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louis-ii-reyes-strand · 7 months

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semicompleted saturday sunday

Rules: Share one scene or art that never made it into a/the finished piece and probably never will. (And if you want, share what it was supposed to be and why you left it out or never finished it.)

Thank you @heartstringsduet for the tag! Most of the stuff i've written ends up in the graveyard for one reason or another, which is why i've not posted anything yet. But I like the idea of some of it seeing the light of day.

So, this scene is the only thing i've ever written for this fic. The idea came to me very vividly and this scene in particular, but, as you will see, it's disjointed as hell and I couldn't find a way to make it work.

The premise is that TK and Carlos get into a fight years into their marriage and Carlos walks out to calm down. It's the middle of the night so he ends up sat on a bench in a small park. Then through the power of ✨magic✨ he is sent back in time to important moments in his and TK's relationship and realises how stupid he'd been.

---

Carlos blinked and he was at the honky-tonk, the first day that he and TK met.

It had been years and there were countless other moments they had shared together, but he still remembered it like it was yesterday.

Michelle had been waiting for him outside when he arrived, feeling a little silly in his tight shirt, and a little apprehensive about being invited. But she hadn’t let him linger in those thoughts at all, had started talking to him before he was even next to her, and all but dragged him to the table she was sharing with Nancy and Tim. They greeted him politely, not quite friends but not distant acquaintances either, it wasn’t the first time Michelle had forced him to be sociable.

Then Michelle had launched into her plan to haze Captain Strand. She liked him, Carlos could tell that much, but she was also Michelle and she was going to assert her dominance as Paramedic Captain to make sure the new captain was a good fit for their station.

Carlos quickly made an excuse to get himself a beer while the other three were giggling about her plan. He didn’t want to get mixed up in their politics.

As he walked across the room to get to the bar, he noticed where the new look 126 had set up across a couple of tables.

He remembered feeling just as floored by TK’s everything as he had at the accident earlier in the night, if not more so without the rain to blur his vision. Everything had narrowed to where TK was laughing along with his new co-workers.

Then he had spent so long by the bar, just watching him and how he interacted with the people around him that he finished his beer and Michelle came to find him. She followed his eyeline and then laughed. “You need to get laid.”

Carlos had blushed and spluttered, but this time he didn’t.

It had been half he needed to get laid, and half so much more than that. He hadn’t known how meeting TK had shifted his entire world on its axis then, but some part of him knew that meeting TK was momentous.

“Distract his Dad?”

Michelle considered him for a moment but shrugged and went to drag Owen off to the dancefloor just as she had the first time this happened.

Carlos remembered so clearly the nerves he had felt as he approached TK, not knowing if he was gay, not knowing if he would be into him even if he was. Now, his mind full of memories this body hadn’t yet had a chance to make, all he felt was love.

“Hey,” He said as he came to stand by TK. He looked so much younger, so much more guarded too.

TK glanced over to him, a smile forcing its way off his lips before it could even appear. He gave Carlos an obvious once over that set a fire in his gut just the way it had the first time, maybe even more so now that he knew what was waiting for him. “Hey”

“We’re soulmates.”

TK looked so taken aback by how strong his words were, it made Carlos laugh.

“We’re soulmates and it doesn’t matter that I’m saying it to you now because I'm pretty sure you’re a figment of my imagination sent to kick my ass. I’m going to tell you this now and when I wake up I’m going to drive home and tell you again.” He took a deep breath. “This moment right here changed my life, if you didn’t dance we me then drag me off to that bathroom so we could get each other off, I wouldn’t have reconnected with my family, I wouldn’t have friends that I care for like a second family, I wouldn’t be a detective, I wouldn’t have anything. I would’ve stayed trapped while I waited for my life to start, and I don’t tell you enough how much I love you. I think a part of me has always known that I love you since this moment. And I have loved you at every single moment since, even when you broke my heart and I thought it was going to end up alone forever. I’m sorry if I ever made you doubt that and I’m going to do better. I’m going to do so much better, baby.”

The TK from the past was looking around for someone, probably his dad or anyone else he recognised, looking for a way out of this interaction. Carlos didn’t blame him, he’d just had a love confession from a guy that he’d met once.

“I’m going, don’t worry.” He held his hands up with a smile and started backing away, unable to take his eyes off TK as he did so until he bumped into someone behind him and was forced to look where he was going.

He ran outside the honky-tonky, looked up to the sky and shouted, “Okay! You win! I understand now, let me go home and tell my husband I love him.”

He closed his eyes and waited.

i'm not gonna tag anyone because i have again missed the boat (i'm pulling seven sentence sunday together asap!) so if you see this: hi.

#semi complete saturday #fic outtakes #kit writes #i remember this possessed me for an afternoon but every attempt at writing an actual fic to go with the pay off #was like stubbing the same toe over and over again

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mystery-moose · 7 months

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Someone in my life posed some interesting questions about stories recently! In considering them I figured I'd keep a record of my thoughts here on my tumblr web log, because what void should I holler into if not this one?

First, how I think about stories. I try to avoid thinking about them as morality plays or parables (mostly because this can keep me from engaging with challenging art) but I also don't like thinking about them purely as escapism. Each story has a reason it exists, whether that's entertainment, communication, or contemplation. They're designed to draw out our empathy, communicate a feeling, create a mood. Sometimes that's in service of something important to the author. Other times, it's something meant to distract. I don't judge a story based on its pretensions, or on its naked commercialism -- I try to judge based on its execution, how it's doing what it's doing, and how well it succeeds. There are great artists right now working solely with other people's licenses, doing work-for-hire gigs, and their skills are just as worthy of praise and appreciation as the latest semi-original high-concept novel hanging in the middle of the New York Times bestseller list.

Basically, I think about stories like stories! Or, if I absolutely have to be metaphorical, like buildings. Are the foundations strong? Is it doing anything special? Can I navigate it easily? How accessible is it? That last matters a lot to me, because it doesn't matter how cool the interior is if most people can't find their way inside.

Second, what do I need a story to do to recommend it to someone else? I'm gonna go with "accessibility" at the top, not in the disability sense but the populist one. Yeah, playing to the cheap seats can hurt a story a lot, and you obviously can't please everyone, but ignoring your audience doesn't make me appreciate your story much myself, let alone get me to recommend it to anyone else. You have to find a balance where what you're communicating isn't absolute nonsense to most of your audience. Not all! Just most. Effective communication of your thoughts, feelings, and ideas to a layman is something I think a lot of storytellers could stand to care about more when it comes to honing their craft, and that goes for folks outside of the arts especially. So if I find a story with a big concept, beautiful craft, intense emotion, and it's not too esoteric or inaccessibly written? That's great art in my book, and I'll tell everyone about it.

Next, what do I look for in stories? Now that is a tough one... I guess, beyond sheer execution (if your prose is good enough you can take me almost anywhere) I look for something that makes me care about its characters as it introduces me to their world, and does so without me feeling like I'm being told why I should care about the characters or what their world is like. This goes for everything from period pieces to stories set in places or communities I'm unfamiliar with, just as much as it goes for fantasy or science-fiction. I do generally have to care about the characters in a piece to really devote a significant amount of time to a story, though. If I don't, the other elements of the work (craft, originality, feeling) have to carry a whole lot more of the weight in order to get me to finish something.

What are red flags for me? Honestly, a big one is feeling either preached or condescended to. Even if it's politics or perspectives I agree with, if I feel like I'm being told what to think rather than thinking it on my own, or if I simply think the author doesn't trust me to understand what they're trying to say? I check out. Beyond that, when a story excuses terrible behavior in the interests of forcing me to sympathize with a character the author clearly favors, I also check out. There's other stuff too -- I don't much care for certain tropes when they feel obvious or sufficiently undisguised (at least try to put some kind of spin on it!) -- but those are the big ones I think. If I see those, my desire to continue drops real sharp.

A recent example of a story I really loved, because I try to stay positive: earlier this year I finished a book called A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine, which almost instantly became one of my favorite stories. I had to sit with my feelings for days before I really settled on that, too! I worry about recency bias sometimes, that an impact will dull with time, but Empire has lived in my head since I read it. It's a well-told and compelling yarn that dips into a number of my favorite genres (science-fiction, murder-mystery, political intrigue, thriller) told from one of my favorite POVs (first-person) that also happens to dig into concepts that I find super cool and interesting! Things like history, how it's recorded, who makes it, what matters versus what historians only think matters. Things like the colonialism, cultural imperialism, and the politics of empire -- the pressure of being a small community being subsumed by a larger, more dominant one, the complicated nature of being a person from two worlds, whether by choice or by birth, and so on. It's got a lot of thoughts about that stuff, and it can't touch on all of them with the depth that they deserve, but it knows enough to know there's no easy answer for a lot of its questions, and it manages to make that feel like a natural conclusion rather than a copout. A great novel, and one I recommend to most everyone I know!

