#i was going to introduce other muses but then thought that might be putting too much into one reply and figured i'd save it for the next- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nalyra-dreaming · 8 months ago

Note

Hey nalyra!

I was hoping you could sort of help put some thoughts in order.

So, what I keep seeing often is the discourse of lestat deserving the murder night vs lestat did not deserve it and that's why paris happens.

On one hand I agree murder night "needed" to happen bc the household had turned too toxic for all of them and something had to give ( and lestat did not seem about to relent on anything tbh ).

And then we have lestat himself saying he would have done the same thing and in a way its his fault things ended up the way they did. ( and we have sam saying lestat needs to be humbled to start a character journey in the next seasons)

On the other hand, there is the argument that paris happened because lestat did not deserve what happened in murder night and murder night was a mistake that claudia and louis paid for with the trial.

I find it hard to agree with the latter (it sounds too punitive and I don't think the trial had anything to do with actual rules it was all armand getting back at lestat and getting louis to himself) but as a lestat fan it was hard to watch murder night and say lestat deserved it as well!!

What are your thoughts on this whole mess? 🤔 😅

Okay, so... I personally think it is not that clear cut.

Because there are a lot of things involved in all of this.

For one - I keep saying - the abuse itself is in the book, so Louis did experience it as abuse, at least at times.

Now, Jacob has said that Louis "presents Lestat as a monster", because he is hurt by what happened. So Louis exaggerates (at the very least a little bit) - for reasons.

However, a tale is also always built on truth.

The Lestat in the book was very young still, and had a temper (well, he does not lose that, lol). Louis remarks on not saying something because he feared Lestat would destroy the parlor in a rage. They fight. And so on. Canon. The Lestat in the show is older, and jaded through loneliness - I personally think that is a great way to introduce the more bitter parts of the relationship, because it lends towards possessiveness and a certain remoteness, because he just sees it very, very differently to Louis, and sometimes cannot really empathize with Louis' actual problems. (Sam notes on that in the podcast, too.)

Now. When Lestat says in TVL that Claudia attacking him was "something he might have done himself"... then that refers to him trapping her in a too small, too fragile, too weak body - for eternity.

He knows he should not have made her. He is aware of that. That is what he refers to there:

From TVL:

But what had I done to Claudia? And when would I have to pay for that? How long was she content to be the mystery that bound Louis and me so tightly together, the muse of our moonlit hours, the one object of devotion common to us both? Was it inevitable that she who would never have a woman's form would strike out at the demon father who condemned her to the body of a little china doll? [...] And on a warm sultry night in the spring of the year 1860, she rose up to settle the score. She enticed me, she trapped me, and she plunged a knife over and over again into my drugged and poisoned body, until almost every drop of the vampiric blood gushed out of me before my wounds had the precious few seconds in which to heal. I don't blame her. It was the sort of thing I might have done myself. And those delirious moments will never be forgotten by me, never consigned to some unexplored compartment of the mind. It was her cunning and her will that laid me low as surely as the blade that slashed my throat and divided my heart. I will think on those moments every night for as long as I go on, and of the chasm that opened under me, the plunge into mortal death that was nearly mine. Claudia gave me that.

From Merrick:

Cover her face; mine eyes dazzle; she died young. I winced at the recollection. Lestat had been condemning himself when he'd spoken those words to her, he'd been offering himself up to her rage. She'd known it.

And here is the crux of it all: "murder night" does need to happen in the grand scheme of things in order to bring both Louis and Lestat onto their journey... they both need to get a reality check, both need to be hauled low so to speak to be able to ultimately heal and the justification is what was done to Claudia (not Louis). And to find peace with themselves.

However, and here is the "problem", if you will - this crime against nature, against Claudia was not only done by Lestat. And that is what her diary entry from "Merrick" is about, and what I believe we already saw hints for in the trial scene when she turns to Louis... Claudia blamed both. "It was never about me." And we saw that already in the show when Claudia argues with Louis before leaving in episode 5, too.

She decided to go and try to kill Lestat, because she thought she could handle Louis more easily.

From Merrick:

To do away with Louis would be foolish, as he is without question the more malleable of the pair. [...] Louis will do as I wish, even unto the very destruction of Lestat, which I plan in every detail. Whereas Lestat would never cooperate with my designs upon Louis. So there my loyalty lies, under the guise of love even in my own heart.

Now, don't get me wrong, I concur with Bailey and Delainey in that Claudia is very justified in her rage, imho :) And... both Lestat and Louis feel the same way, they carry the guilt of what they did to her until the very end.

Now, Paris.

Paris... did happen because Louis and (mostly) Claudia factoring things in) did make a mistake.

They thought (mostly Claudia, and the show hints at that in that episode 6 sex scene when she says to Louis that they "cannot be all like him") that Lestat was the worst.

Like the big bad vampire™, the worst of the worst™, and him (certainly) making mistakes or having a temper or even physically fighting with Louis was the absolute worst that could possibly happen to them.

And that... is the (big, fatal) mistake that is being made.

The show gave us Lestat already brushing Paris off, so I believe show Louis will be a bit more... careful when they get there. A bit more reluctant. Nonetheless, neither Claudia nor Louis are prepared for the old world covens. Or their rules.

Lestat kept them mostly human, a family, because Marius had advised him to do so.

Claudia and Louis, despite their run-ins with the revenants, have no concept of the rules, the viciousness, nor the strength to defend themselves.

They kill off their only protection (so to speak) - and will pay for it.

I believe in one of the interviews it was called "out of the frying pan and into the fire", and that is, unfortunately, very fitting.

That is why "murder night" was a mistake... in Claudia's calculation.

Louis will come to the realization that he "hated Lestat for the wrong reasons" in the second half of IWTV. He will come to a lot of realizations, painful realizations, unfortunately.

Ultimately, it boils down to this, I think (very simplified):

No, Lestat (probably) did not deserve "murder night" for what Louis tries to argue for in s1. Because those reasons will turn out to be the wrong reasons, unfortunately, and likely for a variety of reasons (cue "tinkering" and "suppressed memories")

Yes, Lestat (probably) deserved "murder night" for not heeding Marius' warning. For not trying hard enough, too, maybe. For condemning someone that young. For trapping Claudia (and, by extension Louis) like that.

"I should have listened to Marius's warning. I should have stopped for one moment to reflect on it as I stood on the edge of that grand and intoxicating experiment: to make a vampire of "the least of these. " I should have taken a deep breath."

But he did not.

And the tragedy unfolds.

48 notes · View notes

kylieswift31 · 2 months ago

Note

Your post about Abigail, over half of it doesn't make sense, and it made me realise that Taylor's lyrics and easter eggs, etc, can be bent and twisted to fit whatever muse people want. That Taylor is the only person who actually knows who her muse is. And we won't find out who it is until she tells us if she ever does. So thanks for nothing.

Posts like this that introduce a new concept or topic are not designed to be easily understood by everyone else, they’re a chance for me to zoom in on a topic and info dump by sharing a lot of idea and thoughts at once before zooming out again to share new posts like this one that connect back to this main topic.

I knew that my first muse post would be controversial because I was introducing a new muse possibility that challenges the foundation of every other muse that others are already invested in. It’s important for all of us to understand that we could be wrong because we don’t know Taylor personally. This blog is a place for me to share my own thoughts and ideas with others, as well as an invitation to go off and do your own research. For example, try looking up what an unreliable narrator is and find some examples in the books you’ve or movies that you’ve seen before. Or perhaps try watching the Truman show a few times and see what patterns you pick up on. If you disagree with the references to quotes from interviews then go back and watch them for yourself. I’m not here to hold your hand and walk you through this particular post step by step if you disagree with me. It’s written in a way that’s designed to allow you to understand more and more if you keep coming back to it after investigating pieces of it until you can see how they intersect to create the bigger picture.

When I became more invested in the gaylor lore a lot of the theories surrounding muses felt too rigid because everyone seemed to be repeating the same interpretations as facts. Instead of following along with everyone else I started going through Taylor’s music, music videos and interviews and tried to remain as unbiased as possible as I came to my own conclusions as I viewed every character in Taylor’s story as a version of Taylor with no intention of delving into muses. Eventually it became apparent that there was a third main character that represented Taylor’s muse. I needed to lay all of my cards out on the table to announce that Abigail was my own personal prediction of who Taylor’s muse could be so that I can delve into differentiating between Taylor, Taylor™ and her muse. My future posts are bound to challenge the foundation of other muses, but if you’re willing to consider that I might be right about this one I’d like to invite you to learn about the tale of the blind doctors and the elephant.

“You don’t know what you don’t know” 🐘

We’re all invested in different specialties that branch off from the one thing we all have in common, believing Taylor is part of the LGBTQIA+ community. As we process our ideas out loud we’re all bound to get some things right, take it too far at times, or find something that others might not be ready to see for themselves. Expecting everything that’s shared to be digestible facts for gaylors focused on other branches of gaylor lore just hinders the collaborative process for those invested in the same branch of gaylor lore that you are. Sometimes we need to zoom in on an idea and put all our cards on the table so that we can then zoom back out to see what fits in with the bigger picture. Being open to new ideas and having grace for those you disagree with allows us all to stay focused on the one thing we have in common, Taylor Swift. 🌈

#gaylor #taylorswift #T&A #the elephant in the room #friends of dorothea

7 notes · View notes

thethirdgenesisbooks · 1 year ago

Text

How to Put Words in Your Book - 5 Tips to Actually Start Writing

There is a problem among a great many writers and aspiring authors: so many of us never actually put any words into a Word document. Some writers will spend years developing a story idea. They’ll think of everything; the world-building, the characters, moving scenes, but never actually sit down to write the story.

Sometimes this comes from a lack of confidence. Writers think, “What if my story isn’t good enough?” These writers need to realize that the only thing worse than a bad story is the story that’s never written at all. For other writers, the reason why they can’t seem to actually get anything written is because while they know where the story has to go, they don’t know how to start. For still others, the problem is simply a matter of motivation.

Here are five tips to help you get your story rolling:

1 - Read the Opening of Someone Else’s Novel.

Sometimes, it can be hard to know what sorts of details to introduce first in your story. Do you start with a physical description of the character? A quote? A scene with characters in peril? Seeing how other authors started off their books can be helpful in this regard. I’d recommend reading the opening of a novel in a different genre from the one you’re writing. That way, you aren’t tempted to borrow too heavily, and can focus on putting out your own material.

2 - Listen to Music.

My wife and I developed this game that we sometimes play that utilizes her skills as a musician and mine as an author. I’ll sit or lie down on the couch with my eyes closed, and she’ll start playing an original, improvised piece of music on the piano. As I listen to the tune, I’ll start to describe a scene that the music brings to mind and tell a short story. Similarly, whenever I sit down to write one of my books, I listen to instrumental music that’s appropriate to the story I’m working on. I recommend that if you choose to use music to inspire your writing, you make sure it has no lyrics, as your writing may start to reflect the words you hear. I also recommend not using music that you associate with a particular scene. For example, when I tried writing while listening to “The Barber of Seville,” all I could see when I closed my eyes was Bugs Bunny shaving Elmer Fudd. You want music into which you can put your own meaning.

3 - If You are Spiritual, Pray or Meditate.

This piece of advice is pretty simple. If you are a spiritual or religious person, then before you write take a moment to stop and either pray or meditate. There’s a reason the Greeks thought goddesses called “muses” inspired art. The right side of the brain is associated with creativity, intuition, and spirituality. So, activate that side of your brain by doing something spiritual. Personally, when I was writing the first novel in my Third Genesis fantasy series, I prayed every time that “words would flow from my fingers to the page.” Most days, I wrote around 3,000 words in that book.

4 - When Stuck, Get Up and Walk.

You’d be surprised what even the tiniest amount of exercise can do for you. Do you have stairs in your home? Walk up and down a few times. Do you have a stationary bike? Ride it a little. Any form of exercise, however small, can get your mind going.

5 - Act Out the Scene.

