#google translate I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL MYSELF the next time something happens and i will do it for real
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this is the worst fucking trip of my life. i spent a week in russia having a massive panic attack every fucking day and THIS is the worst trip of my life
#ive literally never experienced such rude people im gonna snap so fucking bad soon#it’s EVERY DAY if it was a one off it’d be at least a bit better but it’s EVERY TIME I GO ANYWHERE WHAT IS IT ABOUT ME!!!!!!! oh my god#i am so sorry central maybe it’s not you. well it was you but your shitass contagion has spread around the world#I’ve had like six people cut in lines ahead of me people walk so close they push me into walls i just stop dead now it’s the only thing tha#works some guy walked through my arm and WHACKED his arm on my water bottle in my bag and it HURT him i could hear it it’s the highlight of#this entire fucking trip#i have been hit in a cathedral nearly stood on multiple times kids running into me people trying to walk through me ive just lugged my case#onto a bus where these two old cunts with like cabin bag sized cases managed to move to take up SIX SEATS as i got on the bus with my big#case so i had to stand. then nobody would let me off the bus with my big fucking case so hopefully i broke some toes. and THEN in my three#minute walk to this airbnb i am supposed to just get off the planet apparently and also walk in the road because god forbid other people#develop an ounce of brain matter and not walk four abreast on the pavement im fucking over it. fuck off and die you can see me im 5’9#also the bus people im not done with those fucking bus people like they were in the four seats and one of them went to a two seat but the#one on the four stayed on the edge with his case so i couldn’t get past and there were no other case-friendly seats#like it was fucking intentional what level of fuckhead do you have to be to stop someone sitting on a bus absolutely wank#google translate I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL MYSELF the next time something happens and i will do it for real#dl
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20 questions for fic writers!
Thanks for the tag @acnelli (x), @schmem14 (x), and @indigo-scarf (x)!
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
I just reached exactly 100 works! Low-key so happy that my Pansmione soulmates fic was #100.
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
301,754!! I am actually shocked by how high this is.
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling (97)
First Kill (TV 2022) (1)
방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS (1)
Wednesday (TV 2022) (1)
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
What is this, fucking Jeopardy? [Drarry, E, 20.4k]
White, the colour of flowers [Drarry, M, 3.2k]
A Heart So Colourful ♡ [Viktor/Ron, E, 1.5k]
Impervius, Not [Drarry, T, 5.0k]
7 Days of Halloween: I Don't Feel Like Myself Anymore [Wolfstar, E, 29.7k]
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Oh heck yeah! I love getting and responding to comments. I've met some wonderful people in the comments section of fics.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Your Cigarette Smell [Sirius/Narcissa, E, 9.7k] with canon-compliant character death, so I think you know where this is going.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Any of my fluffy fics? Maybe Lavmione in Lavender for Morning or Nottpott in Silver Surprise.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Not yet (*crosses fingers*). I've had some mildly annoying comments (like saying how they disliked background Dramione in a Drarry fic I wrote), but nothing to make me wanna bash my head against the wall.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Umm... yes. I am currently in the middle of posting the smuttiest, most depraved series I have ever written for this year's Kinktober.... so check it out ig?
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
Not so much crossovers but heavily inspired by other stories. I wrote Dronarry in a Sandman AU and also Hermione/Daphne in a Twilight AU 😂
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of...
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yes! My Nottpott fic was translated into Russian. How cool is that??
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I have done art collabs but never co-written a fic. Definitely something I'd love to try. Maybe it'll happen next year!
14. What’s your all time favourite ship?
Idk there's too many to choose!! I probably read Drarry the most, but I think that's mostly because there's just SO MANY amazing Drarry authors. I can honestly be convinced to like any ship if I like the writing style and the story. I'm a huge rare pair and femslash shipper!!! The communities are just so wonderful 💖
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Never say never! But I'm really lacking motivation to finish my Squid Games AU Drarry fic. I love the concept, but the plot is just not flowing.
16. What are your writing strengths?
Emotion. I like my fics to pack a punch. I think I'm getting pretty good at it.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Longfic. It's hard for me to sustain motivation for one idea. I have too many running through my brain at once, and I always get distracted by the shiny new headcanon.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I've seen it. I've done it. I'm ambivalent, mostly. I think it can be a great way to show cultural differences between characters. But I also think 90% of the time it unnecessarily confuses the reader because if you don't know the language, you're just going to skip over the dialogue. And if you do know the language, then you'll notice if it doesn't sound natural. Yeah... not a fan when it's just google translated and copy-pasted.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Harry Potter!
20. Favourite fic you’ve written?
Anything on my Author's Favorites list! From recently though, maybe my Perciver strip chess fic 😉
Tagging (no pressure): @crazybutgood, @anaxandria-writes, @sugareey-makes-stuff, @givereadersahug, @orange-peony
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Yitzhak!
is a character! who Gregadiah What-Is-Math Rucka gave us almost no information about!
I've gone through Tales Through Time #6: The Bear and #1: My Mother's Axe with several magnifying glasses and done a lot of googling and taken my copy of the Tanakh off my shelf for the first time since (well, since the last time I needed to read Torah for TOG reasons, which I think was Booker Passover headcanons) and here's the best I can come up with.
In The Bear we meet someone who goes by the name Isaac Blue:
Read on for a lot of comic panel analysis and historical research and Jewish flailing!
So what do we know about this Isaac Blue person?
He's Lorge, he's got curly hair, he's basically a taller version of Joe as drawn by Leandro Fernández (ie an antisemitic stereotype why the fuck did they approve this character design?? and then why did they double down and copy-paste it to Yitzhak??):
He's got a mezuzah on the doorpost of his house in Alaska!
I screamed about the mezuzah way back in January in this post where I (very reasonably) assumed this character was Joe and spun myself a tale about how Booker is still Joe's brother so the mezuzah stays up even though Booker isn't welcome in that house for a century. Bottom line: the mezuzah is a tradition with origins in the commandment from Deuteronomy 6:9 to "write the words of G-d on the gates and doorposts of your house" and evolved over the course of the Rabbinic period into the modern mezuzah we see here.
I did unnecessary levels of google image search to glean absolutely no useful information about Yitzhak’s origins from this panel:
I've decided the variant cover of TTT 6 is Yitzhak because of a panel in My Mother’s Axe, shown here, and what's likely an unnecessarily deep reading of Exodus, discussed further down:
The person at the right of the bottom panel is wearing the same clothes as in the TTT 6 variant cover and has the same shoulder-length curly hair and hairy forearms.
Left to right, the people in this panel are Lykon (I'll never get used to him being white in the comics), Andy, Noriko (I think? why doesn't Andy mention her by name here?), and Yitzhak. Andy's robe has a stereotypically Greek design on the sleeve cuff, and I had to stop myself 10 minutes into a Wikipedia rabbit hole because Gregorforth doesn't think that deep about this shit. The solid clues as to timeline that we get in this panel are:
Andy's iron axe
the presence of Lykon, who Andy first met in 331 BCE
So all we know is that Yitzhak is an immortal, he was a contemporary of Lykon, and he's Jewish.
Isaac is the most common Anglicization of Yitzhak (which in turn is the most common Anglophone transliteration of יִצְחָק), and Greg always uses the (transliterated) Hebrew when he refers to this character. Yitzhak is the long-awaited child of Abraham and Sarah in Genesis, the child who G-d commanded Abraham to sacrifice but spared at the last minute. I see what you did there, Gregory.
Why Isaac Blue? This is where I pulled out my Tanakh. According to the New JPS translation, blue is the first of three colors of yarn listed in Exodus 35:6 among the gifts requested of the Israelites to construct the priestly garments for the Tabernacle and later the Temple. Then in Numbers 15:38 the Israelites are commanded to "make themselves fringes on the corners of their garments throughout the ages; let them attach a cord of blue to the fringe at each corner."
And now for sandbox timelines party! Gregadiah gave us ALMOST NOTHING to go on, so I'm gonna make my own fun.
I, like many modern Jews, think the stories in the Tanakh are foundational mythology that are valuable because of how they've shaped our people but that contain some fucked-up shit and either way aren't meant to be a record of historical facts. Modern scholarship generally agrees that the community we now call Jews emerged as a distinct group of Canaanites sometime in the late Bronze Age (cw this video's host says the Name of G-d aloud despite being a religious studies scholar who knows that is not a name anyone but the Temple priests are allowed to say). The first non-Biblical written record of the people Israel is from an Egyptian source c. 1200 BCE, and the Biblical kingdom of David and Solomon was probably an exaggeration of whatever really happened during the Bronze Age Collapse. We start getting into historical-fact territory a few centuries into the Iron Age:
588 BCE Solomon's Temple destroyed, Babylonian exile begins
538 BCE Cyrus of Persia allows Jews to return to Jerusalem
515 BCE Second Temple construction complete
332 BCE Alexander the Great At Something I Guess conquered Judea, beginning the Hellenistic period of Jewish history — 331 BCE Andy & Lykon find each other
167 BCE another jerkface Greek king desecrated the Temple and basically outlawed Judaism
164 BCE recapture of Jerusalem and Temple rededication during the Maccabean Revolt
70 CE destruction of the Second Temple by the Romans, beginning of the Rabbinic period of Jewish history that we're still in now
What if... and hear me out... what if immortals come in pairs, and the pairs are:
Andy & Quynh
Joe & Nicky
Booker & Nile
LYKON & YITZHAK
What if Yitzhak was a priest of the Second Temple? What if he and Lykon killed each other just like Joe and Nicky would in the same city around 1300 years later, but instead of enemies-to-lovers speedrun with an absurdly long happily-ever-after, when Lykon died permanently Yitzhak decided to separate from Andy and Noriko and become the hermit we later see in Alaska?
We don't know how old Yitzhak is compared to the others, only that he was a contemporary of Lykon at a time when Andy was using an Iron Age version of her mother's axe. Other plausible origins for him:
a Jew of the early Rabbinic period, maybe a child or grandchild of people who were still alive before the Second Temple was destroyed
a Judean of the Second Temple era under the Romans or Greeks or Persians, maybe a priest, maybe not
an exilee in Babylon, maybe of the generation who got to return, maybe of the generation who was exiled (he doesn't look like he was 50 at his first death but who knows, he could've been mortal for both)
an Israelite of the Kingdoms of Israel and Judah, maybe a priest of Solomon's Temple or again maybe not
an Israelite wandering in the desert with Moses
THEE Yitzhak, ben Avraham v'Sarah, our patriarch who was brought up for sacrifice and then spared, and then spared again, and then spared again, and again, and again...
or! he could also be a Canaanite or other Levantine who predates the people Israel, who at some point in his very long life chose to join our mixed multitude, who like Andromache before him (and like Avram and Sarai would in this case do after him) took a new name to reflect the magnitude of influence this people has had on him
Why do I keep saying Yitzhak might have been a priest? It's thanks to the one detail in the artwork I could plausibly connect to solid research without getting a PhD real quick. Take a look at the gorgeous detail on the opening of his robe in the TTT 6 cover. He's dressed in rags, holes and dirt everywhere, rough stitches probably from hasty repair work — except for the neck opening. Compare that to this description from Exodus 39:23 of the construction of the priestly garments for the Tabernacle: "The opening of the robe, in the middle of it, was like the opening of a coat of mail, with a binding around the opening, so that it would not tear."
The next verses describe the intricate designs for the hem of the priestly garment. Yitzhak's ragged garment looks like the hem was torn off entirely.
Am I overthinking this? Yes I am! You're welcome!
My friend and historical research hero @lady-writes is in a Discord server with Gregadiah and asked the man himself some questions about all this. He clearly thinks he's being sneaky?? No shit Yitzhak is Jewish, dude, I want DETAILS!
I will not be giving up my Jewish Booker headcanon, I've put too much thought into it by now, the internalized shame of antisemitism explains Booker's depression too well for me, and it just adds so much richness to Booker/Nile both being children of forced diasporas. Fortunately (for him, not me, bc I'd do it anyway!) Gregothy supports fan headcanons even when they're not in line with his own:
One last thing before I close like 100 research tabs and go back to writing historical fantasy and/or porn! I love that, despite that atrocious caricature of a face design, our canon Jew and our fanon Jew are both Lorge and Soft and Kind, flying the face of the antisemitic stereotype of Ashkenazi Jewish men as small and weak, but also not falling into the New Jew / Muscle Jew stereotype that Zionism created. (I am trying SO HARD not to talk about Israel/Palestine for once ughhhhhhhhhh) Anyway here's a (US-centric but very good) primer on both these stereotypes of Jewish masculinity. Is this why I'm forever projecting my transmasc diasporist feels onto Jewish Booker the service sub? 🤷🏻♂️
I’ll reblog a second version of this with full image descriptions so that there’s a version accessible for folks who need IDs as well as a version accessible for folks who get overwhelmed by walls of text.
#TOG POC Love Fest#yitzhak#jewish booker#tales through time spoilers#tales through time#tog meta#tog#jewish things#mine#antisemitism#hi i'm an antizionist jew no i don't really want to talk about it
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Writing Master List
I love writing analysis and fanfiction for Your Turn to Die. Here, you can find links to all my writing. Spoilers abound!
Meta I’m Proudest Of
Why Calling It “Logic Versus Emotion” Makes Sense
Sou Hiyori and Kanna’s Sister Parallels
I was wondering why Sou had a zero percent survival rate…
What is Sou proudest of?
What is Kanna proudest of?
What is Keiji proudest of?
Unpopular opinion about Keiji
What are your thoughts on Nao as a character?
Why pushing Fake Reko is logical and sparing her is emotional
Shin vs. Kanna choice: each “valid in its own way”
That was a real comedy of errors on your part, Shin
What “Things” did Shin learn at Sou’s House?
If I could kill Keiji to save both Kanna and Shin...
Thoughts on queer-coded villains and Shin
I make Shin say five nice things about Keiji (not meta, but important)
Some jumbled thoughts about Redemption, and Part 2
How different do you think the story would be if Shin were a girl?
Theories
“Midori is Meister’s son,” and other Sou theories <- my favorite theory!
The Hades Incident, the Present Death Game, and the Role of the Man from the Memorandum
Rambling about Meister Family Theory
A Quick Keiji Theory
I’m staking my pride on this one: Keiji won’t die in the coffin. Part 1 and Part 2
Implications of Kanna being Original Sou’s blood relative
The Mystery of Anzu’s High Survival Rate
Fanfiction
My username is Florencetheflowerfairy on Ao3! Any fanfiction I write will be tagged “my fanfiction” on here.
I haven’t yet posted this to Ao3.
My fanart
Soup Hiyori
Happy birthday Kanna!
All of my meta
How does Sou deal with pain?
When does Sou feel safest? What would others change about him?
What would the others change about Sara?
What do I wish to see happen with Sou?
Chapter 3 Prediction: Sara will lose Keiji
Sou & Keiji’s relationship thoughts; and Personal Headcanons
Opinion on Midori / Original Sou; and Opinion on YTTS
Thoughts on Kurumada’s Partnership with Sou and Kanna
What calms Sou when he’s upset?
What does Sou wish he could change about himself?
Who would be Sou’s favorite fictional character?
What would EVERYONE change about Sou?
How did both Sous do in school?
Who does Sou want to please the most?
How would Kanna spend her money?
What calms Kai when he’s upset? How does Kai deal with pain?
How does Kanna do in school? What’s something Original Sou lost that he would love to have back?
What’s something I wish had happened with Joe?
Unpopular opinion about Q-Taro
What’s something I wish had happened with the Yabusame siblings?
Unpopular opinion about Kai
Unpopular opinion about Original Sou
Who would I vote for in the Second Main Game?
Laughing at Q-Taro in Russian Roulette
Speaking of “I laugh at inappropriate moments in YTTD”
Math Saga (Collection of Theorizing Posts about the Percentage Papers)
Why Kanna can’t take the scarf
More Scarf Meta
I think Shin should fake amnesia in the zaniest way possible, please
Thoughts on Mr. Policeman is Joe’s Dad Theory, Parts 1 and 2 (Some of these thoughts are outdated because I don’t think Keiji knew Joe’s last name in the beginning.)
If I ever seem too harsh on Keiji, please keep in mind
We can hear Joe’s music theme in Midori’s music theme
Thoughts on the Floor Masters
Did Shin send the Sacrifice Card to Joe?
What if Joe had one month to live?
What is Original Sou proud of?
Reading Shin as Queer
Alice and Pain
What would other people change about Kai?
Could Shin and Keiji’s roles switch?
What was Keiji like before the shooting?
I encouraged Sister to vote for Kai in Practice Round
How does Original Sou/Midori sleep?
Who do you think Keiji would bond with the most?
Analysis of Sara’s vote in the Practice Vote
Massacre Ending Thoughts
Thoughts on Naosara?
