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imagine-silk · 2 years ago

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kissing it better + bandaging/stitching up an injury for platonic yandere peter b? (itsv or atsv version.)

》 I had to redo this after writing a whole thing so another thing will come out after this and you'll see the resemblance.

He didn’t like the first time you tried to leave and the second time you lost the privilege to walk around the apartment while he was gone. The fucking 'privilege'. Typically he wasn’t gone long but he was gone long enough for nature to call. There wasn’t a bathroom attached to the bedroom and it drove you insane.

Unlike the front door the restraint on your leg was simple, an ankle restraint that was less than fancy, just something from some sporting goods store no doubt. So you wrapped it around the bedpost and pulled until it snapped. Just like that you made it out and into the bathroom before looking for a place to leave.

There seemed to be no way out. All the possible exits were baby proofed with Peter’s nerd shit and you already knew you couldn’t break down a door. You made a sandwich in the meantime to think for ways to leave and ways to make excuses if he got back. Then you crunched on lettuce next to the window.

Ten seconds later you threw a chair through it. The sound of the shatter broke your brain. The way out was right there.

You didn’t waste a second. You grabbed the sides with no reservations. Being careful would hurt so much more so you scrambled out, cutting your hands, cutting your feet, and cutting everywhere else. As you tumbled down there was another sound of something landing next to you. Spiderman was looking down at you for two seconds before he took you. You thought he was going to swing away or something of the like but he jumped inside and all but dumped you on the table.

It was all so fast. There was a medkit next to you in an instant and the second you tried to get up he pushed you back down and opened the box. You started to tell him he needed to help you leave but he kept shushing you until he yelled, “Shut up! Fuck!” You stopped moving completely and he took the chance to set up things on the table, tweezers, needle, thread. “We will talk about this later.”

All of it was so familiar, but the last time he told you that you were ten. “You are not talking to a child.” The thought of Peter being Spiderman left the building and stood on the side of the street.

“You are bleeding on my table, bullshit you’re an adult.” He snapped, wiping flecks of glass off you before taking out the shards.

You were so mad you weren’t wincing at his treatment, pulling out glass with pointed metal through torn flesh. “Are you serious right now?”

“Look at yourself. You really think this is going to make me think I should let you out?” He was so aware and you didn’t know if that was good or bad but you hated it.

“I had to jump out a window to leave this fucking apartment all because I wanted to go out of state and you decided to kidnap me.”

“What was wrong with Fordham, huh? Are you too good for Manhattan?”

“You’re not listening to me. Ah-” He lifted your leg without warning, clearly out of spite, and pulled the glass out there. “You’re so petty.”

“If I was, I would tell you to do all of this by yourself.” You growled back at him and dropped your head back on the table. All you could do in that moment was listen and feel the anger fuming off of him like he was the person wronged. It was obvious he took no joy in it but he didn’t feel bad about it. “Jump in the shower, we need to clean you up.”

“We? You better be speaking French because that sentence doesn’t check out in English.”

“It became ‘we’ when you jumped out a window so don’t give me any of that crap.”

“You are not getting in the shower with me.”

“You’re right, I’m not. I’m staying on the side. So shut up and go.”

It hit you then and embedded itself in your brain. You said it a lot but it didn’t truly set in until that moment; He didn’t see it as wrong because you were a ‘child’. Why would you let a kid covered in mud back in the house without wiping them down. You wouldn't. “I don’t want to get naked in front of you.”

He gave you a look that said ‘that’s stupid’. “Then keep your underwear on and start sitting before you paint my floors red.”

Peter was being petty and you both knew it, but both of you had something to prove. So he didn’t help you to the bathroom and you limped over without asking as fast as you could to say you were fine and to save you prolonged pain. You started the water and sat under the spray. If you were in a better state you would have pulled yourself in but your everything couldn’t take that.

He came in not too long after that with some stuff and he changed into normal clothes. There wasn’t one of those sprays you could take off and aim so he had a tupperware to fill and pour. “Spread your legs.”

“What?”

He didn��t answer, just pushed your head down to drench your head and flicked through all of your hair. It was uncomfortable but you saw it; there was glass in your hair. With no warning he pulled you up and you blew water out of your face while he poured water on your hands. You were still too proud to look at anything but the wall but you could still feel it, he was pissed. Then he stopped and your curiosity got the better of you. You gave in and looked to see him looking at you but not in the eyes, above them. He squeezed your eyebrow and washed his hand while you groaned and cursed.

It changed after that, you felt his anger starting to wane, fizzle into nothing while he dumped alcohol on your arms. He froze when he got to your knees. “There’s so much left to do.” He said. He was right, your legs were cut up all over. It wasn’t what he said but how he said it. It was almost a breath that could’ve just not happened. “There’s… so much left.”

“Peter?” You thought he was tired and he was going to tell you to finish by yourself. That he was going to bed and say ‘I just can’t with you’.

But he was haunted. “You were in pajamas. You weren’t even wearing shoes. And you hit your head. And you got it on your back.” He was just staring at your legs. Very bloody legs that streamed red down the white tub. “You were just going to walk on the street like this. You were going to bleed out cold in an alley. Someone was going to jump you. I barely got here. If I wasn’t here you would be gone.” He was never an emotionally detached man by any means but he had been so large and in charge it was a shock to see him cry in that moment, when he had been so authoritarian.

“I’m not going to die if I go outside.” Your accusation had weight behind it. He had been like that five months ago and only came out of it because you busted down his door. It was too close to home and you wanted to stop it before it happened, before he could shut off of the world. There was no telling of what would happen if he did.

“Rhino could’ve been running through the streets. Prowler could’ve been on the loose. Some car could’ve hit you.”

“None of that is going to happen.”

“You don’t know that.” He held your knee and thumbed over it like it would break. It did hurt but you decided against showing that. “And I don’t want you to be another person who tells me that.”

Showering after that was quiet and quick. Wrapped, clothed, in bed. Peter had given you painkillers that put you to sleep. And Peter wasn't there, he was losing his mind in the living room walling off the window. After everything he’s done to lock up the place it was safe to say he was never getting his safety deposit back, absolutely not. He’d have to get some wood to keep it closed until he could replace the window but he’d had to settle for cardboard. The blood on the floor was dealt with, kit put away, suit in the sink. He didn’t want to think about any of it. But thought always found him.

Just a peek.

He told himself he wasn’t going to look at you until tomorrow to not see what happened up close but that didn’t happen. One peek turned to two turned to checking every ten minutes. It wasn’t like he was going to get sleep anyways after the day’s events. One of them scared him. He didn’t know why, you didn’t move from your previous position, or maybe that was the exact problem. He rushed to your side and put two fingers to your neck. The blood was running and he could feel the heart beating slow and steady. “You’re asleep.” You were.

But he sat next to the bed all the same. He cradled your hand and kissed it. He could smell the blood, practically taste it and it relieved him just as much as it disgusted him. If you were awake you would tell him you weren’t a kid and that his boo-boo kisses weren’t welcomed so he stole them, for his sake. When you woke up he was still sitting there, his face down and drooling on the sheets, hands holding something that wasn’t there anymore.

#ask and you shall receive #gender neutral reader #atsv #yandere #peter b. parker #peter parker #platonic #platonic yandere #marvel

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catboii · 2 years ago

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← Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 → Full Thread

[Excerpt taken from Agent 23's personal diary]

[Day ####]

Today was interesting.

I’ve been going into the room and talking to the crow, I’ve been calling it Crowvid because it sounds cute. Like crow, corvid and david all rolled into one. Like a people name. I need to call it something other than “the anomaly”, it just sounds… out of place. And it’s almost big enough to be a person. A small person at least, like a three year old. I almost feel like it’s gotten bigger since I first saw it, but maybe it’s just because it was far away from the camera.

Anyway, I was telling Crowvid that I used to play in a chess club in school, and it tilted its head like it was trying to work something out. So I told it all the rules of chess, and it seemed very interested. I mimed out moving the pieces, and it followed my hand around the floor like a little mime-bird. I gave it a little quiz on which pieces move which way, and it did little jumps diagonally or forward! It wasn’t right most of the time, but it did get a couple right, and there was one or two where it looked like it was thinking, and started taking a step, then looked up at me questioningly. Like on the knight, it took 2 steps forward, then looked up at me, and slowly put one of its little feet out to the side, but didn’t put it down until I nodded encouragingly. When I said it was right, it jumped up and down and flapped its wings. It was so cute.

I even went over some of the pieces again, and it got them wrong the 2nd or 3rd time. I’m not surprised though, it’s a lot to remember. It took me years to get it right!

[Day ####]

After a few days of the back and forth talking about chess, 23 decides to bring something up to her Overseer. She asks if she can bring the wildlife book in the room, as the creature has been making some major progress, and she wants to prove that it can be safe around other objects. After an apparent review to someone higher than her Overseer, she’s allowed.

So on the day that she brings it, she shows it to ‘Crowvid’ through the first section of glass. The creature perks up, and then hops over looking excited. Once she’s in the room the animal plops itself down where they normally sit, and she sets the book down, then herself, and opens it to the last page they were on.

“Ermines, or Stoats, are Mustelids native to Eurasia and North America. They are very brave and sometimes take on prey up to five times their own size!”

The crow is now settled beside 23’s leg, pressed against it so she can feel it breathing. Or not… It doesn’t seem to be breathing. As she talks, she studies it, watches if its feathers are moving with the motion of breathing or not. After what must be a few minutes, she can’t see anything. Strange. She should write this in her observational notes, but she’s not sure if she wants to.

[Day ####]

On this day, 23’s Overseer had approved a request for her to take a chess set from the Archive into the chamber. 23 was honestly surprised that they had one after she had been searching through the log for over half an hour with no luck, and nothing similar in sight aside from ‘One Complete Connect 4 Set’, but she had still been hopeful. She thought possibly there could be a small plastic set that she could borrow, she didn’t have a set of her own at home, and even if she did, she wouldn’t be allowed to bring personal items into the chambers. If they even had just a little travel set, or one of those ‘5 games in 1’...

Eventually though, she came across the listing she was hoping for. ‘One Complete Chess Set x1 Board and x34 Chess Pieces’, she wondered at first why there were 34 pieces, when you only need 32, but it was probably the chess nerd in her that was hung up on such a tiny detail. She’d found a set!

Although, it wasn’t as easy as just grabbing it, stamping something and going on her way. First, she had to sign a lot of forms, one for every single article, each piece has its own complete form, and has a faded letter-number code scrawled on the bottom: White Pawn A-1, White Pawn A-2, etc. Upon the process of signing it out, she found out that there were actually an extra pair of Queens. There's no rule book in the set, so she decided to look up why once she got home, since she had no devices on her to look it up right now.

Once everything's finally checked out, she takes it all down to Crowvid’s chamber, and once inside, sets it up on the floor. The Anomaly even tries to help her set it up. Its awkward and keeps dropping the pieces on their sides as its too big to hover, just tries to take off from the ground and nudge the piece it has along the floor, before it flops down on the floor again, bringing it with them. But it does get them closer to her, and its just nice to interact with it. It becomes a little activity. 23 even tries to see if Crowvid can figure out where each piece goes, and it does get all the pawns in the right places, and the knights and bishops are in the right places after just a little prompt.

The set is quite big, larger than any board she's played on before, and the pieces are quite heavy, so it can walk over the middle of the board without knocking too much over. She asks it to move one of its pieces first, and it uses a clawed foot to pull a White pawn forward, without even being told which colour to choose. Although the fact that the black pieces are in front of Agent 23 could give that away, if it’s clever enough to take that hint. They make a few moves each, nudging the pawns around, then it hesitates at a non-pawn piece. She reminds it what moves it can make, but forgets to make any hand motions, but it tries to move the piece. It turns out that the piece is too closed in by pawns and it’ll knock them over, so after trying to reach through with a clawed foot, 23 moves the piece for it, and hovers the piece over the possible moves it can make, moving over one space, then the other. The Anomaly nods its head lightly when it’s hovering over a space, and 23 is surprised at the motion, but puts the piece down.

They keep doing this, the Anomaly moving the piece if it can reach, 23 moving for it otherwise. The Agent wins of course, she didn’t want to pull any punches, she just wanted to show it what moves you can make and how to win. The Anomaly seems excited. It jumps up onto her shoulder and she jumps, making a small gasping noise at the sudden contact. The creature jumps too and flies over to the far wall.

A faint alarm goes off with a rotating red light flashing above them. Another Agent enters the first interlock and 23 realises, no; remembers is more accurate, that they’ve been watching the whole time. The new Agent stays in the first interlock but asks Agent 23 if she’s alright. 23 asks them to turn off the alarm and leave… The Agent hesitates for a moment, but looks at the Anomaly, which steps further back, ducking its head with its feathers fluffed up, and they leave. The Alarm turns off.

23 sits in silence for a while, then puts her hand out to the Anomaly. It doesn’t move.

Eventually it’s time to end the observation.

#posted ooc.#drabble.#exp ts.#ts pt7.#scp stuff.#Crowvid was Pup's idea thanks Pup #this felt like alot more? but it's not even 1.3k words. hm #I'm messing up some of the “it's” / “its” pronoun stuff bc i get mixed up on when it's a 's or not..... language lol

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ircnwrought-a · 2 years ago

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ROLEPLAY EXPERIENCE ASKS

*cracks knuckles* ❤️, 🦄, 🔑, 🛍 !! xo // @manupropria

❤️ my first roleplay memory

the very first roleplay i ever did was a tumblr submission based thg simulation in like 2012 lmao !! we all had ocs and there were tasks that we had to submit posts for (what we did during the day, what our interview answers were, etc) and the mod would throw them all into a single narrative story that was posted once a week where you'd see if you made it to the next week/task. the experience made me think of other ways to start writing on here and i joined a closed modern au hunger games group writing annie shortly after ( she's my oldest muse since i still write her !! )

🦄 the best thing that’s happened to me in roleplay this year

is it a cop out answer to say that i'm still incredibly proud of how much i've grown as a writer this year and in the 11 years i've been writing? i came back to rp in 2021 after a several year long hiatus at the suggestion of @heygutlcss & worked really hard to cultivate a space that i'm proud of and comfortable with. even some of the growth this year, like becoming okay with cultivating my muse lists more often ( once upon a time i would have NEVER dropped muses as much as i do but look at me now lol ) and making more of an effort to reach out to people , is a testament to how i've worked on managing anxiety and making this a fun place to be and enjoy after some bad experiences chased me away.

