kept your head down away from his gaze. Jin suddenly spins you towards him and tightly holds you to his chest. Worried you might mess up his own clothes, you stammer, “No, Jin, I’m sticky-I don’t-”

“You don’t have to act so strong all the time, Y/N” he interrupts you. His voice is now gentle and soothing. You stood there speechless as Jin continued to hold you, caressing your hair. “I know it’s been hard for you with the move and everything. I know how close you were with your family. And I know I’ve been tense with work and I’m sorry for attentive enough with your feelings. But you should know that it’s alright to cry and you’ll alway have me to cry on. Never forget that.” 

The love and sincerity that came with Jin’s words hit you so hard that you finally let out all of the pain you’ve been feeling these past months. You tightly held on to your boyfriend, sobbing loudly into his broad chest. Jin didn’t mind the fact that you were still wet and sticky from the soda, he just calmly stroked your head with one hand while rubbing circles on your back with the other. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he cooed, “You’re safe with me.” 

“I just miss them so much,” you said in between sobs.

 After a while, your crying finally died down; while there was still a part of you that felt brokenhearted, you felt so much better being open with your feelings. Jin pulled an inch away from you to check your face. He wiped off your tear streaked cheeks with his thumbs before planting a lingering kiss on one of them. His kiss slowly moved down to your jawline and eventually your neck. Despite expressing his dislike for root beer earlier, he found himself savoring in the sweet, sticky taste on your neck. He travelled up and down your neck with his soft, plushed lips, which made you lost in his warm kisses. It was until you felt the tip of his tongue slide up your throat that made you alert of his intentions. 

“Jin, what’re you doing?”, you asked, your breath slightly hitched. But he didn’t answer you. He looked down at you with desire in his eyes and swiftly scooped you up in his strong arms. 

“Whoa!” you exclaimed as he carried you towards your bedroom. Once there, he sat you gently on the bed. “Jin, w-,” you tried speaking but he interrupted you again, but with his lips landing on yours. Responding instantly, you closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. You felt him poke your lips with his tongue, permission to gain access to your mouth, and you happily obliged. When breaking away for a moment, Jin grabbed the hemline of your damp shirt and pulled it over your head, revealing your naked torso. With your guidance, he then laid you down on the bed. 

“Let me take care of you, my princess,” he says invitingly while hovering over you, gazing into your eyes. He helps you slide off your pajama pants and panties before, once again, crashing his lips onto yours. You moan into his mouth as you felt him caress your soft skin with his nimble hands. Breathlessly and with hot tears in your eyes, you muttered softy, “I love you so much, Jin…” Jin responds, “I love you too,” before spreading your legs and entering himself in your warmth. You didn’t understand how your dumb accident into this but you honestly didn’t care. The combination of Jin’s passion and your vulnerable feelings made for an unexpected yet extremely intimate night for the both of you. 

Hours later, you woke up around 6’ o'clock feeling rather relaxed and uplifted. You felt Jin’s long arm wrapped around your waist with his bare chest on your back. Not daring to wake up Jin and ruined this beautiful moment, you snuggled closer to him and soon fell back to sleep. 

Even as time passes, you know there will always be a part of you that misses your old life. But you also know that with having Jin by your side, you’ll always feel right at home. 

[greenninjagal-blog]

Hi! Black Hole Group Chat is one of my favorite fics ever (and I have read a lot)! I was wondering if you had any tips for writing group chat fics? Have a good day!

Aw Thank you! BHGC was and is one of my favorite things to have ever written!

I do have a couple tips about writing using this format that I’ve picked up from writing this, reading comments on bhgc, and from reading other things like it but I’ll put them under a keep reading tab because they turned out longer than I though they would!

1. Decide before you start the story if you’re going to write everything in the chat format or if you are going to write out some of the scenes. In bhgc i stuck to just the chat format even when there were things I could have described more (the call in the second chapter? the call in the fourth? or the start of the ninth?) This distinction is important because it influences how the plot can be revealed. I could have very easily switched to Prose when Logan and Patton ran into each other in chapter seven to keep the focus on Logan, but instead I chose to focus on the chat where Virgil and Roman worked together and bonded a bit. I continually put together a story where I made a deliberate choice not to use prose so that by the climax my readers were accustomed to being able to read the actions and infliction of the words without needing detailed descriptions.

2. Figure out the reason why the group uses the chat. This is important because it helps develop the characters and their relationships with each other as well as how they interact. In my personal experience group chats built just for a single project in a class die after the project unless the participants learn something that bonds them together. In bhgc, Virgil’s muteness is his main reason to keep texting where as Logan’s anonymity is his reason to use the chat, even after he figures out who the other boys are.

3. Remember that people have lives outside of their phones. This is important in the frame of telling a story (as long as telling a story is the goal and its not just crack for fun)! People aren’t always on their phones! Things happen around them that influence them!! And they aren’t always going to read the the messages at the same time. This further helps you personalize your characters and makes them feel more real. (like in chapter two how Virgil and Logan have a whole conversation without Patton or Roman because the other two have decent sleep schedules. Or how in chapter five Patton misplaces his phone.) You can also weaponize this as I did in chapter eight when Patton and Logan were having their calm subdued conversation right before its revealed that Virgil and Roman are in the middle of a very emotionally charged one.

4. Foreshadow your backstories. Okay, 90% of the time when you are first getting to know someone, you aren’t going to tell them all your trauma and problems. You know that one John Mulaney quote, “I shall pepper in the fact that I’m gay”? Do that. Pepper in the idea that your characters have quirks and triggers without out right saying it. Did you notice in Bhgc that when Roman makes death jokes and Virgil and Patton both get tense and terse about it? How about the fact that Patton chose to study Psychology because he was trying to figure out why his mother always chose drugs over him? The entire book is made of conversation, and yet there is not a single thing said that is not important to the characters development-- not even the jokes. 

5. Everyone talks differently. have you ever been in a group chat with someone who uses a crap ton of emojis? Or maybe someone who still uses “XD” and “:)”? These are all things that are personal to each of us For the best writing experience, I would give each character a writing quirk that is all theirs so that without needing to read the usernames, readers can infer who’s speaking and how theyre feeling. In bhgc, Logan uses full sentences with punctuation and proper grammar-- which means that when he starts using clipped sentences, the readers know he’s getting emotional. Patton generally tries to uplift the conversation, regardless of whats going on. Virgil’s messages are designed to be dismissive or snarky. And Roman is the “leader” so he uses the most “I” centered messages and changes the subject when he doesn’t necessary want to talk about it anymore. Even Dee, for the short time that he’s there, copies Patton speech, but integrates subtle verbal attacks on the others every times he speaks.

Obviously these aren’t absolute for these characters-- I created these systems based on my understanding of the cannon characters and how I wanted it to reflect their backstory (Logan’s stiff wording and grammar alludes to the control nature of his parents and Virgil’s dismissive one’s suggest that he’s used to not being noticed unless he’s doing something wrong and Dee’s verbal attacks are a look directly into his motivations.)

So! That’s what I have overall there are a few more tricks that I’ve picked up: like decide on a plot, but don’t be afraid to deviate from it (as I l learned from when the Hot guy from the coffee shop became Logan, lol), and things that aren’t said can be just as important as those that are (Logan not apologizing to Roman and his constant attempts to leave the chat), but those are also lessons that I think are best taught when you figure them out yourself! The best advice I can give is read and write. 

Whatever story you are telling, someone out there is waiting to read it :D

[vertanimeni]

the ice will start to break, the day will fade away (12/18)

Summary:

“Have you heard? The Elephant of Caocin has committed high treason!”

From Trikru’s most reputable war hero to Trikru’s most wanted traitor, Kova found themselves stripped of their titles and trapped between a clan that wants them dead and a camp of invaders - the same ones who kidnapped and tortured their brother.

But Kova was willing to do anything to stay alive and keep their family together.

Pairing: Bellamy Blake/Grounder OC

Word Count: 5,450

TW: Virus/Illness, vomiting, blood, explosives

A/N: I’m... actually being decent w the schedule for once... LOL wow~ If you’re reading through my blog, the read more does not show up due to Tumblr’s new formatting, so please click on the post itself. As of right now, I will be updating every Friday at 4pm EST.

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xii. implosion.

The group entered the dropship. Finn, with Clarke in his arms, made a beeline straight for Wells, who prepped a bed for her.

"What do I have to do to stop you from coming in here?" Her question was but a murmur.

"Get better."

"If he's not sick by now then he's probably immune, like me." Octavia assured her leader. "The virus doesn't last long, either." She added casually and let Murphy and Wells dominate the conversation while she dragged Kova into a private corner. None of the others noticed — too preoccupied with Clarke and the new information.

"Did you know?" She asked when the two were finally alone.

"Know what?" They sat crisscrossed on an empty crate.

"Where do I begin?" With every point, she ticked off a finger. "The virus; Lincoln leaving to 'east of the sea and across it,' or whatever; the—" She cut herself off, lowered her voice, and leaned in close, "—the upcoming attack?"

Needless to say, she had connected a few dots on her way back to camp after her conversation with Lincoln. If she recalled correctly, Kova had returned in the dead of night, and woke up late the next morning. But didn't they have enough time to at least warn somebody? Even herself?

"Lincoln and I talked a lot that night, and when I returned, I was already tired. The next morning Bellamy woke me up to find you and I ended up having to take care of the sick here. It just slipped my mind." Kova leaned in. "Besides, if I did say anything, he and Clarke would know I sneaked out. I can't risk that, either." 'Well, now Bellamy and Miller know, but still.' Pausing, they leaned back and eyed the young woman for a second, a hint of hope in their eyes. "Are you leaving with us?"

"Leaving?"

"East of the sea and across. Floukru. Will you come?"

"…Lincoln wants me to."

"That didn't answer my question."

"You're going?"

"…If Clan Leader Luna gives me permission, then yes." It took only a brief moment of doubt where they had considered their words carefully. They weren't sure to what extent Octavia knew about their relationship with Trikru. But then Octavia's eyes glinted with curiosity—

"Kova," Finn interrupted suddenly, completely unaware of the tension between the two, "how much time do you think we have until the virus passes?"

While they were just as taken aback as Octavia was, Kova couldn't help but think, 'Ah, Finn, perfect timing. I'll have to burn some bud for him in thanks.' "It's a light strain, so a day or two more, maybe? Three at most." They replied.

“They need to stay hydrated.” Clarke’s voice rasped out from afar, catching Finn's attention.

"You need to stay hydrated." Rolling his eyes, Finn almost rushed back to her side, but Wells signaled that he had it covered. He turned back to the two and said, "If we had more time to recover from the virus, then we could fight back. We just need to slow them down. Come with me, let's go talk to Raven.” He left no room for argument and rushed past the curtains.

The two stared at empty air for a moment until Kova broke the silence. "Let's talk about this later."

Octavia pursed her lips but conceded, and the two followed Finn to a tent on the other side of the camp. Just as he pulled back flap of the door, the three heard Raven’s voice in the middle of her sentence. “—need as many rounds done by dawn as we can.”

“It won’t matter if there’s no one left who can shoot.” Finn cut in just as the three entered.

Inside, Raven stood behind a desk scattered with empty bullet shells and powder. She refused to even look at Finn, but welcomed Octavia and Kova; Bellamy and Monty leaned over a corner of the desk with a map; and to Kova's surprise, Jasper and Harper stood off to the side, shifting uncomfortably when the two noticed their presence.

Finn continued, "What do we need to build a bomb?”

Pop! went the joints in Kova's neck as they whirled on Finn, a disgusted and betrayed look on their face. They stepped back, almost tripping over the wiring of the tent. 'Finn, what the actual fuck?' They thought, and because they were never one to hold back, they said, "Finn, what the fuck?"

"Wait. Hear me out." Finn held up his hands in a placating manner. "Murphy said he crossed a bridge on his way back from the grounders’ camp. Sounds familiar?”

Their eyes softened from the sharp glare they held. While they understood what he meant, they really wish he had given them a heads up beforehand.

“Is that the only bridge around here?” Bellamy switched his gaze from the hastily made map to Kova.