Dummy Bullet Saga (How did Shin know about dummy bullets??)
Keiji is my Confront Character
What will the fallout with the dummies look like?
Keiji seeing the percentage papers is the simplest answer IMO
Thoughts on Keialice
Thoughts on Joesara
Shin Tsukimi could have DIED ON HIS BIRTHDAY?!
Shin is Poor! Part 1 and Part 2 and Part 3
One more funny story, on a walk with Sister...
How would Shin have fared in the Death Game without the Sou persona?
Is Shin too good for this world? (Reaction to above meta)
How would Joe, Kai, and Mishima approach the Second Main Game vote?
What do you think would be Shin’s partnership ability?
Thoughts on AI personalities
Reaction to ‘Sara gets the Sage Card’ Theory
Have you considered the implications of 0.0% vs. 0%?
Foolish Sara AU
When does the Death Game take place, and how long are they there?
Shin’s relationships with Reko and Gin
“When you drink, you gotta be careful not to get swallowed up yourself.”
Judge Keiji by the fact that he’s acting like a cop
I’ve switched to calling him Shin!
What was Shin like in the years after Original Sou died, but before the Death Game?
Headcanons and Shin, Kanna, and trading tokens
Analyzing Shin and Sara’s doll placements in Safalin’s lab
Shin’s reaction to Sara’s “Haven’t we always been the bestest of friends?”
Scenario: Keymaster Kanna takes Shin’s key necklace instead of his scarf
Artists should draw Kanna grieving Shin however they like
Nao and Shin’s friendship
“I happen to like people with nice personalities”
I’m just putting these here so I can find them if necessary: 1, 2, 3
What if Shin thinks Sara is an adult?
Shrodinger’s Lock Saga (Many theories came from speculating about Asu-Naro’s weird locks in Sara’s first trial!)
Shin emulating Sou, oh no
Some thoughts on Shin and Alice, and the darker side to their relationship
A Serious Analysis of the Collarbone Sprites (& other Shin sprites)
Midori and Joe Sprite Parallels
Do you think Ranmaru is more or less reliable than Keiji?
Ranmaru and Keiji Parallels and Thoughts on Keiji flirting
Ranmaru and Keiji reacting to Joe
Out of the cast, who do you think is most likely to be the mastermind?
Miley vs. Gashu thoughts
Megumi Sasahara theories and headcanons
I love that this game’s heart is so earnest
AU where Shin has the Sacrifice, and he can’t pick Kanna
Theory/Headcanon: Sou-Shin-Sara-Kanna three year age gaps
Scenery Paintings in the Gallery
Kanna and Original Sou Parallel - “creepy smiles”
Undertale Parallels, and making Original Sou sympathetic
Kai and Original Sou Parallels
Fic ideas: Green-haired characters, and Shin + Sara Friendship
I love Fake Reko so much!
What if the decision to push Fake Reko affects what happens with the dummies?
Follow-up to above meta about Fake Reko
What if Joe died in his First Trial?
Reaction to Keiji Discourse about flirting, Part 2
Reactions to Fem!Shin:
Kanna’s perspective, Bath Scene Shin, More Bath Scene, Keiji flirting with Shin, I DON’T CARE HOW SEXY HE IS, Am I a lesbian
Will the dummies want to fill in for their counterparts’ lives?
Q-Taro Pacman Sister Theory
Poison Stinger analysis and Rio Ranger’s characterization
Megumi returns as a doll theory
More thoughts on “Back Up Candidates” Theory
Thoughts on AIs representing younger personalities
What if the current Death Game is another simulation?
Shin and Q-Taro ages musings
Shin and Sara ages musings
Honorifics Analysis: Part 1 and Part 2
Everyone’s music preferences headcanons
Shin’s thoughts on Gin in Logic Route
What if Shin died and Kai survived in the Second Main Game?
Imagine Trans Kanna
Thoughts on the names Sara “suspects” when learning that there is a human from Asu-Naro among us
Why doesn’t Shin challenge Keiji for lying that he’s a detective at the start?
Shipping
Which death hurt you the most?
Who do you think is overrated? Who do you think is suspicious?
Shin-Sou roleswap AU
Did you ever notice how Shin is crying during the First Main Game?
How do you think the characters sleep?
What if Shin became Sara’s ally instead of Keiji?
Seven Deadly Sins in YTTD
Song Analyses
“Rat” by Penelope Scott
“Villainous Thing” by Shayfer James
“Nearly Witches (Ever Since We Met)” by Panic! at the Disco
“Butterflies and Hurricanes” by Muse
"House of memories" by Panic! at the Disco
More fun posts
Sister tag (All submissions by my sister)
Sometimes I get self-conscious for loving Sou Hiyori so much
Thinking about how our Sou Hiyori is a queer-coded villainous type
Picrew of the Greenblings
Fannish ramblings and Speculation about Voting for Keiji in 2nd Main Game
Sou has a halo in the manga
Sprite Parallels between Kanna, Sara, and Sou
Confession: Character development is more important than plot twists
Star Wars KOTOR musings
My Favorite Thing about Sou and Sara meeting
Another Greenblings Picrew
How to roast my fave
Are the greenblings next to each other??
Me feeling soft about Sou x Alice and Sou x Kai in spite of myself
I’m too much of a nerd for tumblr
Picrew of Green-haired characters and Sara
Cute Kurumada and Kanna headcanons
Do it for Nao
Happy birthday Keiji, from Sou
Danganronpa Thoughts as of 10/22/20
Top 3 emotional moments
Comparing Eye Sizes
I’m all caught up with 3-1A as of 10/24/20
Link to my “Shin attacking Inbox” edit
I am my PFP
“Disclosure” apparently means “Coming Out”
What did you name your Midori?
Do you think Shin was a gamer?
PMMM Thoughts: Logic vs Emotion
Why would you make Shin a tank?!
Dracula is Sou and Shin is Renfield
Among Us Headcanon
I just think Kanna having the Keymaster first is good drama
So long you fucking fascist (posted on 11/7/20)
Please don’t send me leaks!
Also how are we going to tag spoilers...? (11/12/20)
oh no I’m getting sentimental
Shin and Sara’s confrontation over the smartphone remains my favorite thing ever
Reactions to “I make Shin say five nice things about Keiji”: 1, 2, 3
A Rewarding part of my blog
My undying love for Britney Spears
“Ahaha, I’m glad you remembered my name.”
I love this picrew for the Greenblings
“Saw” and “Cage” on Google Translate
What if there were two Gonbee Yamadas?
Put them in meme boxes
Keiji’s emo eyeliner
Shin can smash something! and part 2
Acrostic Poem for Sou Hiyori
Midori’s canon voice
“Sou” puns
Time sensitive questions!! 1 and 2
All the characters’ ages
Do you think Shin swears?
Let’s not pit bears and twinks against each other!
Here’s how Shindemption can still win
tfw you draw fanart in time for Kanna’s birthday
Keiji accuses Shin of breaking Mishima’s monitor even though he KNOWS Shin is innocent
Q-Taro and Shin college AU
Kugie’s ghost haunting Keiji
Christmas 2020: Part 1 and Part 2
Picrew of Shin and Sou, High School Days~
I struggle to write villains
I play Villains Bingo with Shin
…
This list will be updated sporadically as I write more! You can always use the “mine” tag to find any worthwhile original post I make.
Please feel free to talk to me about YTTD anytime! I love hearing from you all! It keeps me motivated and makes me happy to meet people!
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Buddie Week, Day Six: All We Know is Touch and Go
Eddie reaches over, forcing one of Buck’s hands out of his hair, wrapping it in both of his own. “We have to believe they're going to be okay.”
“But what if they’re not? Did I tell them I loved them before we left? Do they know we love them? Did I hug them enough? Did I-”
“Buck, just breathe, okay? Stop inviting trouble until we know more.”
“They’re back there all alone, Eddie. Our boys are alone,” Buck murmurs, turning to his husband, and he’s broken, eyes sad, and there are tears brimming, ready to be unleashed. “What if-”
Eddie shakes his head. “We’re not ‘what if’-ing this, Buck. We can’t. We hope for the best, and we wait for the doctor.” He kisses the back of Buck’s hand, and Buck lets out a breath, trying to center himself.
AO3 Link Here
Prompt: “Just breathe, okay?” + hurt/comfort
Notes: Title is from State of Grace by Taylor Swift. You can find the other stories in this ‘verse here and probably should read at least a few of them to know who the OMC is in this fic. Also: we are practicing suspension of disbelief and general magical handwaving over all the medical inaccuracies that are in here because a doctor/healthcare provider I am most certainly not.
And someone please let me know if Google Translate failed me anywhere.
--//--//--
They were just going to get ice cream.
It’s all Nate can focus on: they were just going to get ice cream, and Eddie and Buck are going to kill him, because now the truck is pressed against the concrete median of the highway, other crashed cars around them, and his blood’s splattering onto the seats and Chris won’t wake up. Would they send him back?
They wouldn’t do that, would they? They...no, you know they love you, and this won’t change that.
But he’s gotten Chris hurt.
Fuck. Just fuck.
He really likes his family.
He doesn’t want to go anywhere.
“N...Nate?” Chris whimpers, and he gasps, turning too quickly to look at his brother, and pain explodes in his head.
“Shit, shit, shit shit shit,” he breathes out, waiting for the pain to settle into something more manageable, so at least he can see. When he finally attempts to open his eyes again (and God, it hurts, but he has to check on his brother), Chris is watching him, worried, his right cheek red, bruising, a lazily bleeding laceration on his cheekbone. His glasses are gone, and there are more cuts peppering his face. There’s melted ice cream on his face (“I don’t see how you can eat that while I’m driving,” Nate had been complaining, just before the crash, and Chris had given him the biggest shit-eating grin as he took another huge bite of his mint chocolate chip), but for the most part, he looks okay.
Nate still can’t help but breathe out, “Buck and Eddie are going to kill me.”
Chris frowns, reaching over with an unsteady, shaky hand. “Did...did something hit your head?”
“What?”
“You’re talking nonsense, Nate. Did you hit your head?”
“I got you hurt.”
Chris’ frown deepens. “No, you didn’t. A car hit us. You’re bleeding.”
“I know. I’m getting blood all over-”
Pain explodes again as sirens cut through the air, and this time, thankfully everything fades to black.
--//--//--//--
“They’re going to be just fine, Buck,” Eddie whispers. They’ve been waiting for a doctor for a few minutes, and honestly, they probably both look a mess, still in their uniforms, halfway through a shift and just getting back from a rather disgusting run when Athena called, and now Buck is sitting in a hard plastic chair, hunched over, hands clenching into his hair, foot tapping over and over and over, and through his own worry, it makes Eddie hurt. “We’re here now, and they’re going to be fine.”
He reaches over, forcing one of Buck’s hands out of his hair, wrapping it in both of his own. “We have to believe they're going to be okay.”
“But what if they’re not? Did I tell them I loved them before we left? Do they know we love them? Did I hug them enough? Did I-”
“Buck, just breathe, okay? Stop inviting trouble until we know more.”
“They’re back there all alone, Eddie. Our boys are alone,” Buck murmurs, turning to his husband, and he’s broken, eyes sad, and there are tears brimming, ready to be unleashed. “What if-”
Eddie shakes his head. “We’re not ‘what if’-ing this, Buck. We can’t. We hope for the best, and we wait for the doctor.” He kisses the back of Buck’s hand, and Buck lets out a breath, trying to center himself.
“Is this what it was like? When Chris had to have surgeries when he was younger?”
“Every time,” Eddie answers. “We would be waiting, me, Shannon, Mom and Dad the one time I was gone-” he flinches here, and Buck squeezes his hand. “That one was the hardest, and I don’t think I”ll ever forgive myself for being gone. So yeah, the uncertainty and the worry and the fear...it’s always there, but now, now I have to believe it’s going to be okay. I have to, and you have to, even though we’re scared shitless.”
“I couldn’t imagine not having you here to share the weight,” Buck murmurs. “I’m really glad we’re here together. It makes it so much easier to bear.”
They don’t have to wait much longer, thank god, because Eddie’s about to press against Buck’s knee to settle his leg, and they both stand when the doctor calls about Chris. “He’s okay?” Buck asks before the doctor even has a chance to give them her name, but she smiles at him, nodding.
“Christopher is going to be okay. He has a mild concussion, some cuts and bruises on his face, and he’s going to be very sore for the next few days, but nothing permanent, and nothing overly serious. Oh, and I’m Dr. Rodriguez. It’s nice to meet you both. Which one is ‘Dad’ and which one is ‘Buck’ because I’ve heard a multitude of compliments about both and still don’t know which one is which.”
Eddie likes her immediately.
Chris is still in a bed in the ER, and he smiles widely as the curtain opens. “Dad!” he cries happily, and Eddie’s heart tightens as he wraps his son in a hug, as gentle as possible. He feels Buck hug them both tight, and their world is a little more right. “Dad, lemme go! I’m okay!”
“Mijo, you were in a car accident; let me hug you a little longer, hmm?” he whispers, pressing a kiss into Chris’ bedraggled curls.
“Yeah, Chris, let us baby you a little longer,” Buck adds, and Chris huffs, but puts up with a hug for another minute or two before he starts shifting, uncomfortable enough that they both let him go. “You’ve got a hell of cut there, kiddo.” His hand is shaking when he touches Chris’ cheek, just barely, pulling back when Chris flinches. “Sorry about that. I’m just worried.”
“I’m okay, really. My head hurts a lot, but the doctor said I shook my brain a little and it’s going to take a few days until I feel back to normal, And I’m pretty sure my morning exercises aren’t happening for a few days.”
Eddie can’t help his smile. “I think you’ll be okay if you skip them for a few days.”
“Have you...have you guys seen Nate yet? Is he okay? He was talking nonsense in the truck-”
“The doctors are still working on him,” Eddie says, careful with his words; Dr. Rodriguez said there was another doctor working on Nate, that he’d come find them as soon as he got a free moment. “But they’ll come get us soon, I’m sure.”
“Dad, he said something about you guys hating him, because I got hurt. But he got hurt, too! Can you...this wasn’t his fault. He didn’t do anything wrong. I begged for ice cream, and we’d just gone to get some-”
“Superman, neither of you did anything wrong; it was an accident, and they happen,” Buck interrupts, running his hand through Chris’ hair. “No one’s angry at either of you; your dad and I were so scared about both of you, scared that we wouldn’t get the chance to tell you again how much we love you and what amazing men you are both growing up to be. You can ask your dad-I was a mess out there waiting.”
“He really was,” Eddie confirms, grinning when Buck and Chris roll their eyes. “I mean it, Chris! He’s dramatic.”
Chris laughs, and Buck gasps at him, eyes wide. “Christopher! I thought we were buddies!”
When a nurse comes to grab one of them to talk to Nate’s doctor, Eddie goes, Buck having settled half on Chris’ bed, their son drowsy against his shoulder. “I’ll hold down the fort here,” he whispers as Eddie gives him a kiss.
“He was unconscious when the paramedics got to him,” the doctor explains, “but he woke up here, agitated and worried. We gave him something to keep him calm so we could examine him, so he’s going to be a touch out of it. He’s got a concussion, and there’s a nasty cut on his hairline from where his head hit the window. His side of the vehicle impacted the median of the road, and it caused damage to the left side of his body. He has a couple of fractured ribs, he’s got bruising from the airbag, whiplash, but most concerning, there’s damage to his spleen that we need to watch, but the CT confirmed it wasn’t as major as I first feared.”
“Do you want to admit him?”
“I would like to keep him overnight, especially with his concussion and to keep an eye on his spleen. We’re waiting to get him transferred to the children’s floor, hopefully it shouldn’t be too much longer. You can wait with him until they come to get him.”
Eddie thanks the man, opening the curtain as quietly as possible, and Nate...Nate’s watching him apprehensively, tracking him as he moves, suspicious. The laceration on his forehead really is nasty, large and circled in darkening bruises. There are smaller cuts peppered down his cheek and neck before disappearing under his gown, and his left eye is nearly swollen shut.
He looks awful, but he’s alive, and really, that’s all that matters to Eddie.
“Hey, mijo,” he murmurs, heart clenching when he sees Nate’s bottom lip wobbling. “Jesus, kiddo, you gave us quite the scare.”
“I didn’t-” his voice is soft, hoarse, and he winces, swallowing once. “I didn’t mean to get Chris hurt. Please don’t send me back. I’ll do whatever I have to to stay.”
“Nathan-” Eddie breathes out, hugging his eldest son as tight as he dares, feeling his kid sag in his arms. “Baby, you aren’t going anywhere but upstairs to a room and then home with us when we can take you. I know you aren’t thinking clearly right now, and that everything’s a little jumbled, but Nate, Buck and I? we aren’t at all mad at you, for anything. We wouldn’t be mad at you if the accident had been your fault, and it wasn’t. Athena said the driver beside you swerved into your lane and hit the truck, that’s it.”