Do you know your characters well enough to know how they speak to each other, what their goals are, and what they want out of life? Then play pretend for a bit, as you might well have done when you were a child. Improvise the scene, and pretend that you are all of the characters in the scene engaged in a discussion or struggle. You may find that you’re not good at improvising their dialogue, but that’s alright. When you say it out loud, you’ll get a better idea of what’s natural conversation. You’ll also gain some insights into what the characters would or wouldn’t do, based on what they want.

These are just a few things you could try to get the creative juices flowing. All of these have worked well for me. Good luck and happy writing!

34 notes · View notes

ask-squip-hq · 1 year ago

Text

(( Thought I'd put together a little something to give some reference points to new folk around here! There's a full transcription below the readmore; now get out there, be respectful, and have some fun. Cheers! ))

Slide 1: RP TIPS CRASH COURSE!

Hello all! Given the recent spike of fresh activity around here, I wanted to give a few pointers & help make sure that everybody's on the same page.

Slide 2: First and foremost:

A concrete distinction between Mun (the person writing) and Muse (the character being written) is very important!

Your audience and writing partners are gonna wanna know whether a response is in character or not--if it isn't very clear, things can get a little confusing to read.

For example, I keep in-universe HRTech content contained within its own blog separate from my main--this helps keep things organized as well! And when I want to break the fourth wall, I refer to myself as the crew.

Slide 3: When writing with Strangers:

Always ask permission!

It's common practice to plan things behind the scenes with your friends--I do it all the time! But when it comes to other people you might be interacting with, you're going to want to make sure they're on the same page too.

As a general rule of thumb: if you want to involve someone else's character in a plot point or scene of your own, that character's writer needs to be a part of the planning process!

Slide 4: When writing with Strangers:

Having an askblog gives a writer the ability to easily choose what they want to respond to--no one's obligated to respond to anything after all, whether it meshes with their plans, or maybe they just don't feel like it. Who knows! It's just for fun at the end of the day.

While an in-character response doesn't necessarily count as permission from the writer to involve them in other narratives, you can always make an offer out-of-character; or send more asks!

Slide 5: Give and Take:

If you spot a blog doing something you think is cool or interesting, you can help them out by sending an ask about it! Don't worry, it doesn't need to be plot-driven, or even in character--you can ask what's going on, give a suggestion to a character, or even just prompt them for their favorite foods.

It's encouraging and exciting for writers; it shows them that people are interested in the stories they want to tell! When everybody is engaging with each other, everything becomes a lot more fun.

Slide 6: Ask etiquette:

Stuff you'll want to avoid:

-Sending unsolicited sensitive content; stuff like NSFW, gore, invasive questions, personal details, and venting should be avoided at all costs--an rp blog is not the place!

-Spamming; don't send messages to somebody over and over again, especially if they aren't responding to the first one!

-Introducing unrelated or sudden plot elements; collaboration is fun, but works best with planning--you wouldn't want to overshadow someone's story with yours on their own blog!

Slide 7: TLDR;

>Label in-character content for clarity

>Invite every relevant party to planning stages

>Engage with others and they'll do the same

>Keep troubling content out of shared creative spaces

Remember: when in doubt, you can always ask!

#/CREW #ADDITIONAL CONTENT

40 notes · View notes

frost-eyed-autumn · 10 days ago

Note

21. What helps you recharge when you feel burned out writing?

Mun Preferences

{--Its kinda hard to say that there's any one specific thing. It kind of depends on the reason for the burnout, I guess.

I think the one that's the easiest to deal with is just pure writing burnout where I know already what I want to write, but the motivation to actually write it just isn't there. That one can be as simple as just doing something else for a while like play a video game, or putting on some white noise or study music to help my brain get into the right flow. Sometimes recharging from writing burnout is as simple as give yourself permission to do something else not related to writing.

Or maybe the problem is what you're writing. Sometimes I can't write IC things or stories for jack or shit, but set me down to write about some sort of non-fiction passion of mine and I could draft you an entire encyclopedia on it in 5 minutes.

Then there's other writer's block that comes from being stuck. Kind of a "how do I respond to this?" / "how do I turn this into something of substance?" or just generally not knowing what to write.

I find for me at least, that kind of writer's block comes from not having worked out a solid idea of what my goals for the interaction / thread are. Of course you're not able to write, because there's no clear vision.

I usually take a step back from actually trying to Write The Thing and spend some time turning over different ideas in my head. What am I or the character hoping to get out of the thread? Do I want to continue things longer or keep the interaction short and sweet? Do I want/hope for a certain kind of relationship to form between the characters involved? What's the most satisfying tone for that interaction for me? Happy? Sad? Funny? Angsty?

Through this sort of self-drilling, I can start to take "nothing" and put together "something" one lego brick at a time. Its not necessarily that I'll achieve any of those particular goals, even when more heavy plotting is involved between me and another partner, but it at least gets things moving again instead of just being stuck in place.

And also, is there any specific thing holding back my ability to respond to or write something? Like for instance, a situation that really just doesn't vibe well with the particular muse, or irreconcilable barriers in the interaction between characters (think of it as, one muse wants to go left, the other wants to go right, and neither has a good reason to change course even if it means going separate ways and ending the interaction).

Chuuya in particular is one of my more stubborn muses when it comes to doing things "By The Book". Specifically, his and the Port Mafia's book. He's an Executive for a reason. Everything he does has some level of rhyme, reason, and thought to it even if he seems like a loose canon. Good luck changing his mind about certain things, so the challenge with him as a muse becomes finding the right justification to make him go along with something he wouldn't otherwise.

Sometimes that might be something like an off-screen intervention by another character (see: Mori giving orders, as an example). Or it might be throwing a new wrench into the circumstances of the thread so that a good reason to Do The Thing has been introduced.

Mind you though, trying to force it too hard and throw in total nonsense just to get from Point A to Point B doesn't really work for me or certain muses I have a lot of the time. That sort of redirection in a thread, for me at least, just makes things feel cheap and unsatisfying. So coming up with something that has genuine, honest impact is key, imo.

Also! Sometimes the problem of the writer's block is you're just not managing to scratch a particular itch. For instance, if you want more meaningful and long plotted threads, and all you're really getting is shallow asks that go nowhere, that's going to kill your writing motivation imo.

Or sometimes its something like you're doing too many long, complicated threads and your attention span is just "No" at anything longer than one paragraph.

Sometimes the solution to burnout is to scratch whatever itch you're not getting already. Obviously you can't really control what your RP partners/other people want to write or send you, so worse comes to worse, you can always write your own little drabbles or headcanons or whatever that has your interest and basically get it out of your system enough that you can then focus on whatever other things you're stuck on.

Also! As a last thing, sometimes its because you're too distracted or inundated by a bunch of other shit. Like scrolling a website, watching videos on youtube or tiktok, et cetera. Sometimes what you really need to do is just sit with yourself and let your thoughts flow. Like take a shower or lie in bed or meditate and just do nothing.

You know how people always talk about having "shower thoughts"? Its because its one of the few places where most people these days having nothing else to do except be with themselves and think. Sometimes the problem is that you really just need to shut down everything else going on to clear your head and find the answer.--}

#Answered: frozcnlight #frozcnlight #ooc

3 notes · View notes

whyisthereacentaur · 1 month ago

Text

Introducing: Modern Monsters

Well, apparently, several written verses about how much you want your muse to return is EXACTLY the sort of prayer of devotion they like.

I’d been thinking for ages about posting some short and light poems in the lead-up to Halloween. I hadn’t really any concrete thoughts on how they were going to go, thought I might not get around to it, then found myself writing 5 in one evening(!!).

The concept, simply put: if the monsters and creatures from various folklore traditions are still around today, how have they adapted to modern-day life, especially if they still feel drawn to their old ways?

Not something that’s never been done before, by any means, but I LOVE the creepier side of world folklore and I’m having a lot of fun with it so far. Some may even be (shoddily) illustrated too!

Getting right into it with one from my own culture - let’s go.

Modern Monsters 1: The Dullahan

The Dullahan originates from Irish folklore, although probably more recently added to the lore than most.

It appears as a horseback rider or coach-driver without a head - often carrying his own (disgusting) decapitated head. A headless coachman drives the coach-a-bower, variously Death Coach, Headless Coach etc., which brings with it impending misfortune or death, and possibly collects and transports the souls of the dead. Consequently, there’s an association in some stories between the Dullahan and the Banshee, another harbinger of death.

The link with the Banshee (Beán Sidhe, “fairy woman”) has my mind placing him as another of the Sidhe. I’ve gone with the better-known term “Fae” rather than Sidhe above - apologies, please call it artistic licence!

So, how would the modern world impact a Dullahan?

Like many in Ireland (and many other places), I imagine he’d be pulled from the more rural areas towards a larger town centre because that’s where the majority of the work has gone. Many in Ireland value our various traditions and “old ways”, and I don’t see James drifting too far from his traditional role as a coachman. If he wants to drive around and make rent, he would have to expand his customer base though.

James’ customers started out being too terrified to risk giving him a less than 5-star rating, but it turns out he’s also a supernaturally gifted driver. You’d have to be, to have managed centuries of successfully driving a horse-drawn coach through country roads at night without having a head to let you see anything. His customers have the smoothest ride of their lives, and appreciate that he doesn’t try to make awkward small talk. These days, the 5-star ratings are almost all genuine appreciation.

After learning from the first few occurrences, he now tries not to take fare requests that take him too close to the hospital or retirement homes, to avoid inducing unnecessary panic in those looking out the window at the time.

~~~

Illustration references Monaghan town centre. Oh, and yes, the poem is written in limerick form for the Irish monster, even though the association between the limerick and Limerick, Ireland, is somewhat tenuous. Because it amused me.

See you tomorrow!

~~~

Modern Monsters series

Modern Monsters 1: Dullahan (here)

Modern Monsters 2: Kelpie

Modern Monsters 3: Kuchisake-onna

Modern Monsters 4: Cuca

Modern Monsters 5: Vampire

Modern Monsters 6: Dr Frankenstein

Modern Monsters 7: Frankenstein’s Monster

Modern Monsters bonus: Frankenstein, Monster

#Modern monsters series #original poem #poem of the day #dullahan #irish folklore #spooky season #original illustration #don’t get too used to those though #s a bailey

4 notes · View notes

fischerfrey · 1 year ago

Text

Weekend with the Grays 2023;The Winter Solstice

Day 02: The Welcome Ball III an event by @endlessly-cursed characters: malcolm stolberg-burke, primrose gray, lavinia wakefield, harlan rowle briefly mentioned: elian goldcrest by @potionboy3, atticus doherty by @hphmmatthewluther, the kenways and the northmoors by @legilimenace, simon battersea by @unfortunate-arrow, cecilia balinor by @endlessly-cursed

December 5th, 1900

The Ball

The ballroom was decorated beautifully with silver and gold and the mood, Malcolm thought, seemed to be rather jubilant. He and Primrose swayed to the music and Malcolm couldn’t help but think of how far he had come with his dancing lessons. He still wasn’t anything as graceful as a swan but at least there was no fear of him stepping on anybody’s toes. This year he had to manage for himself though, since Elian wasn’t around for secret dancing lessons. The memory of the previous year amused him, and he had to admit he missed his friend’s presence dearly.

December 5th, 1900

The Ball

“Are you having fun?” he asked Primrose in a low voice.

“Yes,” said Primrose. “Though I can’t help but feel like something is bound to go terribly wrong.”

“Well,” mused Malcolm. “If it does, then we’ll deal with it then, but for now, I’m rather enjoying myself.”

“You’re awfully optimistic tonight.”

“I have a good reason.”

“What’s that?”

“You see, my wife is the most capable, charming, and beautiful lady in all of England,” said Malcolm.

“Oh, you must introduce us,” Primrose said and finally smiled.

“I think you might be rather well-acquainted already.”

Primrose laughed, and really, that was always enough to put Malcolm in good spirits.

“I’m glad to see so many of our friends, though,” Primrose continued.

“Me too, especially Atticus,” said Malcolm.

“Yes, and some new faces too,” Primrose mused. “The Kenways and the Northmoors are attending this year.”

“Oh, yes. And Mr. Rowle decided to grace us with his presence,” said Malcolm.