🔑 my favorite type of threads

i'm a hoe for all the threads. i think my favorite tend to be in the 2-3 para range since i can reply to them more often ( longer and i usually have to wait til weekends or several weeks later to come up with things ) and can still add a good bit of detail ( i am LONG WINDED okay i admit this ). i love fluff and angst equally but i always want my threads to focus on the personal dynamic between characters. how are they growing ?? how are they changing ?? how are their words and actions going to affect one another ??

🛍 the one thing i wish all of my followers knew about me

i have been told on more than one occassion that i can come off as intimidating. i'm not sure what i do that gives off that impression, but i would love followers to know that i'm really just a big nerd that likes to yell about things in caps on disco/dms. if we're mutuals, it's because i WANT to write with you and talk to you. i want followers to know that it's totally okay to message me, send memes, like starter calls, etc even if we've never spoken or plotted with each other in the past. it will seriously make my day.

#❛ time in a bottle ❜ ▬ ( answered. )#❛ give my love to all who remember me ❜ ▬ ( ooc. )#manupropria #munday.#(( *smooches you* ))

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dreamofthe-wild · 2 years ago

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20 Questions for Writers

Tagged by @faelynny (nerd) 1. How many works do you have on AO3? 33 as of this post. 2. What's your total AO3 word count? 35,905, it seems low for the amount of works i've posted, but I have some old 100-300 word drabble challenges posted and a few crack fics.

3. What fandoms do you write for? I used to write for Linked Universe (LOZ), but I don't anymore. Right now I am writing actively for Genshin Impact and I have some unposted Fire Emblem Three Houses fics in the works.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? - some things can't be solved by being cut with a sword (376) - you probably couldn't see for the lights but you were staring straight at me (234) - if i had a boy (207) - mighty pumpkin soup for the soul (194) - pouring out a cold one for your homie (170) (all are Linked Universe)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I try to when I can, if I can come up with an answer then 9 times out of ten I will respond. Sometimes I even just comment to thank them for reading. I won't be holding conversation threads much though.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? There are definitely angstier ones that haven't been posted, but I'd say probably you mean nothing to me, it has an ending where essentially one of the characters sacrifices himself to bring back the rest of his team from the dead and wishes he had never met them to spare him the heartache, it ends with him dying alone and with regrets.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? It's not posted yet, but my Genshin Fic "Our Converging Paths", after a tense battle, the characters end up bonding on their way back home.

8. Do you get hate on fics? I have before, but no one can hate my fics as much as I do /hj/jk I just kinda delete the comments and block, because if my fic is causing them that much distress that they need to comment that, then maybe it's for the best that they can't interact with it anymore. /lh

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I do not, but the closest I've gotten is writing a crack fic about how a character's ass jiggles.

10. Do you write crossovers? I may have one or two in the works but they aren't my favorite, I generally like to write things that could be plausible in canon, where canon has left things unfortunately empty.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Yes but it was way before my ao3 account, on wattpad someone was stealing my fic and I ended up just deleting my account lol.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? No, but I wouldn't say no.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, but none have ever been finished or posted.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship? I don't ship things very often, and can probably count my ships across all fandoms on just my two hands, but right now my all-time favorite ship would have to be Dimitri/Claude (fire emblem)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? I was working on a fic about the First Link and Hylia and it turned into a cool medieval political drama with heavy fantasy elements, but I don't think it will ever get done.

16. What are your writing strengths? I have been told I'm really good at dialogue and banter.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Finishing fics lol/hj I'd say seriously that being descriptive of the environment is very hard, I can describe a wound or a situation fairly decently, but trying to make the world exist and not make it feel like this is happening in some dark void is difficult.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I never have, because I only know English, but if it is done well and not just some random google translated phrases thrown into a fic at random, I think it can add a lot to a story.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Technically my first fanfiction was about Hetalia. But, I've basically wiped my old fanfics' existence from history, so now I suppose I could say Linked Universe.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written? It is still in progress, I have a story about Dimitri that will come out eventually, but I haven't been able to work on it recently, I don't know who to tag lol I don't use tumblr really that often.

#writing #fanfiction #archive of our own #20 questions for writers #fic writing #20 questions

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clockworkspider · 3 years ago

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So @mishkakagehishka's other post here reminds me of some of my own observation on ! and !! era, and since it's a huge derail I figured I might as well make a separate post.

So the central thing about enstars is that it's always been character focused. The story tend to takes an amoral and apolitical stance and isn't really about who's right and who's wrong. It's really about characters and their individual growth. And for the school era, that works out really well. The characters are in an isolated fishbowl where their decisions can change their world, but doesn't really impact the world outside.

So on one hand, this means it's hard to place much material weight to the character's actions. Like... okay, the 5Es were "executed" during the "war", but they're still alive... And it just seems like a lot of the stakes are more metaphorical than physical.

Contrast this with the (sometimes comically) insane consequences in the !! era. When Alkaloid are roped into ES's pyramid scheme they're literally gonna be in debt to ES for the rest of their lives if they fail. That's serious shit. They're not gonna be metaphorically killed. It's literally close to indentured slavery. And like... you also know that ES is benchmarking for the idol industry going forward, and they're making an industry where idols are paid in scrip. So how they do things has real consequences to society. (See RhyLin neighbourhood gentrification/renewal project during Succession Match.)

So like... yeah it's cool that enstars is dipping its toes into social commentaries now. But as the scale of the plot gets grander, I personally find it distracting from the character's personal drama. (Who cares about Keito and Rei's nerd drama when there's a whole racialized neighborhood's fate hanging by a thread?) Which is insane because THE PERSONAL DRAMA IS WHAT THE NARRATIVE WILL ACTUALLY RESOLVE! And like... here's the thing. I love social commentaries. I love politics. But Enstars narrative continues to be, for the most part, stubbornly amoral and apolitical. The idols are (most likely) never going to unionize no matter how much the narrative implies they're in a capitalist hellscape. It's not that kind of story. It's about individual characters finding their individual happiness.

Which brings me to Korka's point earlier. I do think there is a noticeable tonal shift between ! era and !! era, where I feel like a lot of the ! stories feels more focused and... while it's not at all down to earth, I get the illusion that the character in focus and their issues are the whole world due to the limited scale. While the !! stories can sometimes lean a bit heavy on the shock value and also feel a bit... scattered with all the themes/commentaries going on.

(As an aside, knowing some meta info, Akira had a bit more directions/shackles from HappyEle back in ! era.)

Anyway I think there's give and take for both. With the stories I've read so far, I'm actually among the people who prefers ! era writing. (Sad!) But !! def has its draw too.

(As an aside, I've been told Akira had a bit more directions/shackles from HappyEle back in ! era. And like... maybethatwasgoodactually... maybe he got a bit too drunk on power for SS... But that's my subjective opinion.)

#enstars

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generic-doors-ask-blog · 2 years ago

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The beginning #1 ----------------------

The excited pitter patter of footsteps filled the once silent dusty air. Muffled giggles and the soft scratching of wood as two friends desperately tried and failed to keep silent.

“I TOLD you it was real! I told you! I told youuuuuu! You owe me ten knobs nerd!”

“SHhhHhHhhHg! Screech!! Your gonna wake everyone up!!! I don’t wanna get into trouble with your parents aga-“

“Tada!”

Screech gestured to a large wooden door. Upon it’s surface contained hundreds of tiny intricate wooden engravings depicting tiny ghosts.

Most of them were asking questions to larger entities, writing or perhaps drawing in what appeared appeared to be even tinier books. Others did their daily routines beneath a large orb with strange rays beaming from it and wearing sunglasses while eating, sleeping, playing..sewing.. Hiding from ..something..scratched out... And it in the middle of it all..contained a quote in a strange language that neither child could comprehend..but ended in a large question mark that was the center of it all. Window brushed its fingers over the tiny intricate wooden engravings on it in silent awe.

“I’ve never seen a door like this before..”

“Cool huh?” Screech said, popping its head out from an even smaller door that was integrated into the larger one.

“Heck yea!” Sally said with an excited shake of its tail.

“Cmon cmon! There’s more inside!”

Sally slipped through small entranceway with ease. It was greeted to a room with a single desk, scattered blank scrolls pelted the floor, bits of shredded fabric lay askew, sewing thread and needles ran amok and small shards of shattered glass peppered the ground. Sally thumped its tail in excitement, carefully lifting up a dark green spool of thread. “This one reminds me of my dad! But..darker!”

Sally reached for another spool, but still with tiny flannel squares.

“Ooo! This one reminds me of ‘60!” Sally said with a little wave of its tail. It tucked the spool into its back fur and kept rummaging through the scattered debris.

Screech picked up an old knarled long peice of wood and twirled it for a second. “I found this earlier. This looks like one of Snare’s arms..but uhh.. wood? Wood thing!”

Sally stopped what it was doing and turned its head to look. “Ooo! Lemme see!”

“Nope. Wood thing is mine!”

“Gimme!” Sally cried.

“Nope! Mine!” And then Screech unceremoniously whacked it over the head with a stick.

“Ow..Gimme!”

Whack.

“Ow, stop! Give it to meee!”

Whack.

Window snapped around, grabbed a large spool of and turned around grinning before striking back with a quick and horrible vengeance. “MPH-“ Screech recoiled, rubbing it’s head. "That..didn't even hurt!"

"Yea, sureee..Now- Gim-"

A loud, ominous creaking sound filled the air from behind the two young entities. Both turned to see the source of the noise only to find a large locked chest behind them. It is somewhat different from the ones that normally appeared in the hotel. It was made from a lighter-colored wood and larger than usual... That, the varnish on it made it look newer than it probably currently was. "Hell yea! Treasure time baby!" Sally said, its hand already reaching into its fur to grab something. "Wait- Sally this wasn't..This wasn't there before.." It's voice trailed off as Sally plucked a pair of lockpicks out of its back fur. Sally took notice, briefly it paused and tilted its head. "What.. Are ya scared?" it said, twirling the the lockpicks around for a second before pointing them at Screech like it was a microphone. Screech recoiled, it's smile became slightly uneasy."PfFT N-no! Just..open it up already!" Window rolled its eyes and began to carefully pick away at the the lock. After a few minutes of non-stop digging, it's eyes narrowed and it's smile began to fade to into pure concentration. "What's taking-" A finger was swiftly jammed into Screech's face. "ShhHHhhhAAAAAND-" Click.

“‘Tah-Dah!”

Screech’s eyes widened in surprise, before curiosity got the best of it and it scrambled over to see what the box contained.

Sally slowly opened the box.. - Only to see 100 pairs of beady eyes stare right back at it. .. ... ...... Two screams were heard across the hotel. - About thirty minutes later -

The sound of a ticking of a grandfather clock was the noise that filled the room once the two children finished retelling the events to several exhausted hotel denizens.

Seek stood at the center of group of parents, its hands had long since risen to cover its face and a muffled groan could be heard from behind them.

Rush, the smile of whom had long since faded away into a look of pure emband concern. and a tiny bit of pride that its child had managed to pick a lock all by itself. started first. "Aaaah, well uhhhh uhmm.." it tapped it's fingers together for a few before clapping its hands. "ANYWAYS, I think it's time you go to bed Sally. You ahhh.. little stinkers shouldn't have been outa bed in the first place-..!" Rush began to scoot Sally out a nearby door with a massive cartoonish hand. "But Paaaaar!! What about the ghosts??" Sally whined. "The adults are talkin about it. Goodnight, sleep tight and don't go around pickin any locks without permission!" It said, it's smile growing slightly wider before lowering its voice. It turned it's head to quickly check before reaching into its fog and pulling out a pair of lock picks and stealthily gave the smaller entity a pair of lockpicks. "Or at least don't get caught, ya coot!" Sally smile grew wide, it grabbed the lockpicks and gave its parent a hug before racing off into the hallway.

Seek raised its head from its hands slightly.

“You too, Screech. It’s late and you shouldn’t have been up in the first place.”

“BuT-“

“Bed. Now.” It said icily, it’s voice no longer cascading and resonating but instead was filled with withering exhaustion.

Screech shrank a little before reluctantly creeping away. Seek’s eye softened a little before raising its head and turning to address small ensemble of entities that sat encircled near the the fateful box.

“Have any of you seen..such a room before?” Seek rubbed it’s eye.

“Nope.”

“Nein.”

“Nah, never seen it.”

“No, have you..?”

“Wait- the kids ain’t in danger?”

Figure shook its head.

“No. ⁿᵒ.”

Jack slowly crept away, while Rueben whispered something to Figure who quietly nodded before quickly departing soon after.

Seek sighed before shaking its head. “How..? How has this room evaded our sight this long? It doesn’t have a label…number..nothing.. and I can’t even find it with ANY of my eyes.” It said, blinking away visions of rooms after fruitless rooms.

“ More ᵐᵒʳᵉ importantly ⁱᵐᵖᵒʳᵗᵃⁿᵗˡʸ. ⁽ˡʸ﹖⁾ why ᵈⁱᵈ did ⁱᵗ it ⁽ⁱᵗ﹖⁾ ˢʰᵒʷ show ⁱitself ᵗᵒ to them ᵗʰᵉᵐ﹖ ᵃⁿᵈ and ⁿᵒᵗ not ᵘˢ us?” Eyes mused as their gaze drifted towards the box.