One I'm still in the middle of that I need to get back to: Gene Wolfe's Book of the New Sun. That's a work that I think is a bit inaccessible, with characters that I don't necessarily love (the protagonist is a professional torturer, if that tells you anything) but the sheer craft on display... my god. There are whole sections I've read, passages that describe a feeling that I've had before but never put to words, and it expresses them so effectively and with such excellent language that it carries me forward on those passages even when I'm unsure what this person's quest is or whether or not I even like them. And that's to say nothing of the depth of the text itself -- Ursula K. Le Guin famously called Gene Wolfe genre fiction's Herman Melville, and that's been borne out in what I've read so far. I've been listening to the Shelved by Genre podcast as I've been reading the book, and their own insights and analysis illuminate whole sections of the text that I would never have noticed otherwise, or would have without knowing exactly why! Awesome stuff.

#moose blogs #on storytelling #i think about stories a lot #like i think about history a lot #that venn diagram is a circle in my mind #so when i find a story that thinks about the same stuff?#that's the best babyyy

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stan-rabelais-et-diderot · 6 months

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I'm 32, I read all of Cassandra Clare's books, but then again I read a lot of books, so I don't engage in fandom for those books, these pieces of media much, or at all.

So I'm quite surprised & a bit alarmed to see how virulent people commenting & following her work seem to be of the person Cassandra Clare.

She hasn't done or is currently committing crimes she hasn't faced justice for.

She doesn't use the money from her books to fund hate groups.

Therefore, I don't understand why she is the target of so much speech that seem to attack her, as a person.

I think we all know we all share this Internet. Anything we write on a public space, anyone can read. People can read what we write about them. It's fair game to review books, to criticize books, but I'm a bit perplexed by how much more personal it gets for female writers.

Male writers aren't asked about this or that, they aren't being held to the standards female writers are all the time. For the same issuee, of a male writer it will be said that it's "out of their control", for a female writer "they just don't care about" it.

I understand we are passionate & female writers can be shitty, just like everyone else. But what I don't understand is why we have to shit specifically on what we love (or the people who write the things we love). I've never gushed about Cassandra Clare, but I've never said anything negative either. In fact, I don't write about her. I don't know her. I've read her work. That's it.

Authors don't owe us things. It's nice when they keep their word about dates of publication or finishing what they start, but ultimately, buying a book is a gamble. Sometimes it pays off & it's a great book, sometimes it doesn't. We are happy when it's a good book, disappointed when it's bad, but let's reclaim some agency, no one forces us to buy those books. If you don't like an author, stop buying their books, don't read them, leave a bad review explaining why you didn't like the book.

That's acceptable. What's not acceptable is writing personal attacks of writers in public online spaces that can be found so easily that you can be sure the authors sees them too. And it weighs on them.

Personally, I've invested a lot of time reading those books, so I want to stick it through the end. Only a handful to go. I will buy those books because I enjoy the world building (especially the political structures) & if the author decides to retire or not finish the books because she has had too much, received too much negativity, has lost joy in writing those books or for any reason doesn't publish them for any reason related to the people who enjoy her books being shitty to her on the Internet, I would lose something that brings me joy as well. Again, not that big a deal, it's just books. There are more important things. But it's absurd that the attacks come from inside the house. I'm inside the house too, so I thought I should say something.

People think twice about posting. Ask yourself why you are doing it & if it contributes positively to yourself & other people. Be kinder & imagine other people complexly. If you want to attack bad people on the Internet, you can & should join groups that do stuff like monitoring & reporting neonazis, fascists, incels... You can harass politicians's offices in order to pressure them into pass laws to end child mariage or stop wars, you can harass companies into paying farmers higher prices so that they don't enable slave labour or shame the UN for who they are taking money from.

Plenty of worthwhile targets of anger. If that's what you're into. Authors of books, when they don't fund hate groups on the side, are just people who write books. They don't have much power to do anything other than write books. They are people & when they get insulted, they get hurt & sad. Let's remember they are people and write about them on the Internet with the knowledge that they can read what we write & be affected by it.

#seasons of shadowhunters #cassandra clare

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funjidae · 1 year

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~Eruhan oneshot~

┌──── • ─── ◆ ──── • ────┐

Title: Enemies

// NSFW //

The high command had handed down sentences on them, they were the enemies and they had to be executed after completing their work, but, for a man with a serious face now, the dutiful plan did not seem good, because the one who was the leader of that army to which they wanted to errocate was the one that brought him insane, and, exalted to his nerves, the one he had begun to see as a piece of meat without merits and rights when he met her for the first time, but when he got to know her after times of sharing talks, lunches and projects, and when the image of her had gotten so much into his head, he could do nothing more than have wet dreams and wish to have her for himself, that woman had finished him...on his knees imploring everything of her.

Above all, she was like a hostage and could take advantage of it, that thought invaded him sometimes, but he did not count on the fact that this woman with a kind face but a rude character was also interested in him in an intense way.

One day, being left alone after spending hours working on an important plan, they both looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes. Some would have thought that it was a sign of hate, hatred or rancor, but, this was the complete opposite of that...

A tug on his shirt, a squeeze of neck on the female, a rubbing of the legs and the closeness had them lying on the desk where they had been working before, she only had her shirt completely open and he was no longer wearing his suit. A push from her legs forward indicated how much effort the man was putting into her, and with more intensity, at the end the moans turned into a dry plea, the same anguish was heard invading the walls, but she and both him, they were enjoying what they where doing in that office with the low chandelier lights.

She gasped not to do it, she didn't want to put everything at risk, but the more she refused, the more her body urged for him and he just enjoyed her hard nipples just for him and his tongue.

-Erwin stop... Erwin...- Gasped without being able to breathe properly.

She caressed the blond hair making him do more of what she supposedly didn't want... the blond's wet fingers danced on the intimacy that trembled of the nerves of her body. He was wanting for her, wanting no more power.

He raised his face to hers and kissed her, while he did so he played with her body.

-I've been wanting to know how you would moan my name for a while- He brushed his right cheek against hers and came to gently bite a part of her ear.

She went numb at the contact. She couldn't deny at all what those long, thick fingers were making her feel on her. She kept moaning under her breath, wanting to know now how something else would feel inside her.

Was agile and took the man from his arms placing his legs by his hips.

-If you want to know how I'm going to moan your name so much, make me do it." She gave him that look that lets you know that the maximum point of madness and desire have already been broken.

Erwin knew exactly what she was referring to, so he caressed her hard legs from the exercise and took his own member, caressing her first and after a few seconds both were united as one meat. She arched her back, clinging hard to the desk. He started with the biggest game, he wanted to know more than anything else how she was in that state and he was going to achieve it.

The desk creaked every time Erwin entered her, Hange reveled in the blond's first and last name and again; name, surname and position, she moaned loudly and so the sweat ran down her medium-sized breasts. The nails were buried in the wood, the back curved even more, the hair of both bathed in sweat that at the moment that their bodies joined and disjoined they danced... their eyes remained closed with a frown, the veins sagged. they jumped at the blond by force, if someone could be present apart from them, they would know that the forces they were making were too much and all to be able to feel each other again and again.

They murmured when they felt the heat embracing their bodies, the sound of the wood from the desk, her breathing and the sweat bathing them both. It was the perfect scene for their persons, better than the ones he ever dreamed of before, while he caressed himself. pronouncing the name of the chestnut hair.

Reaching the limit, when he began to ejaculate and wanting to take his member inside her, she stopped him with an indecipherable look. Before the arrest he ran inside her, sweating without measure and making him moan along with her, embraced, without pity, they just let themselves be carried away by their nature.

When that had elapsed a few days, they did not say many words to each other and more on Hange's part, she did not want to get involved with him anymore, despite the fact that she left him in a hurry, he for his part acted serene without forgetting what had happened. passed between them, but, just as it began, they would do it again, finding themselves in the same situation, imploring for their actions and the warmth of their bodies.

There was denial and acceptance, doubt and a kind of wild treatment when it came to loving each other alone in that same room with low light lamps or in some moments in their respective bedrooms.

└──── • ─── ◆ ──── • ────┘

#shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #eruhan #eruhan oneshot #oneshot #fanfic #eruhan fanfic #erwin x hange #hange x erwin

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jakethesequel · 9 months

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Trans-Femme Fatale

We were partners, he and I. Private investigators, ace dicks, problem sleuths, whatever way you gab it. Only so many ways to put lipstick on a pig. But I digress. Now he's missing. Three days. Could be dead, far as I know.

All started when that girl walked in. He was out on a case, I was keeping up an important conversation with a bottle of scotch. Girl said she was looking for her brother. Ran away from home in '44 to join up. Good on him. Get away from family drama and kill some ratzis to boot. Except the war's over and nobody's heard from him since. He and his folks, the girl tells me, never much got along, but her brother always doted on her.

New York City, that's a long walk from here. She tells me some actress friend of the girl's moves here a few months back and swears up and down she saw this brother on the streets, but couldn't tail him. So the loving sister comes down to reunite. She tells me the location. It's near my partner's building, so I call him and I'm lucky enough to get an answer. I give him the case, on merit of location.

I never hear from him again.

And the girl, neither. Hotel clerk says she signed out the morning after we met, with an older woman. Possibly a relation, he says. Something fishy about what the girl told me. The mother wouldn't come to find the brother if he was on fire, to hear her story.