“He’s not all that bad.”

“He’s like a peacock.”

“Well, yes, but Vinnie likes him.”

“Why she does is beyond me…” muttered Malcolm.

“How’s the book coming along Lav?” Vinnie’s current dancing partner Harlan Rowle asked.

“I’ve got half of it written, I think,” Vinnie said. “The wrong half though, I’m afraid. Beginnings are difficult.”

“I’m sure you’ll crack it,” Harlan assured her. “Or if not, then you can always start working as The Viscountess’ cleaning lady.”

Vinnie punched him gently in the arm. “That’s an important job, you snob.”

“I’m sure it is. I wouldn’t do it, though.”

“You’ve never done a day’s worth of honest work in your entire life so no one’s asking you,” Vinnie reprimanded him. Harlan was some years older (and several thousands of galleons richer) than her and thus they hadn’t known each other at Hogwarts, but since graduating, Vinnie and Harlan had become something that one might generously call friends. It was a bit of a surprise, since Harlan was mostly an utter snob, not to mention a complete arsehole, but he could also be rather amusing.

“Alright, alright,” Harlan said. “I’m actually surprised I get invited at all.”

“It’s because Prim–, Lady Gray isn’t as judgmental as some people.”

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s because Malcolm and I are mates.”

“No you’re not.”

“Well, we could be, if he wasn’t such a stuck-up.”

Vinnie punched his arm again and a couple dancing nearby gave them long looks. “Stop being horrible.”

“I can’t, it’s my second nature.”

Vinnie let out a long-suffering sigh.

“I’m just kidding, Lav, I’m so very grateful to our gracious hosts.”

“Good, you had better be.”

“Have you seen a lot of friends?” asked Harlan, changing the subject.

“Well Simon’s here, which is nice, he was on my year,” Vinnie said.

“Not many faces from my year,” noted Harlan.

“Because you’re ancient.”

“Hey, I’m twenty-six,” Harlan said, affronted. “Not ancient.”

“Alright old man,” Vinnie said with a smirk.

Harlan laughed. The song was starting to wind down and he seemed to notice someone behind Vinnie.

“I think someone’s looking for you,” he told Vinnie, and she turned her head to see Cecilia eyeing them from the crowd.

“Oh, thank you very much for the dance, Mr. Rowle,” said Vinnie.

“My pleasure, Miss Wakefield,” replied Harlan and then added mischievously: “Tell Miss Balinor I sent all my love.”

“I will do no such thing; I don’t want you found dead in the lake by morning.”

“Oh please, she secretly likes me.”

“You have a dangerously inflated ego,” Vinnie teased.

“I think it is appropriately inflated,” said Harlan.

“Whatever you say, Harlan.”

#wwtgsolstice23 #malcolm stolberg burke #primrose gray #grayburke #vinnie wakefield #harlan rowle #today's post consists of like 65% of completely self indulgent vinnieharlan brotp ramblings #malcolm 🤝 cecilia: harlan doesn't deserve human rights #actually idk cecilia's feelings about harlan but for the purposes of this fic vinnie at least THINKS she dislikes him lol #*mine #*my writing

7 notes · View notes

sansloii · 1 year ago

Text

GET TO KNOW THE MUN

NAME : Marshy/Marsh, Morsh/Morshy, Mushy, Murshy, and everything other misspelling of Marshy

PRONOUNS : She/Her or ( more recently ) They/Them! Either one works because i do not care in the slightest

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : discord! I'm usually lurking on discord a lot so like... discord is my go-to for ooc communication. ( it's princemorsh c: ). it might say "do not disturb" but it's not really "do not disturb". i'm just... very low energy and have the social battery of a goldfish

MOST ACTIVE MUSE : Mikah. No question, no debate--it's Mikah. They were the first muse I had on this blog and I will forever put Mikah first because i love them so much. more oft than not, if I don't know just who to throw at someone spontaneously, I'll throw Mikah because they're the easiest for me to just.... put somewhere. Dakota, Evan, and Wynn come up behind them a lot, though, and right now Dakota has me in a chokehold

EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS : i fucked around on deviantart with friends when i was in middle school but like... i don't count that. so lets just skip forward to the middle of high school and say that i've been rping since i was like 15-16 ish? i'm 27 now so like. about a decade.

BEST EXPERIENCE : tumblr for sure. maybe not when i was like... in high school, but after i entered college, i really began to enjoy it. i've had mikah + them since.... 2016/2017ish i think? and I'm fully convinced that this blog has been my best experience overall. i also got to meet @soulsxng and @feraecor through it ;w; and i'm fully convinced that if not for those two, my experience here would've been so fundamentally different and i have such a hard time visualizing that now lmao. they've introduced me to wonderful people who, again, I think i would have a fundamentally different experience without them being there and i'm really grateful for that 🍏💚 that isn't to say that i haven't met ( and would fucking fight for ) people outside of that but like.... i think i would not have had as much of a motivation to continue writing if i didn't have these two to throw shit at early on again and again and again.

RP PET PEEVE : *does a dumb lil shimmy* i feel like a broken record with this particular peeve BUT like...okay--i enjoy shipping a lot. i love relationships and i love being silly with them and talking about them and reblogging shippy aesthetics and quotes. if you know me, you know that i love me a good fucking ship and i will think about it until the end of time. however, everything takes time. yes, they could end up together but it's not like there isn't a whole alphabet of things between when they meet and when they end up together. I don't want to rush or side step those conversations or interactions ( or ooc discussions about them ) for fluff, even if I too enjoy fluff, smooches, genuine romanticism, n.sfw content a lot.

and if my muse just... happens to not like yours the way we thought they would, that's okay. it doesn't mean that... anyone should pivot ( and i do mean pivot ) to a muse that is more agreeable or "nicer" in terms of... getting a ship. yeah we can stop throwing those two muses together but that doesn't immediately open me up to...making the other two kiss or fuck or say they're dating. esp when you ( not muse, mun ) are very obvious about the other muse being nicer and therefore "you want that one instead". or start getting weirdly pushy to "make it work" with the first muse because they'd be good together. or disregard the boundaries i've set with my muses and have clearly stated in my rules and ooc.

i make jokes and i laugh now about those experiences -- esp because it's happened more than twice. and i don't think anyone's, like... fucking evil for it or i that hate them over it. i just think it was some bullshit because it's the simplest "respect this basic boundary i've set and if you do, i will die for our little blorbos and ship anything with you." it's not a call for anyone to prove anything to me and it's not like... i'm expecting anyone to just turn off any thoughts of shipping my muses and theirs ( because i sure as shit don't ). no, no--i'm just saying it'll take a bit to be actionable and feel right for me to write my muses with said feelings in this way. i'm slow enough as is, just give me time.

PLOTS OR MEMES : both! i like memes for when my emotional battery is like. in the toilet but i want to write something. i fucking adore plotted things, though, and i think that some memes can lead into some plotted adventures! we don't gotta plot everything out, either. we can just throw our goblins against the wall and see where they stick--it's fine with me. sometimes, we can map out their entire lives and still not be able to cover everything that they're going to do.

i think it really depends. i definitely don't think the two are mutually exclusive and like... you can use one to contribute to the other.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : i like to write a lot so i'll err on the side of long threads. it takes a bit to find my groove and.... figure out what I want to say but often times, i find myself deleting things from my replies because they are a little too long and i don't want to make anyone feel like i'm dumping multiple paragraphs on them.

if it's a plotted thread or ask, though, you're getting a fucking novel and i'm not compromising on that :)

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSES : for the most part, no. there are bits and pieces of my persona or things i would say/wear/do here and there.... but as a whole, i'm pretty different from my muses. i... don't think people would like me much if i was like any of my muses fr, though, so i'm good with just being me, myself, and I

i stole this from @distopea some time ago so steal it from me

#ツ ┊ ( mun memes & stuff. )#.more deep marshy lore #.i haven't done a mun meme in hot minute #.but here we are~

12 notes · View notes

helplesslyblue77 · 1 year ago

Text

Your Smile is the Sunrise, It Warms my Heart

Chapter 1: How it Began...

“WHAT?”

The shrill shriek pierced the air and you winced, yanking the phone away from your ear. Emma really was so loud.

“Emma!” you giggled “not so loud! You're gonna bust my eardrums”.

‘Sorry” she whispered, not sounding sorry at all, “I just can't believe you didn't tell me! This is big news.” you could hear her pouting over the phone.

“How dArE you forget to tell your BEST FRIEND…” she paused for dramatic effect. “That your dad is getting remarried and you're moving in with your seven brothers!!”

You sighed, kitten heels clicking on the sidewalk. “I know, I'm sorry Emma, it's just big news and I kind of forgot to tell you.”

You heard her indignant ‘Humph’ across the phone line. “Fine.” she huffed, “But after you meet them you better tell me all about it.” you smiled “Yes, Emma.” you groaned, stopping as you reached your destination.

“I'm here, I gotta go.” Emma voiced her goodbyes and you hung up, turning to the large modern mansion in front of you.

Truth be told you could really use her around for moral support you thought to yourself, clutching your purse tighter in your hand.

Emma was one of your very best friends.

You'd met in elementary school when you had been put in a group project back in the states and stuck together ever since. Your other friend Jùn Dé had joined you in eighth grade and the three of you had been inseparable ever since.

You were an odd combo, Emma with her pink hair and quintessential Korean pretty girl looks, A-Jùn with his shoulder-length auburn hair and a new girl hanging off his arm every week, and you, the loud but easily flustered girl from the states.

The three of you had made quite the picture all through high school.

You could really use one of them with you now, you thought to yourself. But alas, it was not to be, Emma caught up in a project for her Drama class and A-Jùn in his hometown for a family reunion. He groaned and moaned about it two, begging you to come with him, but had been dragged away by his brother, barely holding back from kicking and screaming.

So here you were. All alone. In front of your new house. About to meet your new brothers.

You felt like cursing your dad, too busy with his Fiance on their Cruze of the Mediterranean to bother introducing you. He had apologized, and you understood why, they were newly engaged and wanted to spend time together, but you couldn't help resenting him a little.

Steeling yourself and pulling back your shoulders, you opened the gate, and marched up the front walkway, pressing the doorbell.

While waiting you took a moment to admire the perfectly trimmed gardens. The rows of pink roses, yellow daffodils, and purple lavender painted a stunning picture. The large white fountain, a statue of Venus in the center, water erupting from her hands. You let yourself relax, this place was beautiful and so, so peaceful.

You were jolted out of your musings by the sound of a throat being cleared and you startled, face on fire, turning back to the door.

“You must be our new sister.” you nodded. “I'm Name,” you said, trying to keep your voice under control.

This was so embarrassing, your new brother had caught you daydreaming and on top of that, he was handsome. So handsome.

You blushed. “Nice to meet you, Name,” he said, once again pulling you out of your embarrassing thoughts. “Im Seokjin, the eldest.” he smiled at you kindly and you thought you might melt into a puddle right then and there.

“It's nice to meet you.” you managed. You needed to get yourself under control! It didn't matter how handsome your new brother was, he was off-limits.

They all were.

With this sobering thought, you smiled right back at him and followed him as he stepped aside, showing you into the house.

The house was large, with art pieces hanging along the walls and large vases of those beautiful flowers you spotted outside on each table. As you walked into the living room you noticed a grand piano in the corner and you almost squealed.

A grand Piano! And a concert-style one too! Your inner pianist was squealing in delight and you turned excitedly to your new brother.

“Is that a concert piano? Can I play it? Is it in tune?” you babbled out, eyes sparkling with excitement. Seokjin smiled, charmed by your enthusiasm. “You play piano?” he asked.

You nodded, “yes, I've played for a while now. Since I was 14.” he smiled again, “You’ll have to ask Yoongi, it's his.” he responded, ruffling your hair. You nodded, storing the information away for later.

A concert Piano! A Big House, and a handsome older brother!! You certainly were winning in life, Emma would have a field day.

Seokjin grinned. Your enthusiasm was adorable, he certainly was lucky to have such a cute younger sister.

“Your room is this way,” he said, leading you up the stairs and into a long hallway.