“Seek, should we em..be keepin them in there?”

“Here.. let me have a look at them.” Hide calmly over to the chest and knelt down.

“Be careful Hide, we don’t know how they’ll react once freed.” Seek said cautiously as Hide gently opened the chest.

“Shh..” It quietly answered as it carefully cracked the chest’s top open just a peek to peer in. It’s eye dilated before making itself relax.

After a few seconds, it opened the lid wider and slowly placed a hand inside..

..For a few minutes, the room was silent as Hide waited patiently with its hand in the in the box’s lid.

Finally Ambush spoke up. “Should we do somethin because it’s-“

“No, wait- here we go…” Hide murmured, before carefully standing back up with an asker in its hand.

All the entities stared in shock for a moment.

“oh dear.”

“Wait ʷᵃⁱᵗ Didn’t ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ..ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ Sally ˢᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵃʸ Say ᵗʰᵉ The ᵇᵒˣ Box ʷᵃˢ Was..ˡᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ Locked..?”

“W-Wait Seek what’s going on-..?”

“-Is that a fuckin kid…?”

“..Oh my god…how long were they in there?”

“W-wait..T-this one isn’t a c-child..I can tell from the energy they give off..But..” Hide melted a little, still keeping the asker comfortable as possible as it did.

“-yes..I-I did see some b-babies in there-..” Hide said with a hint of despair in its voice.

Ambush’s face fell into a deep frown.

“Oh ain’t that any better? Don’t really matter if they ain’t fuckin kids or not- Some..asshole locked a buncha small entities in a dark cramped container for potentially days on end.”

“I think I’m going to be sick..” Figure trilled, still trying to find its words and with its hands now firmly placed on its ears.

“From..what I can hear..it’s..That’s..that’s just dreadful..but that can’t be true, right Ambush? Besides from Shadow, Halt, and well……..Jeff and El-Goblino….There’s so few resident in the hotel who aren’t here tonight..” Figure’s voice trailed off, unsure of what to say anymore.

Rush’s pupils grew increasingly wider and let out a creaking noise whilst Ambush licked its teeth.

“..Very interestin you mentioned Jeff, Figure.”

Eyes shivered, while Hide quickly put the asker back into the the box and slithered away into a nearby closet while Seek began to bubble.

“But it wouldn’t be all that out’ah his ball park considerin what he and that prey thief did to A-60’s face..”

“We don’t know if he’s done this yet.” Figure gently clicked. “While..I hate Jeff too..I don’t think this his or the prey thief’s doing..I don’t think we should jump to conclusions without reasonable evidence.” Figure’s clicks became more nervous.

While the two talked, Rush carefully pulled the chest toward itself and pulled a granola bar out of its fuzzy fog. Carefully cracking the top of the chest just a little to feed it to them. "Anyone hungry in there..?" Crunch crunch crunch. "There ya go.."

“You don’t have any idea, do ya Fig? Do you even REALIZE what the prey thief is even capable of..? And IM PRETTY DAMN SURE from day one that it hated us for pretty much existing given all it’s done to us so far!!!”

“Ambush, please listen to me! That’s..a good point..but listen..something about this doesn’t seem like..I don’t know-..would..Jeff have something to gain from this..?” Figure trilled back.

"I dunno..I mean what would he have 'ta gain from what he allowed It to do to Wrath..? Knobs? Power?...Is he 'datin the damn thing? I'm as clueless as you are Figure but what he did to it was pretty clearly fuc-!"

".. Cease the chatter about Von Tentacle this instant."

Seek interjected loudly, its voice gripping the room like a vice and its body tense and still.

"..." ".." It melted partially into the floor. "..It is..it is very late... I am very tired..and there are more important things to worry about." Seek said gesturing to the box with a melted hand. "Yea..I don't..Well uh Hey seek?..I'm sorry for bein that guy but I don't think any of these little guys hunt too well..Are you sure it's a good idea to uhhh.. be keepin them up here?..andmaybeweshouldtakethemoutoftheboxnowbecausetheyaregettingreallyantsy.." "You're right. Let me check in on them. Once everything is fine, I'll ask where they want to take up residence or if they even wish to stay." .. Seek carefully opened the chest. This time fully exposing the ghosts to the open air. "Hello in there, I am so very sorry for keeping you in here for so long. Are you all okay? Do you need any food or water?" --------------------------------------------------------------------------- - ASKS ON -

Also I ONLY HAVE ONE REQUEST OF YOU GUYS..YOU CANNOT REMEMBER ANYTHING BEFORE THE BOX!!!! (unless your human in origin, in which case you know you were human. But not how you got into the box.)

Originally.. I was just gonna have them take the askers to their room. But I figured that it wouldn't be right for Seek or anyone else to leave you guys in the box without at least checking on you to make sure you aren't injured or gaining input on were you guys might want to stay.

So yea ask away!!!

#CHECK OUT//IN CHARACTER #lore #roblox doors #doors roblox #zero out of ten found

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peacerisendove · 2 years ago

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Dove Reads Big Ethel Energy #2-11 (62-71)

Alright, I said I was going to read through this season and I did get to episode #3 before I completely dropped off for a while.

So I'm back and once more into the breach we go. Time for Dove's Big Ol' Review/Comment Electric Boogaloo cause this is going to be big.

Episodes 2

Not much to say there honestly. It might just be me personally, but I feel the writing is clunky or zipping by too fast in setting up problems for Ethel, such as the chapters about the all-female Olympiad and regarding women in Riverdale for the biography being removed from the book. It sucks of course, but also the way these problems are set up feel like it's a problem simply to be a problem rather than naturally occurring. Perhaps I'm being overly aware of how BEE goes about setting up issues regarding gender and sexism, but it feels rushed and doesn't jive with me.

Episode 3

My same complaint as before is that the issues and how they're present feel shoe horned. Also applied to Ethel and Moose's dynamic just doesn't feel cute or clever.

I do however love their idea for Coach Treadwell to use Moose being in her position as a reason for her to get a pay raise. That is a good idea.

Episode 4

Ethel needs to pick a lane on whether she want the distance from Seth or not. Like I get it being sudden and weird, so it's weird for her to figure out the boundary, but I believe she is also the one who brought up needing Seth to keep his distance.(Though I would need to check back near the end of season 1)

Also he just helped you up. That's it. That's him being nice and isn't something that should be read into.

Ok see? This is cute and natural sounding writing that I love.

What I don't like is what feels like the set up for a love triangle/Ethel potentially developing feelings for Seth. I really get a sense of developing guilt in her talking to Seth while she's dating Moose. Though this may also just potentially point toward the writer making Moose a jealous boyfriend like I've mentioned in the past, and perhaps drawing from his angry personality in the comics.

Hm. Dilton is a teacher? I guess we'll get more out of that later.

Episode 5

MOOSE BOOY WHY ARE YOU LYING ABOUT THE NEW TEACHER BEING DILTON?!?! I hope Ethel told him about what happened with Veronica and the cyber bullying.

I also do not like what they've done to my precious nerd Dilton :c . Honestly no one is like themselves. They merely have the facade of them.

Hmmm...questions about long distance. Who do we know that is away?

Seth.

(I know. I know. I'm pulling at nonexistent threads, but my brain immediately thought of Seth. Then her life in New York of course.)

Episode 6

Ok, I know I'm nitpicky, but why did they not put Nancy in a different outfit than her regular one for the poster?

The veneer of perfection in Ethel's life and her having these moments to gush just don't endear me to Ethel as a character.

Episode 7

I smell jealousy and more misunderstandings on the horizon. Honestly, all problems in this comic can't be based on misunderstandings.

Episode 8

Considering we spent a good portion of the first season revolving around Ethel's woes and the reader is meant to feel sorry of her/empathizing with her and her problems and now we are seeing Ethel have access to a very luxurious apartment, that her life is relatively problem free, except for social problems, once again makes her a very unrelatable character. There's a dissonance I feel here as a reader. She feels less like a rounded character and feels more like dream fulfillment.

Now if it was Veronica helping her out then it would make more sense for me. At least it would feel like the comic is playing within the rules of the universe and using established characters. And it would have been nice and fun!

So basically they just have a nice time together in New York and Ethel sorta/implicitly wants to convince him about New York/wants him to like it there, which I get if you're worried about the future of your relationship when you and your partner live in two different places.

Also minor complaint: I know it's webcomic and that this is a job with time constraints, but if you're going to do the sprawling city scapes and the message is to sell the character to the setting then I think it should look nicer/sell the scenery to the reader too.

Episode 9

Now in contrast to the last episode which focused on the scenery this episode focuses on culture and it does so well to sell you on it. Talking about the rush of getting a seat on the subway, that Ethel would tackle someone for a set is fun and entertaining! It draws you in!

Also showing Moose unable to fully adapt to it all and that he was tired due to the fast paced nature of the city was nice too.

Seeing Ethel's growth and that she is comfortable to say I love you to Moose is nice as well. This is what I like seeing from characters.

Episode 10

This episode focuses on Seth and Trula. Seth talks about how his last relationship was five years ago. Truly talks about being aromantic.

And maybe I wasn't wrong about what I said about connecting the dots earlier. Seth seems to have feelings for Ethel perhaps? That's what I think this is hinting at at least.

This response from Ethel is unnecessarily aggressive. I don't think they've really talked about it in detail, so I don't know why the response is aggressive. Like you can't be mad if you haven't talked about it. Now if I'm just forgetting and they have had this conversation repeatedly then I understand why she would be annoyed with Moose's comment.

When it comes to Moose and Ethel together Ethel is the lead I feel like and there is a lack of balance between them. Or perhaps it's that despite the fact they are portrayed as happy together they don't actually compliment each other as a couple.

Perhaps it's just me, but I don't see their relationship lasting in this comic.

Episode 11

I've connected the dots. I told you! I'm not the only one!

Me: -DISBELIEF-

This is not going to end well. Moose's jealousy is definitely going to be part of the death knell of their relationship. Remember what I've said. Mark my words.

Ethel also talks about feeling guilty regarding talking to Seth since he isn't Moose's favorite person, and I feel like while part of the guilt is due to Moose's on insecurity affecting her, I also think that a sense of guilt may be due to her potentially having underlying feelings toward Seth.

And that's if for my commentary on the episodes so far!

#Dove Reads Big Ethel Energy #Dove reads BEE #me: rushing on less than 6% battery to write this

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sideofmango · 4 years ago

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The Warrior Queen & Her Pharaoh: Part I

Part I: In the Beginning

In honor of Black History Month (that’s coming up), and because I’m a nerd for mythology of any type, I thought it would be fun to write about one of my favorite time periods, Ancient Egypt.

We didn’t really get to spend much time on them in school, and I love learning about these powerful Egyptian gods, goddess, pharaohs, and queens.

So N E ways...ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 400 FOLLOWERS...um WTF ILY <3

I TOOK SOME CREATIVE LIBERTIES (all characters are 18+ in this)

Pairings: pharaoh!god! Bakugou x warrior!princess! Reader Warnings: cursing, disrespectful people, bad bitch Mitsuki Description: Before the new pharaoh can be officially crowned, he must wed. You, the queen of a large warrior tribe called, The Zodos Tribe, are in the same position...the only problem? The future pharaoh is a bit of an ass.

*Extra info: this is written in third person so even though this is a reader insert, I’ll be writing it as if you’re another character so basically no me/my*

and yes, I’m aware it is kinda short and Bakugou isn’t in it that much, but it’s to set the scene lol...I promise there will be a lot of Bakubitch content in the next part

**Tag List is at the bottom**

𓂀 PART I 𓂀 PART II 𓂀

The arid air and blazing sun didn’t make for the most comfortable environments, and yet many people called the desert home.

In a secluded river valley lived the Zodos Tribe, the most fearsome warriors throughout the land, known for their brutality and unmatched strength. Though to (y/n), they were her family and her people.

Princess (y/n), the eldest of seven children, sat in the ornate palace that overlooked the main river. She had recently been crowned the queen of her people after her father chose to abdicate the throne. Her attendants sat around her while others waved large palm leaves, blowing the dry air in an attempt to make it cooler.

“(y/n), ready your belongings! You are to depart with your father within the hour.” The 18 year old turned seeing her mother’s slim form approach her.

Eshe was the personification of grace, similar to her only daughter, though she was taller. Her smooth dark skin glittered in the sunlight and her golden eyes searched her daughter’s face for any signs of backtalk before a content look crossed her face when (y/n) simply sighed and nodded.

“We readied her belongings already, Queen Mother.” (y/n)’s attendant, Subira, answered as she bowed upon her entrance to the room.

“Very well.” Eshe nodded, her snake like eyes shifting from her daughter and her servants to the landscape. “Go ready yourself. You are to meet royalty, Girl.”

“I am royalty, Mother.” (y/n)’s tone was laced with boredom as she stood from her seat. “What’s so special about these royals I am to meet, anyways?”

“That is not my place to tell.” She replied before pushing her daughter towards her room and into the large bathroom. The cool stone rubbed against her warm skin as (y/n)’s attendants unrobed her and bathed her while two others released her hair.

Some time later, the teen was redressed and her hair had been braided again, this time with decorative gold beads and thread woven into her thick dark hair. She had been dressed into a white sleeveless sheath dress, over that a sheer white and gold kalasiri tied in place with a gold and intricately beaded sash. A wide beaded collar was secured around her neck, brightly colored stones and metals woven and set into the necklace.

(y/n) slid on a new pair of reed sandals after Subira had finished her makeup, the dramatic black liner around her almond shaped eyes made the golden hue that she had inherited from her mother shine in the light. “Let us depart.” (y/n) motioned to her ladies as they nodded, following after her as the teenage queen adjusted the heavy silver and gold bracelets around her wrists.

“You look like a true queen, (y/n).” Her mother said as (y/n) walked past the room she had once been in.