“I just wanted to get ice cream,” Nate whispers, and Eddie can hear the tears, feel them getting the collar of his shirt wet. “I didn’t-”
“You were being a good big brother, mijo. We are never planning on you being anything but part of our family, being our kid; nothing you do is going to change that.”
“I thought you were going to hate me.” The confession is said into Eddie’s shirt, and his entire world freezes and he thinks about how scared Nate must have been, waiting for them to come, wondering if they wouldn’t. “I really didn’t want you to hate me.”
“Nunca, mijo. Never. Buck and I will always love you.”
“That’s good,” Nate finally answers. “Because I think I totaled your truck.”
Eddie laughs, the first real sense of normality since Athena’s fateful call. “I needed to replace it soon anyway.”
He stays with Nate until they come to transfer him, promising him either he or Buck will be with him as soon as the nurses allow. He gives him one last kiss on his forehead, one last gentle squeeze on his shoulder, one last “I love you,” and watches the bed until the elevator doors close behind it before retreating back to Chris’ curtain. He’s a little surprised to see Chris dressed in comfy clothes, Buck standing beside him, awkwardly holding his crutches. “What’s going on here?”
“Doc discharged him, and Mads brought them both some clothes from home. Chim called her for us,” Buck explains, handing Chris his crutches when asked. Together, they make their slow way out to the waiting room, where Maddie’s sitting, typing away on her phone. She smiles when she sees them, giving both Eddie and Buck a hug in greeting. “I guess I can go home with Chris, get a quick shower and then come relieve you?”
“Aunt Maddie can take me home,” Chris informs them, grimacing just a bit as he grips his crutches, the walk more painful than usual. “You both need to stay here.”
“Superman-” Buck tries to argue, but Chris stops him with one raised eyebrow.
“Buck, Nate’s the one in the hospital; I’m getting to go home. He’s the one who’s not alright right now. He needs both of you. Aunt Maddie said she and Chim could stay with me already, and you guys can stay here. I want to make sure Nate knows he’s just as important as I am to you guys. I know that, and you know that, but he’s not sure of that right now, and it’s important that we all make sure he knows.”
Eddie knows he and Buck have lost this battle (and seriously, Chris is fourteen; how are they losing battles to fourteen-year-olds?), so he shakes his head when Buck starts to argue with Chris. “You will go home, take a hot shower, and get some rest?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Promise?”
“Dad-”
“Mijo, I don’t want to worry that you aren’t doing what the doctor said while I’m here.”
Chris rolls his eyes, but nods. “I promise. Home, shower, cuddle with Scarlet, and then bed. Aunt Maddie can text you all about my very boring adventures.” He hugs his father, squeezing as much as he can muster. “As long as you take care of Nate.”
“Always, kid.”
--//--//--
Nate wakes sometime during the night, groggy from the meds they’ve given him to help manage the pain while he tries to sleep. Everything feels off, and he’s a little desperate when he looks around, the room empty until he turns his head ever-so-gently, the ache of moving that much starting to build, and he sees them both, sprawled out on the unused bed beside him, both of them facing him, Eddie spooned around Buck, their hands intertwined, resting close to Buck’s heart.
They’ve stayed.
It’s what Eddie promised him, when he was still confused, still worried that everything was his fault and they were going to send him away, but somehow, waking up now, more clear headed, it means something more.
It means everything.
They’ve stayed.
#My writing#buddieweek2020#buddie fic#Buddie#evan buckley#Eddie Diaz#christopher diaz#original character#I Hate Accidents series#9-1-1#9-1-1 Fox#911#9-1-1 fanfiction#fanfic
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mistakes 2/4
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader
Warnings: plenty of swearing, terrible writing
Word Count: 2110
Add on: there is a lot of Russian in here. I used google for translating so if you are Russian and it is wrong, please message me and tell me lol. Part three should be the last part. If not, part four is the max I will go.
gif is NOT mine, credit to owners
“What is love you ask? Love is a lot of things. It is the feeling you get when one smiles at you, the butterflies dancing around in your stomach. It is a jolt of electricity that shoots through the part they touched, sometimes even through your whole body. Then, when your lips touch, it is as if fireworks have gone off in the distance. It is like you two are the only ones alive on this earth, just the two of you. Do not forget the way your heart races as they tell you they love you, or when they just speak to you because you love hearing their voice so much. That warm feeling you get when you are able to smell their perfume or cologne they always wear. You begin to think home is no longer a place, but it is a person and sometimes maybe it is. Sometimes, the feeling you get is the feeling of warmth and security. Security being a feeling every human being needs.”
When Steve got to a hotel to stay overnight at to give his wife some space, he pulled out the paper with his wife’s vows written on it from his wallet. He always kept it with him, no matter where he went because it warmed his heart and reminded him he had a wife at home waiting for him and that she loved him deeply. He paid for a few nights thinking that’s how long his wife might need to let what happened process. It was still processing through his mind that him and Y/N are now separated. He really screwed up and Steve did not think it was fixable.
Steve got a call on the third night of his stay at the hotel from his best friend, Bucky and when he answered with a groggy voice, Bucky’s was frantic and full of panic. “Steve, you have to get over to your house. The team is already there.”
“Bucky?” Steve sat up, rubbing his eyes while trying to wake up a little bit more. “Wha-what’s going on?”
“Y/N was taken. By H.Y.D.R.A. and they want what’s theirs back in exchange for Y/N.” It took no time for Steve to jump right into action and tell Bucky he was on his way all the while he was throwing on jeans and boots. His phone was put in his front pocket, grabbing his wallet and keys off the side table and he was out of his hotel room.
~
When Steve arrived, he spotted Bucky talking to Natasha and Tony on the front porch and he turned his motorcycle off, hopping off it to quickly jog over to them. He immediately questioned them, “Have you found her? Do you know where my wife is?”
Natasha was the first to speak, but her statement was short and cold. “No, we haven’t.”
“Shit,” Steve’s hands dug through his sandy blonde hair and was pulling hard while tears pricked his eyes. He could’ve prevented this. He could’ve done anything. This was his fault, he cheated on her with Sharon- “Why the hell is Sharon here?” Shit, this is gonna go downhill really fast, Steve thought to himself when he saw the woman standing with Nick Fury. Steve turned on his heel, trudging back to his motorcycle with Bucky hot on his heels yelling for him. Snatching his helmet off the seat, Bucky threw it quite a few yards away from them.
“It’s time to own your shit, Steve. You cheated, everyone knows that now. But right now, you can’t leave. The team is trying their best to get Y/N, Steve. Now, come back and help us instead of running like a little bitch.” said Bucky.
Of course everyone knew. His wife probably confided in Tony after Steve left considering that is her best friend and Tony has a knack for telling people things he shouldn’t. Not like it surprised Steve, he just wanted to be the one who said something about it, owned up to it. Steve nodded and walked with Bucky back to Tony and Natasha with a guilt hanging by his shoulders. Natasha’s glare and Tony’s look of disappointment was making him feel worse which he knew was what he deserved but he felt a little angry for them not seeing his side. Then Steve realized he had no side, or at least no good one. He’d broken his wife’s heart, his teams really good friend and asset’s heart. He deserved every hateful thing that came at him.
“Rogers? Can we talk for a minute?” her sickly sweet voice made his blood boil and he didn’t want to lose it in front of his team but he also didn’t want to hear her voice at all. “Steve, please,”
“No, Sharon. Go away.” said Steve without turning around to face the blonde woman.
Sharon sighed heavily, “Please, Steve, we need to talk.”
“Talk about what, Sharon?” his whole body whipped around so fast, Sharon jumped from the sudden closeness and the angered appearance. “About the fact I lost my wife three days ago because I fucked your slutty ass a month and a half ago? It was one time. You need to leave. I’m having Fury get you off of this case and I don’t want you near me. Or my fucking wife. Got it, agent Carter?” Steve hadn’t bothered to censor himself and he didn’t care about the devastated expression painted on her face, the one he caused. It made him feel good to say that but also, horrible at the same time. It wasn’t a way to talk to a woman yet he did. He treated a woman wrong before this; his wife. Steve strolled away, Bucky by his side, and left Sharon there with a broken heart that was beating for only him. He fueled that fire and all he could do was let it burn out.
~
Meanwhile, Y/N was tied to a metal chair with a piece of clothing tied around her mouth and head in an extremely bitter room with no windows and every wall was a bland white, no furniture besides the chair Y/N was tied to or from what she could see. Her vision was blurry and her head pounded with a strong pain that was coming from the spot she was hit. She blinked a few times to clear her vision and she saw a table a few feet away from her covered with weapons; daggers, pistols, machine guns, grenades, knives, butcher knives, shotguns, and so many more. What caught her eye was the small bottle of chloroform and a rag next to it. Shit, she cursed to herself. The rope was rubbing her skin raw making it painful to move even a centimeter. How long has she been out?
“Ah, good morning, sunshine,” her e/c eyes shot to the man with a thick Russian accent who came in through the steel door on her left. She winced at the slight movement. “Have a good night's sleep?”
She tried to speak but it only came out muffled and the man chuckled deeply before making his way to her to take it out the cloth from her mouth. “Who the hell are you?”
“Oh, got a potty mouth, do we? That’s not very ladylike, miss Y/N,” said the man. “Let me introduce myself, I’m Vadim Ivanov. I’m an agent in H.Y.D.R.A. and you vill be staying vith us for a bit vhile ve vait for your little teammates. There’s no choice in that, krasotka,”
“What are you talking about? Why are you waiting on them? What do they have that you need so badly?”
The man got uncomfortably close to Y/N tucking a piece of hair back and she was able to smell his breath that stunk of raw fish, and he had nasty, yellow teeth that were rotting. His hot breath got next to her right ear sending a chill down her spine and he spoke, “That is none of your business, printsessa. All you need to vorry about is if they vill get here in time to get you out alive. Hopefully, they do. You are a very pretty woman, liybimaya. It vill be devastating for me to have to kill you. If I could, I’d take you for myself.” Vadim let go of his hold of her cheek and sauntered over to the table. Y/N watched him as he took a peek out every gun making sure they were all loaded and Y/N couldn’t help but really fear for her life. She’s been kidnapped before, it should’ve been mentioned in the interview with Nick Fury when she was getting hired as an agent that it’d happen a couple times. This time felt different to her though. Something felt off about this whole situation and she was beginning to feel deep down she wasn’t going to make it out alive.
Salty, warm tears started leaking from her eyes without any warning and she hadn’t realized she was crying until she felt a tear fall onto her bare thigh. Her eyelashes were sticking together with the wetness from her tears, tears falling into her mouth and onto her thighs. She sniffled as she felt her nose beginning to run. Y/N had never felt so scared.
“Please, let me go, Vadim. Please. I can get you whatever you want. There’s no need to do this. Just let me go. Please…” she begged. Vadim continued what he was doing until he got to the knives and daggers when he picked one up to examine it. Y/N felt like such a coward, she’s never done this on missions but everything was different, everything felt different. She was vulnerable thanks to her husband and the Ectopic pregnancy and it was making her this way. Y/N dropped her head with a loud sob escaping her lips, was this what it felt like to let go? This was how it felt like to be cheated on. She felt a hand lifting her chin up and she was met with the dark green eyes of Vadim’s along with a sweet smile of his. A gasp fell from her lips when the coldness of the dagger touched her knee and the immediate pain when he cut her knee. “No, no, no, Vadim, please. Don’t do this. Don’t do it anymore. Stop, please, Vadim.”
“I can not do that, printsessa. I vas given orders and I am to do as I am told. Now, say cheese.” Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion until the hammer she didn’t even know he grabbed was swinging at her knee. The break of the bone travelled through the room and she let out a shriek just as Vadim took a picture of her. “Идеально (perfect),”
“Как, черт возьми, это так Идеально (how the hell is that perfect)? Ты только что сломал мне чертово колено (you just broke my damn knee)!”
Vadim looked at her in surprise when she spoke back to him in Russian. “Ты можешь говорить на русском (you can speak Russian)?”
“Я агент, ты чертовски осел (I’m an agent, you fucking ass). Конечно я могу (of course I can)!”
smack
“Не говори со мной так, сука (don’t speak to me that way, bitch)!”
“О, иди трахни себя (oh go fuck yourself). Я могу говорить с тобой в любом случае я хочу (I can talk to you in anyway I want).” Y/N snapped back at him.
“Я должен был взять Шарон вместо (I should’ve taken Sharon instead). Неудивительно, что Стив Роджерс обманывает (no wonder Steve Rogers is cheating).”
“Ебать тебя (fuck you)!”
crack
Y/N let out a deafening scream the hammer came in contact of her right wrist then her toes on her left foot when Vadim drops it. Y/N was sobbing noisily when she heard the ping of a video starting.
“Hello, Avengers. My name is Vadim Ivanov. Don’t bother looking it up because every file of mine has been erased. Your beloved Y/N is sitting here, avaiting for your guys’ arrival and I am giving you 12 hours to find us and give us vhat ve vant. As each hour goes by, she vill get hurt. Currently, she is suffering from a concussion, a broken kneecap, a broken vrist, and possible broken toes. I accidentally dropped the hammer. Oops?” he let out a loud laugh. “You have 12 hours to find us. If you don’t come by the time those 12 hours are up, she vill be dead. Your time starts now.”
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers imagines#steve rogers#captain america x reader#captain america imagines#natasha romanoff#tony stark#marvel
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Chapter 3
WARNING: Language, mention of sexual abuse, hint of murdering
“The police wants to interrogate her.” … “She’s just a child, they can’t interrogate her now. She just went through the most traumatic experience anyone can imagine.” … “What are you colouring sweetheart?” … “She hasn’t spoken a word since they found her.” … “Does she have any family?” … “Not a suitable one. Her uncle was charged with molesting her two years ago.” … “Fucking hell!” … “Foster care then.” … “What a lovely colour you chose for your drawing.” … “Poor girl, she must be fucked up in her head.” … “Shh… she can hear you.” … “Doesn’t matter, she will forget this by next week. She’s too screwed to remember anything of this by the time she grows up.”
I unlock the door to my apartment and walk in. I throw my jacket and bag on a chair in the corner and make my way into the kitchen to get something to drink. As I enter the kitchen, a small package is waiting for me on the countertop. I freeze in my tracks and stare at the small brown box with a white card on top. I keep my eyes locked at it as my heart thumps against my chest. What the fuck?
I rush into my bedroom, throw myself down on my knees and pull out my trusty Glock 19x I have fastened under my bed. I check the magazine and rack the slide. My years of training with Carter, local policeman and best friend, is going to pay off.
I stand up and check my bedroom first, the closet, the window and behind the door. Nothing. I continue around the apartment, one room at a time, tip toeing around with the gun held high, my finger resting on the side of the chill material of the gun. As I search around, I feel my heart is beating insanely fast and all I want to do is to run, but I know that won’t do.
I can’t find any sign of an intrusion and make my way to the kitchen again with the Glock in hand. I pick up the small white card and read it.
If curiosity killed the cat,
it was satisfaction that brought it back.
I furrow my brows as I stare at the card. Nothing is signed. I place the card down and open the box. My eyebrows shoot up when I see what’s inside.
My phone rings. I jump and tumble back. I grab hold of the ledge of the countertop to keep my balance. “Fuckin’ hell.” I curse out as I try to stuff my heart down in my chest again. I pull my phone out of my back pocket and answer the phone. “Alessa.”
“’Ey Alessa, it’s Carter. You okay?” The familiar voice makes me smile.
“Yes, I am good, just startled me.” I try to laugh it off as I stroll into the living room.
“Sorry about that. I just wanted to see if you would like to grab some dinner tonight and watch a movie.” He asks.
I look out the window of my living room and down on the streets below. As I open my mouth I hear his police radio go off. A female mumble through the radio.
“10-4, go ahead dispatch.” Carter replies. More mumbling from the radio. “10-9 please.” More mumbling. I can’t catch a single word. “Roger, 10-49, over. Hey Alessa, I gotta go, rain check on that dinner, alright?”
“Sure.”
“Alright, talk to you later.”
“Bye.” I hang up and sigh out in relief. “Thank god. I really need some time to myself. I have an article to write out as well.” I say to myself as I realise I am still holding my Glock. I shake my head and place the gun on my coffee table and walk back into the kitchen.
I walk over to the counter and reach into the box. I pull out an old, taupe and worn notebook. It has a simplified eagle with spread wings on the cover and with scribbles of what I believe to be German. I flick open the book and let my eyes float across the German writing. I have no idea what it all means, but I feel a bubble of determination build within me; I need to find out. But before I do this, I need to find out who sent me this, and more importantly, how the hell it ended up in my kitchen.