“It is.” They confirmed. “Ankon bridge is the only one that connects TonDC to the rest of Trikru territory the fastest, since the forest and the river get in the way. There's another bridge far down the river, but if the warriors are planning to come though Ankon, it'll be a major setback to change their plans to the other bridge."

“The virus is fast. Murphy is already getting better and Kova thinks it’ll pass within a few days. Blowing up the bridge won’t stop the attack, but the longer we delay it, the more of us will be able to fight.”

Kova couldn't hide the flinch at the mere thought of blowing up the bridge. Not only will it be a major setback, but the residents of TonDC, Fort Nauk, and other surrounding villages will end up suffering for it. Especially the merchants.

"Even if Murphy is telling the truth — and that’s a big if — that bridge has survived a nuclear war and 97 years of weather. What do you think, Raven?”

Everyone turned to the mechanic. She paused for a moment, considering the many different ways to build a bomb before it hit her — the fuel from the Exodus ship. Her eyes sparked with sturdy confidence. “It won’t survive me. Everyone, out while I think. Get ready to head down to the Exodus site.”

Jasper and Harper were the first to leave, the former refusing to look anywhere near Kova's direction and the latter sending them a sharp glare. For the first time, Kova internally thanked Bell when he pulled Octavia out of the tent for a quick talk.

The grounder turned to the remaining two boys. "You finished with the fish?"

"Yup," Monty popped the p.

"Zoe and Drew were almost done when we left. I'm not sure who's cooking tonight, though." Finn spoke. Kova noted the subtle flinch of Raven's back turned towards the three.

"Got it. Nice work. I'll see you guys later, then."

Monty quickly said, "Sorry about Jasper, he's being a bit of a dumbass right now. Just give him time." Then, he and Finn left the tent.

The sound of metal clinking gently made Kova turn back to Raven and lean against one of the side tables in silence, mindlessly toying with one of the bullet shells, while Raven moved to work on the second desk with another map. Familiar, higher quality, with rough estimation marks at Mount Weather, the camp, a burial ground. They recognized it as the one Clarke had made when the delinquents first arrived—

A clatter and a huff caught their attention. Raven had dropped whatever she was working on and turned to Kova. "What do you want? Why are you still here?"

“What’s bothering you?”

“Excuse me?”

Being nosy with one of the few people in this camp who didn't hate them was the last thing Kova wanted to do, but they've gone on missions with people who had lingering issues from an argument right before, and it never ends well. 'Like Zoya and Zandara, when they had a fight right before our mission because Zandara thought Zoya had been stealing her food, but it had actually been their other roommate at the time.' While the memories had a tint of melancholy attached, internally, Kova didn't know whether to laugh or shiver with fear. 'That mission was the only blemish on their record.'

"Something is going on with you and Finn." Octavia had mentioned their strained relationship before, that almost everyone on camp thought he had been cheating on Raven with Clarke out of all people, but she didn't go in depth at the time, and right now, Kova really wished she had. "Do you want to talk about it?"

As if Kova had damaged the final piece of a dam on its last legs, Raven burst with a long rant. "My head still hurts when I crash landed on Earth and I'm kind of terrified of a concussion even though Clarke checked me out; I'm worried about what's gonna happen to the people on the Ark; I'm worried I'm gonna die in some war I never signed up for; and I came down here to be with the guy I've loved for years only to find out he's—?" She paused, her voice cracking. "He cheated on me? He cheated on me with Clarke, and wasn't even going to tell me about it. I had to find out myself. And I think he's still cheating, even though he says the opposite, and I—" She took a deep breath, her tense shoulders sagging. "There's a lot of things bothering me right now."

To be entirely truthful, Kova had actually expected Raven to tell them to leave her alone, or that she didn't want to talk about it, or maybe even tell them to fuck off. And while they were pleasantly surprised about the rant, they weren't going to interrupt or stop her.

She continued, “And today when Clarke passed out, Finn just caught her without hesitating! He risked his entire life for her and didn’t even think twice about it! The last time he did that was for me on the Ark, and…" Her voice trembled, and the first tears dropped and gathered at her chin. "As much as I don't want to admit this, but I think I lost him the moment he came down here. I just don't know what to do."

"Did she know?"

"What?"

"Did Clarke know that you and him were in a relationship?"

"I…" Raven recalled the sky leader's surprised face when she kissed Finn, how heartbroken she looked. "I don't think so."

"So he didn't tell Clarke about your relationship, and he didn't tell you about his relationship with her. That's on him. As much as I hate to say it, you're right. You probably lost him the moment he came down here. If he has fallen for her, there’s not much you can do about it now.” While their words felt harsh, they tried to speak as gently as they could. Raven wiped her face with the back of her hands. They weren't one to give out advice like this, but if it reeled Raven back from those types of thoughts, they didn't mind. “I'm not sure if you're angry at Clarke, but regardless, there's no point in fighting over some boy, especially one who isn’t giving you the love and appreciation you deserve, and you deserve much better than that.”

“He’s the only one I have.” It was a weak argument, and Raven's jarring quiet voice showed that.

“Then you need more people on your side." They purposely made eye contact and said, "Fuck him.”

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Obtaining the hydrazine from the Exodus ship wasn't as hard as Raven expected, and pouring it into a mason jar was even less. Like any responsible scientist/mechanic, Raven wore a suit — the same one she came down to Earth with — but once she sealed the jar closed and set it safely on the desk, she took it off and addressed the people waiting outside her tent. "Alright, you can come in now."

Bellamy entered the tent first, Kova following close behind—

Two hands grabbed the sides of their arms. "Boom!"

If they jumped and busted the top of their head on the overhanging lamp, that was their business and theirs only. They tried to play off the spook by clearing their throat, but that only made Raven cackle. Even Bellamy couldn't hide his snort.

Then Finn entered, and Raven's mood soured slightly. She dropped her hands from Kova's shoulders, trying to play it off as nothing and said, "You guys can relax, it needs an accelerant.” Then, she got into business on how the bomb needed to be built and placed on the bridge. “To be safe, you need to be at least 200 feet away to make the shot and not get injured.”

“Feet? Imperial system?” Kova's question was implied — 'Why use the Imperil system?'

“It’s the measuring system we used on the Ark.” Finn explained. “What do you use?”

“The metric system. We’re not animals.” They refused to acknowledge the smirk on Bellamy's face. "Does the distance you calculated include traumatic force?”

“It should.”

Bellamy laid out the billion dollar question. "Alright, who plants the bomb?"

The silence lasted well under a minute, but long enough to feel like an hour. Finn finally stepped up, and Bellamy dragged him to the map to discuss how to go about it.

Meanwhile, Raven and Kova stood side by side, speaking lowly as to not attract attention.

"So he hesitates when it comes to a bomb, with everyone's lives on the line, but not with Clarke? You see what I'm talking about right? I'm not crazy?"

"No, you're right. I get what you mean."

“Finn, we only have one bomb.” Bellamy’s voice brought both of them back to the conversation at hand, but Kova turned around and organized the bullet shells on the table, keeping their back to the others. “We need to use it to kill as many of them as possible.”

“But they don’t know we only have one bomb.” Finn argued. “If we did, why would we waste it on a bridge? It’s supposed to be a deterrent. Peace through strength.”

“The appearance of strength, you mean.” Raven countered, ignoring the look he sent to her.

“The men who built the bombs thought they were peacemakers too. How’d that work out for them?”

“They were scientists, Bellamy." They turned, eyes lowered on the bullet shell they held. "They knew exactly what they were doing while building those bombs, they definitely knew they weren’t peacemakers. They just did it for the money.” Looking up, Kova's eyes widened, face blanching, and they dropped the shell. "Shit.”

Before he could ask, warmth trailed down from his nose to his philtrum. He pressed the back of his hand underneath his nose and grimaced. "Great."

“Don’t touch anything.”

“Who else can take a shot?”

“Appreciate the concern.” His usual snark felt weak. A heavy tiredness fell over Bellamy's body like a weighted blanket, so suddenly that his head felt fuzzy. He could barely muster the energy to glare at Finn. Instead, he stumbled towards the exit. “Just make sure the bomb is packed and ready to go in ten minutes, I’ll go find someone.”

“Wait, Bellamy!” Kova called out, but he already left. "Shit, he's only going to hurt himself like that. I'll bring him to the dropship — I'll see you two later, don't die and don't get hurt!"

"Kova—!"

"Wait—!"

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On the Ark, there had been a few rounds of the common cold and the like running around. It was hard to avoid getting sick once there was an outbreak — the quarters were too close to one another, people ate together, shared their drinks, etc, etc. Back then, everyone had to self-isolate, and those sick had to deal with a stuffy nose, running snot, and sometimes a fever for a week or two.

Those illnesses were a joke compared to whatever the fuck this virus was.

The nosebleed was just a breaking point to the onslaught of other symptoms that racked Bellamy's body. The dizziness popped up in the tent and only grew worse when he reached the campfire, the flicks of the flames staining his eyesight. He thought he might have snapped at the friends Jasper was with, but that didn't matter right now. Right now, all that mattered was getting Jasper to do the job. After making sure Jasper was at least six feet away from him, he explained what the group discussed at the tent.

Later on in the dropship, once the fever broke, Bellamy will stare into the metal ceiling and wonder what exactly did he say to Jasper that made him blanch and shake so much.

“Take the shot. You can't miss, or we’ll all die.” Once the words were out of Bellamy's mouth, it wasn't his problem anymore. He grew more delirious with every passing second, but one coherent thought made its way through. 'Dropship.'

Staggering rather than walking, he only made it three steps before the world abruptly turned white and his head felt staticky. Wind whooshed through his hair, in his rushing ears, cooling his heated and sweaty skin, and the side of his head bumped into metal before his body tilted towards the floor—

—Warm hands splayed across his back and the nape of his neck.

At first, he thought it might have been Jasper who caught him, and he tried to push him away. But then his hands landed on strong shoulders and thick arms, and even through his delirium he thought, 'Muscles���not Jasper—?'

A deep voice, surprisingly gentle for its owner, confirmed his thoughts. "Relax. It's me."

The whiteness cleared up from the edges and inward to reveal a blurry Kova-shaped blob. They tried pushing him back on his feet, but his legs and arms shook under his weight, and with another whoosh of the wind, Bellamy found himself being carried bridal style, an arm against the back of his sticky, sweat-soaked shirt, another arm beneath the back of his equally sweaty knees.

His mouth felt dry, although he wasn't sure if it was from the fever or—

Kova's cold glare fixated past him. He followed their line of sight to Jasper, who had stepped forward with his arm stretched out, as if he wanted to snatch his leader and run from the grounder. The last of Bellamy's energy went into holding up his hand in a placating manner. His voice was awfully raspy, but it got the job done. “I’ll be fine, go find Finn. Take the shot.”

Half reluctant, half relieved, the boy ran off.

"By the Gods, Bellamy. What did you say to the kid? He looks even paler than you."

Too many words. Head too heated. Bellamy thought he internally groaned, but it seemed as if he did this externally, given that Kova hushed him (gently, to his surprise). Later on, while staring at the metal ceiling of the dropship, his embarrassment over being carried so easily in such a way will turn into a frustration he had never felt before, and he'll end up kicking his legs against the bed in anger, much to the distaste of the other patients around him.

But for now, his neck lolled around, energy finally giving out, and black spots dotted the edges of his vision. Just before he closed his eyes, he heard them murmur, "Don't worry, I got you."

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"…tavia!"

The frantic call of her name came from outside the dropship. The young woman in question raised her head and settled the bowl of water next to the patient she had been looking after. A few seconds of silence passed, and Octavia thought she might have imagined it—

"Octavia!"

The sound of crunching leaves turned into metal thumps. She sprung into action and hurried to the curtains, yanking the fabric back—

Kova rushed inside, bending over slightly to avoid the curtains. It was only when they straightened did Octavia notice the body in their arms, the person's face buried in their neck and nose dripping dark blood against their skin, and automatically, she pointed to the open bed at the corner.