No sign of a forced entry or a quick exit at my partner's pad. Hell, all his clothes are still there, so if he ran off on his own, he did it in a hurry. But no note? No nothin', after these years of working together? You'd think I'd earned that much. All's I got to go off of now is the faint smell of a nice perfume hanging low in the air. Fennel. Maybe a clue, or maybe a hooker.

I ask the old landlady if she's seen anyone go up to his floor. He seeing anyone? He ever meet with this girl from New York? She doesn't spy on her residents, she says. I get Andrew Jackson to repeat my questions. She tells me sometimes this dolled-up blonde visits him, late. Looks a little like that New York girl, she says, only with a whole lot more woman. Like I said: fishy.

Imagine my surprise to check back at the office and find this leggy dame sitting at his desk. I'd be pissin mad if she didn't fill those stockings so nicely while she did it. As it stands I just drag my eyes up over the broad's body so I can ask her to her face what she did to my partner. Is he dead? Who's the girl? What's your angle here, lady?

"Dead? No, no, only in a manner of speaking."

I tell ya, I almost pulled my piece right there, joking about this kind of a thing. But it'd be a cryin' shame to ruin a chest like that. I let her sultry voice speak. She starts by telling me she's the girl's sister. Bullshit. The girl told me she only had the one brother. Shut up and let me finish, she says. Yes ma'am, I say. Feisty one. Says her parents always thought they had a son, but she knew otherwise. Don't know how you could make w mistake like that! They made her live as a boy and tell everyone else, too. So she runs off to join the fighting in Europe. Gets denied, 4-F she says. I didn't know they made 'em bigger than a size D. So she does the next best thing: hop a train west and hope there's work wherever you get off. Sets herself up a new identity once she's got living money. Two, in fact. Some people still don't like her being a woman, apparently. A double life: one for work and the other for leisure. When her sister came around looking, she got in touch and explained everything. Apologized for running out on her, paid for her trip back home, even gave her the phone number if she ever needed anything else.

Lovely story, pulls at the heart-strings. She needs a minute to compose herself. I offer her some scotch and she takes it, staining red lips on the glass. Still, I lean forward, I've got to press her: how does my partner play into all this? Is he all right? Is he safe? Is he even alive? Then I catch a whiff of fennel, and I realize. We were partners, she and I.

#trans fiction

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letsplayballet · 1 year

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so uh. this post didn't get a whole lot of attention but it did get just enough for me to start trying to write some other scenes. this piece is pretty different vibe-wise, and i'm pretty sure it's not done, but i'm tired of looking at it so!!

~*~

“Have I told you that my father was a cop?”

Akira stops, losing his mental grip on the rest of the sentence he’d been writing for his literature assignment for Kawakami. Glancing up from the paper, he sees Makoto sitting tense as a coiled spring on his perpetually dusty couch, knuckles white on her pen, staring through the textbook in front of her as if she could see into the café below their feet. If it weren’t for Morgana’s perked ears from where he’d been half asleep on the table, Akira could almost believe that she hadn’t said anything at all.

It had been a little strange, when Makoto had shown up hours early for their planned infiltration of Futaba’s palace. She’s his teammate, and he trusts her implicitly, is willing to put his life in her hands- if she’d shown up that morning asking him to go backpacking across China with her, he would only have asked if it could wait until after they’d dealt with Medjed. But despite all this, they haven’t had a lot of time to spend together individually, and Akira gets the sense that there’s still a lot he doesn’t know about her as Makoto, as opposed to Queen.

And she hadn’t asked to do anything drastic. Hadn’t asked anything at all, actually. Just stood in the entrance to Leblanc silently, exactly 15 minutes after opening, until Akira (remembering all I am is a burden to her, remembering the faintest gleam of guilty relief in her eyes when telling them I haven’t seen my sister in days) finishes brewing coffee for the both of them and just as silently brings her upstairs to his room.

They’ve been working on their summer homework for nearly an hour, quiet but not uncomfortably so. This is the first either of them has broken the silence, and it’s pretty clear that whatever is on Makoto’s mind has been weighing on her for a while.

Realizing she’s still sitting there, tense and unmoving, Akira clears his throat a little. “Once, I think? You said he’d worked the beat in Shinjuku.”

Makoto lets out a long, measured breath through her nose, and her jaw unclenches ever so slightly. It’s another few moments before she speaks again.

“He was. He was actually a really instrumental part of the Shinjuku Cleanup Operation.”

She stops again. Bites her lip. Her pen shifts slightly in her grasp.

“I… Growing up, I thought of him as a hero, you know? Idolized him, even. I didn’t know much about his job, not really, but between the few things he shared and what I would always see on shows, I definitely had this golden, untouchable image of what he did. Hunting down criminals, bringing justice to the world… I wanted so badly to be just like him.”

There’s a faint, fond wistfulness to her tone that makes Akira intensely grateful for her still-distant gaze, forcing his breathing to remain calm and even as he gently sets his own pen down and hides his shaking hands in his lap. For a moment he’s overwhelmed –

that dark, ugly fury rising up in him, blinding, screaming see, you can’t trust anyone, as if anyone would give a fuck about you when you’re nothing –

the sense memories of hands too-tight grabbing pulling and concrete hard and cold against his face –

until his battle instincts kick in and he’s able to bring his mind back to his body in the (conditional, relative) safety of his attic room. This is Makoto. She’s not an idiot, and she’s not frivolous with her words, still learning she can say more than the bare minimum she absolutely needs to. If she’s saying all this, to him of all people, then there’s something important in there.

Thankfully, Makoto has lapsed into silence again, too lost in organizing her thoughts to notice his slip. He can feel Morgana’s eyes on him, though, and makes a mental note to block out his evening for that conversation just as Makoto continues.

“When he-” she pauses once more, swallows. “When he died on the job, a few years ago, I only became more motivated to follow in his footsteps. I was… so convinced that there was some nigh-unstoppable tide of evil out in the world, that the police were gallant figures holding the line, and if I joined the police I could…”

“You wanted to help people,” Akira says quietly, filling in as Makoto trails off. Like you needed to be helped, he doesn’t continue, because maybe he’s projecting, though the resonance of his bond with her makes him think he probably isn’t.

Makoto gives a little self-deprecating scoff, turning to look at him for the first time. “I’m sure I sound like some naive idiot, don’t I? I even-” she barrels forward, frustration entering her voice, before Akira can even think to say anything in response, “- I would see stories of corrupt officers, mistreatment, false convictions, and every time I would write it off, or come up with excuses. But then I met you, and none of my excuses sat right even before I tried to blackmail you about dealing with Kaneshiro, and when his men grabbed me off the street the cops at the corner just watched as they forced me into the car and -”

The pen in Makoto’s hand snaps loudly, causing all three of them to jump as shards of plastic clatter across the table.

There is a long, frozen moment where everyone stares at her still-clenched fist and the crooked end of the pen barely kept in place by her grip. It’s broken only when Makoto lets out a loud, shuddering breath and drops the ruined remains of the pen to the table. Morgana makes a quiet noise and stands, crossing the table and sliding into her lap as Makoto presses her own hands to her face in an attempt to compose herself.

Akira gives her a minute, gathering and tossing the pen in the trash and wiping up the few stray drops of splattered ink before sitting next to her on the sofa. He leaves a little space, just in case – but it’s quickly closed, Makoto pressing her shoulder against his, Morgana’s purrs loud and soothing between them.

#tbh this comes from a place of wanting to love makoto again #bc i do! i think she's got some great character to her #but she's also... kinda become a microcosm of my frustrations with p5 #(characters making poor decisions for the sake of plot; refusing to acknowledge problems as systemic instead of blaming individuals)#which is unfair to makoto #so the makoto in my p5 def ain't becoming a cop #this explores some of that and touches on some other things that i've already mentally changed but haven't written yet #and yeah. def not done but i need to sleep and it's done enough lol #my fic #persona 5 #akira kurusu #persona 5 protagonist #makoto niijima #morgana #(adding like. real tags this time. just for fun.)#p5 #p5r

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formosusiniquis · 1 year

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mi media naranja (and other things that need to ripen) - ch 1

ao3 | Chapter Two

Nancy needs a translator.

She's hot on the tail of one of the biggest scoops of her career -- behind the truth about Hawkins lab, the Starcourt Fire, and what was really wrong with Hawkins, Indiana -- a chance to expose several government officials of corruption and mob ties. If her research so far is correct she might even be solving a couple prominent cold cases. It was the kind of high she was ready to ride all the way to a Pulitzer. If she weren’t stalling right at the finish. She’d made it this far with her conversational Russian, truly the only thing Hawkins has ever given her, talking to sources with ties to the Russian mob.

She had all her pieces but none of the proof to tie them together without her primary witness, a recent immigrant and current housekeeper to someone in a prominent mafia family. Nancy knows she’s the linchpin to the whole story, if only spoke something other than French and Italian. Nancy, fluent in Spanish, assumed with a romance language under her belt she'd be fine taking on anything. Until she spends two hours going round in circles because, turns out, similar isn't enough to get across the nuance needed for investigative journalism no matter how you try to force it.