I open my laptop and begin to work on my article while listening to the interview I had with Integra. I didn’t feel the anticipated intimidation I expected from her. She was calm, and yes it was somewhat uncomfortable, but it was a rather pleasant experience. I wouldn’t mind having another interview with her, but considering it took me three years to get this one and the way she threw me out today, I don’t expect to be invited in quite some time. It didn’t matter though, I finally got what I wanted and my full article, that I have been working on for about five years, is coming to a completion. Some more research should tie everything neatly together.
The unknown book I got today is prickling the back of my mind. I have a feeling it is tied to everything that happened 31 years ago. I should have a readthrough before I decide to hand in my work to the editor. My initial plan was to have this published at the 30th anniversary, but I was too desperate to have an interview included, I chose not to publish it.
As I tap away on my computer, I keep glancing over at the notebook beside me. The curiosity within me slowly eating me up. I chew on my bottom lip as I stare at the book. It has to have been from the occurrence from 31 years ago, what else could it be? But how did it end up here? In my kitchen? Who sent it to me? Could it have been Integra who sent it? As an apology for suddenly pushing me out? No, that doesn’t sound like a thing she would do. Perhaps it was Carter, he knows I live for this stuff. But how would he get his hands on this?
I furrow my brow and dart my eyes back and forth between my laptop and the notebook. Fuck it. I grab the book and begin to translate whatever is on the cover as well as the content of the book. Trusty Google Translate is handy to have in this dire time.
As I flick through the pages, slowly translating each sentence, I come across pictures that seems older than 30 years, almost 90 years old if I am to estimate.
One of the pictures is of short and plump man in a Nazi uniform. Behind him stands taller men in the same uniform. They are all wearing the SS officer caps. I shudder at the picture, feeling my whole body squirm inwardly. I flick the picture over and see a small note scribbled down in black ink.
Die Schutzstaffel, SS-Standartenführer, SS-Obersturmbannführer, SS-Hauptsturmführer und SS-Sturmbannführer, 1942
I flip the picture back again and gloss over the faces staring back at me. I shake my head and place the picture back in the book and flip the page. I feel unease as I continue to look through the notebook. I have never felt like this before. Usually I feel excitement whenever I have an opportunity to learn something new, but this book, these notes and pictures makes me feel… what does it make me feel? Disgusted? Ill? Gross? So many words, but not enough to truly explain my feelings towards this newfound knowledge.
I close the book and get up from the chair in the living room. I make my way to the kitchen to finally get the glass of water I initially wanted earlier. I lean on the counter as I take a sip from the glass. Maybe I should call Carter. Just to thank him for the book. I nod to myself and return to the living room and pick up my phone. I dial Carter’s number and wait to rings before he picks up.
“Sup, Alessa.” He answers.
“Hey, I just wanted to thank you for the book you sent me.”
He doesn’t answer and I hear the recognisable sound of a gun cock.
“Am I calling at a bad time?” I ask walking over to the window. The sun is already gone behind the horizon. I must have lost track of time while reading the notebook.
“Uhm…” He draws it out slowly and silently. “No, not really. Just a small routine control of an abandoned shack. Call of some disturbances. It’s probably the old racoon again.” He chuckles. I shift my weight, uneasy spreads within me.
“How did you get it to my kitchen? I don’t believe you have a key to my apartment.”
“Get what to the kitchen?”
“The book.”
“What book?” He sounds confused as his mind is occupied.
“The book you se…”
“Hold on…” He interrupts me and I feel my ear sharpen in on the sounds in the phone. “What the…” I can hear a door creak open. I furrow my brows as I listen intently. “Holy fuck!” Five gunshots. Screaming. Carter! In a reflex I jolt my phone away from my ear. “Fucking god! Help!” Carter scream from the other end.
“Carter?” I ask as I hear his screaming. “Carter!” I yell out. I hear ripping and gurgling before the line cuts. I stare blankly at the phone. CARTER! I hastily redial his number and chew on my bottom lip as I wait for it to be picked up.
Eleven rings. It’s picked up. “Carter! What happened?” I frantically ask as I shuffle back and forth in the living room. “Carter?” I call out his name, a hint of uncertainty lingers behind. All I can hear is breathing. “Ca-carter?”
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
My eyes shoot open in horror. Who the fuck is that? It was a silvery male voice. Not Carter’s. Even though it sounded like a threat, I couldn’t help the slight tingle in my ear as his words reached my ear.
Before I can utter a word, the call is hung up. When I try to call back, no one picks up. “Fuck… Carter…” I breathe out as I cover my mouth. “What the fuck do I do?” I pace back and forth in my apartment. Fuck fuck fuck… Carter… What the fuck do I do? I flick through my phones and open up my Buddy app. I touch Carter’s icon on my phone. His last location is still available. Don’t worry Carter. I am on my way.
#writing#ao3#fanfic#fanfiction#original character#original female character#original male character#integra hellsing#hellsing#hellsing ultimate#the major#vampire
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i started thinking about that gay bastard oc of yours. platano. can u tell me about him
omg u wer thinkgin about platano..... mr banana man... mr 4011. i am obsessed with the banana code srry i just got back from work (it was good :-D)
any way. um. im going below the cut. he kidnaps people and he murders people and i hate him because he’s also a massive weeb so. hm
HISTORY OF PLATANO... yea his name is spanish for banana
his father, pablo, will probably get a name change someday but i literally never think of his father since the only thing he did in platano’s backstory was disappear
since platano’s world has characters based off like. fruits and vegetables (there aren’t really any limit to what the characters are based off of. it was in my lazy google translate name phase so we have like... a gay character named arcenciel who becomes dadlike through my powerful canon-changing touch. also arcenciel wears the colors of the rainbow as often as he can i haven’t figured out a good design for him since i’m not used to using more than 5 colors. he also owns a hat factory)
i think arcenciel and platano are friends they met when platano was like. 17 probably and arcenciel would be around uhhhhh ummmmmmm 21??? idk man but in canon he’s probably around 30 . yes i m saying “in canon” because i wrote a really dumb and horrible story back in 2018 arcenciel used to have HUGE internalized homophobia and i turned that into a running joke and i dislike that so that’s a reason why i’m not sharing the fun little story i wrote for my friends
(the best part of that story is when arcenciel threw his light-up rainbow heelies at platano, thus starting the boss fight which the main cast LOST.)
ok back to the topic at hand. platano.
i have a whole doc named platano where i just wrote drabbles about him so i’m going to summarize them
the first one was his friend, percisi (my only cishet oc he’s very short and very aggressive while also dressing in a soft-colored turtleneck since he’s based off of peaches) using a misunderstood form of satanism to summon satan. guess what percisi and platano summoned satan for. it was a manga update! wow
i won’t say the mangas name it was an inside joke
so platano was like “hey satan can i have this manga now please please” and satan went “sure just kill people for me”
that determined platanos job for the next 7 or so years <3 wonderful.
(it was basically me writing a backstory for a scene to happen in the main writing i wrote for my friends. he killed someone because someone else in the building was trying to summon satan. very confusing but okay i guess.)
i think right after that i wrote about platano meeting his boyfriend, sage, for the first time. i have horribly mixed feelings about their relationship since it’s very. Hm.
so platano kidnaps people to watch anime with him because all his friends left him and his best friend, mangue, is too busy being a dictator over the Land of the Fruits. i shit you not fruits oppressed the vegetables. i wrote that dynamic between the two because i was learning about the revolutionary war in US History. something like that at least
(the Land of the Fruits is not the official name)
on the topic of kidnapping people. guess who his favorite person was. sage. it was sage. so he tried to take sage often but they probably discussed Proper boundaries since everyone else tried to run away. hmm i am now going to write a bit right now
“Platano,” Sage started. “Why do you keep kidnapping me? It’s rude and I hate it.”
“What else am I supposed to do?” The yellow-haired fool leaned on his sword, digging the tip deeper into the ground.
“ASK ME IF I WANT TO HANG OUT??”
“I can do that?”
“You keep making my dads worried.” Sage looked around the area, fidgeting with his hands.
“Oh. Okay. Want to hang out? Watch some anime?” Platano paused for a moment, but managed to say “Maybe kiss?” before Sage got to answer.
“I- KISS??? We can watch anime together. We can go now.”
Sage ushered Platano through a portal as fast as he could.
His dads were never worried.
hmmm maybe that’s alright idk i’m a little tired so it’s probably a little out of character. sage probably isn’t that loud but i think it was trying to be the dynamic of “oh, we’re not dating” when they kiss every sunday at 5 pm by a romantic river scene
he’s a character who is, at his very core, horrible and bad. he is portrayed in a way i DESPISE but i’m too lazy to correct it. his interest in sage actually started with me going “hmm i think platano would draw sage like this” then sauce giving me fun facts about his oc, sage, yea sage is sauce’s oc <3 epic win . so sauce gave me fun facts about sage and i was like “time to doodle these in platanos ‘art style’” when in reality it’s just the mockery of people just getting into an anime art style, with the chin so pointy it could cut a cake
i might reread my old writing from 2018. i gotta agree with the judges for that year i did not write very well
it mightve actually been made in 2017 which would be FUCKIN CRAZY im gonna check rn
yea it was started in 2018. february 14th... huh . finished it completely in june of that year it was 41 pages total and it’s not even double spaced how did i write something without double spacing it
OH MY GOD BOB IS GOING TO HIJACK THIS RANT JUST FOR A LITTLE
so bob is a fluffy little anthro cloud with a grey top hat and bowtie. he is amazing. i love bob. bob is another one of sauce’s character and mangue (mentioned earlier) was made by my friend jamie
(you can always ask for their tumblrs but i’d ask them if its okay to share their tumblrs. i might just look at them and reblog their stuff cuz i like their art!!! maybe jamie posted a drawing she made recently on her blog but tbh i don’t think she would she’s more of a twitter user)
ok so im skimming thru UMG which is the story it stands for “Universe of Magic Gardens” and it was originally made for a prank on ponytown so people would go “what’s UMG” and my friends and i would be like “ur mom gay xDDDDDD” or something like that . horrible but i’m glad i’ve changed from . that.
here’s a bit i actually like AKLJFISJFIO
“What the actual FUCK, Ilkie?!” Arcenciel cringed in fear. “Put it back- it’s too ugly.” He pointed at Platano, whose arms were crossed.
why is it bolded. anyway.
i just saw a part where eau used y’all... water cowboy moments <333 i really need to make refs for all of those old characters. all of my umg-related characters have to be my oldest-living ocs.
i cant believe this is making me genuinely reread my old writing just to go “WJHFSIDAJKSFIOJ WTF????”
some of the lines on it sound like something you would hear on like. a school bus or somethin
looking at umg like “wtf how did i add so much Meat to this writing” bc most of my writing now is mostly quotations to progress the story (like the quickie i wrote earlier. i could add meat to it but im tired lol)
OK THIS IS MORE GENERAL BUT MY FAVORITE THING ABOUT THIS WAS WRITING HAIKUS FOR PORTALS. after you visit a place enough times it’s kind of just an instinct to open a portal there so you don’t have to recite a haiku
uhh ok here’s another bit becuase im feeling like living la vida loca. ur biggest regret should be “can you tell me about him” by this point bc i’ve written too much to go back now
He landed on his face once he was outside of the hat. Meko quickly walked over to the guest room, opened the Portals for Dummies book, and flipped to a page. It looked devious.
“Banana, mango,
Each tasting amazingly.
A taste of evil.”
Meko did the dance on the page, it consisted of something that looks like it’s from an anime. A portal opened, the familiar scent of bananas and mangoes coming from it. With some hesitation, Meko stepped in. He quickly made it so only his head peeked in.
it wasnt bolded this time but i like it bolded. ok i understand how i added meat it was just shitty expired meat ALKFSJSHDAIUJKFEIODSJAK . it wasnt even that much meat DAMN. it just looked like more.
actually that’s all i will write. i could do more w platano but yea at his base he is a blonde twink who kills people because he wanted a manga but now he’s friends with a dictator. woo! wow. amazing character writing. i cant wait to get motivation to rewrite everything and make platano a good villain (he will still be very interested in anime sadly. idk why around that time i liked making characters who were obsessed with anime i didn’t even watch it much myself. i think it was because i wanted to put capes on them)
#I REALLY WENT SLIGHTLY OFF-TOPIC#like i went broader then refocused in at the end#so if you want the basics its just. right at the end#my brain's out of work mode now it's going into the deepfry machine#melon-official
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french in 1.5 years anon
Kinda random but I just found out that I’ll be required to be intermediate/advanced in French by the next 1.5 years; ALL I KNOW IS THAT MEIRDE IS A BAD BAD WORD! Idk if you’re a native speaker but I was wondering if you could provide me of any good French language resources (or language in general since I’ll be needing to learn Arabic soon as well), and like tips for language learning and how to go about it? Sorry to bother you haha this is MY stress but I appreciate any help! Have a great day!
HEY. so i really fucking dropped the ball on this one, i’m sorry. 2019 has been one health fiasco after another (or more like the same fiasco again and again) and i kept telling myself i want to sit down and make a proper post for this, until i realised that that’s just never going to happen given the way things are rn. and i’d rather give you a quickly-written post which is actually helpful than never write that perfect bullet-pointed one.
first of all, i’ve been in your EXACT position (so no, i’m not a native speaker) except i had about...six months to go from je m’appelle teesta to voyez-vous, le problème qui se cache derrière tout ça n’est pas le manque de respect mais la personne dont il s’agit or whatever. i was like, i can so do this. (spoiler: i didn’t, because i was 18 and overconfident and stupid and didn’t actually know how to learn a language.) GOOD NEWS: having learned 3 more foreign languages since then, i am now REALLY GOOD at learning languages REALLY FAST. 1.5 years is a good amount of time, so don’t stress.
i’m going to go generic on this, with some extra tips about french since i speak it, unlike arabic.
first thing, that typical thing everyone hates to hear but knows is coming from the mouth of an accomplished person (pat on my back) in any field whatsoever: you’re going to have to work really hard and practice like fuck.
there’s just nothing else that can replace it. i’ve filled up notebooks and notebooks with japanese verb conjugations, once i did like 1800 of them in one sitting. but you better believe that a bitch will never forget those now. resign yourself to putting in at least three hours of your day to this until you get to the level you need. (and three hours is...kind. at my peak i was literally reading through french dictionaries at the library, 10 AM - 8 PM. i treated it like a workday.)
now, what you need to establish is: are you a hands-on learner or a digital one.
i don’t really care for all the auditory learner and visual learner stuff, i don’t know about anyone else but i personally used those as excuses to avoid certain exercises. unless you have actual disabilities preventing you from accessing certain methods of learning, you can train yourself into anything. it’s a matter of practice. i could barely understand a new song without reading its lyrics first, now i eat up podcasts.
SO. the question here is different. a hands-on learner, like i used to be more or less throughout my bachelor’s, is someone who absolutely cannot retain information unless they’ve written it down BY HAND at least once. pen and paper. (i’m still like this but i’ve learned to combine it with digital methods to go faster.) if this isn’t a hurdle for you, congratulations. your process is going to go that much faster, at least for french. (you’ll have to spend hours practicing your written arabic however, if you’re not familiar with the script.)
now, if you’re a hands-on learner, you need to add an extra hour to your daily time. no matter how fast you write, you will take that time. and you cannot shorthand your way into languages. you need to understand how french is spelt, what accents it uses, that they put a space before exclamation points, question marks, and semicolons. (side tip: learn the IPA. it will be useful to you forever in language learning, at least for the romance languages.) i’m not gonna teach you how to make notes since i’ve never benefitted from copying someone else’s style, so if you don’t have a set method start establishing that. you need regularity and rhythm when you learn a language. my grammar notes look the same regardless of the language. i don’t have my french ones since it’s been years and i didn’t take good ones then anyway, but here’s my japanese and russian stuff.
JAPANESE NOTES // RUSSIAN NOTES
now, it bears mentioning that these notes are NOT the notes i take when i don’t know shit. these are final level notes. they’re brief, idiosyncratic, and only reminders. something to refer to when i’m revising and suddenly forget a rule. the first notes i make are much more elaborate, whether they’re pretty or not. i’ve gradually lost the fucks i had about really going ham on academics so my russian notes are very messy, but my japanese ones from back in the day are magnificent. here’s a look. during lesson one i realised that japanese and my mother tongue, gujarati, are syntaxically similar as shit, and i started taking notes with references in gujarati. it sped up my learning process 2x while my french classmates were still going “BUT WHY IS IT LIKE THAT”.