“Thank you Mother. I will be off now.” (y/n) called back, not waiting for a response before walking out of the palace and towards her royal chariot where her father stood talking to one of the servants.

“Prepare the chariots.” Her father’s deep voice commanded as the servants nodded running off to get the large chariots ready for the journey. (y/n)’s father turned to look at her, his dark brown eyes looking her over once before smiling. “You look beautiful, Daughter.”

“Thank you, Father.” (y/n) smiled back as the servants ran back over stating that the chariots were ready to go.

(y/n) didn’t ask many questions of her father, mainly because she didn’t really care where they were going, though butterflies seemed to fill her stomach when the large palace in the capital city came into view as they crossed over another dune.

“Your mother asked me to remind you of your manners and your station before we left.” (y/n)’s father told her, as the girl sighed and rolled her eyes. Her father chuckled at her reaction before the pair stepped off of their chariots and were met by royal attendants from the palace.

“King Nafi, Princess (y/n), please follow me to the throne room. The Pharaoh and Great Royal Wife, are eager to converse.”

“I am a-” (y/n) didn’t finish her sentence, feeling her father’s strong hand come down on her shoulder before he stepped forward and followed the attendant up the stairs and inside the large palace, leaving (y/n) to catch up.

“Stupid man. I’m a queen.” (y/n) mumbled to herself as she followed the men into the throne room.

The teen stood beside her father, her eyes gazing over the two royal figures in front of her. One was a man with dark hair and dark eyes. A woman sat beside him, her hair ash blonde and her eyes a crimson color. They were both dressed lavishly as the woman sighed, mumbling something to her husband, before offering a smile to (y/n).

“I am sorry. My son seems to be unable to be found.” She told the girl who simply nodded before giving her father a look.

“(y/n), why don’t you walk the grounds? I have business to attend to with the Pharaoh and Great Royal Wife.” (y/n)’s father brushed her off, shooting her a look before practically pushing the girl towards the door.

“He doesn’t even have any power anymore! How dare he treat me like this. Why the hell did I even come if I’m not sitting in on the business? This is so stu-” (y/n) ranted to herself, not realizing where she was walking before she bumped into something...more like someone.

“Watch where you’re going, Extra!” The boy’s gruff voice said, his tone laced with venom as his red eyes glared down at where she sat after being knocked over.

“Oh get off your high horse! You can’t talk to me that way! I’m a Queen!” Her eyes finally landed on the boy’s face, his ash blonde hair wild and spiky as his crimson eyes seemed to darken and narrow.

He didn’t wear full linens, only enough to cover his lower half, leaving his chest exposed. His skin was tanned from spending most of his time in the sun and a thin shine of sweat covered his muscles as if he had just been doing some type of physical activity before they had bumped into each other.

“Well here you aren’t.” The boy told her before scoffing and walking off down a corridor, not even bothering to help (y/n) up.

“Sorry. It was nice to meet you though.” A spiky redhead said with a small closed-mouth smile. He had been following the rude blonde along with another blonde male, a dark haired male, a pink skinned girl, and a dark haired girl.

The group of teens were about to say something else to the girl when the explosive blonde from earlier could be heard yelling, “Kirishima, I didn’t allow you to socialize!”

“Uh r-right. Bye!” The red haired boy said before they all disappeared down the expansive hall.

“What a jerk.” (y/n) scoffed thinking back to the ash blonde. Getting up and dusting her hands off, she continued to walk around the halls.

The black girl returned back to the throne room after some time, having gotten lost though she was too proud to ask for help from one of the many servants scurrying around.

“Ah, you’ve arrived just in time for dinner, (y/n).” The blonde woman spoke, gesturing towards a large open room that overlooked the river, a large table filled with food sat in the middle.

“I apologize.” (y/n) said simply before taking a seat where the blonde woman had gestured, unfortunately across from that annoying boy from earlier. “Where is my father? My servants?” (y/n) wondered after a moment of silence, noticing that the people in question were missing.

“They’ve left some time ago.” She answered. “This is your new home after all.”

“Excuse me?” (y/n) and the blonde boy had the same reaction, choking on their food with wide eyes.

“Yes, your father never told you of the agreement?” The brown haired man asked.

“Agreement?” She repeated.

“Yes, you are to marry our son in two days time. It’s been arranged since before you both wore garments.” The blonde woman said with a small laugh.

(Fun fact: Ancient Egyptian children didn’t wear clothes until they were six years old, so they ran around naked except for the jewelry they wore)

“Him?”

“Her?”

“Show some respect to her Katsuki! She is to be your wife!” The woman said, slapping the boy’s head quickly causing (y/n) to smirk and laugh lightly.

Katsuki didn’t like that very much, glaring at the golden eyed girl with a low growl.

“Mitsuki, Katsuki...” The man started to say softly, flashing at smile at (y/n).

“You’re right Masaru. If only our son wasn’t such a brat.” Mitsuki sighed, slapping Katsuki again before going back to her food.

“I am the Pharaoh, you can’t treat me that way!” Katsuki protested, angrily cutting his meat.

“What was that?” Mitsuki questioned, her red eyes narrowing as she shot a warning look at her son.

“Nothing.” Katsuki mumbled, his eyes narrowing into a glare at the black girl across from him.

What a dick. What did my parents get me into? (y/n) thought to herself as she stared back at the boy across from her.

Tag List: (Let me know if y’all wanna be added. Just send me a message)

@bakugous-mamas

TAGS:

#katsukisblackteddy #pharaoh bakugou #warrior princess reader #bakugou x black reader #ancient egypt au #bnha x poc!reader #bnha x black reader #in honor of black history month coming up #ancient egypt #TWQ&HP Mini Series #i don't know how many parts I want to write for this yet #black history month 2021 #mha x black reader #mha x poc!reader #pls i love mitsuki

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drsteggy · 3 years ago

Note

Since you are posting the meta-questions thread, I'll take the chance to ask the following:

7, 11, 17

Needless to say, feel free to answer only if you like to. Personally I don't perceive you like someone who's "envious" of others, but rather like someone who might look at others to learn a skill you would like to acquire or improve. That's how I have interpreted question 11.

Hope you're having a nice Sunday ^^

Thank you for the ask @pinkraccoon !

7 What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree?

I feel like I write pretty much the way I tell stories in person. There are some differences, of course. Telling a story becomes a performance and I’ve learned to tell stories in a way to be funny. I can think of one example of a story that I tell in person that I’ve also written out to “tell” like on Discord and it’s pretty similar though when I’m telling it to a chat room I word things a little differently because my vocal tone would be all you need in person.

I’m not sure others agree because the audience I tell stories to is different from the one who reads them. I’ve been told I use metaphors well, and can make people experience a space or a thing well.

11 What do you envy in other writers?

So, I am a very, very competitive person. I will attempt to rise to the slightest of challenges with the stupidest reward attached to it. Give me a buzzer based trivia game on any subject and I will come for your eyeballs even if I know nothing about the topic.

This serves me well in a lot of ways and is pretty destructive in a lot of ways. Like I was absolutely a slave to my AO3 stats page and comparing my brand new account to people doing this ten years and it didn’t go well until I realized I should only be comparing my stuff to my own work and not to someone six fandoms and a million words in.

Having said that, there are a few writers who I will read almost anything they write because it flows well, has a sense of humor I love or I really like how they do their smut, or write emotion or whatever. I try to treat it more like here’s a thing I should break down and learn from rather than just freaking out how I’ll never get close to this.

There are also a few people out there who I’d really like to be friends with but holy cow I get really awkward and come off as a stalker, I think, so I do envy folks who seem to be able to execute that smoothly.

17 Do you think readers perceive your work - or you - differently to you? What do you think would surprise your readers about your writing or your motivations?

So, having said that I’m kind of awkward and shy one on one, even in a format where you don’t know my real name, I don’t generally have a great sense of how my work or I am perceived. Like I think I’m a great big nerd but I’ve been told I come of as cool or intimidating or whatever and I never really see that at all. I promise I am not nearly as standoffish as I apparently come across.

Also have no idea if this is surprising or not but I don’t have a ton of very formal English/ creative writing training. I was all pretty hard science and writing for that is a very different beast. I read a lot and I know what I like to read but I haven’t ever really thought much about the mechanics. I’ve definitely been in chat rooms where people are discussing breaking down how story functions and beats and whatever else and I’m definitely the dumb one. Like I don’t even know enough to know what questions to ask.

Link to original ask post

#answered asks #ask games #meta fic asks #pink raccoon

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yournameyn · 4 years ago

Text

Feeling Deeply

Genre: Fluff so much fluff. Arranged Marriage fic.

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

A/N: Aaaaaa this is the first fic I'm posting ever ever. It's basically a way to follow the red thread of my desires. OC is named Brishti. She's Indian. She's Bengali & curvy & an introvert. This whole fic is 90% going to be a slow burn fluff fic about two introvert nerds getting to know each other. Seriously there's like hardly any real angst, maybe slight angst about okay when are these two going to bang - if you look very carefully but basically its just slooooow fluuuufff. Hopefully you all like it. Please let me know what you think.

Current Chapter: Remember this is all happening in the 1960s. OC & Namjoon are both really well off first gen immigrants. Nowhere is this the general representation of immigrant experience. Just a special exception because I want to write fluuuuffff. A bit of how this weird marriage took place. Lots of character details.

Previously in Feeling Deeply: Preface-ish

CHAPTER 1

The doorbell rang. Brishti got up to answer it. She handed the cheque to the movers. She was proud to have chipped in. Namjoon hadn’t had a problem with it. Brishti had tried really hard to react as though that was a very normal thing to have happened in a marriage (it wasn’t, not in the marriages she’d seen). Namjoon had taken part in picking out the furniture too - something that was always delegated to the woman. In fact, both of them had been clueless about how to decorate a home. All the same, they’d put together the basics. Today, they had received and unpacked all of their furniture - a two seater sofa, two tables - one for him, one for her & a set of four chairs. And a bed. It had been four days since the wedding.

“Brishti…” Namjoon sighed softly, without her knowing.

He seemed to be drunk on her beauty & her words. He was just noticing how her skin reminded him of the colour of the dark chestnut wood in the warmest evening glow.

Many of his relatives were upset he’d chosen a dark-skinned woman as his wife, a woman who was four years older nonetheless! He knew what the gossip-mongers would say, since he was one of the most eligible bachelors in their social circle, back home in Korea - ”She’s 30! Indian! I didn’t know the Kims had such bad money problems!” Even thinking about the snide comments they would be saying made him livid.

He was thankful his parents only wanted him to be happy. Happily married, that is. Happily single was not really an option. Only two weeks ago, Namjoon was approaching 27 and being severely pressured by his parents to get married soon. They were so tired of their son’s fickle mind that they were even prepared to accept a white woman for their daughter-in-law. When his parents heard about Brishti, they were overjoyed that she belonged to the same continent as Korea.

Namjoon would later learn the strange events that landed his would-be Indian bride in the pile of photos sent by his parent-appointed-official Korean matchmaker-cum-defacto-grandmother.

Brishti had avoided marriage like the plague & had tried to keep her freedom. So much so, the shame she’d brought on had forced her parents to cart her off with her brother to London, claiming they’d found a suitor for her there. And so it fell to Bikram, Brishti’s elder brother - who wanted to frolic in London while trying to be a lawyer - to get her married & send word (and a few photos) of his sister’s wedding as soon as possible.

To be in London, to be here in the swinging sixties, Brishti was happy as can be - she was freer here than she had ever been. She cut off her hair to a pixie-cut the first week of being here. Just this would have caused a month-long conflict at her home. Here, she could finally put to use the education she’d received intended as certificates for the trophy wife she was supposed to be. Here, she could dream.

When the novelty of the new place wore off a bit, Brishti missed the forest. She was from Bengal & had practically grown up in the Sunderbans. And that language, the language of forests, that was truly her mother-tongue. There, in the forest everything was equal. A mushroom & a tree, an elephant & an ant - all worked together to create something bigger than the sum of their parts. Out here in the human world, Brishti had noticed a lot more parasitic creatures.

There weren’t many forests in dreary London. Libraries, however, were aplenty. The next best thing was to be surrounded by books. Brishti began dreaming of a life around books. She wanted to work.

When she approached her brother about wanting to apply for an apprenticeship at The British Library, he scoffed at Brishti’s dream. So, a bargain was struck, Brishti would shut up and marry someone that would let her work (just wording it like that enraged her) in exchange for the permission and travel allowance to be an apprentice librarian at the British Library.

Bikram had rushed to his parent-assigned-defacto-Bangla-grandmother-cum-matchmaker but it seemed that she had been rushed to the hospital right before his arrival. Not willing to take any chances, Brishti’s brother had approached the only other matchmaker-cum-asian-grandmother in the building - Namjoon’s. It had taken him an hour and a bribe of 50 pounds to convince the halmeoni to include his ‘wrong-age, wrong-nationality, wrong-colour, wrong-figure, wrong-attitude’ sister’s photos in her pile.

Namjoon saw her in the pile of photos labelled ‘trash’ in Korean - the black and white photograph of Brishti, with the big bright black eyes. And the antics of a woman who clearly didn’t want to get married - she was huffing angrily in the picture, but was about to break into a smile, as if the photographer was teasing her, trying to ease her into taking her picture. There were three pictures, in one of which, Brishti was trying to swat the lens with the book in her hand. Namjoon had studied the picture carefully to find that the book she was reading was Anna Karenina. ‘How fitting’, he had thought then.

He’d told the matchmaker and his parents right away that this is the girl he wanted to meet - the first of all the photos ever shown to him. This was the one right he’d fought for with his parents - he gets to have the final say. His parents had agreed to let him have an almost-arranged marriage. Mostly because of how proud of him they were.