She’s left every attempted interview frustrated, with next to nothing that she can actually use. Biting her tongue to keep from raising her voice at a woman who started speaking to her in broken English rather than deal with Nancy asking her to repeat herself again ‘lenta.’

She can feel the exclusive slipping through her fingers. She’s going to get scooped by the Wall Street Journal, one of their smug Republican leaning reporters writing about what a disgrace it is that we can’t trust our ADAs anymore, how this one bad egg made the rest of the system look bad.

Like the government wasn’t suffering from a bone deep corruption that you couldn’t cut out.

She’s been dealing with these assholes for years, the least they could do is let her make a career out of it. The whole thing makes her head hurt, she needs to replace her night guard, but more than she needs to stop grinding her teeth she needs this story with her editor.

So Nancy needs a translator, and she needs one yesterday.

Her coworker Jan, who does their travel section, has a source.

Her coworker Jan also has the worst case of pregnancy brain Nancy has ever encountered. "She's great, really, an absolute whiz at languages, super friendly. Absent minded professor type. Rowen, no that's not right. Anyway, she's really sweet; set me up at all my hotels last time I was in Italy. Wren? She's at Columbia, language department first door on the left when you get to the faculty offices."

Nancy needs a translator, so she goes. There can't be that many women with bird names in the language department.

The first door on the left is shut tight when Nancy arrives, a light is on and a figure silhouetted in the glass pane but inaccessible thanks to Midwestern courtesy. Nancy snoops before she knocks. Every other door in the hall has a nameplate, professionally engraved with a first and last name.

Her possible translator does not, in its place beside her door is a handwritten Robin H. In a bold all caps hand, sharp angles and hard downstrokes. There's something else to be learned here, it's an itch at the back of her brain, but Nancy needs a translator more than she needs another mystery. So she knocks.

"Office hours ended half an hour ago, if you're failing today you'll still be failing tomorrow."

That itch is still there, agonizing as when she had chicken pox in the third grade.

Normally Nancy is more professional when it comes to her sources. She'll call, make an appointment, let them know she's coming unless surprise is important. Normally she even goes in knowing their names.

"I'm with the Times, my coworker Jan sent me. If I could just have a moment of your time."

There's a clatter, a thud, the familiar sound of a stack of paper that was too close to the edge of a desk gracefully sliding onto the floor. The equally familiar sound of, "Shit, fuck, those better have page numbers" said by someone who knows those pages on the floor don't and how long it will take to try to figure their order.

The door swings open, and in the doorway for the first time in the decade since Nancy left Hawkins, stands Robin Buckley. Hair a little shorter, blazer a little more expensive, and forearms just as confusingly distracting when revealed by cuffed sleeves; but her translator is undeniably Robin.

"Shit."

#ronance #ronance fic #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #future fic #my fic #this was supposed to be a small little tumblr fic and then i thought of the title and now its a thing #anyway this is my one strong ronance opinion that they would only work as like a far future second chance romance thing #for a lot of reasons that we'll get into here #you can subscribe on ao3 and i've got a couple buffer chapters written but mostly it's getting posted to encourage me to continue on it

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authoralexharvey · 10 months

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This Or That Tag (Alternate)

Was tagged for a different "this or that" game by @flowerprose so thank you! Sorry it took me so long @.@

Also tagging: @linaket, @galactic-mystics-writes, @toribookworm22, @redbloodprose, @sabinabardot, @alistonjdrake, and @vhwrites. Have fun!

Historical or futuristic?

Both have their merits. When reading, I will go for just about anything. When writing, however, I tend to stick to more historical frames. The closest I get is I've done some contemporary pieces before.

Opening or closing chapter?

Both are difficult for different reasons. In terms of writing, I think I'm better at the opening. In terms of reading, nothing is better than a really satisfying ending.

Light and fluffy or dark and gritty?

There's a time and place for everything, but I tend to write darker more often.

Hard or soft magic system?

I write hard systems pretty regularly. I like having the rules and how they can be their own source of conflict.

Stand-alone or series?

I can barely finish one book, let alone a whole series. Standalones all the way.

One project at a time or always juggling 2+?

I am constantly hopping between different things in various stages of completion. Helps when I get bored with one of them for whatever reason.

One award winner or one bestseller?

I am torn on this one. I'm kind of in the "neither" camp but also in the "why not both" but if I was really forced to choose, I'd probs go award winner.

Fantasy or sci-fi?

Fantasy makes me feel less stupid. I'll read sci-fi, but a lot of it goes way over my head.

Character or setting description?

I like both and I will not be forced to choose. Setting helps ground you in the world, which I think is just as vital and important as being grounded in the characters themselves.

First or final draft?

Final for sure. If I can get that far, it's the "I have and completed and accomplished something" for me lol

Love triangle in everything or no romantic arcs?

I think romance is a core part of the human experience for a lot of people (not all, obvs). That said, this answer depends on if it's a forced/arbitrary triangle or if there's actual depth and sense of choice in either option.

But really my answer here is "why can't it be poly?"

Constant sandstorm or rainstorm?

Rainstorm for sure. Plants need rain. I don't think I would cope well with a sandstorm lol especially not a constant one.

#tag games #alex has the floor #writeblr

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animehouse-moe · 11 months

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Honey Lemon Soda Volume 2: Slow and Steady Aggravates Readers

Now I'm just joking with the subtitle of the volume, but well, it does end up waffling a bit with this first volume. Still worth the read however, but certainly a few points to take note of and be aware of if you're still on the fence with this title. At the end of it though, if you liked the first volume, you'll like the second (though there's of course more to it than that).

So let's get the bothersome out of the way. Uka is very flip floppy in this volume with their romantic interest and feelings for Kai. It's very "shoujo"-esque in that sense as it engages in a one-sided "will they won't they". I don't really hate it, because it exposes the inner turmoil and insecurity of Uka that melts away when she's happy alongside Kai.... but I'd also say that there's not a very good flow between either state for Uka. It's a lot of simple writing with "oh yeahs" peppered in to smooth over the bumps.

But truthfully? That's about the extent of my complaints. It's just a little lazy and simple in the movement within the writing. Past that, I still really enjoy Uka's character, and how they approach a social life at high school. A really important piece to capture with characters is that they're not putty in the hands of the writer, but nor are they an immovable stone that's fated to never change. Striking that balance where a strong core exists but a malleable exterior coats it is really important in these kinds of stories.

Which I think they take note of quite well. They rehash Uka's fears, and the issues of her being bullied, but things change ever so slightly. Why she's being bullied, being apologized to, standing up for herself, throwing herself into conversation. There's a lot of pieces that really make Uka's progression tangible and realistic.

And then, there's all these funny panels of a scatterbrained and nervous Uka, which I really can't get enough of.

Anyways, back to the volume at hand. Really solid at approaching Uka's character development and changes to high school life, yada yada yada, there's a few key moments that really stick out in her monologuing that appears throughout the volume that I enjoy. I think more than anything, the story's appeal is to be positive and encouraging towards this sort of experience, which can be skewed in regards to representation, but it works well as a feel good and creates really sweet moments like this one. Plus, closeups of the pretty art is always appreciated.

And, to finish it off, the meat and potatoes of the volume: a "rival" for Uka, in the form of Kai's ex-girlfriend Kanno. Which I think is a nice twist on the situation. She parallels a lot of Kai's behaviors towards Uka, which sets of alarm bells and certain feelings within Uka. Rather than jealousy and frustration, she turns it inwards and continues to put herself down in regards to the situation. Even when she's standing up for the sake of someone else, she's found a way to dig a deeper hole for herself to hide away in. It presents the drama of a "rivalry" but still places the ball firmly in Uka's court. Nobody else is challenging her, nobody else is actively trying to take Kai away, but her insecurity and anxiety forces that distance between her and Kai.

So there you have it, the second volume. Lots of what hooked me in the first volume, but a far more methodic approach to Uka as a character. You might even say that the story is purpose made to force her to grow, which might turn some people off. But personally speaking, this is a feel good series, so manufacturing progression to keep Uka moving forward isn't something I particularly mind. It might move things along at a quicker pace while still feeling oddly slow, but it's a far better approach than the typical "will they/won't they" RomCom that's invaded a lot of this genre. So for now, it's time to wait for volume 3 to release.

#honey lemon soda #Kai miura #Uka Ishimori #shoujo manga #shojo manga #shoujo #shojo #manga recommendation #manga review #anime and manga #manga #ハニーレモンソーダ

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estradasphere · 2 years

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a bunch of poorly-machine-translated questions from vacon's ask.fm

i don't feel like linking the individual questions so my source is "dude trust me"

a few are kinda nsfw so watch out

Q: What do you think about the culture of hip-hop diss tracks? A: There are many ways to diss, so it stays fresh-- I think it's special that even when the lyrics are just raw hatred, it's still quite acceptable as a piece of music!

Q: What's something you'll keep believing until you die? A: Simply put, be yourself!

Q: What do you ask for at Starbucks? A: Ice cocoa (soy milk) (without ice), and, American waffle

Q: Do you tend to compare your current romantic partner to your past ones? A: Neveeer! Nobody should do that! There's nothing more self-righteous, meaningless, and foolish than to shove someone into some stereotypical "lover" archetype and then measure them by some arbitrary yardstick. What is the value of comparing one person to another? Never let someone else's made-up words frame something so formless and precious! Always use your own senses to go about it delicately! Boys and girls!