PRACTICAL GRAMMAR // THEORETICAL GRAMMAR
if you plan to learn more languages in the future, this will be so valuable. sometimes a phrase i learn in russian doesn’t make sense in its french explanation, but a phrase in english might use the same logic. bam, put down the translation in english then. you get what i’m saying? the more languages you learn, the easier it gets to learn languages.
now if you’re a digital learner, i’ve got great news for you. duolingo and anki are your best friends. duolingo’s memed to hell and has a system that might not work for everyone, but they’ll do the brunt work of compiling grammar notes for you in the beginnings/ends of their lessons. note those down and transform them into anki flashcards, and you can learn grammar concepts without doing 20 exercises. (do those exercises if you can, though, nothing beats mindless practice.) now anki is an intimidating-looking but actually super intuitive app that basically builds digital flashcards for you and shows them to you in a rhythm based on your own learning speed. it’ll show you the front of a card, let’s say merde. you say the english translation out loud, shit, and hit enter. correct! was that easy? anki’ll show it to you in 10 minutes. hard? it’ll show you in 1 minute. super easy? merde won’t come up again until tomorrow. eventually you get so good at it that you can bury a card for 2 months. anki will also show you the same cards reversed, which is harder but trains you better. you’ll see shit and have to remember what it’s called in french, which is more difficult than you’d think it is.
you can use anki for more than just vocab, like i mentioned. it’s a little tricky learning to convert grammar concepts into front/back flashcards, but you can do it. for example, here’s a sample of one of my russian grammar cards:
front ^^
back once i hit enter^^
see? not that difficult. now don’t be an idiot like me who manually entered every single flashcard into anki. you can find pre-made packages online (but you can’t guarantee they’ll be correct) or you can make your own without killing your fingers. what you wanna do is open up a spreadsheet and make two columns, A for front of the card and B for back. it’ll look like this:
then you’re gonna save that spreadsheet as a .CVS (comma separated values) and import that into anki. bam, your flashcards are made for you with half the effort. there’s also a script floating around somewhere to make excel translate words automatically for you, but i don’t recommend that unless they’re really easy words. google translate can fuck up. reverso is your friend.
you need to review your anki cards every day. it’ll take less and less time as you go along. i can review 300 russian cards in 15 minutes now. but you need to keep the rhythm going. download ankiapp and sync your cards, review them on commutes or in the hallway or whatever. trust me, it’s magic.
apart from this, if a traditional textbook helps, go for that. i’ve always used textbooks and workbooks, more as supports than as principal methods, but it does help. it’s structured and organised and these people know how to train you. bescherelle is a good go-to for french.
media is always a great way of immersion too, until you get to the country itself. it’ll show you how french people speak french. when i first came to france i didn’t have that experience and even though i spoke an arguably decent amount of french when i got here, it was like, if this is french then what the fuck was i learning in high school. if you like watching movies this is your chance. watch the classics first so that you can get an idea of french pop culture. amélie (though the pop culture aspect here is about shitting on it) and les intouchables, for starters. watch your favourite films, first subbed, then subbed and dubbed, then just dubbed. i watched all ten seasons of friends with french subs, it was wild. with music you want to start off with some indie-ish singers since they will universally sing softer and slower, making things easier to understand than idk, la tribu de dana. (if you’re into bts there’s a hilarious video of their baepsae choreo set to la tribu de dana.) anyway - angèle, cœur de pirate, céline dion, fréro delavega, uhhh that fucking french sufjan stevens. what’s his name. VIANNEY. don’t fucking listen to biglo and oli or like, fatal bazooka right away. you will not understand shit. i barely understand it. white people are wild. ooh listen to stromae. orelsan too, he’s a rapper but he has a relatively clean diction imo. he also sang the french opening for OPM. they call him orelsan-san in japan.
last but not the least: if you have the opportunity to interact in french with people, DO IT. native speakers will do their best to help you and be kind about it. people who learned french might sometimes be assholes from experience. it’s a whole superiority complex thing, and very hypocritical. anyway - online or IRL, wherever you can practice your french, do it. it’ll be immensely helpful. there’s nothing like the frustration of not being able to express simple things to get you motivated to get better. do your best to immerse yourself - changing the language on your devices can make a difference too.
i think that’s all i have and again, i’m sorry for taking this long to finally deliver, thanks for your patience! if you have any specific questions don’t hesitate to hit me up, on anon or not.
good luck - it’s not going to be the easiest but nothing is as gratifying as beginning to understand the workings of a language. you’re gonna love it!
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The Interloper - Part 4 (BTS) (Poly)
Summary: BTS has a new member…and they’re not happy about it.
Pairing: BTS x OC (poly)
Word Count: Ongoing
Genre: Angst/ Fluff/ Eventual Smut
Any images are not mine and belong to their creators (Translation: Blame Google, not me :P)
Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3
A/N - This part was inspired by a joke that was made in a group chat I was in at the time. I know it’s not all that realistic, but I couldn’t help just running with it. Hope at least someone likes it!
I awoke with a start, the sound of shouting antis ringing in my ears from my dream. It was dark and I could feel arms around me. I panicked, trying to pull away from whoever was holding me, but the arms only tightened, one hand moving to the back of my head to cradle it.
“Eun, it’s okay. It’s just me. It’s Yoongi. You had a bad dream,” a voice whispered near my ear. I struggled more, frightened at being so close to someone who hated me, the nightmare fresh in my mind. “Calm down, you’re safe, remember? We’re sharing a room. You can trust me.” Suddenly the events since I had arrived at the dorm flooded back to me and I felt the adrenaline disappear from my system as fast as it had come, slowly allowing myself to slump against him and his hand to guide my head to the crook of his neck. It was then that I realised I was still on his knee just as I had been when I first went to sleep.
“What time is it?” I asked softly, mimicking his volume. If he was whispering it was a safe bet that there was a reason for it.
“About 3:30, I think.” I squeaked in alarm. That meant we had been sitting there for over 6 hours. Surely he must have been incredibly uncomfortable.
“Why didn’t you wake me? You must be sore as hell!” I scolded, only to be met with a small squeeze and a chuckle.
“Why am I not surprised?” I frowned to myself and he must have felt the movement of my brow because he poked me in the side. “We treat you like shit, you get the shit beat out of you by antis, Namjoon pretty much flips his shit at you, and what do you do? Worry about me. No wonder you irritate Joonie. You’re too damn nice.” I couldn’t help giggling slightly at the backhanded compliment and was shocked when he tensed, looking down at me suddenly. “Holy shit,” he muttered, what I could see of his face in the faint light from the moon outside showing an almost comical expression of shock.
“What?”
“I just realised. We’ve known you for weeks and that’s the first time you’ve laughed. Hell, except that first day, and earlier, I don’t think I’ve even seen you smile.” He paused, his face falling. “Were we that bad?” he asked softly, as if afraid to hear the answer. Despite his kindness, I couldn’t help wanting to get a slight bit of revenge and gave him an icy glare.
“5 minutes after we met, you guys were talking about how ugly I was.” He cringed. “I spent my birthday by myself while you guys went out to a noraebang. I graduated from my online course and you guys don’t even know I was taking one.” He stared at me for a few moments, then pulled me close again, this time into a proper hug, clinging to me as if trying to make up for weeks’ worth of mistreatment.
“Minnie-ah… If I’d known we were that bad…”
“You’d have done the same thing, because you did know. You just didn’t have any reason to stop.” He seemed to slump slightly but suddenly pulled back, taking my face in his hands.
“Well, now I do. The next person who tries to mistreat you is answering to me. Got it?” I nodded. “And first thing tomorrow, we’re planning a massive celebration for all the stuff we missed. Your birthday, your graduation, wait, what were you studying?” I giggled at the sudden change of thought process.
“A few things. Ancient Korean History, Literature, Philosophy, and Music.” He stared at me, eyes wide.
“Shit, girl, is there anything you didn’t take? You’re going to make Namjoon look bad!” I smirked.
“That’s the point.” He burst out laughing, quickly clapping a hand over his mouth to stifle the sound.
“Aw man… How did we end up starting out so wrong? We could’ve been talking like this all along.”
“I know how. You’re a bunch of assholes.” My expression was deadpan, and he nodded with a sigh.
“Yup. Got that right. We should get some sleep though. Wanna share?” he asked suddenly and I looked up at him, shocked. “We’re already on my bed,” he explained with a shrug. I took a deep breath, considering his words for a few moments. Logically, it wasn’t an unusual suggestion. The others shared beds all the time, after all. The only difference was gender and the fact that, until a few hours ago, they had hated me. Finally, I nodded.
“Okay, but you’re explaining to the others if they see.” He chuckled, edging away from the wall and turning to lay down, the movement settling me naturally beside him.
“You got it.” He rested his head on the pillow, pulling mine a little closer to ensure it was settled comfortably. “You good?” I nodded. “Good, now go to sleep. My ass is killing me.” I exploded in laughter, turning quickly to bury my face in his shoulder, the first thing I could think of to muffle the sound. Thumping a fist against his chest in complaint, I felt it shaking with his own silent laughter as he grabbed my wrist to stop me before he elbowed me in the side. “Shut uuuuup. You’re gonna wake the others.” I took deep breaths through my nose, forcing myself to stop laughing, though the odd giggle still escaped. “Sleep. Now. Be good.” I nodded and closed my eyes, barely noticing I was still curled up with my head on his shoulder and my wrist in his hand.
The next morning, I was awakened by a soft voice rumbling beneath my ear and curled up a fraction more, nuzzling into the soft pillow cradling my head.
“See?” the voice murmured. “She trusts me. Let me do it.”
“When was the last time you treated a cut? Look at it. I don’t like the look of it.” My pillow moved a little and I frowned, the fingers that touched the cut on my forehead uncomfortably cool.
“Shit,” my pillow muttered and it shifted, a cool cloth pressing to my skin. “I thought Hobi cleaned it yesterday?”
“He did, but he must have missed some dirt or something. She’ll be fine. It’s just a little red, but I don’t want it getting infected.”
“I dunno, she feels really warm.”
“She’s hugging you, of course she is. You’re like a furnace.”
“Right. Think I should wake her?”
“Yeah, she’ll probably benefit from some fresh air instead of whatever she’s getting through your shirt.” The pillow shifted again, and I felt an arm I hadn’t even noticed was around me start to nudge me gently.
“Minnie-ah… Minnie, time to wake up.”
“Minnie? Where’d that come from?”
“Shush. She likes it.”
“Huh? Since when are you two so close?”
“Since you guys scared the living shit out of her last night with your shouting and I was the only one that noticed she was acting like a puppy you beat the crap out of. Why do you think I had to text you how to pick the lock to get in here? I had to lock it so she’d feel safe.” The pillow’s voice was harsher now and I started to wake properly as it dawned on me that it was Yoongi. Hurriedly, I sat up, rubbing my eyes and bowing quickly to Namjoon. He stared at me in bewilderment at the formality, until Yoongi too sat up, resting a hand on my arm. “It’s okay Minnie-ah. Namjoon just wants to take a look at that cut on your forehead. He won’t hurt you.”
“Of course I won’t fucking hurt he-“
“Shut up!” Yoongi snapped quickly, cutting off the outburst before it could get too far, his hand moving to cover the ones that had grabbed his arm reflexively. “Hey, hey,” he soothed, turning his attention back to me. “Remember what I said last night? Hmm?” I thought back, my mind trawling through our conversation.
“Not me?” I cringed at the ridiculously timid voice that seemed to have replaced my own. He nodded.
“That’s right. Will you let him look at the cut?” I nodded slowly, and Yoongi turned back to Namjoon. “Okay, be gentle, okay? Pretend it’s a fan. A nice one.” Namjoon sighed and nodded, moving closer and kneeling beside me. He gripped my chin gently, turning my face so that he could clearly see the cut, though his eyes flitted down to the skin that was now covered in purple blotches. My own averted quickly, and he frowned.
“Does that hurt?” I shook my head. “Then what… Shit, you really are scared of me, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice unusually soft. I nodded tentatively and his hand dropped from my face, gripping my own. “I won’t hurt you again, I swear.” I turned my head slightly to face him, and he smiled warmly at me. “Hell, if you got Yoongi being that protective so quickly, you have to be a good person. He doesn’t look after anyone.” He chuckled, and Yoongi moved closer, arm wrapping around my waist.
“He’s right, you know. You don’t realise it, but you picked the biggest asshole of all of us to use for a teddy bear. My reputation is ruined.” The cheerful banter had the desired effect and I giggled, turning to hide my face in Yoongi’s shoulder. There was silence for a moment, before all of a sudden a shout sounded from Namjoon.
“What the actual fuck?!” The others came racing to the door, and I turned to look at him quickly, eyes wide. “But she’s…and you…I’ve never…huh?!” I blinked, staring at him blankly. He looked back and forth between Yoongi and I. “That’s our girl?” My cheeks coloured at the term, but Yoongi nodded. “She sounds like that?”
“Yup.”
“But…she’s freaking adorable!”
“Yup.”
“That’s the badass that took me down last night?”
“Yah huh.”
“Holy… Damn. We spent two months missing out on that.” Yoongi chuckled and nodded. The others started edging into the room, keeping their distance cautiously.
“What happened? Is everything okay?” Jungkook asked, and I looked up, nodding slowly.
“Everything’s fine,” Namjoon added with a grin toward Yoongi. “Just… watch this.” Before I could register what he was doing, he reached out, tickling my side and making me squeak loudly before burying my face once more. Again, there was silence, before all hell broke loose.
“Cuuuuute!” Taehyung exclaimed, bouncing on his toes and clutching at Jimin, who simply stared. Jungkook broke into loud laughter, Hoseok doing the same, while Jin stumbled backwards into them, staring in disbelief. “I’m so glad we’re having the” Tae’s voice cut off all of a sudden and I glanced up to see Jimin’s hand over his mouth.
“Time off! We’re having time off. To deal with your bruises. Yeah,” Jimin babbled as he ushered Taehyung from the room, the others following and leaving only Namjoon and Yoongi with me.
“Okay, now that Mom and the kids are gone, let’s deal with this. It looks like it could be infected a little, but nothing major,” Namjoon muttered, cleaning the cut and pressing a dressing over it. “We’ll leave that on for a couple days so it can heal, and then check on it.” Gathering his things, he headed for the door, turning to Yoongi with a secretive smile. “Don’t forget. Half an hour.” Yoongi nodded and Namjoon left, closing the door behind him.
“What’s in half an hour?” I asked, looking at Yoongi in confusion.
“They’re gonna be finished with the guy stuff by then. Pushups, that kinda stuff.” I nodded. It made sense. Jungkook was always in a bad mood, or at least worse than usual, if he didn’t manage a morning workout. “May as well watch some tv while we wait,” he muttered, grabbing a remote and switching on the small tv I hadn’t even noticed the day before. Immediately, the sounds of one of my favourite anime were filling the room and I flopped onto my stomach to watch, looking back at the small chuckle behind me.
“What?”
“You look like Tae. He does that exact same thing.” I grinned.
“Best way to watch cartoons.” He raised an eyebrow and lay down next to me, considerably more gracefully than I had.
“Huh… You’re right. Weird.”
Half an hour later, when the show had finished, he pushed himself to his feet and stretched with a groan, holding a hand down for me.
“Guess it should be safe out there now. Think you can brave it?” I eyed the door nervously, suddenly feeling afraid now that the prospect of leaving my sanctuary was before me. “I promise you’ll be safe. I’ll stick with you,” he said softly, squatting beside me. “You don’t have to be scared. We all know you did nothing to deserve how you were treated. We’ve learned our lesson.” It was impossible not to trust him now that I knew how kind he could be, and I took his hand. He pulled me to my feet, letting go when I suddenly yelped in pain. “What is it? Your arm?” His voice was almost panicked and he quickly pushed aside the tshirt on my shoulder, examining the skin carefully. The grimace on his face told me all I needed to know.
“Is it bad?”
“Well, it’s not great,” he muttered, his fingers resting gently on my shoulder. “Looks like someone hit right on the joint yesterday. It’s a really nasty bruise. Looks almost like when I fractured my shoulder.” I squeaked quietly at the thought and he quickly hushed me, resting his palm gently over the joint. “I’m sure it’s not that, though. Just a bruise on the bone, I bet.” I nodded slowly, feeling nervous at the thought of a fracture. “Hey. It’s fine. Even if it did turn out to be a fracture, which it won’t, the studio has some of the best doctors in the area on speed dial. You’d be healed within a day.” He chuckled, giving me a warm smile, and leaned down, pecking a quick kiss to the bruise. “There. Now it has to be fine. A kiss from Min Yoongi can cure anything.” I rolled my eyes, elbowing him in the stomach and flinching as the movement sent another pang through my shoulder.
“How did I not notice that when I was lying down?” I muttered, holding the arm still with my other hand.