“We all room on this floor. This one is mine, Taehyung and Jimin are next. You're between Yoongi and Jungkook, Namjoon and Hoesok at the end.” he gestured to your room.

“All the rooms have nameplates on them, so it's pretty easy to tell whose is whose.” you looked up at him.

“Are the others here yet?’ he shook his head, leading you to your own bedroom and opening the door. “Jimin and Hoesok are both at part-time jobs, Yoongi’s napping in his room, Namjoon and Taehyung are both out grocery shopping and Jungkook had a school function he had to go to.”

You stepped into your room and your jaw dropped.

It was huge! Way bigger than your old room. Large floor-to-ceiling windows, covered with light blue drapes and a huge king bed.

A door attached led to another room and you opened it, practically screaming when you saw the large walk-in closet. “Is the room ok?” you turned to Seokjin. “Oh, it's perfect!” you said, excitement scrawled all across your face.

Seokjin grinned happily. “I'm glad you like it. The bathroom is down the hallway. Unfortunately, we only have one on this floor, so I hope you don't mind sharing.” you nodded excitedly barely hearing his words as you rushed over to peer out the windows, into the garden below.

“Take your time to unpack and explore a little.” Seokjin left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

❀❀❀

It took no time at all to unpack your purse and small overnight bag and as soon as you were finished you headed downstairs.

Your plan was to go back to your apartment in a few days when A-Sang came back to pick up the rest of your boxes and fully move in by the end of the week. He had offered to help you and you desperately needed it.

You owned way too many clothes.

You followed the sounds of voices to the kitchen and froze. Seokjin noticed you and smiled, waving you over.

“Name, this is Namjoon and Taehyung.” You walked over, ignoring how handsome your new brothers were, and smiled at them.

“It's nice to meet you.” you started.

Before you could continue you were enveloped by the smell of flowers as 178 centimeters of cute boy embraced you in his arms. “Taeyhyung,” he murmured, nuzzling your neck.

“Nice to meet you, Noona.” You squeaked and hugged him back, hiding your red face in his tee shirt.

“Nice to meet you too,” you said. You liked to think you were immune to pretty people.

You were pretty enough and had attracted a lot of staring. Emma was drop-dead gorgeous and A-Sang was a delicate type of sexy. You had thought you were immune. But this day was very quickly proving you wrong.

If the rest of your brothers were this handsome you were in trouble. You needed to get a hold of yourself.

Pulling your head away from Taehyung’s shoulder, you smiled at the other one, standing awkwardly by the door, rubbing the back of his neck. “You must be Namjoon, it's nice to meet you.” he grinned at you, shaking the offered hand. “Nice to meet you, Name.”

He seemed pleasant. Grinning at you in a friendly way as he shook your hand firmly. His hand was big, much larger than your own, and enveloped yours.

Jin spoke suddenly, shocking you out of your daze. “Tae, Namjoon, go put the groceries away.” Taehyung reluctantly pulled himself off your back and picked up the groceries, following Namjoon into the pantry.

Seokjin smiled at you apologetically, “I'm sorry about Taehyung, he is pretty touchy when he's sleepy.” You shook your head, smiling back. “Oh, it's no problem, Seokjin. I appreciate how welcoming you all have been.”

“It's no problem, and by the way,” he started, scratching the back of his neck, “You can call me Jin-Oppa if you want.” He could feel the tips of his ears burning. You blushed a little, “Ok Jin-Oppa, is there anything I can help with?”

Jin grinned, grateful for an escape, and nodded, “I'd love it if you could help with dinner.” he said, gesturing toward the kitchen. “Can you start the rice?”

You nodded and followed him into the kitchen, taking a few deep breaths to calm your red face.

❀❀❀

By the time you and Jin had finished dinner, it was already 6:30. You heard the door slam open and Jin smirked

“Sounds like Jungkook” he said, setting out the places. “Our youngest, he's still in University.”

“What school does he go to?” you asked, “-------- University.” you smile. “Oh, I knew that name sounded familiar. We go to the same university!”

Jin looks at you in surprise, “We have a shared class as well, English.”

You look up as you hear footsteps, eyes landing on the familiar figure of Jungkook. You smile, giving him a little wave.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

Jungkook freezes, staring at you, his face flushing an embarrassing red.

“Name.” he says, pushing his hair out of his eyes, “what are you doing here.”

You smile at him, “Surprise!” you exclaim thoroughly cheered up by the sight of a friendly face, “I'm your new step-sister!”

Jungkook stares at you, mouth open, before he abruptly turns, running back upstairs. You frown, feeling a little hurt.

Noticing your expression, Jin just shakes his head. “I'm sure he was just surprised, Name.” You nodded, “yeah, of course.” going back to setting the table. It was bound to be just as confusing for them as it was for you. You were so grateful to Jin and the others for being so kind and welcoming. You hoped the other brothers could eventually accept you as family, Jungkook as well.

The opening notes of Pretty Woman blasted from your pocket and you jumped, smiling nervously at Jin. “Sorry it's my friend.” he nodded at you and whispered a soft, “Dinners in twenty minutes”.

You gave him a thumbs up and slipped out of the kitchen into the living room, collapsing on the sofa.

As soon as you picked up the phone, Emma’s excited voice reached your eardrums.

“Name, How did it go? Did you meet your brothers? Are they hot? Are they nice?”

You laughed, cutting her off.

“Hello, Emma, nice to talk to you again.”

She huffed impatiently.

“Yes Emma, I met my brothers.” you started switching to Mandarin.

“They're all very nice. And unfortunately, the ones I've met are very handsome,” you admitted, hoping none of the boys spoke Mandarin.

You couldn't use English, you knew Namjoon spoke it fluently. It was at times like this you thanked your father for forcing you to learn Korean and Mandarin when you were yonger, your native language English.

“They have all been very welcoming.” you switched back to Korean. “And my bedroom is huge bro!”

She giggled, “girl you better invite me over STAT, I need to see those handsome brothers of yours.”

“Shush!” you hissed at her through the phone.

She laughed at you. “Anyway, A-Jùn just called me. He said he's getting back tonight. He should call you soon.”

“Done with the reunion already?” you asked.

A-Sang’s relatives were sticky and you doubted they would let him go early.

“Yeah, I couldn't believe it either.” Emma responded, “He didn't tell me why though, something about family drama.” you nodded, you should probably expect a call later that evening.

“Emma, call me on face-time, and I'll give you a tour of the room.” Emma’s shriek of delight followed you as you ran up the stairs.

#bts x reader #bts #min yoongi x reader #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #jung hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #taehyung x reader #park jimin x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #mariannacrxss

15 notes · View notes

taomyou · 1 year ago

Text

The Romance of Reimbursements - Chapter 17

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader Status: COMPLETED Summary: There’s a guy you see every Friday on bus 143, and you think he’s pretty hot. It wouldn’t hurt to tell your best friend about him, would it? or, you and Levi take the same bus home from work every Friday, and you fall in love slowly, clumsily, and with all the time in the world to fold as many paper stars as your heart desires. Word Count: 7.0k Tags: slow burn, friends to lovers, modern au, office au, fluff, romance, meet-cute, matchmaking (A/N: this fic is entirely available on ao3 here if you would like to read it there instead!) Chapter Navigation Accompanying Playlist

nothing

You're in the middle of getting ready for dinner when you hear a knock at your door. You go to check the time on your phone: 4:38 PM.

Huh, Hange isn't due to come get you until 5, but them being over early is fine with you. You put your phone back down on the bathroom counter, and you go to open your door, makeup done and dressed in pajamas.

Imagine your surprise when, instead of your eccentric best friend, you see your parents.

"What're you doing here?"

Your mom beams at you and raises the bag in her hand. "We brought something for you!" Your dad awkwardly raises his hand in a wave, and you blink before mindlessly moving out of the way to let them in.

Your mom sets down the bag at the dining table before her and your dad both get situated at your couch, and you excuse yourself quickly to go back to the bathroom where you call Hange.

After a couple of rings, they pick up the phone. "Hi! You ready yet?"

"Yeah, about that, I might need to skip on dinner today."

"What? Why? You were the one to suggest we take advantage of the Mother's Day discount for the restaurant!"

You groan. "I know, but my parents are here."

"'Here,' as in, at your place?"

You nod, biting at your cheek. "Yeah."

"Don't they still live in your hometown? That's, like, two hours from here."

"That's what I'm saying!" You exclaim. You put your phone on speaker and set it back on the counter as you go to start taking off your makeup, "I have no idea when they're leaving, but it’s probably not for a while, so you guys can head to dinner without me."

"Sure, but are you good? I thought you liked your parents."

You reach for the makeup-remover after wetting your face. "I do, but I still feel bad for bailing on plans with you guys,” you muse. “And you know how they are, they’re so nosy.”

They laugh. “Yeah, but I relate to them like that! Gossiping with your mom is so fun!”

“I never should’ve introduced you to them,” you groan.

“It was inevitable, we’re best friends and neighbors! But don’t worry about missing dinner! It’s Mother’s Day anyway, you should spend time with them.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I was thinking about making the drive over to them, but my car’s still in the shop.”

“Oh yeah! What was even wrong with it?”

“No idea, I think it’s something with the engine?”

“I’d ask if the mechanic overcharged you, but you probably wouldn’t even notice.”

You hum, gently scrubbing at your face. “Just because I let you use my money willy-nilly doesn’t mean I let everyone take advantage of me.”

They laugh over the line. “Perks of being friends with a lawyer! Anyway, did he give you a date for you to pick it up yet?”

“I don’t really need my car for work or anything, so I just told him that I’m fine with whatever. He said Saturday at the latest, so I’ll probably take the bus to get it then.” You hear a knock at the bathroom door, so you splash water onto your face with one hand and grab a small towel with the other. “I gotta go, but have fun tonight!”

“You too! I’ll text you about it when I’m home!”

“Mhm!” You hear the ending dial tone, and you bring your towel up to your face to pat it dry as you step out into the main living room. “Sorry, did one of you need the bathroom?”

“Oh, no, we were just wondering what you were doing,” your mom tells you. You nod awkwardly, and you go to sit next to them on the couch.

“The place is so clean now! I still remember when we’d have to come over during your schooling to help clean,” she says, looking around the space. “It feels like just yesterday we were visiting you here for the first time.”

You roll your eyes. “You say that every time you’ve been here.”

Your father gets up to go get the back your mother had on her earlier, and he brings it back to you.

You take it from him and set it on your lap before peeking inside. “What’s this?”

“Your brother got us a tea set, but we have the exact same one at home already.”

Your brother called you earlier in the week asking what he should get your mom for Mother’s Day, but you definitely did not include a tea set in your list of gift ideas. To be fair, he’s away at university, so he probably didn’t know he got something they already had. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep it?”

Your mother waves you off. “It’s just me and your father at home nowadays, we don’t need anymore tableware.”

You get up and go to the sink to wash it, and you get a kettle going so you can make some tea for them. They probably aren’t leaving anytime soon, so you might as well make them feel comfortable while they’re here.

Luckily, you got plenty of groceries yesterday, and you’re able to figure out something that could adequately feed the three of you. You spend the next couple of hours cooking with your mother in your small kitchen space, and your father listens from the dining table. Your mother eventually takes over the cooking and asks if you could make dessert, and you nod before going to get started on that.

You don’t mind, really. You don’t get much chance to go and visit anymore, with work being as strenuous as it is, but you do love your parents, no matter how nosy they may be.

As you’re mixing together the batter for the spice loaf you’ll be making for dessert, your mom asks about anything and everything.

“Are you seeing anyone nowadays, honey?” She prods.

You sigh. Of all the things she likes to ask you about, you dread this the most. She’s definitely not rude about it, but you know she’s waiting for you to introduce someone to them.

“No, mom, I would’ve told you if I was.”

She asks you where the bowls are, and you direct her to them so she can start setting up the table. You finish up with getting the batter into a prepared tin, and you slide that into the oven before joining your parents at the table. You give your thanks, and the three of you start eating.

After a bit more talking about work and how things are going in your hometown, the oven beeps, and you go to take that out to cool before returning to the table. Apparently, in the maybe two minutes that you were gone to take care of that, your mother goes back to the topic of you dating.