Q: Do you find songwriting to be a burden? Or, do you enjoy the process? A: For me, songwriting is just plain fun! It is a quiet immersion in the pleasure of a large puzzle that is nearing completion. (I sound like a pervert when I write this.) Struggling to find the pieces is also a pleasure! I have my ups and downs no matter where I go, so I accept the slumps and go along with it. I'm not good at anything else. LOL

Q: Was it largely due to Diggy-MO's influence that you fell in love with the English language? A: I'm sure that Diggy is the biggest influence on me, but it was actually Mr. Ichikawa, my English homeroom teacher in the third year of junior high school, who gave me the opportunity to fall in love with the subject. I hated it until then, that English…

Q: How long do you take baths for? A: Thaaat's ・ aaaaa ・ ssssseeecret ♡

Q: Should I keep my nails short? A: Everyone should keep their nails short in case of a serious fist fight. If they are long, the force will unintentionally disperse into your nails, scarring yourself. Put your strength only in your fists. Understand?

Q: I've been sleeping naked lately. Do you also sleep naked? Or in your underwear? A: Quite a while ago, I slept naked with the AC on and got hypothermia and almost died for reals, so I'm wearing pajamas……. No, I'm not sure how a slight drop in body temperature could make a person feel like I did. I thought it would be better to go up a little…

Q: What do you like at McDonalds? A: I'm addicted to McFlurries. It's bad. Diabetes is inevitable.

Q: The most important thing(s) you look for in a boyfriend/girlfriend? A: I like a lot of alone time, so I wonder if they'll respect that.

Q: How much do you spend on food monthly? A: I did the math and broke out in a cold sweat, so I guess I'll stop thinking about it any further… (finished)

Q: I feel like I hate everything. Do you ever feel that way? A: "I hate everything"! When you feel like this, the intensity of that feeling will consume you, but it never lasts. Such vague yet extreme feelings. You should go to sleep immediately.

Q: Are you good at English?? Please teach me English~~ A: I'm not very good at it, but I like it a lot.

Q: Tell me the happiest moment of your life! A: This place called VACON, it's something that everybody came together and created.

Q: Tell us about your ideal album! (Number of songs, total runtime, whether or not there are instrumentals/interludes, etc…) A: I think the ideal number of songs is between 13 and 20. If there are instrumentals, it could be more than 20. Time should be 75 minutes or less. I love album versions of existing songs. I would love it if the beginning and the second half of the album were different. A strange album with all the different songs would be great. I guess it's something like that!

Q: What if your son or daughter wanted to be a rapper? A: I'd support them with all my strength. However, in the case of girls, if they go in the direction of loose-fitting subculture poetry or fake rap, I might want them to quit while they're in high school LOL. I want you to rap powerfully and coolly like Nicki Minaj and Pink, my daughter whom I have not seen yet!!!

Q: What are the main influences for your lyrics? A: Delusions, imagination, recollection.

Q: How has your experience at StudioLama benefitted you in your current creative endeavors? A: LamaOS was fun like a culture festival until I finished it, but I then realized that this wasn't what I wanted to do.

Q: You mentioned that Suckie Fxxxie Pop is a maniacal song like ニタニタTHERAPY, but I personally felt the flashiness/flamboyance all the way through the chorus. Please tell us why you consider the song maniacal! A: Ah~~~ I did mention that a while ago, I missed it ~ I'm glad you remember me so well. It was short, and with the theme being what it was, I felt like I had created an elusive song. Who on earth would understand it? I worried like that, LOL. However, I was conscious of creating a rather expansive sound, and developing it! I wanted to give the song a little bit of sweetness and sourness and sadness. I didn't want it to just be a lewd song…

Q: When you are creating, do you ever accidentally make a song that resembles an existing song, like "Hey, maybe I've heard this somewhere before"? It seems like the more history there is, the harder it is to be original. Have you ever had problems with this sort of thing? A: Something like that~ Some say that there are too many melodies already. I don't want to believe it. I'm always worried that the melody may have already existed. But we have to create. You should use the momentum to give shape to something that you are in the mood for, and let it exist for now. Whether or not you publish it, I believe that creating this way will lead you to your next creation.

Q: What made you start working out? A: I thought it was time to lose weight or I would die (seriously).

Q: When you were in high school, did you choose Japanese history or world history? A: It was world history! I wanted to know the world. (sophisticated)

Q: When you find criticism of yourself, do you get depressed? Or do you just take it in stride and use it as a reference for your future work? A: I do sometimes feel empty about it, but I don't dwell on it. I'll forget it soon! …But the people who were saying bad things about Ms. Saegusa in Binetsu Parade are now toiling in my basement.

Q: Is Vacon's preference for Western music due to language differences rather than musicality? A: Maybe. In terms of musicality, I think either has its own irreplaceable charm. There are sounds and grooves that can only be found overseas, and that can only be found in Japan!

Q: I have a high voice, but I really admire VACON'S voice, let's exchange vocal cords……………… A: Thank you very much. As for me, I envy those who have a high voice. I'd like to sing Bruno Mars in the original key at least once in my life.

Q: How did Vacon come across Nicorap? A: I guess it was ill.bell. Heh, I still like him…

Q: Which country would you like to visit before you die? A: Iceland! [ <- he mentions iceland a ton when asked about travelling ]

Q: I've gained 3kg before I knew it. Advice on losing weight? A: As I am becoming more and more indifferent to weight gain and loss, I think you are slim in spirit and are aware of the need to lose weight when you gain it. If you start to look like me, it's all over. Good luck.

Q: Do guys hate it when girls tell them they're cute? I told this to a male friend, and he gave me a subtle look. I thought I was complimenting him, but…..? Are you happy about it? A: That subtle look means he's trying hard to hide his embarrassment! I don't feel bad about it, but I do feel a little embarrassed, like "give me a break!"

Q: Do you like being scared? A: I love scary things!! I can afford a good scare or two!! Yes, I heard that the upcoming movie "Hereditary" is quite scary. I'm gonna go see it. I'm looking forward to it.

Q: How can I get the virginity of someone I love? A: Oh!!!!! Go get it!!!!!

Q: Do you prefer to pay by cash or by card? A: Definitely credit card!!! Because I don't feel like I'm spending any money!!! (idiot)

Q: People who play music are all weirdos, aren't they? A: All human beings are weird. Everyone's weird in some way. Those who are not strange are strange for not being strange! Weirdness is individuality. Let's nurture it and love it.

Q: How do you come up with such beautiful lyrics? I like them. A: I simply don't worry about how clean or dirty they are. Thank you. (But I do say fuck-fuck-fuck in most of them…)

Q: Do you have any hobbies other than music? A: Watching movies. If there's a work that interests me, I will immediately make time to watch it!

Q: Are you the type of person who can cook? A: I do a lot of cooking on my own, but I am a slave to recipes. Cookpad is god! Yep!

Q: What is your fetish? A: If I had to choose, I'd say it's the mouth! [ <- he got asked this question twice and said mouth both times ]

Q: I love Vacon's choice of words, so beautiful… I imagine that he is a kind person… am I being deceived? A: Even I can be harsh at times! The other day, when I was working as a torturer, a side job I started as an extension of my hobby, I didn't listen to any of the POWs begging for their lives!

Q: Is the torture officer side business doing well? How can I become a prisoner? A: I use rubber gloves less often these days! Don't be a prisoner. I shudder to think of torturing my lovely angels. I hope all of you are happy, every last one of you.

Q: How are you so cool, sexy, genius, humorous, kind, and irresistible? A: That's just how you see me!! This is embarrassing ~~ i'm honestly happy ~~

Q: What kind of person does Vacon become when he gets angry? A: The kind that shuts up! [ <- or "the kind that is silent" ]

Q: What instruments does VACON handle when composing? A: Piano and very occassionally guitar! I only tinker with them to get ideas flowing! I can hardly play them!

Q: I'm not sure if I should cut my hair! Can you tell me if you prefer short or long hair? A: Oh… you're asking for my preference? I guess it all depends on your face and general style! I like the hair that's unique to that person more than anything else! It sparkles the most!

Q: Is Vacon-san self-taught in music composition and other musical knowledge? I love music and would like to learn, but I would like to know where you started! My dream is to one day create a cool track and give it to Vacon….? A: "Daigasso! Band Brothers" on the Nintendo DS was my introduction to music composing. At first, I was just having fun typing in my favorite songs by ear, but once I got the hang of composing, I discovered the joy of creating my own music! This is not the type of game where you have to rhythmically press buttons in time with the finished music, but a game where you press buttons to play and become part of the music. I can play while understanding how it's created. And moreover… oh no, I'm talking too much…! Ahahahaha!!! I am looking forward to your track offerings….?

Q: Please reveal something private about yourself. A: You pervert!

Q: I love Vacon's laugh so much, I've listened to it hundreds of times on repeat, but I still can't get enough! What to do… what to do… (˙-˙) A: So dirty!!!