“Maybe you were overloaded from yesterday.” He shrugged and headed for the door, pulling it open. “Now, let’s go get some lunch. It’s way too late for breakfast.” I nodded eagerly and followed him, letting him walk ahead of me. I was far too nervous to face the others alone, even for a few seconds. He entered the living room and moved to the side, the others immediately jumping into view with a giant ‘SURPRISE!’ I squealed in fright, toppling onto my backside and staring at them in shock. They were all decked out with party hats, streamers draped around Tae and Jungkook’s necks and party horns in both hands.
“Wh…what?” I mumbled, wide eyes darting between them all.
“Yoongi told us,” Jin said apologetically by way of explanation.
“Happy graduation!” shouted Jimin and Hoseok, followed by a “Happy Birthday!” from the others. Namjoon came toward me, plucking me from the ground and carrying me into the living room. He set me on the sofa, and I was finally in a position to see the copious amounts of wrapped presents littering the room, as well as a beautiful birthday cake resting on a table beside the tv.
“How did you do this?” My voice was barely above a whisper as I looked around, my eyes welling with tears. Even on the rare occasions I had celebrated my birthday with others, I had considered myself lucky to have a present. Here I was, in my bandmates’ dorm, surrounded by what easily amounted to ten times the largest number of presents I had ever received, from the men who had hated me until a couple of days previously no less.
“We called in a couple favours,” Jungkook explained as he sank down to sit on the floor in front of the couch with a grin. “Told some people what we needed and they picked it up for us.”
“This is all for me?” Jin nodded, setting a present on my knee.
“I suggest you get started, or we’ll never get to the games today.” The promise of games immediately made me grin and I began to make short work of the parcels. Before long, I was surrounded by piles of clothing, books, dvds, games, stuffed animals and other gifts, and had shed so many tears of gratitude that I started to wonder if I would end up dehydrated.
We had eaten dinner and cake and were seated in the living room, all slightly tipsy from the beers that Jimin had seen fit to give as one of his gifts, when Jin announced that it was ‘time for the games’. I had no idea what he meant, but apparently it was a common occurrence, as the others whooped with glee and all grabbed cushions, sitting in a circle on the floor. I was about to follow suit when Yoongi, who was seated nearest, grabbed my wrist and pulled me down onto his knee with a grin.
“Thought you were gonna get a different seat today?” he teased, the others oohing at the behaviour. I shook my head, cheeks colouring. It was one thing to be sitting in his lap after the day I had had yesterday, in the solitude of our room, but another entirely to be doing so in front of everyone. He chuckled, wrapping his arms around my waist to stabilize me as Jin set a bottle in the centre of the group. “Truth or dare,” Yoongi explained in response to my look of puzzlement. Jin took the first turn, the bottle pointing to Namjoon. The leader chose to err on the side of caution, requesting Truth.
“Would you eat a habanero pepper if it was covered in chocolate?” Jin asked and Namjoon groaned, resting his face in his hands.
“You ask this every time, and every time I tell you no! God, stop trying to get me to eat your experiments!” He grabbed the bottle with a glare in Jin’s direction, spinning it with a vengeance. Next was Jimin’s turn, and in true Jimin fashion, he chose a Dare.
“Okay, I dare you to eat Jin’s chocolate habaneros.” Jimin’s face paled and Jin crowed with delight.
“I’ll make some first thing in the morning!” he cheered as Jimin grabbed the bottle, spinning it before he could risk any further evil. It pointed toward Yoongi and I. I looked at my ‘chair’ as I realised the problem.
“Who is it?”
“You can go first, I’ll take the next one,” he answered with a smile, and I turned back toward Jimin.
“I choose Dare.” Jimin’s eyes widened and he looked toward Tae, who gave him a smile that made my stomach sink. “No, I choose Truth!” Tae’s head shook immediately.
“You can’t change your mind! Only way you can do that is if you forfeit, which means we all get to do something to you.”
“Last time, Hobi got sprayed with silly string,” added Jungkook matter-of-factly. I thought carefully about my options. I could risk chocolate habaneros, or I could face the forfeit. I had already been beaten up, nothing could be worse, could it?
“Then I forfeit. I can’t handle spicy food. It makes me sick.” Tae grinned, turning to Jimin.
“Should we?” Jimin nodded.
“It’s only fair. We’ve all had to at some point. Only fair she has to. Except, I have an idea…” he added with an evil smirk, jumping up and hurrying from the room.
“Why do I feel like I should have taken the peppers?” I whined, pouting.
“Okay!” Jimin shouted as he ran back in, waving a scarf. “Put this on! Over your eyes.” He handed it to me, and Yoongi helped me to tie the scarf over my eyes, checking to make sure I couldn’t see.
“You’re not going to tickle me, are you? Coz that’s just mean.”
“Nope!” chirped Jimin. “You’ve seen the variety shows, right?” I nodded. “Okay, you know those challenges where one of us has to kiss another on the cheek?” I nodded again, feeling my stomach sink once more. “Okay, we all get to kiss you. Properly. And you have to guess which of us is which.” I felt my blood run cold, Yoongi’s arms tightening a little.
“Are you sure about that, Jimin? It’s not really fair to kiss her after the way we’ve treated her.” Jin’s voice was filled with concern, and I felt Yoongi nod in agreement.
“Exactly! We treated her badly. Women like to be kissed. We should kiss her.” His voice was so deadpan that I couldn’t help wondering if he was more drunk than the rest of us.
“I’m not sure your logic works, Jimin-ah,” Hoseok argued, but Yoongi chimed in.
“Actually, it kind of does.” He took a deep breath. “Kisses make you care for someone. Whether you want it to happen or not, they do. It’s scientific or something like that. What better way to make sure we don’t hurt her again than by caring for her?” My eyes widened behind the blindfold at the betrayal, but I felt a hand reaching up to toy with my hair and frowned in confusion. “Besides, I kind of want to do it,” he added, a little more quietly.
“That’s settled then!” shouted Jimin. Immediately, I was lifted off Yoongi’s knee and set on a cushion, my bearings well and truly messed up. “We each get to kiss you, in whatever way we think is best, and you have to try and figure out who it is.”
“Lips only?” a voice asked, though I had trouble working out whose it was.
“Nope, but only shoulders up.” I squeaked at the criteria, suddenly feeling a lot more vulnerable than I had. I felt a hand on my shoulder and almost jumped out of my skin, though the voice by my ear set me at ease.
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on everyone,” Yoongi murmured, and I nodded my thanks. A moment later, I felt a hand on my arm, and then a pair of lips were pressed to mine tentatively, lasting only a moment. I grinned as soon as my lips were free, chuckling under my breath.
“That one’s easy,” I chirped. “Jin!”
“How’d you know?!”
“You’re so shy. You’re the only one that would be that respectful. Thank you,” I added, holding out a hand. He took it, gripping it tightly, but though I expected only that, I found myself being kissed again, this time more urgently, a hand slipping to the back of my head as a tiny groan sounded from just in front of me.
“There…” he muttered breathlessly as he pulled away, releasing my hand. “Let it never be said I don’t know how to kiss a woman.” I sat there, stunned, and shook my head quickly.
“N-nope. Not gonna say that.” I cleared my throat, suddenly realising just how real this was. Soon, I felt another hand on my arm and steeled myself. I was quickly grateful I had. Another pair of lips touched mine, this time very different. The touch was sensual, a hand gently resting where my neck met my shoulder, tracing light patterns on my skin as the lips trailed to the other side of my neck. I bit the inside of my lip to stifle the moan that was threatening to escape, though as the mouth touched the skin over my pulse, I felt it curve into a smirk at the way my heart was racing. When he pulled away, I thought carefully, though partly to give myself time to recover.
“J-Jungkook?” I stammered, only to be greeted by a chorus of cheers.
“She’s good at this!” I heard Hoseok say, and Jungkook piped up.
“How?”
“You smirked. You’re the only one who *always* does that.”
“…Shit.” I giggled, feeling proud of myself, but quickly found the giggle stifled by a passionate kiss, a soft growl easily telling me who it was, though there was so much eagerness to it that I wasn’t about to cut it short. Almost as quickly as it started, it was over, a forehead resting against mine as he panted against my lips.
“Namjoon,” I murmured, and was rewarded with another, this time gentler.
“Guess I shouldn’t have been so…me,” he muttered with a chuckle as he released me. I shook my head, my own chuckle echoing his. Soon, another presence was in front of me, the lips that met mine so gentle that I almost didn’t feel them at first. I didn’t need to even think about it.
“Hey Yoongi,” I murmured as I broke the kiss momentarily before my fingers found their way into his hair. The kiss deepened, and I couldn’t fight an almost inaudible moan, Yoongi’s hand moving to the base of my neck to pull me closer as he answered with one of his own, far more noticeable, if the whoops from the others were to be believed. He pulled away reluctantly, pressing one last, tiny kiss to the tip of my nose.
“Good guess,” he teased, and I shook my head.
“What can I say? When you spend the night next to a guy, you learn his man-stink,” I teased back, the others bursting out laughing at the insult. I grinned, but quickly felt a pair of teeth lightly nipping at my bottom lip as I was slowly pushed backwards, one hand slipping to my back to keep me from falling. My back hit the floor and the new lips began to move against mine, alternating between kissing and nipping until I was almost hoping it wouldn’t end. Fingers tangled in my hair as the lips moved to continue their behaviour on my neck, the digits the only clue I had to the man’s identity, since he was careful to stay silent. This time, I couldn’t help it. My neck was my weakness, and a moan sounded in my throat as I leaned my head back, eager for more contact.
“Well, I guess we know what she likes huh?” Namjoon muttered with a dark chuckle. There was a thud as a hand hit the person kissing me and he sat up, pulling me upright again. I struggled to regulate my breathing, and guessed at the only person I could think of.
“H-H-Hobi?” I asked, praying I was right. I felt another tiny peck on my neck and a small laugh by my ear.
“Bingo.” I took a deep breath, feeling a soothing hand rubbing my back.
“You okay?” Yoongi’s voice asked, and I nodded. “Took you by surprise?” He was giving me an out, and I gratefully took it with a nod.
“Okay, since you already know the last two have to be me and Tae, you’re not allowed to guess until we’ve both kissed you. Okay?” Jimin’s voice intruded on my thoughts and I nodded reluctantly. I was feeling nervous again now. The others had gotten progressively more daring. I could only imagine what else lay in store. Yoongi’s hand left my back, and almost immediately I was being kissed as gently as if I were a china doll that could be broken by the action. A hand slipped to my waist as his tongue brushed my lips, coaxing its way between them. Though the kiss deepened, it lost none of its gentleness, and I was surprised to find myself missing the contact when it ended. I wasn’t given much time to dwell on it, as almost as soon as the kiss was over, I was being pulled into a lap, my legs straddling the ones supporting me. I heard a faint ‘hey’ from Yoongi, but was soon unable to focus on anything else as I was pulled close to the last man’s body, his mouth capturing mine in an almost feral kiss. His teeth tugged on my lip, causing enough pain to elicit a whimper as his hands moved to my hips, pressing me against a bulge that was definitely not unresponsive. The fingers gripping me tightened and the kiss grew more intense until finally I felt a hand on my shoulder. I could only assume the same happened to whoever was kissing me, as he pulled away reluctantly, tongue swiping against my lower lip one last time before I was released.
I was quickly pulled into another lap, this one familiar, and I leaned into Yoongi’s chest as I thought carefully. There was the chance that they were trying to mislead me, but I knew I would only end up giving myself a headache if I tried to think along those lines, so decided instead to go with my instincts.
“The first one was Jimin, and the second was Tae. Right?”
“Damnit! What gave it away?” Jimin exclaimed as Yoongi peeled the blindfold from my eyes and I blinked rapidly to get used to the light.
“I can’t imagine you being *that* aggressive,” I replied, my face flushing at the memory of Tae’s kiss. Namjoon burst out laughing, and Tae and Jimin both pouted.
“I could be if I wanted to,” Jimin muttered and I smiled at him.
“And if I wouldn’t want you to?” I said innocently, my smile broadening as his face coloured. “That was a really sweet kiss. I liked it.”
“What about the rest of us?” Hoseok blurted out, and I nodded.
“All of them. They were all nice, just different.”
“So you liked kissing all of us, huh?” Jungkook asked, his eyebrow raising as he smirked. My blood ran cold and my eyes widened.
“Scuse me!” I yelped, hopping off Yoongi’s lap and racing for the bathroom, locking the door behind me as soon as I was inside. What had I been thinking? Clearly the alcohol had addled my brain, or at least made it less able to watch what I was saying. I sank down with my back to the door and groaned. I could hear the others chatting in the living room, though their voices were low enough to be indistinguishable. I could only imagine what they were saying. No doubt mocking me, if their usual behaviour was any guide. The whole thing had probably just been a prank to see how gullible I really was, and I had fallen for it.
#the interloper#interloper#bts#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#bts angst#bts kim seokjin#bts kim taehyung#bts kim namjoon#bts seokjin#BTS jin#bts yoongi#BTS suga#bts min yoongi#min yoongi#suga#bts jhope#bts jung hoseok#jhope#Jung HoSeok#bts jeon jungkook#jeon jungkook#BTS jungkook#bts namjoon#BTS rap monster#rap monster#BTS jimin#park jimin
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Jefferson/Reader - Part Two
Here it is everyone! I was up all night typing because I was in the groove. I hope everyone enjoys it as much as Part One. Thank you for all your support 💜
@butlinislin @musicalmoriarty @daveedish @insane-hamilton-imagines @notthrowingawaymyfood @crazypurplebananas
@small-stars
@imagineham
@crazypurplebananas
@hamiltryingmybest
@hammyhamfanfics
@ahhhhamilton
@witch-bitch-coven
@icanneverbesatisfied
@lunaaugurium
Pairing: Jefferson x Reader
Time: modern college AU
Word count: 2775
I use Google translate so I hope the French isn’t butchered… 🤞
When you walked across the courtyard it didn’t take you long to notice Hercules and John were already waiting for you to arrive at the group’s normal table. They were scanning the area trying to spot you.
“Here we go…” you say to yourself taking a deep breath.
“(Y/N)!!” They both chorused as they jumped up to hug you.
“Hey! What’s up? Where is Laf?”
“Laf has class so he isn’t here. I think you know what’s up… spill,” John said with a scowl.
Hercules was standing next to John and was uncomfortably silent. When you looked up at him you could tell he was incredibly angry. The larger man was not someone you wanted to cross and ever since you had befriended the fashion major he had become your protective older brother.
“Just sit down and when Alex gets here I will tell you the whole story,” you say sitting down at the table.
John and Hercules followed suit and sat down. You slowly pulled out your sandwich and started to eat it. You were painfully aware they were both staring at you impatiently. The tension in the air was thick.
“ALL RIGHT I WANT TO KNOW WHAT THE SON OF A BITCH SAID!” Hercules shouted, drawing attention from a few students sitting at the other tables.
“Will you keep your damn voice down!”
“Hey, hey, hey, we have arrived,” Alexander said cheerfully.
Eliza took a seat next to you and threw you a sympathetic look. Alexander sat next to Hercules with a rather smug look on his face. There was no doubt he was looking forward to watching the reaction your story would receive.
Alexander folded his hands under his chin and said, “I believe you owe these guys a story (Y/N).”
You took a deep breath and began to tell them what happened when you went into economics class. Hercules was shaking with rage at the comments Jefferson made. John was shocked but laughed when you told them what you had told Jefferson and how he had reacted. Eliza put a hand on your shoulder supportively and gave you a small smile.
“Wow… I can’t believe he would say something like that. You really told him you wouldn’t come near his cock for all the money in the world?” John asked slightly amused but you could hear the edge of anger in his voice.
“I know right? It took all my self control to not lose it right there,” Alex seemed proud when he spoke.
“Herc?” You ask quietly. He was shaking, but had yet to say anything.
“I’ll fucking kill him with my bare hands, I swear to God,” Hercules said slamming his hand down on the table.
“Calm the fuck down Hercules! I think I effectively handled the situation. He basically ran out of class and couldn’t even look at us. I love you, but I’m capable of defending myself! I put him in his place! That asshole isn’t stupid enough to come within a mile of speaking to me again after what happened, ” you said with a scowl.
“I suppose you’re right. He wouldn’t dare try to do anything, I’m sure he knows you will tell us what happened and he knows we always have your back,” Hercules muttered.
“Oh what? Come on guys we have to come up with a way to get back at Jefferson for this? He will see what we can do to him!” Alexander sounded extremely determined.
You look at Eliza. She was shaking her head at Alexander’s antics. You lean over to her and whisper, “Please do something to shut him up.”
“Alexander! I think that’s enough! (Y/N) did an amazing job putting Jefferson in his place and you’re making a scene. Stop trying to instigate a fight, it’s already over,” Eliza scolded.
Alexander looked like a child who had been put in time out. “Sorry, sorry you are right. It’s been handled.”