“I didn’t know if you would tell me you were seeing someone, young people these days don’t tell their parents anything,” she laments. “Do you need me to set you up with anyone? Your father’s coworker’s son is a handsome fellow.”

You cringe, wincing as you go to take another bite of your food. “I do not need any more people meddling with my love life.”

“More? Is someone else scheming to get you a partner?” Your father asks.

“Oh, oh! Is it Hange?”

And of course, you hear a knock at your door right then-and-there. It probably is them, but before you can get up from the table to open the door for them, your mother goes to do it for you.

“Oh my gosh, hello!”

Hange wraps up your mother in a big hug, and your mom returns the gesture. You and your dad exchange looks across the table, but neither of you say anything. The two let go of each other fairly quickly, and your soul just about leaves your body when you see Erwin and Levi coming in too.

Well, this is just fucking great.

Erwin introduces himself to your mother with a firm handshake and a smile, and your mom looks over at you all-the-while with a knowing smile on her face. You have to bury your face in your hands, and your dad just laughs at your misery. Hange’s joined you at the table by now, so they chime in too with their own giggles.

You peek out between your fingers to see that Levi’s now the one in front of your mom, and you’re terrified to see what will happen. Your mother likes warm personalities like Erwin’s and Hange’s, and you have no idea how she’ll receive Levi’s comparatively colder one.

You can’t hear what he says over Hange’s laughter next to you and Erwin’s conversation with your father, but you can only assume it goes well enough when your mom and Levi come back to the table, her with a new bag.

She sets the bag on the table, and she takes out what looks like a case of desserts. “Ooh, this looks delicious!”

“Levi picked it out at the restaurant!” Hange praises, patting their friend on the back loudly.

He just nods, and your parents laugh at his awkwardness. “Well, thank you, Levi,” your mom says.

You continue eating dinner quietly, though it seems that your parents have forgotten about it entirely when they leave the table to go to the couch. Erwin talks with your father and Hange with your mother, so that leaves you and Levi to hang out with each other. You watch the four as they all chat on the couch, slowly taking bites of your food.

“I’m not going to be on the bus on Friday,” Levi tells you.

You turn to look at him. “Any particular reason why?”

He pauses before answering. “There’s some business I have to take care of.”

You hum before leaning over slightly to bump your shoulder against his. “Have fun, then.”

“Yeah.”

In the last month, things haven’t changed between the two of you, and you like that.

You like that you’re able to spend time with him without having to overcomplicate things by throwing in any romantic undertones. You like that your heart doesn’t go into practical cardiac arrest whenever he accidentally touches you, that his hands feel warm against yourself when you help him make his stars.

You eventually finish with your meal, and you get that cleaned up while everyone else talks. There’s a lot of pointing and whispering from the four figures on the couch, but you can’t be bothered to pay any mind to that right now.

Levi helps you with drying the dishes, which is as much as you’ll ever let him do, and the two of you join the others at the couch when you’re done.

Before you can even join in on their conversations, Hange gets up and dusts off the front of their pants. “Well, it was nice being here, but the new episode of The Bachelor airs in fifteen minutes, and I can’t miss it!”

“Since when did you care about trashy TV?” Levi asks.

“Since always!” They scoff. “It's so entertaining! Like watching a social experiment!”

“You know those shows are all scripted, right?”

They tut at you, waving their finger at you. “That’s another level of complexity! The people who write these shows are actual geniuses, and we must appreciate their efforts.”

And just like that, Hange’s out of your apartment. Erwin’s just as quick with his exit, citing a burning desire to catch the 9 PM radio in his car (who the fuck listens to the radio?), and they both leave behind Levi.

He’s hesitant to leave, probably intimidated by your parents, but when your dad approaches him, you know that he’s definitely intimidated by them.

“What do you do for work?”

You look to your mom to silently ask for her to get your dad away from Levi, but she only smiles at the interaction, so you hope Levi can survive your father for what is hopefully only a thirty-second interrogation.

Man, Erwin was probably just going through the same thing just now.

“I’m a professor at Sina University in the architectural studies department, and I’m a freelance architect.”

You see your dad nod in approval, though it’s especially strange that he’s so serious about it. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-nine.”

“Do you own or rent?”

“I own.”

“How much student debt do you have? I’ve heard that architects have a lot of school to get through.”

“None, sir. I was on scholarship and grants.”

“Do you have insurance?”

“Yes.”

“Do you drink or smoke?”

“I drink socially during work events, and I do not smoke.”

“What is your highest degree of education?”

“I have a Master’s in architecture.”

“Do you have any children from previous relationships?”

“No.”

That time, you want to scream for the disaster to stop, but your dad just keeps going.

“How long have you known my daughter?”

“Since September.”

You suppose you wouldn’t know either if you were asked that question, but September works.

Still, you can only watch in horror as the interaction drags on, but you’re grateful that Levi apparently hasn’t backed down. You have to peek through your fingers to even look in their direction, unable to keep your eyes on the car crash happening in front of you.

What the fuck is wrong with your dad? Levi’s just your friend, why does he care about all of this? You don’t even care about it! And why hasn’t your mom intervened at all?

“What car do you have?”

“I don’t care about my car, it’s just a car.”

Fucking finally, your dad smiles and moves to pat Levi on the back with a laugh. “Good for you, son!”

Levi can only awkwardly nod in acknowledgement, which gets yet another laugh out of your parents.

Having enough of their… whatever the fuck they’re doing, you slip in between your dad and Levi and put your arms over both their shoulders, a big, sarcastic grin on your face.

“Levi actually has a work conference to go to, he was just staying to be polite.”

Your mom nods in understanding, believing your lie. “That’s okay, we were just about to head out too.”

“It’s already 9, are you sure you can make the drive back home right now?” You ask.

“Your mother and I are going to stay at a resort, actually. It’s not too far from here.”

“Oh, that sounds fun,” you tell them. “Do you want me to walk you back to your car?”

Your mom waves you off. “No, no, don’t worry about us. You can walk Levi out to his, though!”

You and Levi look at each other but don’t say anything.

“Uh, sure?”

Your mother makes sure to thank Levi again for the dessert case, completely forgetting about the spice loaf that she wanted you to make, and her and your father are out of the door in a matter of seconds.

“What just happened?”

“I have no idea,” you say. “There’s a spice loaf she forgot to take, if you wanted it instead.”

“What the fuck is a spice loaf?”

You shrug. “I don’t know why it’s called a loaf, it’s pretty much just a cake.”

“Sure,” he sighs, rubbing at the side of his head. “Hange made me try this fucking horrendous cheesecake at the restaurant, I’ll eat anything at this point to get rid of the taste.”

You laugh, and you guide him back over to your kitchen. The loaf is cool enough now, so you quickly get on some disposable gloves before cutting it up into more manageable slices.

Levi somehow finds the cellophane bags on his own, and he helps you wrap it up before you take off your gloves and wash your hands. After that, you grab a bag for him to put the slices into, and you and him are back at your doorway, about ready to say your “get home safe”s.

But first, you have to apologize for your parents.

“Sorry about my parents,” you cringe. “And for skipping on dinner.”

“Your parents were a lot.”

You sigh. “I know, hopefully they don’t come on as strong to you if you have to see them again.”

He shrugs. “I don’t mind. They seem like nice people.”

“My dad asked for practically every detail of your life!”

“And? That doesn’t bother me,” he pauses. “Do they like me?”

“Uh,” you think for a second. “Probably? My mom liked the desserts you bought, and my dad likes asking the car question because my brother told him that people who care about cars are sociopaths.”

“Your brother is right, who the fuck needs a sports car that wakes up the entire neighborhood?”

“Nobody,” you shrug. “But I wouldn’t worry about whether they like you or not. If they like Hange, then there’s no limit to who they can tolerate.”

“If you say so.” He looks out towards your hallway and goes to raise the bag you gave him. “Thank you for the loaf.”

You nod. “Yeah, don’t worry about it.”

“See you on Friday?”

“I thought you had business?”

He nods, clicking his tongue. “Right.”

“I’ll technically see you on Friday, just not this coming one.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. That’s what I meant when I asked.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure. Get home safe, Levi.”

“You too. Thank you again.”

“Mhm.” You wave to him as he leaves, and you sigh.

Fuck, you have to wait two weeks to see him again?

Well, out of sight, out of mind. Even with your wish for more ways to avoid thinking about your feelings, you wish it didn’t also entail not being able to spend time together.

✰

The mechanic hands your key back to you, a bright smile on his face. “There you are, miss! The rest of your paperwork is at the front desk, the person working there can help you with that.”

You thank him before heading inside the building, putting your car key back on your keyring while you walk over. The mention of paperwork is hardly daunting, but you still know you’ll have to review everything thoroughly before you’re content signing.

You greet the woman at the front desk with a smile and give her your name, and she slides you a clipboard with a single sheet of paperwork on it. You take it with you to the seating area so you can look at it, but in the middle of reading, you hear a familiar voice introduce himself to the woman at the front desk.

“Ackerman, Levi.”

You look up from the clipboard to see your friend, clad in neat dress clothes.

Huh, what a small world.

You go back to the paperwork, not wanting to get caught staring, and you sign your name at the bottom before getting up to silently slip it back to get processed. You wait behind Levi for him to get his things sorted out, but it takes an unusually long time. When you were getting your initial paperwork earlier, it didn’t take even a fraction of this time.

The woman sighs. “I’m sorry, sir, your car hasn’t finished being repaired yet.”

“I need my car today, could it get done by noon?”

You hear a few more clicks from her computer before she responds. “The parts for the repair have been ordered, but they won’t be here in the shop for another three business days.”

“I paid extra to have it finished today,” he says, “and you’re telling me that it won’t be ready for another three days?”

Someone as blunt as Levi usually comes off as indifferent, maybe even angry, but right now, he just sounds… desperate.

“I’m sorry, there isn’t anything I can do about it. I can get the mechanic for you, and he can explain what’s going on, if you’d like?”

He shakes his head, almost defeatedly. “No, that’s alright. Thank you anyway.”

When he turns to leave, he nearly misses you, but when you tap his shoulder, the two of you make eye contact. You wave at him before quickly stepping forward to hand the woman your paperwork, and she quickly types something into her computer before telling you that you’re ready to go. She leaves to go do… something, and it’s just you and Levi left in the relatively small space.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but do you need a ride somewhere?”

He sighs, putting his hands into pockets. “I was supposed to go somewhere, and my car decided to stop working yesterday.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “If you’re offering, don’t. It’s a three-hour drive.”

Three hours isn’t so bad. You know Levi to be decently frugal with his time, and you’re sure he wouldn’t want to make the drive if it didn’t mean something to him.

Besides, he sounds pretty distressed. If there’s anything you could do to help, you’re going to do it.

“That’s not that long, I can take you.”

“What? No, you have better things to do with your time,” he scolds. “It’s not that big of a deal, I can just go another time.”

“It sounds pretty important if you paid extra to get it repaired faster,” you challenge. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” he goes to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Well,” you pause to come up with an excuse, and when you see the complimentary drinks station at the corner of the space, you have your excuse, “I didn’t see you yesterday, so I still owe you your tea. I can just drive you to make up for it.”

He groans. “In what world is a six-hour round trip equivalent to a box of fucking tea?”

“In this one,” you retort. “But seriously, I don’t mind.”

“Are you going to give up if I say no again?”

You sigh. “I don’t want to force you, so yeah.”

Before he can speak again, he gets a phone call. He picks it up, and you look away to afford him his privacy.

“They said another three days.”

“It isn’t a big deal.”

“What the fuck? No, go to work. Do not fucking use me as an excuse to take the day off.”

You feel his gaze shift towards you, and you hear him sigh. “Okay, okay, get off my fucking back. I’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, bye.”

The dial tone of the call ending goes off, and you turn to face him again. He slides his phone back into his pocket, and he brings up his fist to cover his mouth while he clears his throat. “Are you sure? It’s a long drive.”

You nod and give a playful thumbs-up. “Yes!”