Q: Are you afraid of falling in love? A: I heard it hurts to fall in love if you're in too deep…

Q: What's the most interesting thing in your room? A: Donkey Konga

Q: What would you buy if you had the money for it? A: KFC's Red Hot Chicken! (fat)

Q: Please tell me your height and weight! A: Ehh-- I dunno, cuz I've never measured it, cuz I was born and raised in the jungle.

Q: Vacon-san… virgin… you are a virgin… please tell me you're a virgin! A:

[ i'm serious he just responded with this gif ]

Q: What's the best medicine for a broken heart? A: Tears, of course! Cry as much as you can.

Q: Are your ears pierced? A: I don't have an opening. I've never even thought about it. I don't know much about fashion.

Q: I found out about VACON from Bad Romance. He is very husky and erotic, and I liked him immediately. I will continue to support him. My question is, what do you think of nqrse? Do you have a good relationship with each other? Do you ever collaborate? A: Thank you! I'm afraid that sexiness was mostly because of nqrse-chan's assist and Giga-san's mix. I think nqrse is a hard worker. He also has a great sense of humor. He is witty. I think we have a good relationship. (We don't keep in touch very often, but… LOL) We have two projects in progress! Working with nqrse-chan is stimulating and gives me a lot of experience, so I'd like to make it happen more and more!

Q: vacon-san!!! I like you!!! A: Shut up, ya old hag!! You could at least knock!! (rebellious)

Q: I really really like Vacon's voice, but what should I do about this feeling? A: I will try my best not to deteriorate. I don't like to drink or smoke, so I guess I can do whatever. I just have to make sure not to use it too strangely…

Q: I love Vacon!!!!! By the way, I am an active high school girl virgin!!!! I have no questions!!!!! A: Wow, thank you! I've been into black magic lately, so I was just in the market for some young virgin's lifeblood! But I need at least two liters… no? (๑o̴̶̷᷄﹏o̴̶̷̥᷅๑)

Q: What kind of cake do you like? A: Chocolate cake! Mont Blanc cake!! Ice cream cake!!! (fat) Q: My boyfriend told me about Vacon and I'm hooked. I love Vacon more than my boyfriend and I don't know what to do. A: Please give him to me. That boyfriend Q: Is there a poster on your wall? Post a photo! A: That's right

also here's a few english questions that i thought were cute:

#utaite #vaconposting #the fucking. black magic and torture answers. he's nuts i love him #again google translated take these with a HUGE grain of salt

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bitegore · 2 years

Note

Directors cut for Soundwave Says: Fuck Off?

Soundwave Says: Fuck Off can be read here :D

There are two pieces of important context for this fic and neither of them have anything to do with it. The first is that I got really used to the level of feedback and attention I got for my (extremely often, usually at least one update to one fic a day) posting schedule over this summer and I was really happy with it! I've always been enormously attention-hungry and I was finally getting a level of sustained attention that I liked.

And then I went to college. And now I can't do that any more, because I'm using my brain for, like, school and shit. Now I'm back to the bad old days of refreshing my email every ten minutes and having nothing new in there for an entire day! Horrible. So I'm like desperate to finish and post things and it's just not getting done because I need my time and my focus for school and fic has to come second.

The other thing is that, in the tradition of several other people who I admire, I decided to make a fic-idea generating twitter bot with Cheap Bots Done Quick. My bot is pretty janky for a few reasons, not least of which because I can't get it to save variables, but it works.

Soundwave Says: Fuck Off was literally just me sitting down at approximately 1am, going "if i don't get a comment on a fic tonight i will literally drop dead and also die, but i have no ideas for anything i can wrap up and post in a short period of time. let me go play with my bot... okay that's a funny prompt, i'll do it" (because the bot gave me "the Decepticons and Soundwave had a falling out and now Hook is trying to get them back together. the fic" and that was just a very funny idea)

The actual fic itself literally shaped up while i was writing it. I didn't know Soundwave was going on temporary negotiation-vacation until about a third of the way through. There was very little by way of planning or thought process outside "it needs to be funny and it needs to be posted TONIGHT" lmfao, but I did figure that it wouldn't actually make sense for Soundwave to have fucked off from the Decepticons for real. He's just not really that kind of character. He wouldn't do that. So then there needed to be a different reason... the first and most low-hanging of which was "Soundwave got annoyed and took a vacation".

Soundwave forcing Hook to vacation with him was like the next immediate plan once I figured that out, though. I already set him up as the other overworked perfectionist among the Decepticons; I kind of had to follow through on that parallel after I'd done it.

Sorry I haven't got better or more in-depth commentary, but this fic had like. 0.5 thoughts go into it, haha, if I were going to give you analysis it'd be me digging through what's already there trying to come up with something deeper than what I actually put in lmao. You know how it goes. Sometimes you just gotta write fic for the sake of getting everyone to call you funny rather than to say anything about the characters.

#red replies #mx-plugs #unfortunately i really am just like this #i need attention or else i go a little bit nuts #these days i can get it on my own merits though! people know who i am and like my writing! so i don't have to be as desperate and clawing #for a scrap of attention from everyone i know as i used to be #i'm so glad i can just post fic to ao3 and get more than 0 comments now. its made me so much chiller #director's commentary ask game #this is one of several that. if asked about. you will really just get a window into my slightly skewed psyche

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thehandsresisthim · 3 years

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Taming Tenko - Part II

Shigaraki Tomura I Shimura Tenko / Female Reader

Part I can be found here

Contains: sub shig, dom reader, low-key women-hating shig, college au, quirk less au, masturbation, shig nuts on readers scarf, cock stepping, shig humping against readers feet, humiliation, overstimulation, shig and reader are having fun playing pretend lol

Before he can help himself, he's rubbing parts of the scarf along his cock - at first it's strange, but the smell of you is so soothing that he finds himself unable to stop.

Amidst whimpers and moans, Tenko blows his load all over the piece of clothing, ruining it.

"m' sorry, mistress..." he whimpers, still deep in his fantasy.

+++

"Hi, Shimura. How's it going? I just wanted to quickly ask you about the project - we still do need to finish it. Would you be interested in meeting up with me? We could meet up at your place, just text me your address and a time."

It's the ninth time he has played your message once again - the voice recording, no matter how mundane it's subject, gets him going like nothing else. You're his pretty miss.

The scarf you gave him was now covered in his seed - it had dried in a few places, making it all crusty, but he still couldn't help using it.

It felt so good - he had never felt a woman's touch before, and this was as close as he could get.

After cleaning himself up a little, he answered your request with an adress and a fitting time, afterwards taking a look around his room and promptly starting to clean it. He did not want his mistress to think he was gross - he put clothing into the laundry basket, got rid of old plates with food on them, vacuumed the floor, replaced his bedsheets with new, clean ones and dusted of surfaces. He had to admit, his room hadn't been this clean for a while. Even when he wasn't pretending to be a dirty pervert, keeping clean was important to him when you came over.

A few hours later, the agreed upon time had come - you had answered him in a text - and he was certain he had never been more nervous.

Tenko hears the doorbell, the sound sending a wave of shock through his body. Finally, you were here.

He walks over to the door, breathing heavily, and quickly lets you walk in.

Fuck, you're so pretty, he can't help but think.

'Shit, shit, shit,' he says in his mind, 'I'm already hard.'

"Hi, Shimura. How's it going?" you say as you take of your coat, a different scarf - Tenko almost whimpers in shame as he is reminded of what he did to your other one, where did he put it again? - and your boots.

"I'm... doing good. And you-u are?" he stutters out, distracted with thinking about whether or not his bulge is visible.

"I'm all good. Cmon, Tenko, let's start working already. Where is your room?"

Tenko? When did you start calling him Tenko. Did this mean that you liked him? You're not helping his erection.

"I- it's this way," he blabbers and starts walking towards his room. You follow suit.

You enter, and he can see the way you look around yourself, taking in his space. He wonders what you think, but is too nervous to ask.

"Oh, Tenko, there's my scarf!", you exclaim, and he's sure he just died inside.

Before he can do anything, you've grabbed the thing, and are holding it in your hands, no doubt feeling how damp and crusty it is in places. He wonders if you'd believe him if he told you that he spilled something on it.

Your facial expression conveys how disgusted you feel quite well.

"What happened here, baby boy? Did you seriously dirty my scarf with your disgusting sperm?"

"I-I... Look, I-"

Quickly, you walk over to the door, close it, and lock it.

Next, your hand is buried in his hair before he can dodge it, and you push him down. He whimpers, and he himself can't tell if it's because he is shocked at your sudden harsh treatment or aroused by it - maybe it's both.

He's kneeling now, right beside your legs.

"Are you seriously hard already? Really, Tenko?"

Your foot is stepping on his cock, and he can't help but buck his hips up against you.

"I- I'm, sowry, I-"

You push down on him, and he let's out a raspy moan. It's all happening so quickly, he doesn't know what to do.

"But, you were- so, nice, to me, so why-" he stutters in confusion.

"Oh, Tenko, at first it was genuine. But then I found out just how disgusting you are."

"But how-" he chirps out in stress.

"Stop whining and take your filthy hands of my scarf, you little whore.", you instruct, and he immediately follows your command, putting it onto the bed right next to him.