Then it hit her — the ruffled black hair, olive skin blanched and covered with a sheen of sweat, sprinkled with freckles and blood— "Bell, no…"

By the color of his face and the spasm of his throat, Kova realized he was about to vomit any second and quickly laid him on his side, and the moment his hip met the mattress, he vomited. Some caught on Kova's pants, but they paid little mind to it as they pushed the fringe of his hair back. "I'll go get him some water."

Octavia knelt on the opposite side and rubbed soothing circles against his back. "Okay. Thank you."

On their way, they heard a faint murmur of Bellamy's voice and Octavia's quiet, assuring tone. Distracted, they shoulder-checked a passerby. Kova turned to apologize, but paused when they found Murphy's back instead. Jaw tense, they prepared for whatever verbal attack he would send them, but to their surprise, he walked off without a word.

'Oh? Maybe Clarke spoke to him.' Whatever, Murphy wasn't their problem. Eventually, they returned to the Blake siblings with a cup of water, but Bellamy had fallen into unconsciousness once again.

“Kova…"

"Hm?"

"I still have a few hours before Wells takes over this shift." Her gaze shifted, hesitant. "Would… You mind keep an eye on him?"

'Oh. She…' "Of course." They answered. "Go ahead."

Any animosity her eyes might have held this morning were long gone now. Eyes shining, she squeezed their shoulder in thanks before running off to finish her duties.

Leaving Kova alone with her brother.

Pointedly looking away from the mess, they sat by Bellamy's side and brushed the fringe of hair away from his eyes. They leaned down and pressed their forehead against his, only to flinch away. "Hot." They muttered, taking the wet towel and cold bucket of water Octavia had left behind, "His temperature is still going up." A sigh passed their lips. They dabbed at the sweat rolling down his forehead, cheeks, and neck before wrapping the towel in a neat rectangle and placing it over his forehead. “It’s going to be a long night.”

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Waking from unconsciousness felt like wading through tar, and it took Bellamy a moment to register the cold towel across his forehead, the warmth of someone kneeling by his side. Thinking it was his sister, he placed a hand on 'her' knee in comfort—

"You're awake." A surprised, yet quiet voice, far deeper than Octavia's, spoke.

He pulled his hand away slowly. Phlegm stuck in his throat, he tried clearing it out to speak, only to flinch at what felt like sandpaper grinding against his vocal cords.

"Don't strain yourself. You coughed and vomited a lot."

The sound of dry grinding caught his attention, and it was only then did Bellamy notice the mortar and pestle in Kova's hands. As if someone flipped a switch in his nose, the stench hit him like a sucker punch — whatever ingredients they had blended together made his eyes water and the bridge of his nose to crease.

Kova didn't look like they were doing any better, and they answered the unasked question with a wry smile on their lips. "Lime juice, onion, cloves, and ginger. Nasty combo, but it works like a charm. It's also the only thing I can make without fucking it up somehow."

His throat protested, but he managed to get one word out. "Why?"

"My younger sister would get sick often, so I learned my mom's recipe." The pestle paused, they looked at him over the mortar. Whether it was the headache from being stuck in a sick room the entire day or exhaustion from caring for Bellamy and the others around them that made their brain falter, Kova couldn't tell, but it certainly loosened their tongue. "Unless… that wasn't the question?"

With a gritty sensation clawing at his throat, Bellamy didn't want to reply, and simply watched as Kova stopped grinding. They raised the bowl to their nose, grimacing like the ingredients physically attacked their well-being, and pulled away. They nodded as if thinking, 'Yup, perfect.'

And while Bellamy couldn't tell where the fuck the spoon in their other hand came from, he knew damn well what was going to happen, and no way was he letting that��monstrosity of a concoction anywhere near his mouth—

"Stop being a baby," Kova snapped after the third time Bellamy clenched his lips and turned his head away. After the fifth attempt, they let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of their nose. "The things I do for Octavia…" They muttered under their breath, and suddenly the mortar under his nose vanished.

At first, Bellamy thought he won.

And then he watched as Kova pour the so-called medicine into their own mouth, and suddenly, he wished he had just accepted the mortar. It seemed as though the onion hadn't been properly grounded in the first place, judging from the audible crunches in their mouth. They chewed up the concoction further for good measure—

Leaned over his face—

His mouth parted in shock, eyes widening—

'Are they actually going to—?'

Three fingers pried his mouth open, and there was a plop! before the palm of their hand pressed against his mouth, letting the mushed up medicine slide right on his tongue. He gagged, but they refused to move until he swallowed with a thick gulp. God, the aftertaste was even worse than what he expected.

They were about to remove their hand, only to yelp and snatch it back, cradling it against their chest. "Did you just bite me?!"

"Fuck you."

"You fucking animal." Filled with disbelief and indignation, they scoffed and wiped their hand on his shirt, adding onto his anger. "Whatever — I only did what Octavia asked of me."

They pulled out a cup of water, and as tempted as he was to knock it out of their hands, he wanted to be rid of this awful aftertaste, now that his throat didn't crawl with discomfort. 'Huh.' His suspicious gaze landed on them. "Why are you helping me?"

"Didn't I just say?" They grabbed one of his hands and forced him to hold the water. "Your sister entrusted you to me. How could I possibly let her down? Now drink."

“You need to stay away from her.” He warned, albeit halfheartedly. His arms shook under his weight, but Bellamy managed to lift himself on his elbows. He took a sip, then gulped down the entire cup. But when he set it down on the floor, he noted the streaks of blood and the remaining specks of vomit splattered around, including on Kova's pants. Realization dawned on his face, and Kova pointedly ignored it as they took the cup from him.

“I would take you more seriously if you weren't acting like a child.” The teasing smirk on their face only riled him up more. "Besides, it's far too late for that, anyways."

The perk of his eyebrow was a question all on its own.

"Don't forget, as much as you don't like my brother, they're a thing now." They gathered the used towel and the bucket of water dyed orange from the blood. "She surprisingly understands our culture. As long as she protects my brother, and I'll protect hers." Their own eyebrows perked up, the teasing smirk growing. "Even if I don't like him too much."

Bellamy's scoff turned into a small huff of laughter. "Shut up." He looked away with a sniff. "Any updates on the bridge?"

"Finn and Jasper left a while ago. Raven is missing — no clue where she is, but she most likely went to follow them. No explosion so far." Suddenly, they looked over his head. "Clarke."

"Hey. Didn't know he woke up." The mattress dipped when she plopped next to him. Red lined the deep circle around her eyes and dry blood cracked along her cheeks to her chin, as if she had been crying.

"Finn said you shouldn't be taking shifts." They were met with a pair of guilt ridden eyes, and an exasperated sigh passed their lips. "Rest. I can handle it now that sleeping beauty here is awake." 

"Shut the fuck up." Bellamy never had the intense feeling of wanting to smack that frustrating smirk off their face until now.

In the end, Clarke nodded her agreement. Kova stood, patting Bellamy's shoulder before grabbing the bucket and the towel. "Don't die while I'm gone. Applies to the both of you."

"Got it." The two leaders rasped out at the same time.

Clarke noticed the way his eyes followed Kova until they were out of sight. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah." His scowl returned, and he struggled to sit up fully, swinging his legs over the mattress and planting his feet on the floor. His eyes caught sight of Murphy when the boy had moved to another patient. "I see you're letting him take care of the sick." Pausing, he turned to her. "You trust him?"

"After everything? No." She scoffed. "But I do believe in second chances."

His eyes flickered to the cup, then to the mess on the floor. Kova's update finally hit him. "It's almost dawn. We should get everyone inside. If we lock the doors, maybe the grounders won’t think we’re home.”

“But not everyone is sick.”

“Sick is better than dead.”

Silence stood between them for a moment. “You don’t think Finn and Jasper are gonna pull it off.”

“Do you?”

Clarke's sigh broke another moment of silence. “I’ll get everyone inside.”

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The sun rose, and so did everyone's worries. There had still been no signal from the Jasper, Finn, or Raven, so everyone assumed the worst and lined up outside the dropship, wearing makeshift masks from rags. Some even had gloves.

'With such an enclosed, small space, and no ventilation, there's a good chance a few of them will catch the virus.' Kova thought while waiting at the curtained entrance for Clarke's signal. 'But there's a chance for survival. Trikru's attack is an inevitable fatality.'

Their train of thoughts traveled to their time on the Mountain, when they and their fellow warriors had been infected, puking every few steps until it was only acid against their throat. Miller rushed past the ramp and through the curtains, carrying as many guns as his arms would allow, and Kova realized how truly weak the delinquents were. No training whatsoever in 'Earth Skills' or whatever Monty had called it before, no fighting or weapon experience, nothing. If they had landed in Azgeda territory, they would have died within the week—

Boom!

For the first time in Kova's life, an explosion brought relief.

Everyone turned to the mushroom cloud punching through the air.

"They did it." Bellamy's voice startled Kova. They hadn't realized the two leaders stepped out from the dropship.

“'I am become death, destroyer of worlds.'” A murmur came from Clarke's lips. She felt eyes on her, and turned to Bellamy and Kova looking at her with confusion. "Oppenheimer. The man who built the first—”

“I know who Oppenheimer is.” Bellamy interrupted with a small smirk.

“He actually stole that quote from a Hindu scripture, if I recall correctly. So not really his quote." Eyes returning to the mushroom cloud, fear crawled up their spine, jaw clenching, tongue feeling heavy in their mouth, and Kova signaled for Miller to take over on sending people away from the dropship.

Once they knew no eyes were on them, they snuck behind the dropship, pressing the back of their hand to their mouth. This sudden nausea wasn't new — they were well acquainted with how their body reacted to guilt and shame to this degree. But then the mental onslaught came, 'who am I?' 'why did I let them do that?' 'will TonDC and the other villages survive?' 'will Fort Nauk function without the bridge?' 'treason,' 'kill order,' 'my family—?' 

They had already answered a few of these questions when they first heard of the plan to blow up the bridge. There were countless weavers in the villages, and quite a few bridge builders from the Old families. 'They'll be fine,' The one thought cycled a few times while their body climbed over the back wall, stiff, as if on autopilot. They landed, light on their feet—

"Hey."

Kova stood to their full height.

'They'll be fine.'

"Hey." They greeted back, clasping a hand on Octavia's shoulder. "Ready?"

"Let's go."

The two trekked through the forest, following the trail of gladiolus' and lilies.

They'll be fine.

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⟻ Previous Chapter || Masterlist || Next Chapter ⟼

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[artificialqueens]

Not Nineteen Forever (11) (Branjie/Scyvie)- Ortega

a/n: hey friends! welcome to chapter 11 of N19F, everyone’s favourite chronicles of our uni gals being irresponsible af. this chapter begins our collective slow descent into madness so hope we’re all ready. as always, thank u for the love and pls pls pls send a wee ask into AQ/my blog telling me what ur fav part was!!! i heart serotonin xo

trigger warning: drug use (Snoop Dogg’s favourite garden plant xo)

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: Christmas saw funny jumpers, Secret Santa gifts, and Yvie and Scarlet saying I love you but not-quite-saying-I-love-you.

this chapter: everyone is back at uni after the holidays but somebody’s got cold feet, and not because the flat heating isn’t switched on.

***

Brooke wondered if it was possible to sweat herself to death as she dragged her huge suitcase up the final step to her flat and scrambled around in her backpack. She had never been so excited to take off a jacket in her adult life, but as she fumbled around for her keys she began to wonder if she would ever actually get into her flat. Thankfully, somebody had evidently heard her struggling and the door was suddenly thrown open to reveal Nina, just as smiley, happy and excited to see her as she’d been before Brooke had gone home for the holidays.

“Brookey Brooke Brooke!! Happy New Year!” Nina cried, lurching forward to give her a hug.

“Oh my God, Happy New Year baby. I probably stink of sweat,” Brooke concluded, her puffer jacket feeling more like a portable prison of heat with each passing second. Nina patted her on the back as she pulled away, dragging her suitcase inside in a suitably Mum-like manner.

“Nonsense, come in. I only just boiled the kettle, you’ve got scarily good timing. Yvie’s here with Scarlet. I think they may be banging.”

As Brooke walked past Yvie’s room she heard something that sounded suspiciously like a hiss through a set of teeth, and concluded that Nina was probably right.