It irked him a little, how proud they were - of their son who had chosen to be a lawyer instead of his thirteen-year-old self’s dream - to be a poet. He knew they meant well. They meant for him to have a stable, settled life. He knew he was a grown man now, still, it scared him to think how they would react if they knew he still wrote poetry and intended to publish, someday, if he ever found someone he could actually read it to. That it was still his dream.

Namjoon got back to the present when Brishti said “Done!” as she handed Namjoon’s pen back to him. She smiled a little smile at him. He felt her smile getting warmer toward him since the first time he’d met her, over a week ago.

Wanting to keep the conversation going, Namjoon asked her, “Is there anything you’d like to ask me?” Half expecting her to ask - ‘How did you decide so soon that you wanted to marry me?’ or ‘Did you ever see me before we met?’ but she turned around to face him & simply asked a question he’d forgotten people could ask each other-

“How are you?”

Just then, it seemed like the universe had conspired for him to meet his dream again - A simple question that carried a hug. Namjoon smiled wide because he found himself married to a poem.

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

Oooooh god you read it?! Thank you so much! Please please let me know what you thought! Get into my messages about it! I would love nothing more than to hear what you felt about this!

#bts kim namjoon #fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon arranged marriage #namjoon x oc #arranged marriage #slow burn #slow burn fic #fluff fic #bts fanfic #bts #indian oc #red thread fics

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ordinaryschmuck · 4 years ago

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My Favorite Moments from It All Started with a Jacket (Chapters 1-10)

Now that I have written ten chapters of It All Started with a Jacket (how the hell are y’all still reading it), I thought I comemorate the occasion by sharing my favorite moments from each chapter. More specifically, every moment that was the most fun for me to write. This can range from moments that made me laugh at my own dumb jokes, or moments that I felt proud of for how well they turned out. Either way, this list is gonna be long. Like, rrrreeeaaallllllyyy lllooonnng. So you might want to strap in before clicking ‘Keep reading.’

Chapter 1

Amity and the car horn

"Oh no, you don't!" Luz sprinted over to Amity's car, to which her rival had already gotten in, and locked the doors. Just as Amity started the engine, Luz was already there, beating her hand against the window.

"If you think I'm too afraid to break a car window, you've got another thing--"

HOOONK!

"...You've got another--"

HOOOOOONK!

"You've got--"

Amity raised her hand above the car horn again with her eyebrow raised and her grin amused. She was essentially challenging Luz to finish that sentence.

"..."

"...You'vegotanotherthingcoming--"

HOOOOOOOOOONK!

"THAT TEARS IT!"

Amity sniffing Luz’s jacket (the main reason why I wrote this in the first place)

Amity set the hanger back where she found it and slowly lifted Luz's jacket up to her face. For a while, she did nothing, choosing instead to just stare at it. And then, she briefly took a small sniff.

'Well, that was a mistake,' was all she could think as intoxicating smells of pinecones and lemons started overtaking her senses. Almost immediately, Amity grabbed the jacket with both hands and shoved her face into it, inhaling more of the scent. After letting out a euphoric sigh, Amity looked at it again, shrugged, and put it back on.

Amity’s apology

"I said that I'm sorry." Amity continued, "Not just for the jacket, but for everything. The insults, the name-calling, and especially the fighting. I'm sorry for all of it."

"...Are you dying?"

"Wha--No!" now Amity turned to face Luz, "Why is that the first thing that came to your mind?"

"I don't know, man," Luz shrugged, "This just seems like some sort of final repentance type of shit. Like when Tom needed Jerry to sign him off to take the escalator to heaven."

"Who the hell is Tom and Jerry?"

"The greatest comic duo of all time, that's who!" Luz genuinely seemed insulted that Amity didn't know, to which she rolled her eyes in response.

Luz’s reaction

Luz opened the door and was about to leave. But then:

"I saw the bi flag."

After Amity spoke, Luz froze in her place. One foot was out the door, and her face was already turned away from Amity's, so she couldn't gauge an expression. So Amity took her chance to go on.

"It's hidden in a spot a person could barely notice, so there's no way that it came with the flag already sewn it," she explained, "Even if you bought the jacket from someone else, you could have easily torn it out. I've seen you done worse. But you kept it in, which makes me think that maybe...That maybe you're bisexual."

Luz didn't say anything.

She didn't do anything.

Instead, she stayed frozen in place, and Amity still couldn't tell what was going on in the human's mind at the moment. Not that she ever could. Eventually, Luz slowly and stiffly sat back in the passenger seat and slammed the car door shut. Her eyes were tight shut, and breathing was ragged, and Amity thought Luz was seething. But then Amity recognized what Luz was doing. She had done the same thing many times when forced to talk with her mother.

Luz was forcing herself not to cry.

Luz’s rant

"...Did you not tell anybody?" was all Amity could ask.

"...I told Willow," Luz confessed, "She has gay dads, so I thought: 'Hey, she gets it.' Other than that, nobody else knows. Except for you."

"Not even your mom?"

"Especially not her! She's super religious! If I came out to her, then I might as well pack a suitcase and get ready to live on the streets!"

"Why?"

"Because humans are not like witches," Luz looked back at Amity, clapping her hands for emphasis, "For humans, what matters in life is the color of your skin, the people you like, and the gender you're given at birth. Go against any of that, and you're screwed!"

"That's awful."

"That's life!" Luz stated, her eyes glistening, "And I had to put up with that bullshit for all of it! I had to deal with dumb gringas in the locker room who might think that I was a pervert just because I liked girls. I had to deal with pretending to be interested in one gender and hide a part of myself that people think I should be ashamed of! I had to deal with the fear that the one person I trust the most might throw me to the curb because of something that shouldn't even matter!"

Luz paused to wipe tears that had leaked out from her eyes.

"I had to deal with all of that," she went on, "Because that's just what humans are like. I wish we were like witches. I really do. But we're not, and the sad part is, we might never will."

Chapter 2

Luz is a prick

Luz kicked a discarded beer can down the sidewalk. Only to just as quickly picking it up and ditching it in a recycling bin that someone left out on the curb for trash day. Luz may be a rebel, but she isn't a lazy prick.

"And what the hell does me being bi have anything to do with it?"

"Bi what?"

Luz stopped both her walk and her ramblings after hearing that voice. Looking to her left, Luz saw a woman carrying her groceries to her house. That woman is Mrs. Kranstien, a white, middle-aged gossip who's part of Luz's mom's church group. Also known as the last person Luz wanted to find out that she's bisexual.

"Uh, bilingual," Luz brushed it off, seeming like she isn't panicking right now. Which she is. "Significa que hablo dos idiomas. What else could I mean?"

"Well, you don't have to be so rude about it," Mrs. Kranstien harrumphed, "It is not becoming of a young lady."

"Y no tienes que meter la nariz donde no pertenece," Luz shrugged, "Pero, ¿quién soy yo para juzgar?"

"...What does that mean?"

"It means you're absolutely right, and I am so sorry for being so rude," Luz turned on her heel and kept walking, "Adios, gringa!"

"Is 'gringa' a compliment!" Mrs. Kranstien called out as Luz walked away.

"Sure is! Make sure to say it to your friends when you have the chance!"

Ok, maybe she is a little bit of a prick.

Luz’s indecision

"Should I do this?"

Luz gently rubbed the blade of the knife.

"...Yeah. Yeah, I definitely should."

She lowered the blade over a thread sewn in but stopped a tenth of a millimeter away from it.

"But it's not even noticeable."

Luz raised the knife away.

"Although Blight did notice it."

And lowered it back down again.

"But that's because she was wearing it. It's not like mom could ever wear this."

"But what if it's laundry day and she takes the jacket without you knowing?"

"I mean, that could happen, but she would have to actively search for it."

"Is that really worth the risk, though?"

Luz started twirling the knife in her fingers at this point. The bi flag still remained intact, with not a single thread being taken out. Most days, Luz would barely notice it, and she's the one who always wears her jacket. Now, more than ever, the bright colors of the flag seemed incredibly noticeable.

"No," Luz shook her head, "It's not worth the risk."

She lowered the knife again and even got the blade under a thread. But before she could do anything remotely similar to removing the string, she hesitated. Again.

"...But it's also who I am," Luz sighed, pocketing her knife and putting the jacket back on.

"It's a part of me," Luz lightly beat the back of her head against the wall, "Taking it off isn't going to change anything, and it especially won't make me any less bi."

Chapter 3

Nerds being nerds

Amity nearly spat out her slushie.

"You read The Good Witch Azura?" Luz rolled her eyes at the question.

"Alright, listen," she started, "Before you make fun of me for it, you should know--"

"I love Azura."

"--It's not the cutesy kids' book that people think...it...is..." Luz looked shocked as she faced Amity's wide grin, "What did you just say?"

"It was my favorite book series growing up," Amity explained, "It still is, today."

"...No shit."

"Yeah! In fact, when I was nine, I wished I could have been just like Azura herself."

"Same!" Luz's smile became just as wide, "The grand adventures? The ability to just get along with everybody she meets? That was the shit for when I just a little tater tot."

"For me, it was how powerful her magic is," Amity confessed, "I could only dream of being as talented as she is."

Chapter 4

Snowball fight

And that's when something cold hit her in the back of the head.

Turning around to find the culprit, Amity saw none other than Luz hiding her laughter behind a hand.

"Did you just do what I think you did?!" Amity asked incredulously.

"Hey, we may be cool now...but I'm gonna take a shot when I see it. Alright?"

Amity glared at that, drawing a spell circle soon after. At the circle's completion, two dozen snowballs began to rise in the air around them, and Luz's face became pale to the sight.

"...On second thought," Luz nervously smiled as she raised her hands in surrender, "Parlay?"

"..."

Amity pointed her finger at Luz, and all of the snowballs immediately knocked the human onto her back.

"I don't think so," Amity quipped, walking over and offering a hand to her friend.

“Drug” deal

"Is that a bad thing?"

"...Eh, probably not," Luz shrugged, "I got the goods in my backpack, by the way. You want me to give it to you now, or wait until after school?"

"t sounds like you have drugs in your backpack with the way you said that."

"Who says that I don't?"

Amity let out a light laugh. Luz didn't even seem shocked anymore.

"I'll wait until after school," Amity said when they got to the double doors, "The last thing I need is the wrong person to find out that I like...you know what."

"Got it," Luz nodded only to then lean closer to whisper, "I'll see then for the transfer. And if you get caught, I was never there."

"Ok, now I got to ask: Are you actually planning to give me drugs after school."

"Of course not!"

Luz winked.

"Drugs are bad, especially for our age."

She winked again.

"I wouldn't ever dream of doing something so vile."

And again.

"...I hate you."

"What else is new?"

"Just give me the book after school, doofus!" Amity said between chuckles.

"Yes. Of course. 'The book.'"

Luz winked for the fourth time, and Amity just pulled the human's beanie over her face in response. The two then laughed as they went their separate ways.

Amity’s jealousy

"Hey, is it ok if I ask you a favor?"

"Depends," Luz blew into her hands for extra warmth, "What's the favor?"

"Well...Skara invited me to a party she's throwing next Friday. And I was wondering if you could come with me."

"Which one is Skara again," Luz asked, "I know she's one of Boscha's lackeys, but I can't remember. Is she the tall and skinny one, the small and cute one, or the hot yet nerdy looking one?"

If she wasn't wearing gloves right now, Amity would wager that her knuckles went white with how tightly her hands gripped the steering wheel.

"You think Cat is hot?"

"Eh. Objectively, yeah," Luz shrugged, "Also, I didn't know her name was Cat. Should probably make a note of that."

"She also has a boyfriend," Amity said a little too quick, "And she's straight as a board. So go ahead and...unnote that. Just take that note and...throw it in a river somewhere."

"...Ok? Weirdo."

"Anyways, Skara is the short and--" Amity steeled herself before saying, "Cute one."

Luz helping Skara

She eventually found herself in a hall that led to bedrooms, only to see Skara sprinting around and picking up discarded beer cans and red solo cups and tossing them into a trash bag. She then opened a random door, squeaked, and slammed it shut, leaning against it while pressing her palms into her eyes.

"Why do that in my parents' bedroom!?" she cried to no one in particular.

Usually, Luz wouldn't give a shit about any of Boscha's lackeys. And yet, something compelled her to walk over.

"Are they making out or doing something worse," she asked, which caused Skara to look up in surprise.

"...What...What are you doing here?"

"Don't question it," Luz nodded to the door, "In there. Are they just making out?"

"...Yes, but it's still--"

Luz pounded on the door, making Skara jump.

"Hey!" she shouted, "That's not your bed, assholes! If you want privacy, then go to the back of your car like decent human beings!"

"We're not humans!"

"Not the point!"

For a while, nothing happened. Then finally, two boys walked out of the room, hand in hand with their clothes ruffled, and started shuffling their way down the hall. Skara just stood where she was, not knowing what to say or do.

"Hey," Luz snapped her fingers to get Skara's attention, "If a person starts acting like a prick, be an even bigger prick. Someone's going to eventually back down, so don't let it be you. They'll get the point, then. Oh, and by the way..."

She pulled the photo out of her jacket's pocket and tossed it to Skara, who then fumbled with the thing before catching it.

"Someone tried to steal that," Luz told her, "I don't know where it belongs so, there you go."

Luz then began to head in the direction of the stairs.

"Thank you."

The broken tone of voice made Luz freeze for a second, turning over her shoulder to see Skara looking at the human, her eyes full of gratitude and amazement.

"...Don't mention it," was all Luz said before walking down the hall to find the stairs.

Literally, everything that Drunk Amity does. But here’s the top five:

#5-Snuggle time

"I hate my life," Luz muttered, shuffling over. She pulled the covers up and slowly got into the bed. But once she did, Amity didn't waste a second wrapping her entire body around Luz's. Like a koala bear, clinging to a tree.

"...Do you mind?" Luz's voice cracked.

"What? I'm sleeping on my side."