"It's really not surprising that a disgusting boy like you is turned on by being humiliated. I already guessed you'd be a masochistic bitch, but when I checked the browsing history on your tablet whilst you were in the bathroom at the Café I got confirmation. A gross little nerd like you should know to delete your browser history, hmm?"

"I... I forgot, I-", he tries to explain, but you interrupt him.

"Of course you did. You can only think with your tiny cock, can't you? Take off your pants and underwear, I want to see just how small you are."

Does this mean that you like him? A big part of him jumps in excitement at the thought. You had to, right? Otherwise you wouldn't ask him to expose himself.

He starts untying the band holding up his black sweatpants, and quickly removes his underwear, all whilst still kneeling down, in hopes of not disappointing you.

You immediately stare at his private parts, and he feels his face get red with shame.

"Wow, Tenko, you're even smaller than I expected." you exclaim loudly, and he hates the way his cock twitched at that. Based on your facial expression, you saw the twitch too.

"Aww, look at you!" you say and use your foot to massage his tiny nub.

He starts humping your foot, gasping for air and moaning once again and you chuckle, then suddenly move your foot up with quite a bit of force.

Tenko reacts deliciously - letting out a strangled scream, and says something you hadn't quite expected - "M-mommy!"

You can't hold in your laughter now.

"Seriously, Tenko? I didn't think you'd be this pathetic."

You can see how the shock over his own words kick in.

"I... I didn't mean, I'm not- it's not..."

"Come on, repeat what you said. Babyboy."

You see the glistening amount of pre dripping down his cock, and the repeated twitch of it at the nickname.

You take to massaging his aching cock with your foot once more, and he starts to buck once again. "Come on, Tenko, say it."

"Mommy... Mommy, need my m...mommy. Please." he whimpers.

You smirk and shove one of your hands into his hair, slowly rubbing.

"Don't stop humping, babyboy."

Tenko sighs at the sensation of your socks against the sensitive skin.

He quickly feels an orgasm coming. Should he tell his mommy? He's not sure. You're mean enough to deny him, but he doesn't think you'd appreciate him dirtying your socks, considering your previous reaction to what he did to your scarf. He ultimately decides to tell you.

"Mommy? I'm, going to-,... cum." he says quietly, averting his eyes.

"So quickly?" you ask.

"I'm sorry - I don't want to... disappoint mommy, but, cock is too, sensitive..."

"Well, you can cum - but you better don't stop humping after." you answer his plea.

Tenko whines after comprehending the instruction, knowing that he can't handle overstimulation all that well. But following mommys commands is more important than his comfort, he decides.

After a particularly sensational hump, he quickly covers your feet in his seed. The noises he makes are nothing short of adorable - a high pitched chirp of "mommy!"

"Don't stop now, little Tenko." you remind him, and as he follows the instructions, he is reminded of why he hates overstimulation.

The confusion of having pleasure and pain mixed is simply too much for him, and before he can think, he has his arms wrapped around your waist, grounding himself through the touch.

He sounds absolutely miserable - high whines and gasping moans escape at a high rate.

"Can you cum again, my little boy? If you do, I'll allow you to take a break." you say, your voice still calm. Tenko notices how much he likes how collected you are whilst he's making a mess of himself.

Eager to fulfill your request, he quickly recovers - taking way less time to orgasm again. This time, it's not as pleasurable - the nerves still burning as a consequence of the overstimulation.

But the way you laugh at his pathetic expression is a wonderful reward.

"Onto the bed, you slut." you say, and he just nods in response, feeling overwhelmed by the fact that he just came two times in the span of roughly 7 minutes. He adores you, and the idea for such a scenario - you were always willing to listen to his ideas, and getting grouped up for a project gave it the tint of realism he loved. He felt lucky to be with you.

He quickly gets himself together - as best as he can - and hops onto his clean sheets.

"You're going to eat me out now, maybe you'll actually have something you're good for, let's find out." you demand and take of your pants.

Tenko sighs at the idea of your thighs surrounding his head as he laps up your juices.

"Yes, mommy," he manages to say, though quietly.

Here's part one!

#Shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #Tomura shigaraki x reader #Shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura x y/n #Shigaraki Tomura x you #Sub shigaraki #Sub shigaraki Tomura #Bnha smut #Mha smut #Dom Reader

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 3 years

Text

Good Girl, Bad Boy (Pt. 15 of 15)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 1.5 K

Summary: You're the extreme opposite of Billy Hargrove. The good girl, with perfect grades, the child every mother wants to have. And you don't want to have nothing to do with his kind. Ignoring Billy – and his constant, lingering stare – became an habit. But after you're put together for a special school program, you'll have no choice but to get along with him. And soon enough you'll find out that Billy is so much more than just Hawkins' bad boy.

<-Previous part (14)

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

Leaving Hawkins

“Billy, I can't close this one.” You whine, pushing your baggage and trying to pull the zipper.

“Do you really need all that?” He asks, gesturing at your two huge pieces of baggage, and the one you can't close, a bit smaller.

“Yes. These are my clothes and stuff. We're moving out, I'll need all of it.” Batting your eyelashes, you take Billy's hand. “Just help me close it, please?”

He rolls his eyes dramatically before working on your stuff. And there's a small pile of clothes that won't let it close. “I'll rip the zipper if I push it further.” As he speaks, he takes off what's on the way and the thing closes down easily.

“What am I going to do?”

“I have a bag you can use. But we'll have to drive back to my place before hitting the road.”

“Hitting the road...” You mutter, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Something wrong?”

“No, I just... Can't believe it.” Looking down at your hands, you sigh. “I was expecting this moment for so long and now is actually happening. I'm going to college. We're both going to college. Together. And this is–”

“Amazing.” He finishes off for you, sitting by your side. “(Y/N), I... I've heard from some people that I'd never be anyone. That I'd have a miserable life and I swear I didn't care. I was fine with it but now it's different. Now I have you and I want to give you the whole world.”

“You already do.” Tracing the outline of his jaw, you stare into his blue eyes. “And the future that waits for us will be great. You'll be an amazing Marine Biologist...” As you speak, you move to sit on his lap, arms around his neck. “...And I'll be an awesome Architect. And our kids will know their parents are soulmates, meant to be together.”

“Pretty girl, you couldn't be more right.” And he claims your lips on a kiss, fast and needy, that has to be cut off way too soon because of the footsteps coming towards the bedroom.

“Kids, it's getting late.” She says, and before she can come in, you stand up. “I don't mean to kick you out but the road to California is long and you have a certain time to reach the hotels you'll be sleeping in and–” She stops talking suddenly, swallowing hard. “Baby, I'm gonna miss you.” She pulls you into a hug, way too tight. “Call me from the hotels and the moment you set foot in California, hear me? I'll visit you as soon as I get my days off.“

“Alright, mom.” Giggling, you pull away. “We're ready to go. We'll have to stop at Billy's to get another bag but that's it. I'm officially leaving Hawkins.”

“Dear God, I thought this day would never come.” She mutters but helps you with the baggage anyway.

At the sidewalk, she hugs you and Billy once again, holding you for way too long. But you don't blame her. One day, it'll be you saying goodbye to your kids, and you know you'll feel the same.

“Hargrove, take care of her.” She says, finally letting you go. “Make sure she's eating well, and watch out for her allergies and–”

“Mom, Billy will take care of me just fine. And I'll take care of him as well.” You assure her, giving her one last kiss on the cheek before getting inside the car.

And then, Billy starts driving.

It's not like your leaving Hawkins yet, but you are leaving your house and your mother.

Holding back the tears, your take Billy's hand. “The first day of the rest of our lives.” You mutter, looking at the houses passing by.

“It'll be wonderful.”

Nodding, you smile. “It sure will.”

Twenty minutes later your stopping by his house for the last time. But there's something you notice immediately. And so does Billy, as all his body gets tense.

Neil's car is here.

“Wait here, alright?” You quickly nod, but before he can leave the car, you pull him towards you, just to kiss him.

You've never met Neil. Billy doesn't want you anywhere near that devil of a man. And you're alright with it. As you watch him leaving the car and getting inside the house, you regret making him do that just to get you some stupid bag.

On the day Billy finally told you everything, about who his father really is and what he did, you saw your boyfriend cry for the first time. And on that night you held him, not giving a damn to what would happen if your mother caught him in your bedroom. He needed you.

>>>>>>>>>>>> And maybe he needs you< now.>

Taking a deep breath, you step out of the car, and when you reach the porch, you hear a yell. Your heart skips a beat as you run for the door, but on the moment you open it, Billy is already coming out, a black bag in his hand. He stops when he sees you, eyes going wide.

“B, are you alright?” You ask in a soft voice.

“I am, pretty girl. C'mon.” He walks out, taking your hand.

“So this is the plaything you're using this time.” The voice, harsh and loud, comes from inside the house. Both you and Billy stop, turning around. “Sweet little thing. Don't ruin her life as you did with yours.”