“So… Herc I heard you started on a new design project. Tell me about this dress you’ve been assigned to make,” you say trying to steer the conversation away from Jefferson.
As Hercules begins to talk animatedly about the dress he was designing and grabbed his sketch book out of his bag you mouth “thank you” to Eliza. She sends you a wink in response. When lunch ended you received a hug from everyone and you started walking to your writing class. Half way to class your phone buzzes letting you know you had a new text.
Fashionista: 3:00pm - I know you handled the situation, but if he says anything like that to you again… nothing will hold me back. -
(Y/N): 3:01pm - Love you too Herc -
Angelica was waiting for you in her usual seat in the writing class you two shared. The rumor was that (Y/N) had let Jefferson have it in economics so badly that he had actually skipped his next class. She couldn’t wait to question you to find out if what everyone was talking about was true.
As you walked into class you noticed a few people stop talking and look at you. You quickly sat down next to Angelica, who had a knowing smile plastered across her face.
“Let me guess… you want to know what happened in economics class?” you ask with a smirk.
“You’re damn right I do! I’ve been hearing all kinds of things the last hour and a half.”
“He was degrading Alex again so I stood up to him,” you reply nonchalantly.
“Girl don’t you try to jip me like that! I know there is more than that. Spill it.”
“He might have told me to suck his dick and I may have told him not for all the money in the world…” you shrugged.
“Oh my god! Are you kidding me?! I can’t believe it, good for you! No wonder he skipped his next class…” Angelica gushed.
“He did what?”
“You heard me, he didn’t show up to his next class.”
“Holy shit,” you whisper with wide eyes.
You must have affected him even more than you thought. After the two hour writing class you were stir crazy. You hadn’t been able to focus on the lesson. Angelica’s admission to you that Jefferson had actually not shown up to class had you distracted. Why would he do that? He never missed classes. You walked out of class, said a quick goodbye to Angelica, and slowly walked down the halls. As you ate dinner the argument replayed in your mind over and over. The only thing thinking about it accomplished was to make you even more confused about the whole situation.
“A walk is what I need,” you say to yourself. You pull on your jacket and step into the cool evening air and begin to wander with your thoughts.
Thomas Jefferson walked up to the entrance of the library and checked his watch. 7:10pm. He pushed the door open and walked through the shelves of books heading toward the back. As he got around the last shelf he saw Lafayette seated at the table reading a book.
“I didn’t expect you to be here yet.”
Lafayette snapped his book shut and tucked it in his messanger bag. He looked up as Thomas sat down across from him. “Class ended earlier than I expected mon ami. You said you had something important to talk to me about?”
“I trust that you have heard what happened between (Y/N) and I this afternoon…” Thomas trailed off, slowly making eye contact with Lafayette.
“Oui. Alexander wrote me an essay about it.”
Thomas grimaced, “I figured as much.”
Lafayette didn’t look amused as he raised his eyebrow at Thomas, “Care to explain what happened?”
“I don’t know what happened! I was arguing with Hamilton and all of a sudden there she was. She jumped right into the fray and I was so wrapped up in the argument I never thought that she would be fluent in French. It’s idiotic looking back to think that since she is your friend and Hamilton is fluent. It came out of my mouth so fast and I figured it would rile him up… I never thought she would understand me!” Thomas looked exasperated.
“Have you, how you say, considered apologizing?”
Thomas looked at Lafayette with his mouth slightly agape. “I told her she should wrap her mouth around my dick! Something tells me a simple I’m sorry isn’t exactly going to cover it. Even if I tried to apologize she would never believe me. What am I going to do?” He dropped his head into his hands. “You know how I feel about her! She just told me off without a single ounce of hesitation and it only makes her more attractive…”
“Maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation if you stopped always trying to belittle Alex. You know (Y/N) will jump to his defense. Perhaps back off a little,” Lafayette suggested.
“You know as well as I do that Hamilton starts just as many arguments with me as I do with him. I’m not going to sit by and not defend myself!”
“Mon ami, you could try to control the way you respond to Alex. If you refuse to stop bickering with him, there is another way to fix this…”
“And what pray tell is that?” Thomas seemed curious.
“You could let (Y/N) in a little bit. She thinks you are nothing but a pompous asshole, you could try to show her different. This armor of arrogance and indifference is doing you no favors Thomas. You claim you care about her but how is she supposed to see that, if you do not let her in.”
Thomas seemed lost in thought and Lafayette hoped he was seriously considering what he had suggested. As Thomas was muttering to himself about options Lafayette’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw an unread message from (Y/N).
(Y/N): 7:40pm -Hey Laf. Are you busy? Can I meet up with you and talk?-
Lafayette sucked in a breath and sat his phone on the table. You wanted to meet and talk too? Should he tell you to meet him here? It was the usual spot that he would meet you when you needed to talk. Another message.
(Y/N) 7:43pm -If you are busy it’s okay. I’m just not in a good place emotionally right now, I can call Angelica and vent if you can’t meet up.-
Lafayette: 7:43pm - Non mon ami. I can meet up. I’m in the library, our usual spot.-
(Y/N) 7:44pm - Sounds good. I will start heading that way. I’ll be there shortly.-
Lafayette looked up from his phone and saw Jefferson with his head bowed and his fingers tangled with his curls. “Je suis désolé. I didn’t catch what you said Thomas.”
“I said there is no way I can do that! I can’t just let her in! How do you expect me to do that? I can’t give Hamilton a single bit of ammunition to have against me. There has to be another way, she wouldn’t let me get close enough to let her see anything and I’m not willing to take that risk,” Thomas declared.
You pushed the doors of the library open and made your way to your usual table. You had assumed the walk would help you calm down, instead it just made you more angry and confused. Laf was a voice of reason and you could talk to him about anything that bothered you. At this point you had lost count of how many times you had met him at the table in the back of the library to vent about anything you possibly needed. You looked up and stopped dead in your tracks. There was Lafayette at the table just like he promised, but across from him was the one person you did not want to see. Jefferson. You seethed at the sight of him sitting there. Lafayette was looking increasingly irritated until he snapped at Jefferson. You weren’t close enough to hear their hushed conversation and didn’t want to take the risk of being spotted yet. Judging by Jefferson’s hasty retreat from the conversation you could only assume Lafayette had put him in his place for how he had treated you.
Lafayette let out an angry sigh. He had tried to help Thomas but he had reached the end of his rope. His eyes steeled and he glared across the table with crossed arms.
“C'est votre propre faute que vous êtes dans cette situation. Si vous n'écoutez pas la raison, décrivez vous-même!” Lafayette hissed, reverting to his native tongue showed his anger. ( It’s your own fault that you are in this situation. If you won’t listen to reason, figure it out on your own.)
Thomas was taken aback. He rubbed his temples as he stared at the Frenchman. He stood quickly and gathered his jacket.
“Je ne peux pas m'en occuper maintenant. Ça me donne de mal á la tête. On se voit plus tard Lafayette,” was all Thomas uttered before turning and heading toward the door. ( I can’t deal with this right now. It’s giving me a headache. See you later Lafayette. )
“Imbécile,” Lafayette said under his breath.
Jefferson had barely gotten out of sight when he heard her voice. He immediately stopped and peered around the bookcase. He saw you stroll up to the table with a scowl on your face. He held a bit of hope that he may be able to smooth things over until he heard you greet Lafayette.
“What did that asshole want Laf? What did you just say to him?”
“I only told him what he needed to hear.”
Jefferson backed away from his hiding spot and turned on his heels and quickly made his way to the door. As he pushed the door open he whispered, “ Maybe Lafayette is right…”
You aggressively pull out a chair and throw your bag on the floor as you sat down. You looked at Lafayette. After your long walk overthinking the “situation” as you had decided to call it, it threw you off even more to see Jefferson.
“I just can’t believe him Laf! I mean I know you’ve heard everything already because of Alex, but I’m just so irritated. He was the last person I wanted to see right now!” you vent while gesturing in the direction he had left. “You should’ve seen it Laf! He was so smug, but then he looked so ashamed! It’s infuriating! Can you believe that for a second I considered that he was actually sorry for his comment to me?! I want to punch him in that pretty face.”
“It’s possible that he is,” Lafayette reasoned. (Y/N) looked scandalized at the idea.
“Oh come on, you can’t honestly believe that! That arrogant piece of shit has never been sorry for anything in his entire life. To him the whole world should bow at his feet, he can do no wrong,” you claim rolling your eyes.
“That’s not entirely true (Y/N). He really isn’t that bad, but you will never see any of that unless you let go of your hate and actually look.”
“Seriously Laf, that is ridiculous. If he had any redeeming qualities I would have noticed. I know you got to know him while he spent the summer in France, but that doesn’t obligate you to defend his character,” you say with a smirk.
Lafayette ran his hands down his face and swore in French under his breath. “It’s not that I feel obligated (Y/N), it’s the truth. He really has a lot more to him then the person he lets you see.”
You scoff, “So you would have me believe he is secretly a good person under that mask of superiority? Yeah okay,” you laugh, earning a judgemental look from Laf, “Well it’s getting late and I have a test tomorrow. I’ll see you later Laf.”
As you walk away you hear Lafayette groan that causes you to look over your shoulder. He was redoing his bun and looked exhausted. When he got the elastic in place he shook his head in disappointment.
“Ils sont tous deux si obstinés qu'ils ne verront jamais qu'ils sont vraiment pareils,” Lafayette said. ( They are so stubborn that they will never see how alike they really are. )
You feel anger raise again at his comment. You turn quickly and rush to the door. Lafayette didn’t know what he was talking about.
“We are nothing alike.”
#jefferson x reader#thomas jefferson#alexander hamilton#hamilton#fan fiction#college au#college au hamilton#tjeff x reader#a.ham#hercules mulligan#john laurens#lafayette#angelica schuyler
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Into Wonderland Chapter Five: Pomefiore Part Three
TW: Violence and descriptions of death
"Look out!" They hear someone yell, followed by a yelp and a thud. Mc whips around to see a small boy rolling off Neige, who is unconscious on the ground.
"Neige!" They drop their apples and rush to the boy's side, rolling him onto his pack and propping his head onto their lap. They smack his face a few times, but to no avail.
"Oh no-" The lilac haired boy rushes over to them. "I-I'm sorry- I didn't mean- you weren't-" They boy stammers.
"It's fine, he's just asleep." Mc sighs, smiling up at the pretty boy.
"Ah- about-" He runs his hands through his hair frustratedly. "Fuck..." he swears.
"What?" Mc asks, nerves creeping into their voice and making it shaky.
"Vil's gonna have my head!" He groans.
"Vil?"
"Yes! That pompous bastard took me in after th' meeting and made me do his bidding-"
"What was his bidding?"
"Hell if I know-" The boy sighs. "He wanted me to poison this kid who I can't even find- I'm not a murderer!" He shouts again.
"Okay, okay, first off, you found him, second off, you juts knocked him out right? You didn't like, plan to jump him from the trees?"
"No! Of course not!" The boy looks offended. "I was just hungry..."
"It's okay, here, help me get him back home-" They both pick up the boy by the shoulders and drag him back to the house, the purple haired boy explains that his name is Epel Felmier, and that he was working with Vil to get money to support his family's own apple orchard. Once they get back, they lay Neige down in the bed, allowing him to sleep for however long he would be out.
"Neige?" Hop, who was standing in the doorway with his brothers behind him, calls. "Is he okay?"
Mc nods. "He just hit his head pretty badly." Epel awkwardly shuffles his feet, biting his lip as he stands in the corner of the small cottage.
The dwarves crowd the bed, offering little remedies and tricks to try to make him feel better. A cold gust of wind bursts through the doorway and everyone turns. To Mc's horror, the beautiful blonde man stood there, purple eyes glaring down the small farmer boy who stood next to Mc. He jumps a bit, shuffling behind the other human as he looks up at the man. Rook looks at the two apologetically, standing in the doorway behind Vil.
"What...?" Mc gasps as the man pushes them out of the way, standing over the sleeping boy.
"I gave you one job!" Vil lashes out at the boy. Mc bites the inside of their cheek and steps in front of Epel, who makes a surprised sound. Vil raises an eyebrow, scowling at them.
"Listen here! I don't understand why you want Neige dead so badly, which I have my own problems with, but don't make someone else do your dirty work for you!" They argue. Vil, to their surprise, scoffs and bursts into a small smile.
"I've learned my lesson with that, little one." He glares at Rook and Epel, who both look down at their feet. The dwarves try their best to pull Mc out of the way, not wanting them to get hurt. "I suppose you'll never quite understand the pain that comes with beauty."
"It can't be any worse than the pain that comes with, oh, I don't know, dying?!" They fight back, a little bit braver than they had been before.
"Sweetheart-" He grabs their chin with his perfectly manicured hand, tilting their face up. "You'll never see the countless nights of never being enough, the pain of mutilating yourself simply to fit a mold of perfection, the standard you're held at day in and day out. Soon enough, Neige will feel the same." He leans in closer to them, his breath brushing their ear, making them recoil. "He will become a shell of his former self. He can't possibly handle the pressure. Soon enough, he will crumble and face death sooner rather than later." A shiver runs up their spine as they take a step back, bumping into Epel, who grabs their arm to steady them.
"So you have to kill him for it? Something he can't even control? He's not like you!" Mc clamps their mouth shut.
"Not like me?" The man asks, voice laced with venom.
"Maybe he won't f-feel that pressure!" Epel tries to cover for them. "Or if he does, he at least has someone with experience to help him through it!"
"I'd still rather not watch my younger brother turn into a shell of his older self reaching for perfection, if I can do it for him."
"Then do it for him! Let him live his life and hide him away from whatever perfection you think he has to get!"
This makes the man think. Why am I constantly negotiating with murderers? Mc thinks, knitting their eyebrows on their forehead.
"You don't have to kill him to protect him! That's just stupid!" Vil stares at them, lips slightly parted in shock as his eyes go wide. A groan is heard from the bed beside them as the black haired boy sits up and stretches, wincing and rubbing his forehead.
"Mc?" He calls out blindly, rubbing his eyes. He blinks a few times at the scene in front of him.
"Vil?" His eyes well up with fresh tears as he launches himself at the man, wrapping his arms around his waist. "I-I thought you died! Why didn't you try to find us? What was the danger?" The man scoffs and pushes the smaller boy off him, giving him an expensive looking handkerchief to dab at his eyes with.
"Clean yourself up." He states. "And meet me outside once you're done. We're going home."
"You're..." Toby trails off, sniffling. "going home?"
Everyone else looks at him expectedly, and he tenses up, smiling softly. "I have to. I'm so thankful you all let me stay here-"
"Come visit!" Hop yells. Neige giggles and nods, patting the boy on the head.
"Of course I will!"
"What about you, Mc?" Dominic turns to them. "Are you going back with Neige?"
Mc takes a deep breath and shakes their head. "I-I think I have an idea of what I have to do now. I'm afraid we part ways here-"
"Forever?" Neige whispers, voice cracking.
"I-I'm not sure, actually." Mc looks down at their feet. Neige pulls them in for a warm hug, shaking in their grasp.
"Thank you for everything-"
"Hurry, Neige, it's going to be night soon-" Vil calls from outside. Everyone says their goodbyes and Mc turns to Rook and Epel as they make their way out of the cottage.
"Rook?" They call out to the blonde, who turns to them. Vil and Neige walk farther ahead, outside of earshot and talking solemnly to one another.
"Oui?"
"I need you to kill me."
"What the fuck?" Epel pulls their arm. "Didn't we just go through this?!"
"It's the only way for me to get home." They say confidently as Rook looks down at them, jaw dropped. Epel stammers, shaking their shoulders.
"Are ya dumb or somethin'?" He scolds, aggressively releasing their shoulders from his hold. "You could stay with us! If you don't want ta stay in the castle I'm sure my folks would have no problem with you working on the farm!"
They smile sadly and shake their head. "I'm sorry Epel, but I have to get to my real home." The boy looks at them in shock, bright blue eyes wide as his eye twitches.
"You- you- I-" He sputters, silenced by a hand on his shoulder.
"Do you truly believe that this is the only way for you to get home?" Rook whispers. Mc nods, hands shaking at their sides. "It's happened before- worst thing that will happen to me is I black out and wake up in the next land. This is my fifth time doing this, Rook, Epel."
"If you truly believe it-" The man unsheathes a long dagger that glistens in the sunset. Epel grabs Mc and tries to pull them back, lecturing them quietly and trying to pull them away from the man. Most of his words turn incoherent as panic takes over him.
"Epel, please," They put their hand over his and smile. The boy still shakes. "If you have to just... look away, okay?" He gulps and nods, taking a step back.