"Yeah, but I'd prefer it if you slept on a side that wouldn't result in me getting puked on."

"But how will we snuggle?"

"Oh my god," Luz sighed, "You're not gonna back down from this, are you?"

"Mm-mm."

"...tell you what. If you flip onto your other side, I'll--I can't believe I'm saying this--I'll...spoon...you."

Amity gasped, her eyes practically glittering with stars as she looked up at Luz.

"That's even better," she whispered, untangling herself from Luz's body so she can flip onto her other side, already getting into a position to receive comfort. Luz, slowly and reluctantly, turned over to wrap an arm around Amity, pressing their bodies together.

'This is probably punishment for...every shitty thing I've done in my life," she thought to herself.

#4-Drink it!

"Drink it!"

"No!"

"Drink it."

"No!"

"Drink it!"

"Noooo!" Amity flopped face down onto her pillow as if she was a five-year-old. The bunny-print pajamas that Luz changed her into didn't help, either (it was the minor victories). With one hand, Luz started messaging her temple out of annoyance, while the other hand gripped tight onto a glass of water.

"Amity, if you're gonna lay down like a baby, then lay on your side," she explained, "If you face down, or up, then you'll just drown in your own vomit. And is that how you wanna go out?"

Amity flipped onto her side with a harrumph.

"That's what I thought," Luz held the glass up to Amity again, "Now drink this water."

"I don't wanna," the witch wined, "It doesn't have flavor. It's boring. Give something less boring."

#3-Amity’s love for Emira

"Who are you talking to?"

"Your sister."

"Oh! Hey, Luz," Amity started tapping Luz on the shoulder, "Luz, Luz, Luz, Luz--"

"What?"

"Tell her--Listen--Tell...Emira that she is the worst...and that I don't like her. It's an--Look--It's an inside joke between us. She'll understand it when you tell her."

"...Will do."

"Oh! And Luz,"

"What?" This time, Luz was starting to get aggravated.

"Emira--Don't tell her this part--But Emira is, like, the most important person to me. And Ed too. Sometimes. Because they've both always been there for me when our parents are being bigger dicks than they are. I just don't--Hey--I don't tell them that because then they'll make fun of me for it. So don't-- Shh! Don't tell her."

"...You got all that, right?" Luz asked into the scroll.

"Sure did. What the hell did she drink?"

#2-Tossing cookies

Amity's face suddenly paled. Luz couldn't figure what was wrong at first, at least until she saw Amity lurch.

"Oh, shit," Luz then guided Amity over to the nearest potted plant, "Shit shit shit shit--"

Once at the plant, Amity bent over and...lost her lunch.

"...Are you o--"

And then her breakfast.

"...Are--"

And finally tossed one last cookie for good measure.

"...You good?"

"Yeah," Amity looked up at her victim, which was already starting to wilt, "...This my mom's favorite plant..."

She then slapped it.

"Fuck you, plant!"

And #1...

The good news is that Luz finally found her.

The bad news is that Amity was standing on top of a table as everyone stared at her.

"I am the lesbian queen of the universe!" she shouted, "Y'all can bow down and kiss my ass!"

"Get it, girl!"

"You bet I'll get it, whoever you are! Seriously, who said that?" she called back, turning in a circle to find the source of the voice. However, because of Amity's drunken state, she soon tripped on her own feet and fell off the table. Luckily, Luz was quick to realize that wearing heels and being drunk was a bad combination, so she had already run over to the table, ready to catch Amity.

The green-haired witch landed in Luz's arms, bridal princess style. Luz then set her down, but Amity still wrapped her arms around the human's neck.

"You're my hero," Amity said wistfully.

"Yeah, I'm a real knight in shining--" But Luz didn't get a chance to finish her snarky remark. Because Amity leaned in to plant a wet, sloppy kiss onto Luz's cheek. This caused the human to go still and red-faced, her brain ceasing to function as Amity pulled away with a Mwah!

And on the topic of kisses

Luz remained still for a minute or two, ultimately thinking 'screw it,' and kissed Amity's cheek. It was about a millisecond, maybe even half of that, but it did not stop Luz's face from heating up.

"There. Happy now?"

"Nope," Amity faced Luz with a drunken smile, "Because now it's my turn."

"Wait, no- Mmph!" But it was too late. Because the second after Amity spoke, she leaned in to kiss Luz's cheek, giving Luz no time to even turn her head. Which resulted in Amity giving Luz another wet and sloppy kiss, not on her cheek, but right on her lips.

And perhaps it was just as long as Luz's kiss. Probably even a second longer. But for her, it felt as though time had come to a standstill as Amity's lips were pressed against Luz's. But regardless, Luz didn't pull away. She didn't even shove Amity off, despite having every reason to. In fact, when Amity finally pulled away from the kiss, Luz had this strange desire buried deep within her brain, yet she was still aware of it.

Because despite how weird it would be and how Amity's breath will absolutely taste awful, Luz felt a strange desire to kiss her friend again.

Chapter 6

The morning after

Curious, Amity looked over her shoulder to see the culprit.

'Oh, it's just Luz," she thought, slowly turning back over.

...

Amity's eyes popped open.

She whipped her head back to look over her shoulder, which was a mistake because the sudden rush made her hangover say, 'screw you,' and leave Amity with a ton of pain. Once it slowly wore off (or, at least, became a bit more bearable), Amity got a good look at the person behind her. And what she saw both warmed her heart, as well as stopped it.

Luz. Sleeping in Amity's bed. Pressed up against the witch and peacefully smiling as she dreamed.

This left a myriad of thoughts in Amity's head.

'Luz is in my bed.'

'Luz is in my bed, and she's spooning me.'

'...I need to wake her.'

But just as she was about to wake her friend, Luz, in her sleep, then shuffled herself further against Amity. Her sleepy smile had grown wider.

'...And I am dead. I am dead, have ascended the stars, and this now my life for eternity.'

Huge misunderstanding

Luz remained still, glancing between Amity's eyes and her lips. Ultimately, she closed the distance between them and kissed her.

And kissed her again.

And again.

It felt so amazing, with each kiss sending a wave of euphoric energy through Luz's body. It was everything she didn't know she wanted.

"Luz?" Amity gasped.

"Hm?"

"Are you awake right now?"

"Mm-hm," Luz mumbled as she continued to kiss Amity's sweet, soft, hairy--

'Hairy?'

***

Luz peaked open her eyes, and instead of seeing Amity's face, all she saw was bright green. Remembering where she was, Luz's eyes became wide once she took in the fact of what she just did.

"mmBAAAAAAAH!" Luz shrieked, pushing herself to the other end of the bed. Unfortunately, she pushed a little too far and ended up falling off the bed entirely, face-planting onto the floor.

Luz’s hairball

It was Luz's turn to get up as she walked over to the pile of her clothes on the desk.

"Just let me change first and--" She coughed, "--And I--"

Suddenly Luz was coughing severely, her face going red from lack of air.

"Luz?"

"What's wrong?!"

While coughing, Luz pointed at her throat.

"She's choking!" Viney deduced, "Hang on, I got this!"

She ran over and went behind Luz. Placing the thumb side of her fist over the human's abdomen and placing a hand over said fist, Viney began performing the Heimlich maneuver. After a few thrusts, Luz finally coughed out what was obstructing her throat. Once she could breathe again, she got a look at what nearly killed her. Only to see a clump of wet, green hair on the floor.

"...Is that--"

"Anyways, I'm gonna go ahead and change!" Luz squeaked quickly, grabbing her clothes off the desk and dashing into the closet. Viney and Emira looked over at Amity, who, red as a tomato, pulled the covers over her head.

Amity explaining why she likes Luz...which goes on for a good chunk of the chapter and it would be ludicrous for me to paste it onto here. But trust me. It’s a great moment

Chapter 7

Pastor Benson’s sermon and Luz’s prayor

"I think I can speak for all of us when I say that the world is constantly changing," Pastor Benson began his sermon. "For every day, new lifestyles and ways of loving others are introduced and integrated into our society. Just the other day, I was given a chance to experience this first hand."

That caught Luz's interest for a moment.

"You see, my nephew gathered the whole family, everybody that he trusted, and did something none of us could have ever expected. He told us all that he was a homosexual."

Immediately everybody started murmuring with each other. And Luz had to admit, she was more than curious to see where Benson was going with this.

"I know, I know," he silenced the crowd, "I was surprised too. And as he continued, both he and his boyfriend, which was another shock to find out, started telling us all about what it means to be what they are. They explained what they considered the basics, answered questions, and soon enough, Micheal's parents stood up to give him a hug, and everyone else took turns letting him know that he is loved."

Now Luz was really interested.

"Later, I took Micheal aside so I can have a heart to heart with him," Pastor Benson pressed on, "I said to him that he is my nephew and that I will always love him. And no matter what, God will love him too, like all of his children."

For the first time in her life, Luz hung onto every word that a pastor said.

"But sin is still a sin, and I said that it's not too late to save his soul."

'There it is,' Luz thought, slumping into her seat and hoping that her mom didn't notice her reaction. Pastor Benson continued his sermon, but Luz mentally checked out, not caring about what he has to say next. It didn't matter if Benson told the secrets to the universe or the meaning of life. Because of what he said, Luz tuned him out for the next few minutes, stirring in a pissed-off mood she genuinely tried to keep out of church.

"--Now, I would ask you all to join me in prayer before we bring this congregation to a close," Luz heard Pastor Benson say fifteen minutes later. Everyone then simultaneously lowered their heads to pray, with Luz right along with them.

'Dear God,' she prayed, 'If you could be so kind, could you send down an angel or your son or something to tell all these homophobes that being gay isn't a sin. And the only reason why people think that's true is that some dickhead mistranslated a line somewhere. A translation, by the way, that was meant to tell people that pedophilia is awful. Something that some of your own pastors should learn from time to time.

'Because if you could send someone down to get the record straight, I, and many others, would really appreciate it...also sorry for swearing while during prayer. That wasn't cool of me. Bless my mom, and praise be to you.'

Camila and Claire

"If you ask me, that was crossing way over the line."

Camila looked over to her friend Claire, who stood with her as they waited in line at a makeshift buffet table to grab breakfast.

"Are you talking about Pastor Benson or his nephew?" Camila couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, absolutely, it's Benson," Claire whispered so as not to draw attention amongst the chatter, "I mean, here you have a kid who was in a safe space and just wanted to be accepted, only to have your uncle basically say you're going to hell. The man might as well have punched poor Micheal in the gut."

"Aye, I am so happy that you said that," Camila grabbed two plates for herself and Luz, who sat at a table for them. "I understand that he's a person of the lord, but that's taking belief a little too far. I believe in God, and I love him with my whole heart, but I would never say anything like that to Luz. If she was gay, that is."

"I'm right there with you," Claire nodded as she piled food onto her own two plates, "I have five kids. Two of them moved out with relationships of their own. But if my other three ever come to me and say that they're gay, then the last thing I'd do is make them feel ashamed of it."

"Right? I always make it clear to Luz that she can tell me anything. Especially if it's something like that."

Mrs. Kranstien calling Camila a gringa

"As I said, keep an eye on her. For both of your sakes," the gossiper said as she turned to walk in her own direction, "Adios, gringa."

Camila did a double-take.

'Did she just...No,' she shook her head, 'No. She couldn't have.'

Amity’s reaction

"...So we're just going to be spending some time waiting...alone...in a big house with nobody else around?"

"...Basically, yeah," Luz shrugged, "See you then. Oh! By the way, and I know it goes without saying, but try to do something that hides those ears. Because the last thing I need to do is explain why my new friend looks like an elf from Lord of the Rings."

With that, Luz hung up, leaving Amity to sit still as a statue at her desk. Eventually, she slowly dragged her diary over, picked up a pencil, and began to calmly write.

So Luz, literally right now, just asked me to come over to hang out at her house, completely unsupervised, as we wait to have dinner with her mom. Current mood: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Chapter 8

Boscha’s rage

"You little jackass!"

Luz turned away from her locker to see Boscha stomping over. It was the end of the school day, and Luz was already beyond stressed about having Amity over to her house. The last thing that anyone needs, least of all her, is to deal with Boscha's bullshit.

"Little?" Luz said with an annoyed tilt to her head. "Bitch, I am absolutely taller than you!"

"Not the point!" Boscha yelled once she finally got up to Luz, "Because here's the thing: You draw on my face, I'll be annoyed. You rip my scroll in half, I'll be pissed off. But make people think I have a crush on FUCKING, Matt!? That is something I should kill you for!"

"...I didn't draw on your face."

"YOU--" But Boscha stopped herself to take a deep, calming breath before looking back at Luz with murder in her eyes, "That slimy, greasy, weasely little weasel has been hitting on me ALL DAY! And it's all because of you posting on social media that I like him. I mean, what the FUCK did I do to deserve that?!"

"...Do you really want me to answer that?"

Misunderstanding

"Hey."

Hesitantly, Amity glanced over at Luz again. Who had put her full attention into the girl in front of her.

"Do you wanna make out?"

"WHAT?!"

Luz jumped at Amity's screech.

"...I said, ‘do you want take out?’" she repeated, lifting up her phone, "My mom just said she's going to be a while and isn't in a cooking mood. So she wants to know if you're cool if she picks up some chimichurri sandwiches on the way home."

"Oh. Oh! Yeah, that's fine," Amity could feel her face grow hotter by the second.

"Ok?" Luz texted a reply to her mom, "...What did you think I said, anyway?"

"..."

"It must have been something bad to make you react as if I called you the c-word."

"...So this movie is interesting!" Suddenly, all Amity's attention went to the tee-vee, "My favorite character would have to be that, uh, that girl with the...dyed hair and...giant hammer--What did you say this movie is called again?"

Luz opened her mouth to say something, but a small ping! from her phone distracted her for a bit.

"My mom wants to know if you have any allergies," she said.