“I'll never understand what kind of sick pleasure you have on stepping on me!” Billy yells, moving forward, but not letting go of your hand. “There are a lot of things I should say to you but I just realized it doesn't matter. You don't matter.”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> “You won't say anything because you know I'm right.” Neil laughs, eyeing you up and down as if you were nothing. Neil thinks everyone is nothing. < Because that's what he sees every time he looks in the mirror.>

>>>>>>>>>> “I won't say anything because it doesn't matter. Because <you> doesn't matter.” Billy says, squeezing your hand a little. Stepping closer, you lay your forehead on his shoulder, just so he knows you're here, with him. “There are much more important things in my life right now, and it finally made me see who you are and who I am. And I'm so much more than you.”

You can't believe the words coming off his mouth.

And you can't believe you have a part in it. In this change, in this strength.

“You're just a–”

“He's just an amazing man.” You decide to speak, locking eyes with Billy before looking at Neil. “Billy is everything, and you're nothing. Just a sad, mediocre man, who needs to make others feel bad just so you feel better about yourself.”

“I'm leaving now, father.” Billy spits the last word as if it was poison in his mouth. “And I don't want or need you in my life. In our lives.” And he starts walking again, and just before you turn around, you notice a bruise forming on Neil's face. “Hope I'll never see you again.”

A river of profanities leaves Neil's lips, in yells and curses. You keep an eye on Billy, checking if he wants to go back there. To kick him in the gut or something, but Billy is oddly... Peaceful. As he drives away. For good.

“...B.” You say in a low voice, reaching out a hand to touch the nape of his neck. “Are you alright?”

Sighing, he glances at you. “I am.” There isn't a hint of doubt in his voice. “Today I just... He started yelling and I started to feel like before but them... Then I thought about you. And it just clicked.” There are tears in your eyes, and you don't even try to hold them back. “You showed me how good life can be. And the man I want to be, for you. Because you deserve all the love world and I'll give it to you. Through studying, having a good job, and building a life together. Getting married and having kids. All of it. I want all of it... With you.”

“I love you.” You whisper, wiping some tears away. Luckily, he's forced to stop at the red light, and you get the chance to lean on him, kissing all over his face until your lips finally meet his. “I love you, B.”

“Love you too, pretty girl.” He replies, looking up at you on your awkward position, kinda on him, but not really. “I–” He's cut off by some idiot blasting the horns behind.

Rolling your eyes, you go back to your seat as Billy starts moving again. “Don't even bother, we'll have a lot of time to make out.”

“I'm counting on it.” With a wink and a sassy smirk, Billy makes you blush and smile again, as you both cross the sign that says ‘Leaving Hawkins’.

The road is long, and the next years will certainly be difficult. But as long as you're together, you can take it all.

@multific @tina1938 @graciehams @moatsnow @all-the-stars-on-your-skin @captain039 @rebelemilu @prettyinpunk85 @taisab02 @pascal-rascal424 @aleksanderblack @gruffle1 @boomhauer

#billy hargrove imagine #imagine billy hargrove #imagine stranger things #stranger things imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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leefics · 2 years

Text

brothers: extras | literature assignment

excerpt | the one where (y/n) needs help with her literature homework.

pairing | brothers!namjoon x reader

genre | fluff

warning/s | none

lee’s notes | to celebrate republishing the other chapters, here's a little extra i've had in my drafts for awhile! tbh i just got a bit excited when i found out how to make fake texts on imessage and so i decided to test it out :) feel free to lmk how you feel about me posting these little blurbs once and awhile!

go to | home / m. list / faq / character profile

during the facetime:

"hey." you say, waving to namjoon.

he waves back to you before turning towards his laptop to open the file you sent him. "hey yoo." he says, causing you to smile upon hearing the nickname.

as the file loads, he turns back towards you, letting out a chuckle at your rather disheveled state. "what time is it there?" he asks, resting his chin onto the palm of his hand.

you sigh and glance towards your alarm clock, crinkling your nose when you read what it says. "it's almost 12 am." you respond, wincing when you see namjoon's eyes widen.

"yah—why are you still up?" he says, looking at you in surprise.

you huff in defeat before looking downwards to fidget with the ball in your hands. "i've been catching up on assignments. for some reason, all our teachers thought it would be a good idea to schedule the deadlines at the same time." you respond, a small pout forming onto your face.

namjoon frowns in concern upon hearing this, well-aware of how much stress you're probably under. "i'm sorry to hear that." he responds, the sympathy evident in his tone.

you glance towards him when you hear his response, giving him a small thankful smile. "it's okay, i mean, i guess i'll just have to live with sleeping a bit later for the rest of week." you say, making namjoon sigh.

"just remember to prioritize your health, okay? i pulled a few all-nighters too when i was still in school but i want you to know that your well-being is more important than anything." he says, staring at you directly through the screen. "trust me, it's better to put your sleeping schedule first than to force yourself to finish the rest of the assignments while you aren't in your best state."

you nod at this, letting out another sigh. "thank you, joons. i needed that." you say, giving him a smile.

he simply smiles back and nods before responding, "of course, (y/n). and hey, if you ever need someone to talk to or just need help with an assignment, just send me a message, alright?"

you let out a laugh at this, staring at him. "even when it's 2am in korea?" you playfully ask, namjoon chuckling and rolling his eyes.

"i think you might be better off calling yoongi-hyung that late at night."

you simply smile and nod, scooting closer to the screen. "will do. but seriously—thank you for saying all of that and for agreeing to help me. i know it's not the easiest thing to say yes to, especially considering the fact that you're probably busy."

namjoon shakes his head at this, looking at you reassuringly. "we always have time for you, (y/n)-ah. no worries." he replies, giving you a thumbs up before clapping his hands. "now, speaking of helping you, shall we start reading?"

you chuckle and nod, grabbing your pen and a piece of paper. "take it away, professor kim."

after the facetime:

#bts ff #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts #bangtan #bangtan imagine #bts imagines #bts x female reader #bts x little sister #bts x reader platonic #bts brother au #bts older brother au #brothers extras

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obiwanobi · 2 years

Note

Well if we are going full reasonable Anakin let’s say he doesn’t even try to get close to him after the whole confessing thing. He will accept that his master may have realized that he doesn’t need Anakin the way Anakin needs him (after all he’s the one who told him not to think about him that way) and Force be damned it hurt. So now there is distance, a lot of longing on both parts and after a while it becomes a Temple problem because The Team is falling apart and both radiate sadness and act as if they are stranger to the point of Mace actually considers playing matchmaker « these two stare so much at the other it gives me diabetes ». In the end it’s Rex who corners Anakin with « What happened to you and General Kenobi ? No in fact that’s not my problem, you were both supposed to go with Ahsoka at the Spacewhale exposition and both of you cancelled so that you wouldn’t see the other. You are making Ahsoka sad General😠 ». It’s a collective stratagem that gets them in the same room and before Obi-Wan can leave because he won’t be able to take another rejection, Anakin gently takes both of Obi-Wan’s hands and softly says « I love you, I’m in love with you and you would know if you had let me finish last time, which was very rude Master by the way, how could you think I could do anything but love you? ». And they finally talk.

After that is just a matter of everyone exchanging credits (they were a lots of bets) « Master Tii ! You knew? », « Please, everyone knew for sure the day Skywalker started harrasing us for the mission reports where he wasn’t with you and yelled at us for not making you go to the infirmary ‘you are not taking care of Obi-Wan this is outrageous !’ were his exact words I think and you were a lost case the second he gave you a hug all these years ago and for the first time in weeks after your master’s death your force presence was light and bright ».

(@tomicaleto here's your happy ending!)

wait wait, I want more angst before a sweet ending, with Anakin saying things he doesn't realise are making Obi-Wan feel like he's being stabbed repeatedly, like they're both being assigned a new mission and Anakin says "yeah, I don't think we should do things together now" because he's trying! he wants to do the right thing and make it easier for Obi-Wan to distance himself!

and Obi-Wan stands very still and silent next to him and doesn't look at him so Anakin adds "it would be best if we're treated as two different people now and not as a team" and if you listen carefully you can hear Obi-Wan's heart being crushed in approximately millions of pieces, which is made even worse when Obi-Wan goes back to their shared quarters which are apparently only Obi-Wan's quarters now because Anakin moved all his stuff somewhere else when Obi-Wan was away.

Ahsoka finds him face down on the couch two hours later and he asks her "am I the most pathetic person you've ever met Ahsoka" and Ahsoka who has never seen Obi-Wan showing any signs of strong emotions before promptly says 'oh boy' and flees.

But once they reconcile, can you imagine how sickening they're going to be. How disgustingly in love. How Anakin will never be found more than a meter away from Obi-Wan and Mace will be like "as I was saying, this is truly a vital operation for us and... I'm sorry, Skywalker, could you please be a little more... formal? This is an important discussion" and Anakin, head on Obi-Wan's shoulder and hand on Obi-Wan's arm and playing footsie with Obi-Wan is like "hmmmmmmm. no"

#mace: obi-wan could you maybe... say something to him #obi-wan: anakin my darling my love my most precious angel could you maybe be nice to mace #anakin: no #obi-wan: well I'm sorry mace I tried everything #mace: I hope you two die horribly very soon #clem's aus #asks #anon #obikin

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