“I’ll forgive them. How was New Years’?” Brooke asked, finally peeling her jacket off and throwing herself down on the couch. Nina raised her eyebrows as she poured the kettle out into two mugs.

“Really good,” she said, drawing out the “really” for emphasis. “I mean, it was just me, Silky, Akeria and Vanjie but it was such a great night. Kiki went home with a guy that looked like Thor. It was very bizarre.”

Brooke let out a laugh. She hadn’t felt too much fomo at having missed any New Year’s celebrations, as it was really only the girls whose family homes were closest to the city that were able to meet up and party together. Canada was probably a bit too much of a commute. Brooke self-consciously remembered the texts from Vanessa that came through that night, her stomach flipping over.

“Nobody overdid it, did they?” she found herself asking, keen for an outsider’s perspective on the evening. Nina tutted as she handed Brooke her mug and sat down.

“I mean Silky did, but it was basically her birthday party so nobody would begrudge her it. Vanjie was cute, though, it was a shame you never had any signal,” Nina smiled at Brooke, Brooke feeling a knot in her stomach tighten at her words. She plastered on her best fake smile.

“Aw yeah, she’s a cutie.”

“You must be looking forward to seeing her again? Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that,” Nina encouraged her, sipping her tea.

“Yeah, of course! But I want to see my girls as well, you know? I mean I haven’t seen you for like, a month. Tell me about you and Monet!” Brooke smiled enthusiastically, jumping at the chance to divert the conversation from the topic of her and Vanessa. She took a big gulp of her tea, hoping it would encourage Nina to talk for as long as she could.

“We’re good! We’re good. I saw her just after Christmas, we met up in town. I’m still absolutely convinced the whole thing’s a massive practical joke and she’ll completely ghost me soon, but I’m trying not to think too much about it otherwise I’ll get too wrapped up in it and end up ruining things,” Nina reeled off, ending her sentence with an awkward shrug and a laugh to match, Brooke unsure if she felt good that the heat was off her and Vanessa or bad that it seemed Nina was a hair’s breadth away from self-sabotaging her potential relationship.

“Well you’ve been seeing each other for what, two months now? That’s getting into girlfriend territory, babe."

"Oh, don’t,” Nina laughed, shaking her head so violently that her tea threatened to splash. “As fucking if. No, I’m just enjoying it while it lasts and whatever happens happens. I mean, I’m hardly going to be the one to end it, am I?"

Brooke raised both eyebrows at her but didn’t push for any more. Brooke always worried about Nina ever so slightly, like the sister she never had. Nina was the best hypewoman around, always preaching self-esteem, confidence and body positivity, but when push came to shove she could only sporadically take that advice herself. Brooke knew that Nina had overcome a lot since her time at high school- she’d always remember when Nina broke down to Brooke in her first year halls room and had told her everything she’d struggled with in the past after a set of girls had laughed at Nina in a kebab shop after a night out. So Brooke could understand that sort of self-love was hard for Nina to maintain. Brooke had noticed it seemed to come to her in ebbs and flows like waves; the crashing-against-rocks happy presence of a Nina who danced about the flat singing to Lizzo in a new outfit she loved deeply contrasting with times where the tide would pull her back out into a sea of shame, unhappy and upset because she’d eaten a share pack of Minstrels quicker than she’d thought possible and was disgusted at herself.

“Anyway. What about you, you going to ask Vanjie to be your girlfriend yet? It’s been longer than two months for you both and in your own words, Ms Hytes, that’s girlfriend territory,” Nina asked eagerly, Brooke almost spilling her tea all over herself in shock. Before she could answer, the kitchen door opened and in walked Yvie and Scarlet one after the other in a set of slightly crumpled clothes. Yvie’s face broke out into a smile as she saw her flatmate and she immediately ran forward toward the sofa Brooke was sat on, crushing her in a half-straddle, half-hug.

“Oh my God, bitch, it’s been forever!! Happy New Year!” she cried, muffled against Brooke’s shoulder.

Happy to see Yvie because she hadn’t seen her in ages and also because her arrival meant she didn’t have to answer Nina’s question, Brooke squeezed back hard. “Happy New Year baby!! How were your holidays? Scarlet, c’mere!”

Scarlet shuffled forward as Yvie ungracefully peeled herself off of Brooke, hugging her slightly more gently which Brooke was grateful for as Yvie spoke. “They were good. Made better by this one coming to see me.”

“Oh, did you go up to Yvie’s?” Brooke asked Scarlet as she pulled away, Scarlet rolling her eyes in mock-exasperation.

“Yeah, well. Someone decided to develop separation anxiety by the time we’d been apart for a fortnight so had me looking up train times before the bells had even rung at midnight,” Scarlet smiled, Yvie giving her a playful shove before pulling her down onto the armchair and into her lap, Scarlet giggling and batting her away.

“Well, you’re still both as gross as you were together the last time I saw you, so I’m glad nothing’s changed,” Brooke snorted, Yvie flipping her middle finger up at her.

“Oh, and you and Vanjie are gonna be totally different when you see each other again,” she rolled her eyes, Brooke clenching her teeth together momentarily. Why did everybody seem to want to bring Vanessa up every two minutes?

“Well yeah, we probably will be. It’s not like we’re together or anything,” Brooke gave an awkward laugh. Suddenly the mood in the room seemed to change. She saw Scarlet stiffen tensely in Yvie’s lap and Yvie look across to Nina, something in her widened eyes that Brooke couldn’t quite make out. As Brooke turned to look at Nina, the other girl seemed to be impervious to the sudden tension and was smiling brightly at her phone.

“Hey, Monet’s wondering if she can come round. We could get pizza, play Mario Kart, maybe get high? We’ve not done that in a while. Sound good?”

Before Brooke could address the shift in atmosphere, Yvie was replying to Nina. “I’d be so down. I’m actually starving.”

“Sounds fun,” Brooke responded, still not quite able to have her smile meet her eyes. “I’ll go unpack my shit and then come back through. Won’t be long!”

Brooke couldn’t have been more glad of a moment to herself as she flung open her bedroom door and crashed down onto her bed, a feeling of seasickness churning in her stomach. Laying on her back, she stared up at the cracks in the ceiling until her eyes began to burn. She took one heavy, deep breath and opened up her phone. Her gut plummeted all over again when she saw the name in her notifications.

V: You get back to flat okay? Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Brooke tapped out a message as quickly as she could, desperate for the interaction to be over.

B: Yep! Just there with the girls just now xxx

A reply came through before Brooke had even had the chance to replace the phone on her bed.

V: Yay!! You gonna come round and cuddle me and play with my hair? lol xxxxxxxxxx

Every single kiss that Vanessa had left at the end of her text felt like a stab in Brooke’s gut. Her entire stomach feeling like a ton of bricks, she replied.

B: Sorry boo we’re just having flat girl time just now! Just the three of us. I’ll see you soon though? Xxx

This pause was longer.

V: Aww damn well I already waited a month I guess I can wait another day :) have fun Brooky xxxxxxxxxxxx

Brooke dropped her phone on the bed, brought her hands up to her face and gave a huge, massive exhale. She didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with her. She didn’t know what had changed. Vanessa was the girl she’d been chasing for essentially her entire university career, the literal girl of her dreams. She had wanted her, and now she had her. And everything was fine. Except everything was far from fine, Brooke thought as she sucked her tense stomach in and willed that horrible sinking feeling to go away. Maybe it was the month-long gap from when they’d last seen each other. Maybe it was the way Vanessa’s texts seemed to shift from fun and flirty and lighthearted to saccharine sweet and intense. Brooke didn’t know, but all she did know was that any time she thought about her and Vanessa as anything more than what they were now or if anyone else brought that idea up, her heart started doing somersaults, and not in a good way.

Guiltily, she took her phone and scrolled up on her and Vanessa’s text history, looking back at their texts from New Years’.

V: Babyyyy xxxx

V: Keep trying to phone u n it’s going to voicemail :((( xxxxxxx

V: it’s so near midnight!!!!! xx

B: Sorry boo my signal is shit! I’m barely able to text :( xxx

B: But Happy New Year for when it comes!!!! Hope you are having a great night, get home safe xxx

V: Aww man that’s shit lmao dw dw xxxxxxxx

V: Happy New Year my baby, you’re the best thing to come out of this whole year and I’m so so glad we got our shit together, I really really really like you and I can’t wait to see where this year takes us xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

B: Awwww baby you’re sweet xxx

B: You never heard of playing hard to get lol (kidding) xxx

V: Ahahahahaha shut up whore xxxxxxxxx

V: Aint gotta play hard to get when you already got me xxxxxxxxxx

But Brooke hadn’t been kidding, and her signal had been fine, and Vanessa’s messages had made her feel worse instead of better. She preferred the old Vanessa, the sexy and suggestive Vanessa who only wanted to fuck all the time and who wasn’t bothered about cuddling or hair-playing or anything like that. All of that scared Brooke. To her, that was what people in committed relationships did, and she wasn’t at the age where she wanted one of those. Or at least, she’d never had anything properly serious before and the prospect of it completely terrified her. Brooke squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus on breathing deeply. There was no way any unpacking was getting done now, as the top priority was to stop herself spiralling.

Brooke could have lain there for five minutes or forty-five minutes (she had no idea), but soon enough she was jolted out of her reverie as the buzzer went off. She got up and went out into the hall to get it.

"Hello?”

“Brooke, that you? It’s Monet, Neens said I could come round?”

Brooke wanted to repeatedly bash her head against the doorframe. Why did she have to be surrounded by cuddling couples and adorable pet names at a time like this?

“Yeah, no worries! Come up.”

As Brooke held her finger down against the switch to let Monet in, Nina ran out from her bedroom. She’d obviously spent the time making an effort, and her huge mane of wavy blonde hair was half-up half-down in a topknot on her head, her face painted with just enough makeup to look a touch more glam than everyday. She was still in her sweatpants but had changed into a fresh pyjama top. It had Lady from Lady and The Tramp on it, and the slogan “BED HAIR”.

“Is it her? Is she here?” Nina breathed heavily, nudging past Brooke to look through the peephole. Brooke couldn’t help but laugh.

“You sound like the fucking Grim Reaper’s about to come up the stairs, not your girlfriend! Fucking chill,” Brooke spluttered, squeezing Nina round her middle. “It’ll be fine.”

“She’s not my girlfriend! Stop saying that! Oh Jesus, you can’t say that in front of her,” Nina turned to Brooke, mortified. “Do I look okay?”

“You look gorgeous, as always. Interesting outfit choice, though.”

“Well, I want her to think that I always look this good when I’m being a lazy slob around the flat,” Nina shrugged, suddenly tearing her gaze back to the peephole and leaping back from the door as if she’d been scalded. “Fuck! Shit! That’s her, go!"

"Go? Bitch, where?” Brooke burst out laughing, trying to sober up in the hallway as Nina opened the door to Monet, who threw her arms around the other girl and covered both her cheeks in kisses.

“Hey baby! Ugh, I missed you so much,” Monet smiled, Nina growing shy and red as the other girl tapped her on the nose. “Thanks for having me over. I got you flowers!”

Brooke only just noticed the bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers in Monet’s left hand, Nina’s eyes lighting up as they were thrust into her arms.

“Oh, wow! They’re so beautiful, thank you, honey!” Nina smiled, pulling the girl in for another hug.

“Sunflowers for my sunflower. Oh, hey Brooke!” Monet cried as she noticed Brooke, immediately striding towards her and flinging her arms around her in a friendly hug. “How were your holidays? How’s Vanjie?”

Brooke tried her very best to keep from letting her discomfort at the topic of conversation show on her face as she pulled away. “They were…are…both amazing, thanks girl! How were yours?”

“They were great. Glad to be away from my crazy family though. You know you get to a stage when you just can’t live with them a second longer or you’ll commit a mass murder?” Monet chatted away, turning to Nina for validation. Nina screwed up her face and laughed.

“Nah, I think you’re just a psychopath.”

“Mm, you love it though,” Monet smiled, shooting a wink at Nina that instantly rendered her speechless. Monet burst out into a laugh and Brooke tried not to roll her eyes. Why did everyone else seem to fall into their couples so easily? Why did nobody else seem to have doubts or fears? “Come on, let’s get these pizzas ordered. I think my stomach’s eating itself."