Instead of rolling his eyes like you expect him too, he gives you a thumbs-up in return. “Thank you,” he looks out and past you at the parking lot for the place. “I need to get some things from Furlan’s car first.”

“Yeah, that’s no problem. Want some help?”

“You’re going to do it anyway, so what’s the point of asking?”

You roll your eyes. “It’s called being polite.”

“Never heard of it before.”

“Oh, I can tell.”

You follow him as he leads you outside, and you see Furlan leaning on the side of his car. He looks decently surprised to see you, but he still smiles and waves at you. Levi goes to the other side of the car to the backseat to start getting his things.

“It’s been a while since you’ve been at the house, we miss you!”

You smile in apology. “Sorry, just haven’t really had any time lately.”

“That’s okay, I’m pretty busy too,” he pauses to lean in closer to you to whisper. “Oh, and thank you for those brownies a while ago! Me and Isabel make them all the time now!”

You chuckle. “And does Levi know this?”

Furlan smugly shakes his head after he pulls away from your ear. “Nope, and it’s going to stay that way.”

“Well, I’m glad you guys like them that much.”

Levi comes back to where you and Furlan are, and in his arms is a rather… unexpected assortment of items. There’s a large box, but you can see a watering can and a bouquet of flowers that peek out from it. You can’t quite tell what they’re for, but you aren’t sure if it’s the right time to ask.

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he answers. You go to take the watering can and flowers to help lighten the load for Levi, and he thanks you before nodding at Furlan and then letting you lead the way to your car.

When you’re a fair bit away from Furlan, you figure it’s alright to ask.

“What’s all this for, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He hums, opting to continue looking forward instead of at you. “Today’s my mom’s birthday.” He halts in his gait, and he looks almost horrified as he finally turns to face you. “Fuck, I should’ve told you earlier. Seriously, it’s not too late, you don’t have to drive me to a fucking cemetery.”

You’re frozen in place at the statement, unsure of what to say.

So you’ll just say something and clarify afterwards if it comes out wrong.

“Am I supposed to be offended that you didn’t tell me…?”

He blinks, trying to process what you’re saying. “I don’t know.”

You wave your hand in front of his face to snap him back to you, and he blinks again.

“Levi, don’t worry about it. I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?”

You get to your car, and you put down the watering can on the top of your car to free your hand and get your keys out of your pocket. You unlock it, and you open the door for Levi to put everything in the backseat.

“I think I should be asking you that. Are you sure you’re okay with me taking you?”

“I asked first,” he says. Still, he goes around the car to sit in your passenger seat, and you join him in the driver's.

“I already told you that it’s alright with me,” you tell him.

He sighs before reaching over to get his seatbelt done, and you watch as he puts his elbow on the space below the window. “Thank you, then.”

✰

The drive is silent, for the most part.

When he gets in, he compliments the cleanliness of your car’s interior, and you thank him for the sentiment. He gives you directions as you drive, you put on music, but other than that, there’s nothing said between the two of you.

The drive is long, that much is certain, but it’s relaxing, at least for you. Levi does offer to switch every hour or so, but you insist that you’re enjoying the change of pace because he’s normally the one chauffeuring you around.

When you reach Underground City Cemetery, Levi speaks up again to give you directions for where to park. There’s plenty of flowers and gifts that decorate the other graves, probably from the previous Mother’s Day weekend, and they fill up the field with life in colors.

There’s a small lane that is just barely wide enough for you to park, but luckily the place is empty enough to not have it be an issue for anyone else.

“Well, we’re here.”

“I can see that,” he says. As he goes to undo his seatbelt, he looks back to see you staring at him. “What?”

You take your hands off the steering wheel and nervously put them in your lap. “I can come back later, if you want the privacy. I don’t want to intrude on anything.”

The sound of his seatbelt clicking free is loud, and he avoids eye contact with you as he reaches for the door handle and goes to get his things from your backseat. You take that as your sign that he does want you to go somewhere else, but before you can put your car back into drive, Levi walks around the car and knocks on your window with his knuckles.

You roll down your window, and you watch as he looks back and forth between you and the backseat.

“You can come with me.”

You blink slowly. “What? Are you sure?”

He nods. “Yeah,” he looks into your backseat again. “I need help carrying everything anyway.”

You take your keys out of the ignition, and you silently help grab what he can’t carry. He starts heading towards a path, so you follow him, careful not to step on anything other than bare grass or sidewalk. You notice along the beginning of the walkway that there’s various water faucets, so you make sure not to trip on those either.

The walk is a fair bit away from your car, but it’s not anything inconvenient. If anything, it looks like Levi relaxes as he walks in whichever direction he’s headed towards.

When you reach the end of this particular walkway, you see that there’s a fresh bundle of flowers in the little divot in the dirt where he stops.

“Did you come for Mother’s Day?” You ask.

He shakes his head, and he sets his box down, getting a small stool from it as well to sit on. You’re unsure of what you’re meant to do, but you wait for him to give you any instructions, if any.

“I only come on her birthday, it’s too busy on Mother’s Day,” he says. “My uncle comes every week to leave flowers, he still lives in this fucking town.”

“That’s nice of him.”

He scoffs, and he starts to pull on a pair of rubber gloves. “Hardly, I have to pay him to do it.” He gets them on, and he has to uncomfortably lean over to get what he needs from the box.

You quickly go to set down the watering can and the flowers on the blank grass next to you, and you tell Levi that he can just tell you what he needs.

He asks for a long cleaning brush, and you dig through the box to get that for him. You watch as he sweeps away at the dust and dirt on the flat headstone.

The name is barely legible, the granite still ashy, but you can still read it: Kuchel Ackerman. Underneath her name is only a birth date and death date, nothing else.

Levi sighs. “That fucker. I saw him yesterday, and he swore that he cleaned the headstone.”

He asks for a small pick to clean up some of the carvings in the stone. You hand it to him and exchange it for the brush he was just using. You tap it on the side of the box to make sure that the rest of the tools inside don’t catch any of the dirt.

“Was that the business you were on yesterday?”

He nods. “He needed a ride to the airport for whatever fucking reason. My car broke down when I was on the way home.”

“That sucks.”

“It does.”

He seems to need to concentrate on cleaning up the stone alone, so you quietly slip away to fill up the watering can with one of the faucets you saw earlier. He didn’t mention needing any water, but you figure that it’d be better to have it than not at all.

The walk is decently long both ways, but you don’t mind it. You and Levi seem to be the only people in the immediate area, so you’re grateful that he has the quiet he needs to spend time cleaning up the grave, too.

When you come back, he asks for you to slowly pour out the water while he scrubs, having changed the pick for a different, smaller brush this time, and you follow the direction. He asks that you go and get more water, and you just nod before going back and make the same trip.

You have to do it another three times, but you still don’t mind it. When you come back with the last helping of water, he doesn’t ask you to pour it over the stone anymore. The flowers he brought with him now replace the other ones that were set by his uncle, and he asks that you pour the water into the small divot on the ground.

He puts his gloved hands under the falling water to protect the petals from collapsing underneath the stream, and he carefully wipes away any of the water that spilled back down onto the headstone.

“Well, that’s it for today,” he mutters, taking off his gloves. “We can head out now.”

“Do you need any more time here?” You offer, bending down to help get everything neatly in the box. “You don’t have to rush for my sake.”

He checks his watch for the time. “The cemetery closes in 30 minutes.”

You hum, continuing to get things put away but still carefully enough to not cause too much noise or damage anything.

“We can stay another 30 minutes, then.”

He looks back and forth between you, your car in the distance, and the headstone. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “Yeah, I can start getting some of this back to the car on my own.”

He doesn’t say anything else, and you take it that he wants to stay, so you start moving things back to your car. You have to make several trips to make sure that you don’t carry more than you know you can, but you still don’t mind.

When you come back for the last time to get the very last of the things, Levi’s getting up, dusting away loose dirt from his pants. He doesn’t let you carry anything on the way back, but you give no protest, only silently walking next to him as the both of you make your way back to the car.

When you’re both in your seats and everything in the box has been accounted for, you start to drive, again following along as Levi gives you the directions.

In the entire time you’ve been out, neither of you have eaten, so you ask him if there’s anywhere he’d want to go and grab dinner. He says he’d rather just get home, and after a bit of back-and-forth, you make him promise to eat when he gets home, and you continue driving.

He still asks to switch with you every now and again, but you just tell him to not worry about it. You have to stop to get gas with about another hour left of your commute back to his house, and he pays for it before you can even realize that the gas has finished pumping.

When you finally reach his house, you both get out of the car, and you go to help him get his things inside. He sets the box down on the doormat before going to ring the doorbell, but before he can press the button, the door swings open and you’re met with Furlan for the second time in the day, as well as Isabel for the first time in the day.

And of course, they pull you inside along with Levi and force you to have dinner with them. You’re unsure if Levi still wants you to be around after having spent practically the entire day together, but you choose to ignore the thought as you eat and enjoy banter with Isabel and Furlan.

Levi eventually slips away to take a shower, and you, Isabel, and Furlan decide to make some brownies, and this time, Levi’s allowed to know about it because they’re made to cheer him up.

The dessert is in the oven by the time he comes back, and you’re halfway out the door when you see that he’s done with his shower, towel draped over his shoulders.

He slides on a pair of slippers before walking you across the street, and neither of you say anything until you’re at your car, shoulder-to-shoulder and leaning on the vehicle.

“Thank you,” he tells you. “Seriously, you have no idea how much it means to me that you took the time to drive me today.”

You give him a gentle smile, and then you look up at the sky, unsure of where else to look. “You don’t have to say thanks, but I appreciate it.”

He groans next to you, following suit and looking up too. “Did you not hear a word of what I just said?”

You hum. “I did, but you don’t have to thank me.”

“And why the fuck not?”

Honestly? “No idea, but it doesn’t feel right to accept thanks for a gesture like this,” you pause, turning to look at him.

His eyes look shiny under the moonlight, but you’re unsure if it's just the silver in them or tears welling up.

“I’m just grateful you trusted me enough to spend time with you while you visited her.”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “You fucking idiot, of course I do.”

There's a silence again, and despite all the words that just miss the tip of your tongue, you feel like you could be here forever, nothing said between the two of you.

“You should get going. It’s late.”

You blink before leaning over slightly to tap your shoulder to his. “Yeah, you’re right.” You both get up from leaning on your car, and there’s another pause before you have to go. “See you on Friday?”

He nods. “Yeah, Friday.”

You sigh again, looking past him and at his house.

“Do you want anything other than tea? Just this once, let me repay you properly.”

You laugh, turning back to face him. “You already know the answer is no.”

“Are you sure?”

When he asks this time, you properly mull it over. Is there really anything you want? The tea is more than enough, but you don't even need that.

Honestly...

"Nothing."

"What?"

"I want nothing," you say again, a bit more confidently.

There isn't anything that you could want, at least that he could buy. For once, you think that you want there to not be any reasoning behind your exchanges.

"You want nothing," he repeats to you. It sounds like a question coming from him.

"Yeah, nothing."

"Is this a fucking joke to you?"

You shake your head with another smile. "No, I'm taking this very seriously," you pause, trying to read the expression on his face. "Don't worry, I'll still bring you your tea the week after."

"You think I fucking care about you paying me back?"

You sigh. "I don't know, maybe?"

"Do tell, then, why you want nothing."

You shrug. "I don't know. There's nothing you need to pay me back for, you can just give me nothing next week."

He sighs. "If you fucking insist."

You laugh, shaking your head again. "Thank you, I look forward to it."

Before you can turn to go and get inside of your car, you notice Levi looking at you, his hands awkwardly at his sides and instead of in his pockets.

And before you can ask if there's anything else he needs to talk about before you go, you feel his arms come up and pull you into a hug.

It isn't tight. No, it's loose enough, and you know that it's meant for you to have the option to leave if you want to.

Strangely, you don't.

You bring your arms up awkwardly to hug him back, unsure of where to grab until you find an opening on his body for you to hold onto, but it doesn't matter. His hold on you tightens, just barely enough to tell you that he appreciates you returning the gesture, and his head find its place comfortably on your shoulder.