Rook approaches them calmly, though they can see the tremors that course through his body. "Thank you for everything, your soul is... truly a pure, beautiful thing..." He slowly raises the dagger, closing his eyes.
"Tell everyone I'm sorry for disappearing. And... thank you, Rook." They close their eyes as they feel the blade pierce their skin and disappear into their chest, the front of their shirt becoming warmer and wet, the cold wind sending a chill down their spine as they close their eyes once more.
This got very very close to being a Neige x reader fic and I had to hold myself back
also pls don't make fun of me for the French i'm really hoping google translate pulled through this time
How do you guys pronounce Crowley? I've been pronouncing it like Cr- ow- lee (like when you get hurt and you go ow!) but my little brothers been pronouncing it as crow-lee and we've just been going back and forth abt it for a hot min.
#Pomefiore#rook hunt#vil schoenheit#epel felmier#neige leblanche#twisted wonderland headcannons#twisted wonderland#twst
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Fanfiction: A Big Fat World Of Inconsiderate People And Bad Clichés
I have an opinion and I want to say it. Final words on the subject.
I started writing fanfiction in 2016, I don't remember how I got into it, I guess I just read a story from a blog and thought: 'This is actually pretty cool.' People seriously wrote and others responded to it. So I got an idea; I liked a character that gets killed in the book/movie and I couldn't deal with that, so what if I changed it? That was my little start and my goal: give him a new life and change his ending.
So I wrote chapter one and posted. One person helped me to promote and then forgot about it when I kept posting the next chapters. I admit it: it wasn't "professional" writing. I was the biggest amateur out there who pretended to be great at it. But I liked it, so I kept going. I must mention that English is my second language so it was HARD and it still is... you have no idea how hard. But I believed in my story, so I kept writing.
Until I saw things weren't going so good. My baby fic was lost in the sea of bigger, older fics and wasn't getting any review, good or bad. I wanted to know what people thought, naturally. So I started talking to people who shared my interest. I told them I was writing too, but I never asked them if they wanted to read it *GET THE HINT* We were following each other so there was no way they didn't see it. I did read their work (they never asked either) and I knew they were excellent, not only they mastered the language, their stories were entertaining AND people let them know so. I mean, literally, they got asks and comments of how A-mazing they were.
That's when a second thought hit me: Why am I not getting any of that? Am I doing something wrong? Clearly I was. And everything went down the hill from that point on. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. Fuuuuuuck. What the fuck? That is the question still unanswered: WHY THE FUCK NOT?
I mean, it wasn't THAT BAD. My plot made sense and had several interesting ingredients to make it likable. Maybe I didn't use the right words and it sounded odd, but it's not like I put my text on Google Translator and let the thing do the job, no, I actually wrote and translated myself. It was easier for me instead of writing the whole thing in English. I guess everyone do it their own way.
I got angry. Period. I got super angry because they were ignoring me, that was obvious. It wasn't a coincidence that they saw all my other posts but not especifically those chapters I shared. So after getting angry I also got jealous. They weren't inventing anything, they borrowed every single thing they wrote about, AS WE ALL DO. But people praised them, put them in pedestals for writing stuff that in the end wasn't so special. Yeah, they're still good writers and their stories are massive hits, so what? More people is joining the party with new stories, but God forbid they get readers, nobody will top THEIR story that nobody should ever think on "steal."
So I deleted my story. Nobody would miss it, so, what was the point on keep updating? I was tired and suffering. Enough of pitting myself, I was being ridiculous. But I couldn't get the story out of my head. I really liked it. And it wasn't its fault that my terrible reaction made it stop. Sooo... I tried it again. I was getting better at my writing so I improved a few parts and changed others completely. After months, nothing happened. It didn't work for me the way it worked for others, I guess I lack the "spark" of great fanfiction writers. So i'm officially quitting but before I do so, I want to say what I learned from it.
1) "WRITE FOR YOURSELF" THAT'S BULLSHIT.
Don't believe it. Don't feel bad for wanting recognition on your writing. If you write for yourself, then those texts should be in your diary with a lock or safe in your laptop and not on the internet. That is not an excuse for not having readers, you're doing art and you share it expecting to get something: words of encouragement, people who support you or promote you, even haters, ANYTHING!
2) IN ORDER TO KNOW IF PEOPLE LIKES YOUR WRITING, THEY HAVE TO TELL YOU.
And 'telling' includes more than "Please post more," "I can't wait for more," "Nice," or any other type of word. 'Silent Readers' you can all go fuck yourselves. 'Cause if the situation was the other way around, you damn right would be feeling the same as me, alone and discouraged. If I wanted a silent reader, I would read it myself. So they can read a 12,000 word chapter but they can't say what they think in 1 sentence? Thank you very much, you made my all my effort worth it. Oh, and by the way, since I don't know somebody likes it, I think nobody likes it, therefore I'll stop posting; so if you did like it, it's not only my loss, it's also yours.
STOP THINKING THAT GIVING A LIKE MAKES EVERYTHING OKAY. IT'S NOT OKAY. THOSE LIKES AREN'T COMPLIMENTING, THEY MEAN NOTHING TO THE STORY. LET'S EXCHANGE IDEAS. NOTHING IN MY STORY MAKES YOU CURIOUS? THERE'S NOTHING YOU WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT? EVERYTHING ABOUT IT IS 'PERFECT'? MY WRITING STYLE IS THE SAME AS 'X' AUTHOR?
It take two minutes or less to tell that writer what you think, to give your words purpose. You will help that person more than you can imagine, it's a good action, and a good action is always rewarded. Please remember that.
2.2) ASKING READERS THEIR OPINIONS AND STILL GETTING NONE HURTS. IT'S NOT A DEMAND (AT LEAST I THINK IT SHOULDN'T BE) WE JUST WANT TO CONNECT WITH YOU, IS THAT A CRIME? WE CAN'T OBBLIGUE YOU, BUT YOU ONLY HAVE TO DO IT ONCE IN THE STORY (OR PER CHAPTER).
3) FANDOMS ARE THE WORST.
I got little to none support from the people who allegedly liked the same as me.
Don't expect users in the circle get your back. Everyone's out there for themselves. You can be lucky and they're actually good, or you can get yourself into a group of bitches competing for who's best (RE: NO ONE is the best).
I relied on them and that was a mistake. Some people aren't willing to give a little of what they also want and get. That's what pisses me off the most: I wasn't expecting everyone to read me and like, just the ones in the fandom; but they weren't even kind enough to tell me they hated what I wrote.
4) FANFICTION SITES ARE THE SECOND WORST.
They have all this material and so much inequality. They just give the options 'favorite,' 'follow,' 'kudos,' etc, and that isn't constructive. It doesn't make a story better than another having countless likes. Not everyone thinks the same, but you're telling people what to think according to those scores. And if we're all doing it for the sake of art, why having those options anyway? Those buttons are there for our ego, they're not indicators nor judges of good writing.
People work hard for this. People read five, ten, twenty times looking for typos and deliver a flawless text. People try, they have a life and obligations, and they still try to be constant and share from a place of love, and you do nothing to help us, it's like everything's the same for you.
5) YOU WRITE, YOU GET FEEDBACK. THAT'S HOW IT WORKS.
6) I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST 'SMUT,' BUT WHEN IT'S USED TO GET READERS, THAT'S LOW. NO MATTER HOW GREAT AND GRAPHIC THE SCENE IS.
7) I KNOW MORE PEOPLE IS IN A SIMILAR SITUATION AS MINE, WONDERING WHY THEY DON'T GET ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING. TO THOSE I'D LIKE TO SAY THAT YOU CAN EITHER KEEP TRYING, HOPING TO GET LUCKY (APPARENTLY GETTING LUCKY IS THE KEY FOR SUCCESS IN THIS BUSINESS) OR STOP SHARING YOUR TALENT AND IDEAS IN PLACES WHERE PEOPLE DOESN'T APPRECIATE YOU PROPERLY. YOU DESERVE BETTER THAN THAT. WE ALL DO.
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Sorry for the late update and no update last week
Trenton and Cass were started playing beer pong with whiskey. Trenton sucked at beer pong and Cass was awesome, but Trenton is a heavyweight.
Trenton, Cass and Czar started a shots match. After a few hours, Trenton got wasted. He’s currently flirting with Mei, while Ana and I are snickering in the corner.
“ So, should we help them?” I said, as Trenton was trying to get Mei’s phone number. Even though he already has her in his contacts.
“ Come on-” he tried to say, but hiccuped. “Cutie-pie give me your digits.” Mei turn extremely red. (not like it wasn’t red already.)
“ Yeah. I’ll take care of Cass” The woman, who told me to call her Ana, said, while referring to my passed out drunk roommate.
“ Okay Trenton, you’ve had enough.” I said, while trying to pry him off of Mei.
“Je ne suis pas ivre, vous stupide pute” He said in french I guess. [Trenton said “ I am not drunk, you stupid whore”].
“Trenton, vous avez mangé un putain de chaussure!” I yelled, but nobody understood what I said. Everyone except Trenton. [I said “ Trenton you have eaten a fucking shoe”. I had meant to say “Trenton you have had fucking enough”]
“Se faire baiser et vous ne savez même pas parler Français. Quoi, avez-vous utilisé google translate, vous stupide pute.” He said to me. [He said “Get fucked and you don't even know how to speak French. What, did you use google translate, you stupid whore.”]
I started going off on him, until, well, I realized he had past out drunk when I started talking.
“ I’m going to go.” Mei said, kiss Trenton on the cheek, then left the dorm.
“ I guess the party’s over,” Lena said “ Bye luv” soon after that she left.
Then Ana grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him into the guest room, followed by Craz.
I finally had a moment to breathe since the incident. I let my hair down, changed my clothes into a big t-shirt and shorts, and grabbed 2 wine glasses, and poured what was left of the red wine into one.
Then the door to the guest room opened, revealing a tired Ana. she sat down, and poured wine into the other glass.
“Well, that just happened.” I sighed as I took a sip, then turning on Netflix.
I woke up on the couch to the smell of bacon, potatoes, and eggs. I got up from the couch and saw Trenton making breakfast with a resting bitch face and Craz was behind him making pancakes. Then I heard hurling from the bathroom.
“ Feel like shit?” I said, getting the plates out.
“ Yeah, what did I do last night?” he asked, putting the egg hash on the plates.
“ Well,” I answered,” You were heavily flirting with Mei and trying to get her number”
“ Oh.”
“ I wasn't done. You also called me a whore in french when I tried to pull you away from her, and Ana had to step in to actually get you off. In short terms, you were a dick.”
“ Crap, Sorry. By the way, they postponed training. You have 2 hours to get ready.”
“ Okay. But who’s throwing up?” I said, making my way to the bathroom.
“ It’s Cass. She’s done hurling, It’s safe.” Trenton said and sat down next Craz. They started talking to each other. I couldn’t hear them though.
“What are you talking about” I asked
“Private stuff” Craz said quietly.
“Okay” I said Trenton got up and took his and Craz’s plates and rinsed them off.
“Bye” Trenton said. Him and Craz left.
When I finished breakfast, I made my way to the bathroom. When I opened the door however, the room heavily smelled like puke. I immediately grabbed the can of Lysol from the cupboard under the sink, and sprayed the bathroom until I could barely breathe from the overbearing smell of the Lysol. I gagged, then I opened the door so the smell could air out.
When it was done airing out, and I was done cleaning the bathroom, I whipped out my phone to take a look at the time.
“ 7 O’clock” I thought, “ I have an hour”
I went back into the bathroom, and sighed with content. I grab my Shampoo, Conditioner, and Body Wash and go into the shower.
I was washing my hair, and somehow thought back to getting into Overwatch.
Codename: Siren
Real Name: Emma Adler
Nationality: American
Class: To be determined
Class: To be Determined
“ Wait, why did it say ‘ To be Determined’?” I thought.
“ Siren, you have 45 minutes!” Cass yelled, probably waiting outside the door.
I step outside, cover myself with a towel, and open the door.
“ Today you have Training with the other recruits, and your instructor is a woman who goes by Zarya. You also take the Class Placement Test and get assigned a weapon.” a tired, yet unfazed Cass told me.
“ Class Placement Test? ”
“ The class placement test is what you take to find out your Class, or group. There are four Main Classes; Offense, Defense, Tank, and Support. After you get sorted, training is personalized for what Class you got into.” Cass answered.
I went into my room when she was done talking. It was the way I left it for the most part. But, I saw some boxes that lied on my bed and a note.
‘ Sorry I was a dick. I apologized to Mei. Anyways, your uniform is in the boxes along with something else. ‘ -Trenton
I grabbed the boxes and sat on my bed. It had a denim jacket with fleece inside and the overwatch logo on one of the pockets, a dark gray tank top, cargo pants, and a pair of combat boots.
“ Wasn't there-” I was about to finish my sentence when I saw a smaller box inside the box that had the boots.
I open it and it contained a pair of battlefield goggles, and another note.
“ Because you have piss-poor vision, and you can’t bring your glasses on missions.” — Trenton
“ Very funny” I said to myself, but still put on the outfit. I put my hair into a messy bun, and put the goggles on my head.
I made my way out of the room, and I was greeted by a crying Cass. I was in a hurry, so I couldn’t console her. I made my way to the Training arena, and at the door I was greeted by an intimidating woman with pink, spiked hair, and a deep scar running along her forehead. She was staring me down at me for what felt like for eternity.
“ Codename?” she loudly asked with a heavy Russian accent.
“ Siren” I tried to say unaffected, but came out as a very low whisper.
“ Jesus Zarya, get off her ass” a voice behind her said. It was Craz.
“ Thank god “ I thought, relieved.
They were having their own private conversation in Russian, I presume, until Zarya instructed me to go into the training area. I swiped my card to go in, and the trainees that were chatting whipped their heads at me.
“Attention!” Craz bellowed at the trainees, who were now listening intently.
“ First is the Battle Simulation Test, Also known as The class Placement Test. We’ll temporarily assign roles and see how you do.” Zarya explained to the now internally screaming recruits.
“ First off, Offense”
We were tasked to escort the payload, and already people were failing. Me and 1 other person actually completed the test.
“ Next, Defense”
We were told to do this time to keep the area, or point, controlled by our side. We did better, but people still went off to “ show off their skills “ and get solo kills.
Czar sighed, then took the trainees that went off aside. They were told to pack.
“ Now We’ll put you in a mock mission to see what role you naturally take.“ Czar said, a bit groggily. It was getting late, as it was 7pm.
We were deployed to Kings Row. We were to escort the payload, which looked like an enormous rocket. It was going as planned, EVERYONE ON THE FUCKING OBJECTIVE, when we were jumped by a tire that was heading straight for us. A man that went by Steven went in front of us, absorbing the damage, so we wouldn’t get hurt. I immediately rush to his side, health pack in hand.
“ You need to take better care of yourself” I scolded when he was back to full health.
In the end, we earned a victory. My team members were ecstatic, picking each other up and swinging each other around. Even Steven picked me up, but I immediately told him to put me down.
We walked back to the training area like tired, dying animals.
“ Excellent Job recruits. Results will be ready tomorrow. Dismissed” Craz said, barely keeping himself awake.
I was walking down the hallway to my dorm when I got a text from Zarya.
(Z=Zarya; E=Emma)
Z: Hey
E: Hey
Z: So I noticed your performance in training today
E: …
E: Did I do something wrong?
Z: No, not at all. Craz and I were talking, and we saw you was a medic-in training.
E:...
Z: Your excellent performance at keeping Agent Steven and the rest of your team alive strengthened our idea.
E: Thank you ma’am.
Z: You looked exhausted when you're dismissed. Get some rest.
E: Got it. Night.
And put my phone back in my jacket’s pocket. I opened the door, and everything was dead quiet.
“ Cass must be asleep by now.” I thought as I took off my boots at the door, and put my jacket on the coat hanger. I quietly made my way to my room to change into a tank top and shorts. With my goggles still on my head, I sat back down on the couch.
I pulled out my phone, and went on Tumblr for a bit. I was scrolling through my dashboard, until I got a text from Trenton.
(T=Trenton; E= Emma)
T: You on Tumblr again?
E: Yeah. What are you doing at 10:30 pm?
T: Just got done with paperwork.
E: Oh.
T: How was your first day of training?
E: Tiring. A bunch of people surprisingly don’t know what the objective is.
T: I know. Was the same when I was training.
T: Did they give you your electronic I.D. yet?
E: No. I think we get it when they assign our class.
T: Hmm. I checked your profile in the overwatch database. You're a medic now?
E: Yeah. Zarya texted me about it not that long ago.
T: Cool. Only 200 out of 593 recruits will become soldiers in arms, and only about 10 will become medics.
E: Cool.
E: Hey, I’m signing off for now.
T: K, bye.
I exited out of Messenger and shut off my phone. Then I passed out on the couch.
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