Brooke followed the two girls through to the living room, as Nina let Monet know that Scarlet and Yvie were round. Monet turned to Brooke as if she was about to say something, but Brooke watched as Nina grabbed Monet’s wrist and whispered something to her urgently, Monet nodding understandingly. Brooke got the feeling that she had been the subject of the comment.

"Hey Monet!” Yvie called, Monet going over to give Yvie and Scarlet a hug in turn as Nina put the flowers in water.

“Hey ladies! You part of the WaGs of Belford Road too, Scarlet?” Monet asked her, Scarlet laughing and smiling up at her.

“The fuck does WaGs mean, you calling my girlfriend a bitch?” Yvie asked jokingly, Monet sitting down on the sofa and stretching out her legs as if she was one of the flat’s tenants.

“Wives and girlfriends. Mainly used for footballers back in the day but we’re just ballers, I guess.”

“We’d have the full set if Vanj was here,” Scarlet smiled at Brooke, and suddenly yelped, Brooke not missing the dig in the ribs that Yvie gave her. She started to become concerned. Was she making it really obvious that something was wrong?

“Okay, pizza!” Nina suddenly clapped her hands together, making Brooke jump. She scrolled her phone after she sat next to Monet, who threw an arm over her shoulder and pulled her close. “We could get this deal? Cookies, wedges, chicken strippers and two pizzas for £25.99?"

"I’m not sure I’ll want cookies,” Scarlet mused, Brooke deciding she could really do with hitting the bong if only to fucking relax, and that now was as good a time as ever.

“You sure? Not even after this?” Brooke spoke up, holding out the bong and watching Scarlet reconsider.

“What pizzas are we getting?” Monet asked, Yvie instantly sighing the world-weary sigh of a put-upon flatmate. Monet raised a questioning eyebrow Nina’s way.

“Ugh, don’t. It’s a point of contention in this whole flat,” she began explaining. “Yvie likes pepperoni, but not any other meats. I only really like margherita or something chicken-y or vegetable-y. Brooke likes pineapple and olives-”

“Hold the fuck up,” Monet stopped Nina, whipping her head round to cast Brooke a judgemental glare that she almost missed, too busy tipping the weed out onto the gauze.

“That’s disgusting, Brooke,” Scarlet wrinkled her nose up, Brooke rolling her eyes as she searched for a lighter.

“Fucking hell, guys, it’s not a raw fucking sausage! It’s a bit of fruit and a bit of vegetable!” she sighed. Seeing her obvious distress, Monet produced a pink Bic from the pocket of her black jeans and held it out to her, Brooke taking it gratefully and striking up.

“…So you see the issue we have whenever we want a pizza in this flat,” Nina finished as the smoke hit the back of Brooke’s throat and she exhaled quicker than she would have liked, punctuating the whole thing with a cough and a splutter.

“Do you ever just get a half and half?” Scarlet asked innocently. Yvie squeezed her shoulder and laughed good-naturedly.

“Babe, I know you weren’t any good at Maths in high school, but there’s only two parts to a half."

"You like…pepperoni, right?” Nina narrowed her eyes as she tried to remember Monet’s favourite. The other girl responded by leaning in and kissing her cheek, smiling.

“Aww, Neens! You remembered,” Monet smiled, delighted. Yvie turned to Scarlet and frowned.

“Yours is…Hawaiian?”

Scarlet laughed. “Barbecue chicken. Monet, can we swap girlfriends?”

Brooke’s eyebrows flew up her forehead involuntarily as Nina completely froze, but Monet simply laughed back. “Sorry sweetie, this one’s mine. I can rent her out though. Five pounds an hour?”

“Eh, excuse me! I am actually here, you know?” Nina cried, seemingly much more relaxed now that Monet hadn’t freaked out at the label Scarlet had given them.

“Right, what fucking pizzas are we getting? The munchies are going to kick in in about twenty minutes so let’s go,” Brooke asked decisively, squeezing herself down beside Monet and Nina.

“Well, half and half both of them so that there’s four,” Monet suggested, gesturing to Yvie. “Me and Yvie like pepperoni, so let’s do half pepperoni, Neens if you like chickeny things then let’s have you sharing a barbecue chicken with Scarlet…we can make another half pineapple and olives for Brooke’s Satanic tastebuds and…that means we’ve got another half to play with.”

“Oh my God. Monet, can we keep you?” Yvie asked incredulously. “I think that���s the quickest we’ve ever decided on an order.”

“Let’s just make the last half margherita, then we can all have a bit,” Scarlet shrugged, Nina nodding and quickly ordering. Soon enough, the bong was getting passed round and the girls all settled into their respective seats lazily, the Wii soon getting fired up and many rounds of Mario Kart getting played. Eventually, it ended in a fierce battle between Yvie and Brooke.

“Oh, Christ!” Yvie groaned, Scarlet, Nina and Monet howling with laughter at Yvie’s dismay as she flew off the course. “I got a fucking mushroom and I used it…on a corner…like a squandering fucking toddler!”

“Eat shell dick, King Boo,” Brooke muttered, sending a blue shell with her right trigger as the buzzer to the flat went off.

“I’ll get it!” Monet cried excitedly, Nina getting slightly dislodged as she leapt off the sofa and ran through to the hall. As Monet returned with numerous boxes piled high on top of each other, Brooke sped across the finish line and cheered.

“You’re a fucking cheat,” Yvie scowled at her, pointing an accusatory finger her way. Brooke snorted a laugh.

“Hey! No fighting!” Nina chastised, ripping a box open to reveal a pizza with a curious variety of toppings.

“You’re my winner, boo,” Scarlet smiled at her girlfriend, Yvie instantly softening and kissing her on the cheek. Suddenly, four sets of phones went off and Scarlet checked hers first.  

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: Alright hoes are we all back from home?

Okay Then: i’m still in Dubai sorry xoxo

Brooke’s Ford Transit Vanjie: Oo00oooh alright for some xoxo

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: Jeez Plastique that must be so hard for you, thoughts and prayers up xo

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: The reason I ask is because we at Antigua Road want a night outtt

Scarlet’s bitch: sorry guys we could not be further from a night out mood

mose: Yeah sorry ladies I am jetlagged as fuck

Kim Kardashian-West: Sorry girls :( Monet and Scarlet are round at ours though if anyone wants to join!!

Brooke’s stomach dropped as she remembered her lie to Vanjie. Shit.

“Nina, fuck,” Brooke said involuntarily, the other girls turning to her curiously.

“What did I do?”

The churning in Brooke’s stomach was back as if it had never left. She paused, looking back down at her phone. The chat had gone strangely quiet. Brooke bit at the skin on her thumb. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Yvie, ever the anti-bullshit merchant, narrowed her eyes at Brooke. “Are you okay, girl? You don’t seem so good today.”

Brooke was on the defense before she knew it. “I’m fine! I’m good!"

Before anyone else could say a thing, Brooke’s phone lit up. She was being phoned, and she didn’t have to look to see who it was.

Fuck.

Ignoring the rest of the girls, she walked out of the living room and into the hall, only answering her phone when she was safely in her own room. She took a deep breath before she spoke, keeping her tone deliberately, painfully, light.

"Hey boo!”

“Hey Brooke Lynn,” Vanessa’s voice was a similarly forced upbeat, but Brooke’s heart sank at the upset behind it. “Um, I’m just…I’m a little confused.”

“Okay, what’s up?” Brooke asked lightly, growing more convinced by the second that she was developing a stomach ulcer.

“So, uh…I thought you guys were having a girls’ night, and then Nina said that Monet and Scarlet were over…you know, it just seems a bit like the others have their girls round?” Vanessa questioned, her voice measured and calm and small and making Brooke feel like a massive dick.

“Yeah, no, uh…” she began, not really knowing how she was going to excuse herself. “I mean, no, I thought that too until I realised Yvie had Scarlet round and then Nina told me Monet was coming…just one of those things, you know? I mean I’d thought it was just a flat night too.”

“Right, sure,” Vanessa’s voice was understanding, and Brooke’s heart felt sore. She suddenly remembered something Vanessa had said.

“Besides, Monet and Nina aren’t together. It’s only Yvie and Scarlet that are girlfriends."

Brooke heard the hiss of a sigh come from the other end of the line. ”Brooke, can I ask you a question?“

"Sure.”

“Are we okay? You know, what we’ve got goin’ on. Are you still happy?”

Brooke’s stomach dropped to the floor. She had the smallest possible time gap to confront all the feelings she’d been trying to push to the back of her mind, and it was an impossible task. All day her stomach had been in knots at the thought of seeing Vanessa, but now that she was faced with the prospect of losing her she found herself panicking. She still liked Vanessa. Everything was just so new and different. She had to articulate that to her.

“Yeah, of course, definitely,” Brooke began, the audible sigh of relief on the other end of the line making guilt stab at her heart. “It’s just…everything’s so fresh, you know? I just want to take things as slow as we can. I like how we are, and I don’t want anything to change anytime soon.”

“Okay. No, don’t worry, I get it. I get it, and I don’t want to mess up either. So I’m happy to do whatever you want,” Vanessa said, her tone more cheerful now.

“I’m sorry if I freaked you out. Do you, uh. Do you still want to come round?”

“Nah, don’t worry, baby. I think us three are still gonna go out, so sorry in advance if I phone you at three in the morning.”

Maybe it was because she hadn’t seen Vanessa in a while, Brooke comforted herself, her heart swelling at the smile she could hear in her voice. Once they were together again and Vanessa would wind her up and they would kiss all rough and hot the way Brooke liked, then things would be better.

Enthused by her new-found optimism, Brooke found herself smiling. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll make sure my phone’s turned off.”

“Bitch. Cut that attitude or you won’t get any cute photos of my outfit.”

Brooke felt a heat curl in her stomach. “I’m more interested in what’s under the outfit, to be honest.”

“You’re a nasty fuckin’ whore. You might get somethin’ if you’re lucky. Okay, I gotta go, but I’ll see you soon, yeah?"

"Yeah, soon. Have a good night, stay safe,” Brooke signed off, relaxing slightly on her bed.

“I will. Bye, boo.”

“Bye.”

Brooke hung up, laying her head against the pillow and breathing out gently. Things were okay. She’d just had a wobble. She still liked Vanjie. They would be fine.

Before she could contemplate any more, her bedroom door burst open to reveal Yvie who marched in and perched herself on the end of the bed.

“Would a knock kill you?” Brooke rolled her eyes, too drained to be properly annoyed.

“Okay, talk to me,” Yvie demanded, her eyes full of concern. “You’re not fine. What’s up?”

Brooke knew she couldn’t lie to either of her flatmates, least of all Yvie. She groaned, unwilling to think any more about the situation but being forced to anyway. “Okay, it’s honestly nothing.”

Yvie said nothing, instead continuing to look at her, worry covering her face.

“When you began seeing Scarlet,” Brooke began unsteadily. “Did you ever…you know. Have second thoughts? Or any doubts or anything?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” Yvie said instantly, frowning. “But I know where this is going.”

Brooke’s stomach gave a spasm, instantly feeling the guilt seep through her again. “I feel so shit…and I’m sure it’s just a blip because I’ve not seen her in ages. But everything’s just getting too intense too quickly, you know? I’m happy just chilling with Vanessa, but I feel like she wants a girlfriend and I’m not ready for all that just yet. I thought I would be, but I’m not. Actually I don’t know if I thought I would be or not. The whole thing’s fucking with my head.”

Yvie sat and listened to her ramble on, then when she was sure she was finished she reached forward and took her hand. “Okay. First thing is, you’re completely valid. Everyone gets second thoughts about a potential relationship at one stage or another.”

“You’ve literally just said you haven’t.”