His hair is still wet and it drips cold water onto your shoulders, but you don't mind it at all.

His body slotted against yours is still warm, comfortable—just like it always is. And again, you wish that it could last forever.

"Even if it means nothing, thank you."

You know that even if you say, again, that you don't think he needs to thank you or repay you or express his gratitude in any way, you just nod in agreeance to let his heart relax.

"You're welcome, Levi."

Even if he sees it differently, you know you both mean the same thing—that you both appreciate what you do for the other, and that this... repayment system is how interact with each other. That much lets your heart relax.

Eventually, the both of you let go of each other, and the rest goes by too quickly for you to remember.

He tells you to get home safe, you tell him the same, and you're on autopilot as you drive back to your house.

You take your shower, still lost in your mind, and you get into bed. When you go to pull your blankets over again, you freeze.

Instead of the feeling of comfort being the one that confuses you this time, but it's oddly similar.

It isn't that the comfort in his company confuses you. No, not at all. If that were the case, then you'd be anxious when you're around him.

No.

What confuses you is that you want his comfort. You want him to be around. You want to feel that way all the time, not just when you're around him.

And so, for the first time in literal months, you have to flip onto your stomach, scream into your pillow, shake the nerves out of your legs, and do it ten times over... only for it to do absolutely fucking nothing.

Fucking great.

So much for thinking that you could keep up with your little game of running away from your feelings.

✰

Next Chapter

#attack on titan #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #tao.levi #levi aot #levi ackerman #the romance of reimbursements #levi #fanfiction

1 note · View note

talesfromaurea · 4 months ago

Text

Writerly Question Tag

I saw this on my dash and decided to yoink it. Consider this an open tag if you wanna do it too!

About You

When did you start writing?

I wrote my first book when I was around 6 years old. It was a picture book (illustrated by yours truly) about a dog going on a walk lmao

Are the genres/themes you enjoy reading different from the ones you write?

My favorite books to read are nonfiction and I write fantasy. In the realm of other fiction genres though, I enjoy reading sci-fi, historical fiction, and thrillers

Is there an author (or just a fellow writer!) you want to emulate, or one to whom you’re often compared?

I don't think anyone has ever compared my writing to someone else's. There are many authors I admire but none that I consciously try to emulate or look up to specifically.

Can you tell me a little about your writing space(s)?

The couch in my living room tbh. If I'm feeling fancy, I'll put on a wax melt.

What’s your most effective way to muster up some muse?

Music

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and places you write about?

Maybe in the sense that I was stuck in boring suburbia so I was always dreaming of fantastical adventures 😅

Are there any recurring themes in your writing, and if so, do they surprise you at all?

Groups of misfits becoming friends, shape shifting and/or monstrous aspects of the self are probably the two big ones. And no they don't surprise me at all haha

Your Characters

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character? (Current WIP, past WIP, never used, etc.)

I love all my babies equally (but it's Sakrattars - my know-it-all dickhead elf who falls into an anxious spiral)

Which of your characters would you be friends with in real life?

Maybe Kaja, since she's so easy to get along with? Otherwise probably none of them tbh...

Which characters would you dislike the most if you met them?

Probably Sakrattars lmao we're too similar and I think it would Cause Problems

Tell me about the process of coming up with your characters?

Honestly they just kind of kick down the door in my head and introduce themselves. And when I come up with new ideas about them, they will absolutely let me know whether it suits them or not

Do you notice any reoccurring themes/traits in your characters?

Loneliness (that eventually becomes friendship!)

How do you picture your characters?

Your Writing

What’s your reason for writing?

I am plagued by visions

Is there a specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating coming from your readers?

I love when people tell me how they felt reading certain scenes or passages. But really any type of comment is a good comment (unless you're just being rude)

How do you want to be thought of by those who read your work?

Do not perceive me please 😅 I just want to tell you a story

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Characters and dialogue. Luckily my partner's strengths are world-building and plotting so it turns out ✌

What have you been frequently told your greatest writing strength is by others?

Characters, dialogue, descriptions

How do you feel about your own writing?

There's always room for growth, but it suits me fine

If you were the last person on earth and knew your writing would never be read by another human, would you still write?

Probably, like 80% of my writing has never seen another pair of eyeballs before so yeah lol

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely what you enjoy?

I write for me lmfao. Y'all can read it too sometimes, but my target audience is definitely me

#tag games #though I wasn't technically tagged...

0 notes

silverwhittlingknife · 1 year ago

Text

I do think it's potentially confusing, but "potentially confusing" isn't the worst thing in the world? It depends on your audience and the effect you're going for.

I had soooo many rambling thoughts about this sdfsfsdf so I put them below the cut.

Examples: some books I've read that switch between different POVs, and my takes on how confusing it is in each (Allegiant, Miracle Creek: A Novel, Ulysses)

My writing

Okay, so I have three examples I want to muse about in three different genres.

1] Allegiant: first-person, two POVs, alternating chapters. This is the third book of the Divergent series. It's an action-adventure trilogy intended for YA readers, and it switches between the POVs of two protagonists in alternating chapters and helpfully labels them at the start of each chapter. But I still found it super-confusing and wished it had only been one POV, because the stripped-down action-adventure writing style means that both the first-person narrators sounded alike to me and I kept forgetting who was doing what.

Here's one character's POV:

“My watch reads three o’clock. I’ve been here too long—long enough to make Evelyn suspicious."

Here's the other character's POV:

“Evelyn’s mocking smile twists like she has just tasted something unpleasant. She leans in close to my face, and I see for the first time how old she is."

See how they're basically ... the same?

I enjoyed the first Divergent book a lot, partly because I thought the author handled the stripped-down writing style really well. The heroine has enough personality to connect with the reader, but she's also bare-bones enough to make it easy to follow along with the action. But this writing style - which is great with one narrator! - is IMO a terrible match for two narrators.

2] Miracle Creek: A Novel: third-person limited, multiple POVs, alternating chapters. Miracle Creek is a murder mystery / courtroom drama that's probably targeting an adult literary-book-club audience. Like the Divergent book, it trades off between multiple narrators and introduces each new chapter with their names. Here, though, it works great. Every narrator has a very distinct voice; they all know different information and they're all concealing things.

Here's one character in the courtroom, aware that people are looking at her:

She'd expected anger, but they smiled as she walked by, and she had to remind herself that she was a victim here. She was not the defendant, not the one they blamed for the explosion that killed two patients. She told herself what Pak told her every day—their absence from the barn that night didn't cause the fire, and he couldn't have prevented the explosion even if he'd stayed with the patients—and tried to smile back. Their support was a good thing. She knew that. But it felt undeserved, wrong, like a prize won by cheating, and instead of buoying her, it weighed her down with worry that God would see and correct the injustice, make her pay for her lies some other way.

Here's another character in the courtroom, aware that people are looking at him:

He would've given anything not to be here today. Maybe not his entire right arm, but certainly one of its three remaining fingers. He was already a freak with missing fingers - what was one more? He did not want to see reporters, cameras flashing when he made the mistake of covering his face with his hands - he cringed, picturing how the flash would reflect off the glossy scar tissue covering the doughy clump that remained of his right hand.

I think this book is fantastically well-done. The switching POVs are never confusing - the characters sound too different - and the multiple POVs are also a deliberate part of the aesthetic effect. It's a murder mystery and you're trying to solve it; as we switch between POVs, we observe each character and their grudges and their insecurities, trying to guess from the clues what (if anything) they might be guilty of. It's not just about seeing what the characters do; it's about getting a sense of who they are and what they value.

Books often struggle with getting across images (like facial expressions) that comic books / TV / more visual media can convey effortlessly. But this kind of immersion in character POV is something that I think is really cool in novels and which is almost impossible to do in more visual media.

3] Ulysses: .... sometimes third-person limited, sometimes first-person, sometimes third-person omniscient, sometimes your-guess-is-as-good-as-mine. Ulysses switches between narrator POVs in different sections and does not label them; it's deliberately confusing. Forcing you to try to figure out what's going on in a new person's stream-of-consciousness thought is part of the aesthetic effect. IMO there's also some blurring of narrator voices sometimes. So for example here are two different parts of the same chapter of Ulysses, where the self-conscious intellectual Stephen Dedalus and the not-so-intellectual Leopold Bloom go to Bloom's house and drink some team.

Why was he doubly irritated? Because he had forgotten and because he remembered that he had reminded himself twice not to forget.

And:

What in water did Bloom, waterlover, drawer of water, watercarrier, returning to the range, admire? Its universality: its democratic equality and constancy to its nature in seeking its own level: its vastness in the ocean of Mercator’s projection: its unplumbed profundity in the Sundam trench of the Pacific exceeding 8000 fathoms: the restlessness of its waves and surface particles visiting in turn all points of its seaboard: the independence of its units

These are theoretically both from the third-person omniscient narrator who voices this section - both Bloom and Dedalus get described as if we're looking at them - but also, those two voices sound pretty different, don't they? To me, at least, it sounds like maybe the first section is getting filtered through Bloom's frustration with himself, and the second section is getting filtered through Dedalus's mocking thoughts about Bloom's enthusiasm for water.

Or maybe not! Part of the fun of Ulysses is that it's kind of a puzzle-box.

4] Me!

I'm a writer and I do have a couple WIPs where I try to switch between different perspectives, but ... honestly it's something I struggle with? Aesthetic-wise, I have a real love for the Miracle Creek style so that's what I sometimes try to write, but the thing about switching perspective is that you're putting a spotlight on your character voices - you're saying, "Hey! Look at this!" And so at least for me, I feel like I want to be very sure that those character voices are distinct if I do that. If the voices are blurring together, it's going to get confusing.

Plus, at least in fanfic, I tend to write things that are pretty stripped-down / dialogue-heavy, which - like Divergent - is a style that gives you some scope for character interiority but not a whole lot. (Whereas something like Miracle Creek has a lot of long, musing passages entirely in the characters' heads.) I think it's extra-tricky to try to switch character voice when you're already working in a minimalistic style.

tl;dr it's a cool effect, but for me "easy mode" is almost always going to be "staying within a single perspective."

thing I keep (unconsciously) doing while writing is that I sometimes mix more than one character’s POV together, not in the same sentence (thankfully) but in some of my works the perspective of the characters keeps switching back and forth between this character and the other character, and I don’t know whether or not it’s confusing to the readers? like in this one paragraph it’s written in character A’s POV. then in this next paragraph it shifts to character B’s POV. and there isn’t a direct indication that directly says ‘okay this paragraph is in character A’s POV’ so…

#prev tags!!!#story talk #i rambled a whole lot op but ultimately #i feel like the real question is: do YOU like the aesthetic effect when you reread your stuff #i wouldn't personally switch back and forth within a single paragraph because i think that /is/ confusing #and the Standard Writing Advice i've heard is 'don't alternate POV except by chapter' & that's what you'll see in most books #but even though frustratingly i can't bring a particular romance novel to mind #i feel like 'sometimes trade off character POVs by paragraph in a single chapter' is definitely something i've seen & enjoyed in romance #which is often heavy on 'characters have emotional reactions to each other'#in ways that aren't likely to be confusing or hard to distinguish #i think this kind of quick POV-switching is probably more common in romance than in something like action-adventure #but at the end of the day it doesn't really matter what's typical of whatever genre - it's up to you what you want to write!!#anyway trying to work out my answer to this question was super-interesting. thanks for sharing your post <3

276 notes · View notes

bleuhisteria · 1 year ago

Text

Deus Ex Machina|| Aizawa x Reader Chapter 7

Where quirks, inventions, ideas and bodies collide.

I arrived at Hizashi's classroom, gently knocking on the door and introducing myself to the teacher as I handed over the required form. Hizashi and Shirakumo had not yet returned from lunch, but their classmates were already present, their curious gazes making me a bit nervous. Nonetheless, I managed to muster a smile and politely waved to everyone, while also taking mental note of the information about their quirks that I observed.

As I left the classroom and headed back to my own, a realization struck me. It would be wise to carry a notepad with me at all times. I should jot down the quirks I managed to catch a glimpse of, as it could provide valuable leverage for Aizawa and me during the upcoming sports festival.