"I do not."

"Got it," Luz sent her reply, "Now, as for what you thought I said--"

"Table it for later."

'So I can have time to think of a proper excuse.'

"...Alright."

Luz went back to watching the movie for another minute, looked at her wrist for some reason, and then stared right back at Amity.

"It's now later."

"Luz--"

"Look, if it's something embarrassing, don't worry about it," Luz waved off her friend's concern, "Your brain just misinterpreted what I said. It's no big deal. I'm just wondering what you thought I asked that got you all hot and bothered."

'She called me hot--FOCUS!'

"You really won't judge?" Amity asked for clarification.

"Can't be any more embarrassing than what I did on Saturday."

'I guess that's true.'

"Well," Amity nervously fiddled with the hem of her dress, "I thought that...that you asked if...I wanted to...make...out..."

She glanced over, and, sure enough, a blush was beginning to form on Luz's cheeks.

"...Oh," the human said.

"But it's like you said!" Amity quickly exclaimed, "My brain just misinterpreted the words! It's not like you would ever ask me to do that, right?"

"...Of course not."

"...You hesitated?"

"Hm?"

"I said that you would never ask me to do that, and you hesitated when saying no. Why did you hesitate?"

"I didn't hesitate."

"Yes, you did."

"Pretty sure I didn't."

"Well, I'm definitely sure that you did."

"Well, if I did, then that's because, um..."

"...Because, um, what?"

"..."

"...So this movie, huh?" Luz looked back at the screen, "It's, uh, Scott Pilgrim, by the way. Just to answer your question...from earlier...about what movie this is..."

And thus came the thickest, most awkward silence between them. Understandably enough, Luz now had no problems with sitting as far away from Amity as possible.

"...How long until your mom gets home, again?"

"Should be another two hours."

"Damn it."

"Yeah."

Baby pictures

"Actually, I do have a photo of that day in an album somewhere," Camila added, "I could go find it and prove to you how innocent Luz was."

Now Luz's face went pale as Amity's brightened with glee.

"No, she doesn't!"

"Yes, I do!"

The poor human glared at the rich girl.

"No. You don't."

"Yes. I do."

"Right then," Camila finished her sandwich and got out of her seat, "You two sit tight. I'm going to go find that album."

Once her mother was out of the room, Luz scooched over to Amity with murder in her eyes.

"I would like to point out that you still owe me, like, five more favors from what happened last Friday," she whispered-growled, "So I would like to cash in one of them for you to not look at my baby pictures."

"And I would like to point out that you saw me at my lowest last Friday," Amity said with a smarmy smile, "Which means I'm at least owed some middle ground."

"...I hate you."

"Sure you do."

Gravity Falls reference

'There's that weird feeling again,' she thought as a tingling sensation formed throughout her gut. It wasn't the first time that day when Luz felt this.

She felt it when seeing Amity's human ears, when Amity admitted that she always wanted to be friendly, and especially when Amity thought Luz wanted to make out.

'...Wait...do I--'

Luz shook her head.

"No, no, no no no," she said to herself, "There's no way. There's just no way! I'm sure this is just some...indirect way of Boscha's words getting to your brain."

Luz turned around to go back inside.

"By tomorrow, you'll laugh about how ridiculous a thought like that is."

At Midnight.

Ever since turning in at nine, Luz could not for the life of her go to sleep.

Why?

Because her head was filled with nothing but thoughts of golden eyes, wild green hair, and a smirk that became all the more attractive, the more she thought about it.

"...Goddammit."

Chapter 9

Skara’s advice

"In that case, as her best friend, I have to tell that she will destroy you."

"Whatever."

"And as her best friend, I probably shouldn't tell you to go for any of her weak spots."

"..." Luz shared a curious look with Gus and Willow, who shrugged. "What weak spots?"

"Well, as her best friend, I shouldn't tell you that Boscha suffered a lot of injuries from playing grudgby," Skara explained, "Like the fact that her right arm hasn't healed right and she prefers punching with her left. Or the fact that she's still recovering from breaking her left leg and that if you kick the back of it hard enough, she'll crumble."

"...It's too bad that you didn't say any of that," Luz played along, "Because that would all be incredibly useful. And I would have to ask why you would tell me that in the first place."

"Hypothetically speaking, if I did tell you all of that--which I didn't--it would probably be because I'm still a little mad that she destroyed my house for the sake of getting Amity back. And that I'm just as sick as you are that Boscha wastes so much time trying to win back a girl that is clearly not interested."

"In that case, I really hate that you didn't tell me any of that stuff. Because then I would have thanked you for the advice."

"And I would have said, 'You're welcome,'" Skara looked left, right, and hugged Luz for a fraction of a second to then scamper off to who knows where.

The first hit

"Uh-huh...I don't know what that means, so here's a question: What happens when I break that oath?"

"Oh, trust me, you won't break it. Now, are you ready to eat dirt, human?"

"Born ready," Luz said, regaining her confidence, "In fact, you can have the first punch."

Boscha raised an eyebrow.

"Really? You sure you want that?"

"Of course. That is unless you're too scared of breaking a nail--"

SMACK!

The entire stadium went 'Ooooh,' due to Boscha sucker-punching Luz so hard that the human immediately went down and into the dirt. Needless to say, Luz was very much awake now.

"JESUS CHRIST!" She shouted as she slowly stood up, nursing the now bruising cheek that Boscha hit. "What the shit do they feed you rich girls?! Also, what happened to no hitting the face?! That was my face! You said no hitting the face!"

"Oh, no, I meant my face," Boscha reiterated, "My face is off-limits. Yours is free real estate."

Adrenaline rush

While Boscha was distracted by that, Luz looked over at her own friends.

Willow scowled with her fists clenched, looking like she was about ready to jump in to kick Boscha's ass for Luz.

Gus was cheering for Luz to get up. At least, she thinks that's what he was doing. A sudden ringing in Luz's ear currently made it hard to decipher what anybody was saying if they weren't close enough.

And then there was Amity, who held Luz's jacket tight to her heart, eyes wide and complexion pale.

That's when it hit Luz: If she loses, she'll be forced by some magic bullshit to never see Amity again. All these weeks of getting close and building...whatever the hell their relationship is building towards would have been for nothing. Worse yet, Amity will be left with Boscha, who would treat the green-haired witch with as much dignity and respect as Boscha treats her friends.

It was the mix of fear and anger from that thought that gave Luz just enough adrenaline she needed to turn towards Boscha and kicked her hard in the left leg.

Goodnight

"Cool. Hey, mom?"

"Yes, mija?"

"If a person asks you to have lunch with them, just the two of you, what would you think that means?"

"I assume that means a person wants to date you."

"Cool. Anyways, I'm gonna go to bed now. Goodnight."

"You’re what?"

THWUMP!

Startled by the noise, Camila turned around to see that Luz had fallen face-first onto the living room floor.

"...Luz?"

"Hm?" Luz mumbled.

"Are you ok?"

"Mm-hm."

Chapter 10

Earmuffs

"Hi, Luz! Question: Me being a male cheerleader. Yay or nay?"

"I think it's absolutely a 'yay,' but we can talk about that later," Luz said as she sat down, "For right now: Earmuffs."

"Aw, what?" Gus whined, "C'mon!"

"No complaining. Earmuffs."

"But I'm younger than you two by two years. I can totally handle grown-up talk."

"Earmuffs!"

Gus groaned, reluctantly covering his ears, closing his eyes, and humming to himself to further block out any noise.

Assumptions

"I don't give a shit that you're dating her." Willow said plainly.

"You see--Wha-wha-wha-wha-What? What? I'm sorry, what? Just...Fucking what?!" Luz exclaimed, completely caught off guard.

"Hey, don't get me wrong," Willow continued, "I would much rather see you date almost anybody else in this school. But if--for whatever reason--Amity is the person you really want to be with, I won't say anything about it. The heart wants what the heart wants. Who am I to judge?"

"...We're not dating."

Willow blinked.

"You're not?"

"No."

"...You're not?!"

Spray Bottle

Then suddenly, bits of water started spritzing onto her face. Looking over, Amity saw that it was because Viney was using a spray bottle on her.

"Bad," she said between spritzes, "Bad Blight."

"What the hell?!" Amity hissed, "Why do you even have that?!"

"I take Beast Keeping," Viney explained as she pocketed her spray bottle, "It comes in handy, so I just keep it on me at all times. Now, back to your dumbassery..."

"Hey, try to look at this from my point of view, alright?" the younger witch growled, "You never had to deal with Luz and her dumb smirk or her...cute round ears and those...those gorgeous brown eyes that are so warm and soft and make you feel all ooey-gooey like a warm chocolate cookie and--"

Viney started spritzing Amity again.

"GAH! Sorry," Amity said, snapping out of it.

And that’s about it. Thank you all so much for reading this story for this long, and a very special thank you to @drabbles-of-writing for letting me write this story in the first place. Now if you don’t excuse me, I’ve got school shit to work on.

#the owl house #beta lumity #it all started with a jacket #cw: swearing

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ruewrites · 4 years ago

Text

On the Road

AO3

Ship: Solomon/Asmodeus

Word Count: 2201

Warnings: None

A/N: Day 2 of Solodeus Week! I decided to do Road Trip this time around as I've done some requests surrounding cooking (not that I mind writing about Solomon's interesting culinary skills). Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!

Asmo played with the radio dial, switching it back and forth. Sometimes he hit static, talk shows, but he hadn't found a song he liked yet. Solomon's little old car was packed with their things and Asmo wondered from time to time if he could actually see out of the back, but at this point he was too afraid to ask.

Solomon's car was a rickety old thing that had Asmo concerned on more than one occasion. Honestly, he was surprised that it had made it this far on the trip. Solomon could afford a nicer one, Asmo knew he could, but Solomon stated that this one had "character" whatever that meant. If it meant "will probably leave us abandoned on the side of the road one day" Asmo could see himself agreeing. But when push came to shove, it did work well enough to take them on a little road trip. Taking them back would be another story.

"I meant to ask earlier," one of Solomon's hands rested outside the window as the other stayed steadfast on the wheel, "Is that a new skirt?"

Oh, so he had been attentive. Asmo had been wondering when he'd ask. His only kement right now was that he couldn't stand up and show off. He had half a mind to make Solomon pull over so he could show off.

The last road trip he’d been on was meant to serve as a retreat in the human world. That also meant that Asmo hadn’t gotten any alone time with Solomon. Yes, shenanigans had played a rather significant role, but Lucifer had his eyes on them like a hawk. Anything that Asmo had brought to show off his legs had mysteriously disappeared until the end of the retreat. Not to mention, Lucifer had tactically placed himself between the two of them whenever he deemed them as being “too close”. No one else noticed, but Asmo certainly had. He loved his brothers, he did, but Lucifer had been a little too protective for his tastes on that trip. He knew he wasn’t fond of Solomon, but really? He was a grown demon, he could care for himself.

But he didn’t have any annoying protective big brothers on this trip, just him and Solomon, and Solomon noticing his new clothes.

"It is," Asmo confirmed, moving his hand away from the dial, content with whatever was now softly playing in the background, "You should know that I picked out an entire wardrobe just for this little trip."

"It looks nice," Solomon's eyes glanced down to his thighs before returning to the road.

"I think I look a little more than nice thank you very much."

Solomon only chuckled in response. "Of course. Anyways we'll be coming up on our first stop soon."

"And you can take all sorts of pictures of me?"

"If that's what you wish."

Asmo grinned before looking down at his D.D.D. He'd taken a few pictures ready of him in the passenger seat for his Devilgram. Obviously most of his followers went crazy when he managed to post content of him and Solomon together. Asmodeus was attractive already, but having an insanely powerful and hot sorcerer as a boyfriend? Oh they ate it up. Of course there was the occasional jealous fan or ex popping up in his comment, but he didn't even need to lift a finger, everyone else would take care of them for him.

Soon gravel cracked underneath them and the car came to a stop. "Alright, this is our first stop," Solomon undid his seat belt and got out of the car. Asmo looked up from his phone and his nose scrunched up ever so slightly.

Solomon opened his door and he immediately voiced his thoughts, "Solomon, why is our first stop a giant pile of rocks?" Large slabs of stone laid toppled over and broken before him. Some were still upright and intact, but even those looked like they would crumple at any moment. Asmo could already imagine the dust clogging up his pours and sinuses the moment he stepped in there.

"It's not a pile of rocks," Solomon took Asmo's hand, helping him out of the car, "They're ruins. I've read about them before so I just had to mark it as one of our stops.”

Oh of course he had to go and fall for a nerd, but he was a hot nerd. A hot nerd who loved him more than anything. So he let Solomon take his hand as he led him into the ruins.

Many of their stops were akin to this one. Ancient artifacts, buildings long lost to time, old magic, so on and so on. Solomon had kept his promise, finding wonderful spots to take pictures of him for his Devilgram, and each new photo had all of his little darlings blowing up his phone. Even if Asmo wasn’t interested in the stops too much so far, he did adore Solomon’s dazzling smile. He got so excited, talking fast and gesturing as he explained every little thing to Asmo. Every now and again he’d even pull a book out from his bag and compare pictures to the real thing. His voice was full of life as he scribbled down little notes.

And so who was to judge him if he got a little doe-eyed gooey hearted every time he opened his mouth? What did they have any right to say a thing if he kissed his cheek and nuzzled into his side?

Even if he didn’t like these things, he liked Solomon, and spending time with Solomon was something he would always treasure.

Each night was different too. Some nights they slept in the car, some nights they found a nice hotel, sometimes a small motel that had Asmo concerned about bed bugs, but each time he got to spend a night by Solomon’s side. Some nights he was even able to coax Solomon into having a bit of fun if they were both in the mood, and other nights he was more than content to just doze off in his arms.