“Ignore that. Do as I say, not as I do, or..whatever. It’s a big commitment, and it’s easy to freak out. But I would just remember…” Yvie began, her face becoming pained as she looked right in Brooke’s eyes. “…how long you liked Vanjie for. How many times you were so close to telling her you liked her, and how many times you shat out. How fuckin’ happy you must have been when you kissed for the first time or when you told each other you liked each other. Fuck knows when Scarlet told me she felt the same way as I did, my brain produced the most sorotonin that’s ever been in my body in my entire life. Like, if you think you want to end things with Vanj, that’s fine. But you need to be honest with her, girl.”

Brooke remembered the day she’d finally been brave enough to kiss Vanessa and how her mind had completely short-circuited as their lips made contact. She remembered how wanted Vanessa had made her feel the first time they’d slept with each other, and the complete euphoria Brooke had felt when Vanessa told her she liked her back. All of those memories just made her feel more guilty at the fact that she felt more worried about the prospect of seeing Vanessa than excited. Remembering her internal pep-talk from earlier, Brooke shrugged.

“I know. I’m being an idiot. And I don’t want to end things with her, that’s stupid. It’s probably all the time we spent apart, right? Like I’ll probably see her and it’ll all fall back into place and I’ll feel just like I felt before the holidays again.”

“Absolutely,” Yvie smiled a little as she reassured her. Letting go of her hand, she patted Brooke’s leg. “You good?”

Brooke didn’t allow herself to think too much about it. “Yeah. Thanks for the pep talk.”

“Come on, then. There’s pizza that needs eating.”

As Brooke rose from the bed and followed Yvie to the door, she felt struck by a sudden dread. “Yvie?”

The other girl turned around and looked at her expectantly.

“Would you mind if we just kept this conversation between ourselves?”

Yvie nodded reassuringly and held the door open for Brooke, Brooke walking through it quickly and reassuring herself with exactly the same words as she’d done before. Things were okay. She’d just had a wobble. She still liked Vanjie. They would be fine.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Houses With Teeth | Writing Update

Hey People of Earth!

What is this shiny new title--is she a short story, is she a... a new novel?? Or is she the seventh book of FOSTERED because apparently that series never ends!! Haha.

Ha.

So yes! This is the first update for--yes!--book 7 of FOSTERED! A few things you’ve probably already noticed:

The title is not a past tense verb and we STAN. If you haven’t noticed books 1-6 of the series follow a verb-ED structure, and I honestly became so over it by book four but kept up with it for consistency’s sake. I debated for probably two seconds before I settled that I am TIRED of these UGLY fostered titles, so we have made a CHANGE. Honestly, I kind of needed this change because this book is going to be kind of... different from the others (genre, tone, etc, etc), and I needed a more concrete separation from Old Fostered to New Fostered.

Originally, this title actually belonged to REWIRED for about 2 hours before I decided to give it to the new book. This was my thought process:

Me want new title for REWIRED, this title = trash

*comes up with new title*

nvm i’ll never be able to think of a title better than this for book 7

(I’d like to say my process was more thoughtful than this but this is literally how it happened oops)

While trying to come up with titles for the three sections of Rewired, I came up with houses for part 2. This is what sparked me to think of the title HOUSES WITH TEETH. I changed part two’s name because houses literally made no sense in conjunction with the chapters, and I’m happy about it since I looove this title. 

So without further ado, let’s get into it!

I honestly have been struggling with the idea of this book for a very long time. As I’ve mentioned, FOSTERED’s 5 year anniversary will be coming up this October--AKA I’ve been writing this series for a very long time! I grew up with this series and its characters and whilst it’s all been very special to me in my development as an adolescent, I’m also older now, and my tastes in both writing and books have changed immensely. I knew I still had a story kicking here with FOSTERED, so I could have ended the series I just had one thought that held me back: why end it when it feels like it’s only just begun?

For a very long time, I severely misunderstood MANY of my characters in Fostered. Is this because I don’t characterize and blindly pants all of my novels hahahah possibly. Keeping in mind that the FOSTERED novels on average usually only took me about 2-5 months to complete, despite writing with these babes for 5 years, I still failed to understand them as characters. I don’t think this is exactly wrong--I understood as much as I needed to get through the first five books. 

However, this idea that my characters were beyond what I’d made for them really confronted me when I started writing book six. I soon realized that literally 90% of the cast is made up of garbage people I absolutely love, and that in general, I really like writing about dark, strange, unsettling things. But this realization came as I was writing the sixth book in the series--very late! Though I acknowledge at some point FOSTERED will cease to be (rip), this idea of leaving it when there was, to say it simply, SO MUCH JUICY TEA, would feel like an injustice. 

This is where this book comes into play! Although this isn’t a chapter update (more of a preliminary intro, if you will), I’ve had some time to think about the novel itself. Though I still really don’t have solid footing on the plot, it’s got an aesthetic and that’s... enough??

I made a mini moodboard of all the things HOUSES WITH TEETH. Here it is:

Process:

I’ve been struggling a lottttt with this book lately because I honestly don’t know what it is?? So far I know a few major things like Reeve being 20 and living in NYC, Foster being a central character, etc etc, but the book hasn’t materialized beyond these things? I feel very headless working on this project, which I know means I need to do a lot more thinking/planning before diving in. Because it’s slightly different from the rest of the books, it’s taking a bit more elbow grease to work into.

I recently changed the tense from present to past, and I think this helped?? Possibly?? I don’t exactly know what the story is in past tense, but I also didn’t know what it was in the present so lol I think the experimentation is good for me. For now, I’ve kind of put this guy on the back burner while I work on other things, but I have drafted some of it, the first ‘present’ version in a writing sprint because girl needed a push, and the second ‘past’ version pretty recently. I do like both, though they kind of achieve different things. I was having trouble keeping momentum with the present version, hence the switch, but I am having trouble transferring Reeve’s cynicism into the past. 

I am not fully certain on plot yet because of these things, so I’m not confident enough to share a summary, but I do have some excerpts! With that said, there’s a lot that could change, so everything I share here is malleable/could change. 

Excerpts:

The first excerpts I’ll share are from the ‘present’ version of this story, which is how I initially started drafting! I do like a lot of it, I just don’t think I can keep up with the tense without running out of steam.

This is the opening. I’ll share both from the present and past tense versions so you can see how different they are (because oh boy are they!). For some context, Reeve is cleaning up some broken herb planter pots from her sink after she believes Ethel, the ghost in her apartment, has knocked them down:

The apartment is haunted but Joel won’t get a priest until he sees proof. You won’t see proof of the paranormal, I’ve explained, but Joel doesn’t care. Joel is atheist and my landlord. He thinks Christians are Satan worshippers, and I haven’t ever disagreed. But there’s a ghost. Her name is Ethel.

Ethel is twenty and was murdered in this apartment. A cold case. She hates New York City, too buzzy, too fluid, the traffic vulgar and boring. I intuit Ethel, which sounds like bullshit, because it is. I doubted her and she cut my hair in my sleep. Ethel hates this apartment.

idk what is up with the sentence structure here but:

Once I’ve cleared the first pot from the sink, I work on the next, a wilted clump of cilantro. Unrooting it from the splinters of terracotta and placing whatever I can salvage on a paper towel. The de-potted herbs intestinal, like webbings of medicinal veins. Ollie’s movie muttering. The motor of the refrigerator gruelling and wet. In my head I tick off the herbs I’ve saved so far: thyme, rosemary, parsley, dill. All the pots empty and bagged for the garbage. I grab the notepad from the fridge and make a note: buy better pots. 

In the middle of cleaning up the pots, Reeve gets a phone call and answers, assuming it’s her landlord/roommate/semi-boyfriend Joel. I wrote all of this during a writing sprint with my buddies and I haven’t looked at it since. There are parts I like and some parts I don’t lol: 

Static echoes through the speaker and it’s a telemarketer, a wrong number, a prank call from two teenage girls in Indiana, Ethel on the other line. But then there’s a clink and someone clearing their throat. “You’re in Manhattan?”

The familiar swell of his voice through the line is like the shaft of a finger tracing the notches of my spine. His voice crackles, bad connection, and I want to use it as an excuse to hang up, but don’t. I finger the leftover bits of terracotta in the sink, swirling the mud against the stainless steel.

“Who is this?” I say this because it’s easier. There are not explanations if I’m just from the city. The distant shimmer of music from his side fills the dead air, the melody gentle. Outside, Marty from the convenience store walks her golden retriever, bustling through the suburban neighborhood across the road. The woman who just started her shift at the apartment’s lobby smokes absently on the drive-up. I put the phone between my shoulder and my ear and gnaw at my fingernails.

“Your brother.” I picture him on the veranda of some Delaware beach house, playing lazy games of Parcheesi with Harrison, his hair long and unattractive to the girl he tries to impress at the public pool. Sharing a cigarette with his roommate-boyfriend-co-worker. The tobacco protruding into his lungs, feeding through his throat.

Marty and her dog have made it to the streetlamp outside of the complex; Marty on the phone, the dog sniffing at a fire hydrant. I lean over the sink and mix bits of plant fertilizer and water from the drain with my pinkie. It’s easy to imagine him by the ocean, the porch of his new place gritty with sand. The ice cream truck whirring lazily around the block.

Blowing smoke from the cigarette out the window, onto Marty and her dog, “How did you get this number?”    

“Your ad in the paper. I’m calling to fill that position.”

This is the last of ‘present’ HWT that I’ll share which I do rather like! This is the continuation of their conversation:

“I think you have the wrong number.” It’s the only thing I can think of to say. I last saw Lonan nine, ten, eleven months ago, in an unmemorable daze. Sitting glumly in the shade of the cabin with a magazine and cigarette, staring sunward as we rolled out of the lot. Bristles of burr bushes, mosquitoes nipping at his elbows. His phone call feels criminal.

“Why Manhattan?” he asks.

“Better restaurants.”

“I want to fill that room you’re renting.”

“And what about Harrison?”

“He’ll come.”

“It’s an ad for a couch. You can’t both stay on the couch.”

These excerpts are from the ‘past’ version of HWT, again, the first page or so (unedited as well):

Three summers after my father died, he called the phone in my apartment and abruptly hung up. I’d heard his voice for only a second, a brief hello, and it was only when I considered the disconnect to be my fault—a clumsy fumble of the thumb, that I remembered he was dead. It was an easy write off. My father had been appearing in my dreams for six months before he first called. I told no one because I didn’t have to. I convinced myself I was going crazy. I lit a cigarette and smoked over the herb planter Joel and I had set up the week before. No matter how much I tried, every single one died. A half hour after the call, off the brim of a cornfield, a young woman named Ethel was fished out of a silo and pronounced dead. 

So we have a very different first sentence/conflict, idk what this even is lool.

The following is the rest of what I’ve written. We kind of see the present version strung through to this version. This excerpt also introduces a new idea that Reeve’s been following this story religiously since it broke (which isn’t in the original).

My father was dead, Ethel was dead, the herbs in the planter were dead. I didn’t make a connection because there wasn’t one. I just followed her story on my walks to work, the easy flight downstairs to the bakery Liu only hired me at because she pitied me. Flipping through the newspapers Liu had out front for five dollars a copy on my lunchbreak, stashed behind a bulk order of red bean paste in the back room when I wanted to finish it later. In headlines, from the first arrest, to the first release, to the first plea from her parents—Ethel was only twenty. With my hair up, down, my tennis shoes on, off, on break when I should’ve been rolling filo pastry, I followed her story. Until it went cold and everyone forgot about Ethel and she became unremembered, unmemorable, unsolved. It was that easy, that tragic. 

A week after her headlines ran out, she started turning the water in our shower on and off. She started turning on the TV and ejecting Ollie’s film noir rentals from the library. She started tugging on my necklaces and unscrewing the bolt of my sunglasses. The apartment was haunted I told Joel, but he didn’t believe me. He wanted proof—there would never be proof, and this is the only reason I called Foster back. 

(for context she’s calling Foster for ghost hunting troubles because she knows he’s concerned he too is being haunted why do I only write about ghosts is this becoming an issue)

I like both and I think I want to find a way to fuse both together? I think both achieve different things so this is very dependant on what I’m going for! I’m at a bit of a loss, so I’ve been letting it sit and also being inspired by @sarahkelsiwrites break through with her novel and the beautiful prose she’s been pumping out! Let me know: which version do you like better? I’m still going to keep the past tense for now, but we’ll see how it goes when I dive into edits (hopefully soon!). Who knows, maybe none of this writing will end up in the final thing--we’ll have to see! 