Soon, my own class began, and Haruki passed me a note, requesting to see my notebook again sometime. I agreed, and throughout the class, I intermittently scribbled game plans for the festival in my notebook. It crossed my mind that I should watch videos on the computer to get a sense of previous festivals, although I doubted if audience members were allowed to record them. Nevertheless, I'm confident that I could find someone who had managed to sneak in a camera at some point in time.

I had my notepad out, diligently jotting down the necessary preparations for the sports festival while Haruki observed my notebook. After class, we both decided it was time to head home, as the development studio was crowded with too many students at the moment.

"I love this model! I want to include it in my equipment for the sports fest! Is that okay with you, (Y/N)?" she asked eagerly, presenting me with an old version of bouncy boots.

Panicking slightly, I shook my head. "Wh-while it may seem great on paper, but trust me, I've actually tried it out, and it doesn't work the way you'd expect it to. It's not as functional as it appears." Taking the notebook from Haruki's hands, I flipped to a different page.

"Instead, try this version. It's a more improved one... although I haven't tested it yet. There are some key details that could help you when developing bouncy boots 2.0." I stated, pulling out a piece of paper tucked between the end pages of my notebook and handing it to Haruki.

The paper contained all the necessary details to enhance the device she desired. Since I had no intention of using it myself, she might as well benefit from it.

"Are you sure, (Y/N)? Don't you want to use this for yourself?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.

I nodded. "Yeah, don't worry. I have other plans in mind. I'm going to use a few different things." My reassurance seemed to give her enough courage to take the paper from my hand.

"Thanks!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she held it up, examining it with a satisfied smile.

We continued walking towards the gate, our conversation fading into a comfortable silence.

What am I even doing here?

Aizawa stood by the gate, a sense of ennui permeating his being. He couldn't help but question his presence in this situation. What was he doing here? Students passed by him, their chatter and footsteps blending into a dull background noise. He waited impatiently for the person he had agreed to meet, his thoughts swirling with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

He had to admit, (Y/N) had caught him off guard with her proposition of getting him into the hero course. It wasn't something he had anticipated, and the fact that she had a plan only added to his intrigue. However, a flicker of caution tinged his anticipation.

If it's something stupid I'm leaving.

Lost in his musings, Aizawa's attention snapped back to reality as a figure with familiar (H/C) hair caught his eye. His gaze followed the person beside (Y/N), a presence that immediately put him on guard. As their eyes met, (Y/N)'s ongoing conversation abruptly halted, and her face lit up with a radiant smile at the sight of him.

I turned my head and saw Aizawa standing at the gate. The conversation I was having with Haruki quickly faded into the background as excitement surged through me. I approached him with a beaming smile, genuinely surprised and grateful that he had shown up instead of dismissing my invitation.

"Hey, you actually came!" I greeted him warmly, my voice filled with joy and surprise. I truly appreciated that he had given my idea some consideration instead of outright ignoring it.

Aizawa scratched his head, his gaze averting elsewhere as he replied, "I wanted to hear your plan..."

Haruki caught up to us, her voice laced with curiosity as she asked, "(Y/N), who's this?"

"This is Aizawa," I introduced him, my words laced with gratitude. I couldn't help but feel indebted to him.

Aizawa looked away, seemingly embarrassed. I decided to ease off and not overwhelm him. "Anyway," I quickly redirected the conversation, hoping to shift the focus. "Let's part ways here. I need to talk to Aizawa about something."

I had to get Haruki out of the conversation somehow, I didn't want to let her know what I was planning, it'd be disadvantageous to me if she did the same thing.

Haruki gave me a mischievous look, raising an eyebrow and smirking. "Alright~ I get it. I won't get in the way of your plans~" she playfully teased.

Perplexed by Haruki's implication, I furrowed my brow, but before I could inquire further, she was already walking away, humming contentedly to herself.

God, that was embarrassing. How can someone be so clueless? Aizawa thought to himself, unable to bear the situation any longer. Haruki's implications seemed to completely fly over (Y/N)'s head, leaving Aizawa feeling a mix of frustration and second-hand embarrassment.

"Let's get going. I-I'll explain on the way," (Y/N) said nervously, starting to walk. She pulled the bag strap on her shoulder, signaling Aizawa to follow her lead.

Nodding silently, Aizawa fell in step behind (Y/N), prepared to hear what she had in mind.

She took a deep breath before she began, "Based on my knowledge from previous sports festivals, the first phase is always an individual competition, the second is some sort of team battle, and the third is a one-on-one match to determine the winner," she explained, looking at Aizawa with one finger raised.

"While I can't help during the first phase, I'll be able to assist during the second and third phases with permission from the teachers. What I want is to develop a support item that can complement your quirk, something that can give you an advantage in battle."

She paused for a moment, her expression turning serious. "This should be a showcase of your skill rather than relying solely on your quirk, just like mine. If you shine, I shine. Understand?" (Y/N) asked, pointing at him and then herself, a smile playing on her lips.

Aizawa was taken aback by her sudden confidence. It was a stark contrast to her usual demeanor, showing just how serious she was about her goal. And she was doing it for his sake as well.

"What kind of equipment are you planning to give me?" Aizawa asked, a valid question considering he knew nothing about (Y/N)'s abilities. All he knew was that she had shown selflessness and appeared physically weak during the previous exam, only scoring five points.

With a smile, (Y/N) raised a finger. "Something that will suit you," she stated, deliberately leaving it vague. Then she shifted the focus of the conversation. "I want to learn more about you, about your body's capabilities and your limits. To do that, I need to analyze you up close. So, train with me," she proposed.

"When?" Aizawa asked, wanting to set a time for their training.

"Tomorrow, at my house. My dad has a spacious testing area for his gear. We can train there," she replied, pulling out a notepad from her pocket.

A glimpse of the notepad revealed a wall of text labeled 'SPORTS FEST GAME PLAN.' Aizawa couldn't help but wonder just how much planning she had done.

Leaving him astounded, (Y/N) handed him a torn piece of paper with her address on it.

(Y/N) handed him the piece of paper with her address, her words lingering in the air. "Here, since tomorrow is the weekend, we have time to test and train together right away. You can come around early morning if that works for you. I'm usually up pretty early," she said, her anticipation palpable as she waited for his response.

Aizawa accepted the paper, feeling a surge of determination within him. "I'll come around 8 am," he replied, taking note of the excitement that sparked in (Y/N)'s eyes upon hearing his answer.

"That's settled then," she declared, a sense of purpose in her voice. As they reached the train station, (Y/N)'s train arrived first, signaling their impending separation. With a smile, she turned to Aizawa. "This is my train. I'll see you tomorrow." With a wave, she hopped onto the train, leaving Aizawa standing there, watching as the doors closed.

Lost in thought, he found himself staring at the piece of paper in his hand, the address written on it a symbol of the path they were about to embark on. Tucking it safely into his pocket, he awaited the arrival of his own train, his mind abuzz with anticipation for the training session that awaited them tomorrow.

The morning sun cast its warm glow on Aizawa as he stood before the grand gates of what appeared to be a mansion. Despite the house itself being of regular size, the sprawling land surrounding it exuded an air of opulence and grandeur. Aizawa couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the numerous guards stationed at the gates. With a deep breath, he mustered his determination and approached the intercom.

Pressing the button, a voice immediately crackled through the speaker, its tone direct and precise. "Purpose for visit?"

Aizawa stumbled over his words for a moment, momentarily forgetting (Y/N)'s name. Gripping his bag tightly, he managed to mumble, "My name is Aizawa Shouta. I'm here to train with..." His voice trailed off, frustration lacing his tone. Before he could gather his thoughts, the voice from the intercom interjected.

"You're here for (Y/N)-sama, correct? One moment." The voice spoke again, and after a brief pause, the massive gates slowly swung open.

Aizawa mentally scolded himself for his forgetfulness as he proceeded towards the house. Standing by the entrance was a woman dressed in a maid's uniform, who greeted him with a formal bow.

"My name is Elena, I am the maid of this household. (Y/N)-sama has asked me to bring you to the testing grounds." Elena's eyes seemed to penetrate Aizawa's being for a moment before a warm smile graced her face. "Please follow me," she said, extending a guiding hand. With a nod, Aizawa followed her lead as they made their way along a rocky trail connected to the side of the house.

As they walked, the distant sound of clashing reached Aizawa's ears. His curiosity piqued, he quickened his pace, and soon the sight unfolded before him—a massive stone platform, resembling a colossal tile, situated in the middle of the field. And there, engaged in a fierce hand-to-hand combat, was (Y/N) struggling against an older man—her father.

Aizawa couldn't help but be taken aback by the intensity of the fight. The determination in (Y/N)'s eyes and the unwavering spirit with which she faced her opponent captivated him.

With a swift motion, (Y/N) tumbled to the ground, clearly outmatched by her opponent's superior combat skills. The man chuckled, extending a hand towards her. "You're getting rusty, (N/N). Has being in the support department taken you away from proper training?" he teased.

Wiping a smudge from her cheek, (Y/N) shot him a defiant glare as she accepted his hand. "As if!" she retorted, her determination shining through.

Interrupting the intense moment, Elena's voice rang out, calling (Y/N)'s attention. "Your guest is here, (Y/N)-sama," she announced, causing both father and daughter to turn their heads.

The realization struck (Y/N) like a bolt of lightning, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she noticed that Aizawa had been observing their sparring session. "A-A-Aizawa!" she stammered, panic seeping into her voice.

Her father's gaze shifted from (Y/N) to Aizawa, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. Remembering the conversations with his daughter, he recalled her determination to support Aizawa and help him gain recognition, having felt like she had held him back during the entrance exam.

(Y/N) hastily retrieved her jacket and quickly zipped it up, her attempt to conceal her sparring session in vain as Aizawa had already witnessed it. However, his focus shifted as his gaze locked onto the man standing behind (Y/N). She turned to see her father, and her anxiety skyrocketed.

"P-please don't tell anybody!" she blurted out, bowing deeply in a desperate plea.

Perplexed by the sudden request, Aizawa tilted his head in confusion. Just as tension started to build, Elena interjected, her voice calm and reassuring. "He doesn't know who (F/N)-sama is, it's alright," she explained with a gentle smile.

Relief washed over (Y/N), her eyes sparkling with hope as she raised her head to meet Elena's gaze. "R-really?" she asked, her voice filled with gratitude.

Elena nodded affirmatively, and (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief. She turned back to Aizawa, her expression brightening. "This is my dad," she introduced happily, as her father approached them, waving his hand in greeting.

"Hi there, pal. I'm (Y/N)'s father. I heard she wanted to create a support item for you. Feel free to use my garage as much as you want," he offered with a warm smile. Suddenly, his phone rang, interrupting the conversation. "Ah, I'll have to take this call. Elena will keep an eye on you two while I'm away," he said, answering the call and walking off, leaving (Y/N) and Aizawa in the care of the trusted maid.

As her father departed, (Y/N) couldn't help but call out, "S-stay safe at work!" She then turned her attention back to Aizawa, her fingers fidgeting nervously.

After a moment of silence, she gathered the courage to speak up. "D-do you want to spar for a bit? It'll help me evaluate your combat ability," she suggested, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Sure. How do you want to do this?" Aizawa inquired, already stretching his muscles in preparation for the spar.

(Y/N) smiled, getting into a comfortable stance with a hand on her hip. "We'll fight hand to hand, no quirks. Sound good?" she proposed.

Aizawa nodded in agreement. "Sounds good to me."

The two of them walked over to the platform, positioning themselves across from each other. (Y/N) discarded her jacket, revealing the black tank top she wore underneath. From her pockets, she retrieved a pair of fingerless gloves, tossing them over to Aizawa.

"Here, just so that we're even," she said, handing him the gloves. Then, turning to Elena, she commanded, "Elena, tell us when to start."

The maid nodded in acknowledgment.

Aizawa took a moment to slip the gloves on, his gaze returning to (Y/N). Her eyes were focused, shimmering with determination.

They both assumed their stances as Elena's voice rang out, "Start!"

0 notes