The food had also been interesting too. Asmo had always known the human world was diverse, but every few places they stopped seemed to have an entirely different pallet. The only downside would be that he had to fear for the future as Solomon discussed his plans to recreate certain meals when they got home.

Asmo would have to work double time to make sure that didn’t happen.

It was their seventh day on the road, when they made a rather special stop. Asmo hadn’t really been paying attention to where they were going, he was much more focused on flipping through the pictures he and Solomon had taken together while on the road. He was looking for a new lock screen, one he could flaunt. He had just found the perfect one when Solomon spoke up again.

“We’re here,” Solomon said as they came to yet another stop. He marked off something on his D.D.D. and turned the car off. He’d been keeping track of all the places they stopped at, striking them out when they arrived. Solomon had spent at least a month planning this trip from what Asmo knew, and he’d spent a lot of time thinking about where he wanted to go. However, he did sound a little more giddy about this one compared to the others.

This parking spot was a little more secluded. Trees, bushes, and vines surrounded them. Asmo kicked a few of the stones at his feet. Unlike the other stops, there didn’t seem to be anyone around. They’d pulled off the main roads to get onto a small dirt road, and the car was almost entirely hidden. “I think that you’ll enjoy this one. I’ve been here before and I always wanted to take you here.”

Asmo hesitated for a moment. This could either be an incredibly wonderful thing, or an incredibly terrible thing knowing his lover.

Solomon was standing in front of a deer path, holding his hand out for Asmo to take it, “Are you coming?”

Oh and that look in his eyes… That look was all it took.

Asmo wasn’t sure how long they’d been walking down the path. At one point Solomon had offered to carry him lest Asmo twist his ankle in his heels. Eventually Solomon muttered something under his breath and pulled back a curtain of vines, motioning for Asmo to go in first.

Asmo couldn’t stop the small gasp that left his lips.

Before his eyes was the most gorgeous oasis he had ever seen. Vibrant flora surrounded them as water tumbled down from a ledge and into a smooth rocky basin below. “When did you-?”

“I found it on one of my travels,” Solomon started, stripping off his shirt and tossing it to the ground below, “The moment I saw it, I knew I had to take you here, and what better convenience than to make it a stop on our trip?”

Asmo hadn’t even realized that both of his hands were covering his mouth. He couldn’t believe this. He had to be dreaming. He must have fallen asleep in the passenger’s seat when Solomon was driving. They were probably still on the road with the radio fighting with static in the background. Cold hands enveloped his own, bringing them to his bare chest.

“Don’t you want to get in?”

The water was a lot deeper than Asmo expected, coming up a little past his waist. He was careful not to get his hair wet. After all, Solomon had told him that they’d most likely end up sleeping in the car tonight, unless they could find something on their way. Solomon threaded their fingers together, his free hand wandered up Asmo’s waist.

“This is why I was so excited to bring you on this trip,” his eyes sparkled even more than when he was gushing over the ruins, “All I could think about was how much you’d love it here when I first found it.”

He leaned in closer, brushing his lips against Asmo’s.

If there was one thing that made this place even better, it was having Solomon in front of him looking nothing short of perfection. From each lean muscle, glistening with water, his perfect v-line, all the way to his pact marks twisting and turning all over his body. Of course, Asmo’s eyes were always drawn to his own pact mark, and he couldn’t help but lean in and press his lips against it.

“I love it,” Asmo murmured against his skin, “I love it so much Solomon. Thank you.”

They stayed like this as they slowly sunk down into the water.

***

The occasional car lit up the highway as they drove on. Asmo had stolen one of Solomon’s sweatshirts from the back to stay warm. His hair was still damp, and fresh curls had slowly started to take from. Solomon was humming softly along with the radio, fingers tapping on the wheel as he did so. He’d allowed his bangs to be pinned back as his hair dried, and if that wasn’t a wonderful sight Asmo didn’t know what was. He snuggled deeper into the hoodie, a sleepy smile stretching over his face.

“Pull over at the next exit,” Asmo murmured, his fingers moving over to rest on Solomon’s thigh.

“I can drive a little longer.”

“I know, but I want to fall asleep with you.” Asmo was trying to fight sleep, but he was slowly succumbing. His beauty routine be damned, he wanted to find some way to cuddle in the backseat. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but he could have Solomon’s warmth next to him.

He could see Solomon’s face light up a little as another car passed them by. Oh he was so beautiful.

Without another word, Solomon pulled off on the next exit until he came to a place where he could comfortably part for the night. There wasn't an inn or a motel in sight, and that was okay. Situating themselves in the back came with a few curses and giggles and everything in between. After what seemed like hours, they finally became situated, pillows and blankets and all. Their fingers were threaded together, and grey eyes staring adoringly at him.

Screw it.

Sleep could wait.

No brothers.

No angels.

No one to bother them.

What could he say? Asmo was an opportunist, and it wasn’t like they needed to be anywhere early tomorrow.

With a giggle, Asmo was yanking a rather surprised Solomon on top of him. He wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted as he was planting kisses on his boyfriend’s face as Solomon struggled with finding places to put his limbs, but it didn’t matter.

Asmo always felt like his most authentic self when he was with Solomon. He couldn’t think of anyone else in which he’d been a giggling mess of tangled limbs. He was Asmo’s other half, and he counted and saved every moment they shared together.

He was going to cherish this trip.

They had days ahead of them, and Asmo wanted to make it memorable.

#ruewrites #SolodeusWeek2021 #solodeus #obey me #obey me solomon #obey me asmodeus #asmosolo #soloasmo #asmodeus x solomon #SolodeusWeek

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jebazzled · 4 years ago

Text

it ain’t your muse! (shut up & write, ft. rihanna)

You nerds are always talking about your muse. My muse this, my muse that, I have no muse, my muse went the way of the dinosaurs, if my muse comes out of its burrow and sees its shadow I won’t be able to write for six weeks.

Shut up about your fucking muse!

It is true that you might go through periods where it is hard to find time and energy to write, or negative experiences in a writing community might leave you with anxiety surrounding writing. But by and large, writers block is something you can overcome!

Please, for the love of god, let me help you.

Writing is a muscle, and you’ve got to exercise it if you don’t want it to atrophy.

This tutorial is a bit of tough love about y’all and y’all’s diddly-darn muses, and some advice for snapping yourself out of it!

So here’s the thing about writing, my loves. You have to actually do it.

TERRIBLY inconvenient, I know.

I’m not here to tell you how to manage your work-life balance or how to manage your time. If you’re not writing much because you straight up don’t have time to write much, my advice is simple: pare down on your characters, focus on the plots that matter most to you, and spend some mental health juice on reminding yourself that there isn’t an RP Prom Queen, and even if there were, it’s better not to live or die by that bizarro crown.

But if you’re having trouble writing because of Your Muse... I’m cracking my knuckles.

We’ve all written with folks before - or been that folk before - who need a very specific set of circumstances if they’re going to write: they need time to Pinterest, need to listen to a specific playlist, need to get in the mindset, need the thread to scratch a very specific itch and need all of it to come together before the moon passes out of a waxing gibbous. As a fellow dev ho, I understand the appeal of writing to suit a mood, of vibing to a playlist, of prioritizing the stuff you’re going fucking feral for, of having the stars align while you do the thing. But if you’re like this when you’re writing for other people -

well, you’re making things difficult for both you and your writing partners! We can’t control the external constraints on our time, e.g. work and school, and we can’t always control the nonsense our psychology spins to keep us from writing. But some things are within our control, and by god, if there is any control to be had in the year of Mother Sappho 2021, don’t you want it?

At least some of your writers block is probably dumb as hell. So let’s beat the shit out of that part.

Anyway, if you’re yakking on and on about how your muse demands a bottle of red wine and a scented candle and fairy lights and soft socks and the blood of the servant, willfully given in order to spit out 200 words, or whatever...

it’s not that fucking deep.

Writing is a muscle. It’s like any other muscle: you need to exercise it.

If you’re training for a 5k, you don’t sit on your couch listening to “Eye of the Tiger” until race day. You get your ass off the cushion and pound the pavement. You probably start by alternating walks with short bursts of running. You probably don’t work your way up to actually running 5k at a time for a few weeks. And once you’ve run that first 5k, you don’t go sit on your couch to listen to “Eye of the Tiger” until the next race. You keep running to stay in shape for the next race.

Writing is like that.

What you write does not have to be perfect.

You can work on the post for six weeks and there will still be things you could change. You know what change your writing partner would have appreciated most? If you’d posted it for them three weeks ago. Don’t let perfect be the enemy of good.

Cut yourself the same slack you cut for your writing partners. Do you yearn to keelhaul them if their reply isn’t worth a National Book Award? No, because you’re not an asshole. They’re also not an asshole. Everyone is reasonable here. Write something that responds to what they gave you and that gives them something to work with. Not every single post has to be capital-I Inspired. ✨

What you write does not have to be a vibe ready for the Goop newsletter.

I was a creative writing major in college, and I was always having to turn stuff in for class that wasn’t exactly what I wanted to work on: a short story set in another country when I just wanted to write a play with puppets, an essay about food when I would rather write one about a weekend drive, etc.

Sometimes, you write what you write when you write it not because it’s getting you hot and bothered but because you’ve owed a reply for A While and you feel bad about keeping someone waiting. It will still be fun, because you chose to do that thread with your character and someone else’s character for a reason, and that reason stands, even if your monkey brain is yearning to play with that slime that makes fart noises when you put it away.

(Pro tip, here: don’t do threads you don’t actually have any interest in writing! It is less awkward to tell someone, “I am not interested in my character weed whacking your character’s lawn” than to waste their time with 10 posts of it before telling them, “I am not interested in my character weed whacking your character’s lawn.”)

The more you write, the easier it is.

Let’s talk about running again. A couple of years ago, I went on a bit of a kick with the running. I ran at least three times a week. I would bring my running shit with me to work so I could run in the park near my office. I would make running dates with friends. I would reward myself with a bagel from my favorite cafe if I did a run. And you know what? Once I got myself past the hurdle of pulling on my running clothes and lacing up my shoes, I enjoyed myself. When I ran 5k without slowing to a walk, I was proud of myself. When I told myself, “let’s do another loop at the park!” and stopped to take a photo of the sunset, I enjoyed myself. I would not have enjoyed myself if I hadn’t hit the goddamn pavement.

Put your ass in your fucking chair. I don’t care if you don’t have the right scented candle. Write 50 words. Right fucking now. I’ll wait.

Write another 50.

Now write another 100.

How long did that take you? Some days, it might take you 90 minutes to write 200 words. But that’s 200 more words than you would have written in 90 minutes of browsing Pinterest waiting for an angel to come down from heaven and write this post for you.

All that bullshit you do to Feed Your Muse? It’s stalling, you idiot.

The more you make yourself write instead of just thinking about writing, the easier it will be to actually fucking write.

I used to sit and stare at posts for hours and hours and hours before submitting them, so worried about the post being good enough. When I moved to a neighborhood with an aboveground train line, I was able to write on my morning commute, and writing every morning - even if only the 200 words I could crank out on mobile in 30 minutes before work - got me out of my weird writers block crutches and security blankets. It didn’t take as much effort to write, anymore. I wrote over 200,000 words in 2019, and over 300,000 words in 2020, when I had barely any commute at all to use on writing. I didn’t magically have endless hours of free time. I just wasn’t wasting my free time pretending that being on Tumblr counted as writing.

Tough love: doled out. And now:

TIPS & TRICKS FOR BEATING “””Writers Block”””

Stop acting like Writers Block is real. It’s not that it’s not real, but by telling yourself that you have Writers Block, you’re making it worse for yourself. You’re making excuses for yourself. I used Writers Block to stall writing my Topics in Creative Writing: Folktales portfolio for 3 months, and you know what happened? I still had to turn in the fucking portfolio, because the person I was writing for didn’t fucking care about my fucking Writers Block. And you know who had to sit her ass in a chair and write 30 pages of folktales in a 24 hour period? Me. It’s almost like my Writers Block was just PROCRASTINATION.

Set a timer. If you’re looking at your list of replies owed and you’re feeling like it might be easier to “do character dev” and “build a playlist” than to write your posts, break the task into smaller pieces. If your server has a sprint bot, use it. If not, set your own timer. Organize your list of threads with the ones you’ve owed replies on the longest at the top. Set your timer for 20 minutes and see how much you can write for the oldest post you owe. Not done? Set the timer for another 20 minutes. Keep setting that timer until that post is done and you can drop it in the tags channel. Now do the same for the second oldest. CRANK! THEM! OUT! If you find that it’s depleting your creative energy, that’s not unusual! When I get to this point in my own posting habits, my oldest replies owed are usually for Albus Dumbledore, a character I write specifically because I hate him. It is often easier to knock out all his posts in one chunk rather than shift voice, so this ends up working out nicely.

Don’t indulge your stupid stalling tactics. Do you typically get sidetracked by Pinterest? Put your phone away and close that tab. Do you get absorbed in lining up the perfect music for writing a post? Write in silence, asshole. Do you need to be in your favorite chair with the right lighting? Go sit on a park bench and write on mobile. It’s nice to write in idealized environments. I rented a treehouse last summer to write 10k on a novel! I get it! But you absolutely can write in other environments, if you have to. And if you can get yourself to write on a dark skin on your iPad at an airport in the Midwest while waiting for a flight - well, shit, think of how much you’ll be able to write on a laptop when your diva ass demands are properly met!

Don’t take on shit you don’t want to write. I fully admit that these tactics feel a bit like homework/chores/a to-do list for what is of course a fun hobby. You know how they say “love what you do and you’ll never work a day in your life?” If you don’t take on plots, characters, and threads that don’t have a lick of interest or excitement for you, this shit won’t feel like a hassle.

Hope this whips all you little miscreants (myself included) into shape! Now quit your yapping and start writing.

#rp guides #resources #writing resources #on writing #stop trying to make writers block happen. it's not going to happen.

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