If you’re struggling with novel openings, I feel you! I’ll keep you updated as I trek through the first chapter/sort out my thoughts, but I hope you liked this post! I know it’s a bit different than usual as I’m having a visible crisis lol, but thank you for reading!

--Rachel

[kaitycole]

New Beginnings (10.a)

Summary: It’s been four months since Drake and Riley went their separate ways. Riley has been spending her time between the Beaumont Estate and the Palace while Drake has been holed up in Lythikos.

This is the first part of the tenth installment of My Best Friend’s Wedding.

I recommend listening to Friends Don’t by Maddie and Tae, the lyrics are used as well as it fits Drake and Olivia.

A/N: I really am working to wrap this up but this part is going to come out in two pieces and then the ending will come. I swear I didn’t expect this, but I just write what comes to me, guys lol

Pairings: Drake x MC (past tense), Liam x MC (mentioned), Drake x Olivia (platonic??)

There’s also some smut, so by reading you are agreeing that you are 18+

Word Count: 2044

Tag List: @liamxs-world @lynn1214@mynameiskaylabella @mrswalkers-blog            @drakelover78@gardeningourmet @zilch3 @speedyoperarascalparty   @umccall71@mrsdrakewalkerblog @hopefulmoonobject  @sleepwalkingelite            @annekebbphotography @jared2612 @indiacater @lodberg  @lauradowning29 @dcbbw @araihc-ce @cora-nova @pedudley @custaroonie​

           He’s sitting in the wine cellar, well technically it’s a wine/whiskey cellar because Olivia added some shelves just for his whiskey. If you sent him a letter, it would probably be addressed a little something like this:

           Mr. Drake Walker

           The Cellar under the Stairs

           He doesn’t mind spending his days in the cellar, he actually preferred it to being around anything. In his opinion, it hasn’t been long enough since his disaster of a wedding for him to come out of hiding. It was only a month after their “wedding” that he saw Riley and Liam on the cover of a tabloid, showing off their relationship, as if Drake was never a part of the story.

           “Hey, Walker.” One of the Lythikos servants says to him as she comes down to gather a few bottles of wine.

           “Party tonight?”

           “There’s a state dinner tonight. To discuss the upcoming soc—” She pauses franticly, her eyes widening and she tries to think of something quick but draws a blank.

           “Social season? Whose getting married? Maxwell? Bertrand? Penelope?” He’s confused, he hasn’t been out of touch with everyone that long.

           “It’s best you speak to Lady Olivia,” she scurries up the stairs, disappearing.

           Well hell, guess its time to come out of here.

           He walks up the stairs, letting out a deep breath when he gets to the door before opening it. He hears conversation towards the ballroom so he heads in that direction.

           “Drake! You’re upstairs!” Olivia quickly smiles at him before dropping it so no one sees it. She notices that his stubble is overgrown and his hair is long enough to put in a short ponytail. He had been doing fine, he was sleeping in the guest room, eating regularly, and he wasn’t drinking more than a glass or two of whiskey a day. But once the tabloid cover came out, she found him more often in the wine cellar than in his room. She even found that he had put a cot in the cellar so he didn’t have to leave.

           It broke her heart to see him broken like this, to see him striped down to this raw shell of himself. Later that week she requested a section of the cellar be allotted to whiskey, just for him. Don’t ask her why she did, it just felt right. She thought maybe he’d after a day or two down there, he’d come upstairs, but it seemed he only came out when she was away.

           “Heh.” He runs his hands through his thick hair, it’s greasy from lack of care, “I uh…heard there was a state dinner.”

           Olivia’s eyes widen, she glances around looking to see who could have told. One of the kitchen maids look a little too red to Olivia, who is giving her the side eye. I guess I have to tell him.

           “Drake, let’s go to the study to talk, shall we?” She guides him down the hall before turning around to her servants, “Finish the ballroom decorations and I’d like to see tentative seating chart when I return.”

           The pair walk down the hall and slip into the study. Drake sits down in the chair that sits in front of a fireplace and Olivia takes the one across from him.

           “Just tell me what’s going on, Livy.”

           She cocks her head to the side, he hasn’t called her that in years. When she was a young girl, she hated it, but now. But now it made this weird fluttering sensation in her chest, yuck.

           “There’s a social season starting up in a few weeks. Today is a state dinner to see whom from Lythikos will represent it as the suitor.” Her words switch between no emotion and emotion because part of her is lying. Well not lying, but definitely withholding a huge piece of information.

           “I hadn’t heard from anyone.” He checks his phone, yup still on and working, he even checked his email that he never does, causing an annoying 538 notification to sit on the corner of the app.

           She takes a deep breath. She can sentence people to the dungeon, make the strongest man kneel to her with just one look, she always has control, but here she doesn’t. “Drake…it’s Liam.”

           He snorts, “Of course, doubt he’d be off the market long. Got bored of Riley already?” He stands up, pacing, mumbling to himself, “Maybe we can fix things and get back together.”

           “He’s marrying Riley, Drake.”

           He stops dead in his place, there’s anger in his eyes that Olivia has never seen, but it excites her.

           “Riley…? Already?” He sinks back into the chair and Olivia places her hand on his knee.

           “They have the courts approval, but for appearances they are doing a short social season. Something about unity and not looking so scandalous.”

           He starts laughing uncontrollably, he doubles over and Olivia swears he’s about to fall out of the chair.

           A psychotic break? Is that what he’s having right now? What the hell is wrong with him? Torture victims don’t even act this strange.

           “I’d really prefer if you didn’t die on this rug. Legend goes the first dagger was used on a rug just like this, many years ago. By a woman too.” She smirks.

           He clears his throat as the laughing stops and he sits up, he even wipes a tear from his eye, “Man, I really needed that laugh, Liv.”

           She stares at him, completely confused before he continues, “They think a social season will make this look less scandalous.” He starts chuckling again.

           Before she knows it, Olivia is laughing herself. She realizes just how ridiculous it sounds now. Thinking that making a few stops around Cordonia and pretending to be interesting in others before ultimately picking the American, that you either love or hate.

           “So, am I going to be asked to dinner?” Drake asks, after the two have calmed down.

           “Oh.” She’s taken aback, “I thought you hated those stuffy noble events?”

           He looks at the ground and smirks, “I wanted to help pick out who Riley’s competition will be.”

           “You’re on. Meet me here at 5:30?”

           Drake nods before walking back to his guest suite. Once he’s in the room, he leans forward, stretching his back. He starts unbuttoning his shirt and pulls it up over his head, dropping it on the floor. He stretches his arms in front of him, before undoing his pants and stepping out of them.

           What should I wear? These clothes are filthy and I don’t remember bringing many options. He turns on the hot water before heading back in the room to grab his phone.

           “Oh! I’m sorry!” Olivia shouts as her face reddens and she turns away.

           It wasn’t until Olivia turns away that Drake realizes he’s fully nude. Quickly, he grabs a pillow and holds it in front of himself.

           “I heard the shower,” she stammers, “I...I...was just going to bring this.” She places a bag on the bed.

           He gives her a puzzled look, “What’s that?”  

           She’s drawing a blank on the word she’s trying to say, “Uhm….uh….” a light bulb goes off, “Clothes! I had your clothes from New York sent here.”

           “Oh?”

           “I figured you wouldn’t go back to New York, so I had all your things packed up and put at your family’s cabin near the palace.”

           He rubs the back of his neck, almost dropping the pillow, “Oh. Thank you.”

           She points towards the door, “I’m going to…uhm…go.”

           Drake watches her rush out the door before getting in the shower.

           A blushing Olivia rushes down the hallway before stopping, leaning against the wall, trying to catch her breath, she feels herself become damp. Of course, she thought Drake was easy on the eyes, but she wasn’t prepared for what she saw today.

           Has he always been that…attractive? Does he work out? That can’t be natural, he has to work out, right? And what he was packing wasn’t bad either, she bites her lip at that last thought before shaking it off and heading back to the dining room.

           The hot water runs down Drake’s back as the silence between the song change fills the room.

           The upbeat guitar strumming begins to spread, erases any silence that remained. The slight ting of the tambourine surprises him.

They don't cancel other plans Have conversations with nothing but their eyes They don't hear each other's names and forget to concentrate Hits a nerve and lights you up like dynamite

           Drake wasn’t really feeling any kind of lovey song, but this one he could tolerate. This one, he never thought of Riley when he heard it. There were several other songs that he would sing and think of her, but never this song. As if maybe, just maybe this song was being saved for someone else.

Friends don't call you in the middle of the night Couldn't even tell you why They just felt like saying "hi" Friends don't stand around, playing with their keys Finding reasons not to leave Trying to hide the chemistry

           His cheeks redden thinking back to Olivia walking in. Sure, she was beautiful, but they grew up together and came from different sides of the tracks. Good thing I’m not a grower, heh.

Drive a little too slow, take the long way home Get a little too close We do, but friends don't

           The lyrics swirl around the room, he closes his eyes, letting himself sway to the music. He feels relaxed, for the first time in weeks. Flashes of Riley start to appear before they fade into Olivia. He thinks about the way she ran her fingers through his hair the night of the wedding, the way she smelt which was a strong orchid scent that could be overwhelming but not to him.

They don't almost say "I love you" When they're downtown somewhere, just a little drunk They don't talk about the future and put each other in it And get chills with every accidental touch

           He recalls how caring she had been since he came to Lythikos and understanding she had been. He half expected her to slap him around and force him to sleep out in the snow until he stopped wallowing over Riley, but she never did.

I keep telling myself this might be nothing

But one look in your eyes and, God, there's something

           Drake places a hand on the shower wall for balance before using his other hand to stroke himself. It sucks in a quick breath, he couldn’t tell you how long it has been.

           Flashes of Olivia’s surprised face fill his mind as he slides his hand up and down, adding the slightest pressure to the head with his thumb. He thought of her making that face as his fingers slowly trailed down her thighs, his tongue exploring around her outer lips before delicately flicking the tip of his tongue on her clit. He imagines her moaning, her back arching as he slid his fingers into her wetness. He begins to pump his length faster as a deep moan leaves his lips.

           Drake gets lost in his thoughts of Olivia and before long, his breath hitches and spills his cum on the shower wall. Panting, he tries to catch his breath as he uses the shower head to rise off the wall before quickly rinsing himself off.

           He wraps a towel around his waist, cuts the water off and walks into his room. He quickly gets dressed, trying to shove the thoughts he’s just had to the back of his mind.

           I can’t have these thoughts right now. Olivia doesn’t feel that way, I definitely can’t feel that way about her. I can’t do another one-sided relationship.

           He pulls on his shoes, running his finger through his hair to get it out of his face while making a mental note that he needs to get it cut.

           Grabbing his phone, he cuts the music off, allowing the last line he hears to linger in the air.

You can lie to me and say you don't But I know you do, and I love you too

…

Get a little too close We do, but friends don't Uh uh uh Friends don't.

[albatrossmuffin]

Free! Novelize Prologue Part 1: Makoto

I know I just made this post, but…the heavens aligned I guess? I guess this is all I can say: I want to work on it as much as I can, but I’m afraid I can’t make any promises as to how much I will be able to get done / how quickly. But I’d still like to share with you what I can :) From the beginning then!

Some notes again (I’ll probably put some identical notes in each one because egad this verb tense issue lol):

-I apologize for the blatant irreverence for verb tense; it switches from present to past and back again. So I tried to leave it as similar as possible so it can drive all of you crazy too I apologize for that in advance.

-Also again with the spacing, practically everything has its own paragraph in the book.

-And finally, the Japanese language frequently doesn’t believe in periods, causing a lot of run on sentences. I adjusted accordingly, but if anything seems overly long, that’s why.

Prologue Part 1: Makoto

~Makoto’s Point of View~

 I had a dream about Rin for the first time in a while.

The Rin in my dream was an elementary school student, just like the last time I saw him. However, in this scene he is somehow also a second year in high school from this spring, and also in the same class as me for some reason. I don’t think of this as strange or mysterious. I mean, that’s common in dreams. Rin, wearing an Iwatobi High School uniform, grins at me in the dream; it’s a smile that hasn’t changed since then.

“Hey, Makoto. Why don’t we swim in another relay?”

I smile ambiguously and look at Haru. We’re on the roof of the school for lunch. Haru has been sitting quietly, not saying anything for a while and eating his bento of salt-grilled mackerel.

I stare at Haru intently. However, I can’t read his feelings. Even though I can usually tell what Haru is thinking without him saying anything. In the dream I can’t read Haru’s feelings, and I get flustered. Since I’m hesitating to answer, Rin says: “Haru says he’ll do it, right?” and without waiting for a reply, he grabs his arm. Haru stops eating his bento and looks at Rin.

“I—” 

Rin stands, pulling on Haru as he starts to speak. Also not waiting for his reply.

“Well, let’s go Haru!”

Haru’s aluminum bento box falls from his hands, tumbling to the concrete of the roof and making a clatter.

“Wait, Haru—”

I also stand.

When I look, the roof is filled with water before I notice, and Haru and Rin are swimming ever ahead of me. I’m desperately trying to catch up as I struggle in the water, but my limbs won’t move as I want them to.

“Wait. Haru. Haru—”

   That’s when I woke up.

It’s a usual morning in Iwatobi, on the second floor of the Tachibana house. I’m in my room.

Spring break finished yesterday, and from today on a new school term begins. Even though it’s still a season where the mornings and evenings are chilly, my T-shirt that I wear instead of pajamas was thoroughly soaked with unpleasant sweat.

“Onii-chan, what’s wrong?”

“Breakfast is ready, you know?”

Ran and Ren, who had come to wake me up, ask this as they look in on me with worried expressions.

“It’s nothing. I just had a weird dream. I’ll be right there.” I say this with a smile and get out of bed.

I send Ran and Ren, who were following me around, down to the table ahead of me, and I strip off my soaked T-shirt. The April morning air feels good on my sticky and damp skin. 

The full-length mirror in my room reflects my naked torso.

I haven’t swam since the end of the first year of middle school. Compared to then, I’ve lost a bit of muscle. I remember the roof filled with water I just saw in my dream, and I become a little uneasy. What if, right now, Rin really appeared, and asked to swim in another relay, would I be able to swim like I had then? Would I be able to keep up with Haru—? 

I change into my uniform and go absentmindedly eat breakfast; when I open the front door with an “I’m going!”, my eyes fell upon the grave of the goldfish in the garden. It could be because of the dream with Rin, but I remember the past, and after lightly bringing my hands together [Note: in prayer], I headed out into the narrow alley in front of the house. 

I don’t see Haru at the place the stone stairs come down to the alley, even though this is where we said we’d meet up for the new school term. Instead, a kitten came out from the grass to the side of the stone steps and let out a small ‘meow.’ It’s the kitten of a stray cat who settled in the area recently. 

“Good morning,” I greet in a soft voice. I’ll wait here for Haru a little while. However, Haru doesn’t show up. While stroking the kitten as it snuggles up to me, I think ‘Haru is just like a cat.’ He’s mercurial, and always lives freely on his own. He only gets close to people who understand him. Even then, only when he wants you to pay attention to him. And then once he’s satisfied he quickly and abruptly disappears again. As soon as I thought this the cat must’ve gotten tired of me, and it leaves abruptly; I involuntarily give a wry smile. 

However, Haru still hasn’t come.

It couldn’t be that he plans to skip the first day of the new term? 

We ate dinner together at my house yesterday, the last day of spring break, but he hadn’t seemed particularly different.

  Haru is a person of few words. He’s always been that way, but after he quit the swim club at the end of our first year of middle school, that tendency grew even stronger. I understand the gist of what Haru’s thinking without him having to say anything, but I didn’t understand why at that time he suddenly said he was quitting the swim club. However, I did somehow or other understand that something had happened, and that he didn’t want to talk to anyone about it. So I didn’t dig into it any more deeply than that, and just replied, “Well then, maybe I should quit too,” with a smile.

If someone who didn’t know anything about understanding his heart had heard his words, I think they’d say “that’s stupid” and not believe it, but I at least truly understand Haru’s heart. 

However, the truth is recently I feel like that power is getting weaker. 

For example, for things you could see when you were a kid—fairies, or ghosts, spiritual things—as you become an adult, you gradually become unable to see these things, you lose the power to see them: you often hear about stories like this. 

Haru’s grandmother, who has passed away now, said this often in the past: “When you're ten, they call you a prodigy. When you're fifteen, they call you a genius. Once you hit twenty, you're just an ordinary person.” That means that even if you have a special power as a kid, once you’re an adult that power will start to disappear, doesn’t it?

In my case, that probably means the power to understand Haru’s heart. 

Recently, there are occasionally times when I can’t read Haru’s heart. 

Someday when I’ve become an adult, will a day come where I won’t be able to see Haru’s heart at all? 

Thinking about that frightens me a little.

  It seems Haru isn’t coming no matter how much time passes, so I decide to go meet him at his house. I say go get him, but if you just go up the stairs a little bit and turn left, his house is right there. Haru is living alone in this house right now. Haru’s father is currently in Hokkaido on a job transfer. His mother was here until Haru graduated middle school, but once we started high school she went to Hokkaido with Haru’s father. Apparently in the Nanase household, it seems that rather than Haru, his father is the more high maintenance one. 

I stand in front of the entrance and ring the bell. 

However, there’s no response. 

“Haru, are you there?” I call out, but the inside of the house remains utterly silent. 

I guess it can’t be helped…I mutter to myself, and go around to the back of the house. 

At times like these, Haru is usually in there.

“Excuse me,” I call out at least as I open the unlocked back door. The door is badly built, so lifting it up a little and pulling is the trick to it. Upon going inside, I head straight for the bathroom without pause. In this season, Haru often puts on his swimsuit and soaks in lukewarm water in the bath. Just like a living thing that would die without water, he squeezes in and submerges himself in the small bathtub.   

I open the bathroom door, and slowly reach out my hand. 

“Good morning, Haru-chan—” 

And then I noticed that the bathtub was empty.  In the bathtub filled with water, a toy dolphin is bobbing on the surface of the water. 

In the season of cherry blossoms, it is the first day of our first term as second years, the day of our opening ceremony. 

From the open window, a single cherry blossom petal fluttered in and fell to the surface of the water, making a small ripple. 

----------- 

And there you have it! Next up, part 2 of the prologue, about the same size: Haru!

Also also, I feel conflicted mentioning this, so I’m only going to say it the once. I have added a Buy Me a Coffee link to my main Tumblr page (it’s also tied to my side blog translations). I feel conflicted doing this because I do what I do solely because I want to and enjoy doing so, and I do not expect anything in return. However, as I made it for my translation work I feel I should mention it. As I said above, I will do as much as I can regardless. :D

[urihu]

things you could do when writing bilingual characters speaking English

This is just a compilation of everything that came to my head, you can mix and match to suit you. 

Before we start, the younger you headcanon your character started learning, the better the language will be, but vocabulary will still depend on experiences.

Good language education irons out a lot of mistakes, but it tends to be book-perfect, not living language

Ok, here we go:

misuse articles:

does their native language have definite/indefinite article?

right idea, wrong phrase: at the night,

a apple, a environment

D apple, DI child

follow the rules of their language, not English

if it doesn’t have articles

just do a word search for their dialogue and delete all of it, we die like men

misuse prepositions:

in the park, in the road, I live nearby the station, Put the coat on your shirt (instead of over)

at the morning, in 10 o’clock, on 9pm, unclear duration (is it for/in/at/during? who knows? not your character)

See all those nice multi-part-verbs you used? Fuck up the prepositions

pronouns:

it is difficult enough to remember he/she/it, is  his/hers/its really necessary? beginner and intermediate speakers say no (unless they are really good, in which case make sure all of their grammar is good!)

don’t even think about ‘mine’ or ‘whom’

probably would not know pronouns that are not used in textbooks (good news: singular ‘they’ increasingly is)

so if you want to insert a nice little teaching moment into your fic, you can do it,

but you can also handwave that they did their homework before interacting and thus model proper use of preferred pronouns in your fic, you can do that as well

or hey, it is your universe, maybe they are all taught at school?

Tenses:

Ask yourself ‘is this shit really necessary?’ and make everything present simple tense

except irregular verbs, they need to be misused

what is future tense? nobody knows if it is will or going to, and sometimes neither of them - how do you talk about future in English without future tense?

no relative clauses unless you want good grammar overall

only simple sentences unless you want good grammar overall

‘because...’ is already stretching it

BUT! allow your character to be as eloquent in writing as you need them to be

conjunctions:

anything that isn’t ‘and’ and ‘but’ can be fucked up

especially fun with those that mean the same thing but are not used in the same way

fun with words

wrong context: use cutesy informal words in serious contexts or conversations (teeny-tiny building)

wrong nuance: evil instead of mischievous

misuse word form: beauty beautiful beautifully - now scramble

comparing adjectives and adverbs, is it gooder? is it more well? it is most good?

Misuse auxiliary verbs: Have you ever...? No, I didn’t.

Unless the character  has studied for years or has lived in an English speaking country you can kiss idioms and informal expressions goodbye

Unless you are going to translate them from their mother tongue (which is awesome if you can do it)

word-building

if their language is not Indo-European, greek and latin words are gonna be a dozy LOL (try to explain what re+in+vigorate means, go on, I’ll wait)

basically the same stands for words from other languages? English has a lot of German, Italian, Spanish words and they all have their own pronunciation, root words etc. these are really not obvious if you come from a completely different background and see them for the first time

un/in/em which prefix is it? use at random

also, what are suffixes?

Is your speaker advanced? If they haven’t been immersed in the language:

Book-perfect grammar and sentence structure or utter gibberish. There is no middle ground

Pay attention to conditionals, ‘whoms’ etc. if you want them to know to use them, they would have learned them from books so they should be book-perfect

or misuse them, but don’t use them in informal way it is used in every-day speech unless they had a chance to see it for themselves

Word order:

have the character follow their native word order

let the words come in random order

the character knows it is Subject-Verb-Object but everything else gets scrambled (write a normal sentence then mix place, time, reason etc.)

random native words in English sentences:

you can do it, but don’t have them use just one word in their native language merely to show that they are bilingual

a person that says ‘yes’ or ‘no’ in their own language usually has a reason for this and will use English in all other situations, I use ‘da’ sometimes to say that I am listening, instead of ‘yes, aha, yes’ I say ‘da, da, da’ but I never do it to give a positive answer to a question

nicknames are good, or expressions that cannot be translated are also good

code switching!

talking to pets

swearing, face it, it just isn’t the same

Just for fun:

Give your beginner speaker a very specific regional accent. They spent 3 years in U.K as a kid, close your eyes and pin the map.

Give them a very specific regional dialect words, their roommate is from...

give them good specific vocabulary, and only basic general vocabulary

good general vocabulary, but can’t go shopping by themselves because what is money

alternately, characters with 10+ years of studying but nobody taught them to say ‘period,’ ‘contraception’ or ‘menstrual pad’ - especially for time before internet

Gaming and reading improve English, but if your character has read a lot of Austen and hasn’t watched TV, you can have loads of fun because they WILL speak like an Edwardian romantic heroine

young people these says, they speak their own language and you just hear them pepper it with FUCK ‘ljsidjd FUCK lasjiald aljdifa lajfao FUCK sdaljf aljfa ačfla’ - don’t they have their own swearwords? haven’t their mamas taught them anything? SMH

Are there two idioms that mean the same thing? Smash them together

If the character can’t express themselves, what do they do?

abandon all attempts at grammar, just rapid fire random words and gesticulate?

repeat themselves s l o w l y with paying great attention to grammar

get angry

frustrated sigh and retreat never to be heard of again

frustrated phone google translating

dictionary

google image search is god

drag someone to you to translate

If they can’t understand what is being said to them, what do they do?

repeat the word they don’t know?

pretend they got it?

look to a friend for translation?

OMG I’m gonna stop now, I have to work tomorrow