what if it's the person who's spent the past three years growing with her

Elsewhere University- Feathers

Like a whole bunch of other people, I saw @charminglyantiquated ’s Elsewhere University Comic and got SUPER INSPIRED. And since she’s so generously encouraging other people to play in her sandbox, I present ‘Feathers’.  EDIT : PART 2 HERE

You go to Elsewhere University. You’ve been going to Elsewhere University for (years and years and years and years) for three years now. You know how things are. You’re not an RA, but… Mm, you could have been.

Might still be. Aren’t yet.

This is your junior year (you think). You know how things are. You carry salt in one pocket, iron in another, trinkets to bargain away in your book bag, offerings in your purse, pearls around your neck.

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Giant: Ch. 18

Don’t let them take you down
Take your heart away
 And when the world comes crashing down
You gotta hold your ground

It was absolute hell. Outside, out in the world, it was an ongoing battle and it was a never ending war. People yelled on television. People yelled on street corners. People yelled at marches and protests and parades and pretty much everywhere, actually. Everyone was very sad and mad and generally so very humanly worried about their place in the world, that it turned into defensive posturing only seen during times of the greats rashes of pandemics and war.

But not in the bed.

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Prank Wars

Summary: Finding themselves with some downtime at the bunker, Dean, Sam, and Reader grow restless.

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam

Warnings: Pranks, Fluff

Word Count: 1,635

A/N: This is my very first request! It’s from @tuesday-666. Thank you so much for the idea, I’m sorry it took a little while. I had so much fun writing this and I may have delved into my own prank experiences - Muahahahaha! Also, this is my entry for @waywardmoeyy Moeyy’s 1K Fluff Fest Challenge. Congrats!! I let her pick my line for me, because I couldn’t decide. It is bolded below. There was an additional request for smut, but I kind of like this ending. Though I might be persuaded for a part 2 if desired. : )

As always, feedback is appreciated. Even if you hated it, please let me know so I can try to do better in the future. Thanks! : )


Y/N had hunted with the Winchesters for several years, off and on. For the past year, she had been living with the brothers in the bunker. They had constantly been hunting, together and separate, over the course of that year. Most recently, there had been a significant decrease in activity, finding the three of them holed up in the bunker for some much needed rest. At first, the respite was welcomed. Each taking their time in pampering, catching up on personal interests and to-dos, and plenty of sleep. After about a week, they all grew increasingly restless, needing to find a way to break the dull monotony of day to day life.

Y/N had decided it was time for a little fun. She loved joking and playing around with the brothers. But now that she had nothing but time, she could really pull out all the stops and push the envelope.

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A New Chapter (Ch. 4): A New Life

Characters: Dean Winchester x Platonic!Reader, Sam Winchester x Platonic!Reader, Dean Winchester x Mia Walker (OC)

Length: 1057+ words

TW: (Minor) Character Death

A/N: It’s a short chapter, but at least they’re reunited! Feedback is encouraged, but not necessary. Let me know if you want to be tagged, or removed from the Tag List!

Catch up on the Hell on Earth Series HERE


Five Years Later

Y/N graduated in Honours Nursing five years later. The girl whom had panic attacks at the sight of blood overcame her fears to do what she loved doing, helping people. She transferred from a General Science to Nursing in her second year, realizing that she wanted to do a more practical program. Luckily, her school offered a co-op program where she had placements for a term in the last two years of her program where she earned a little more money than she was used to through working in the library.

After the fight with Dean, Y/N had trouble opening up to people. The first person she ever trusted broke her heart, and their relationship in the span of months, and she never wanted to feel that pain ever again. So, she closed herself off from people, only talking when necessary. Jasmine was the one who broke her out of what shell, to help her trust in people again, and to teach her how to behave around other people.

She picked up a bartender job halfway through her first year, getting her license over the Winter Break when everyone went home. Jasmine was the one who helped her get her bartending license, and get her a job at the bar near the university, having worked at the bar since she started school. When money was tight, they resorted to dancing at the strip club. A lot of people from the university were seasonal workers there, trying to earn money to pay off their student loans. It was a competitive job, but through their connection from the bar, they were able to secure a position. Jasmine introduced her to her boyfriend, Matt, who was a physics major in their university. Their group of three expanded to four when they met Sean. He was a math major who was a TA in the same term as Matt, and through Jasmine’s prompting, the couple tried setting him up with Y/N with no luck. Despite their shortcoming as a couple, they became such good friends, and often ended up acting as “couple” in certain situation.

She was living comfortable in her apartment. When she wasn’t working or in school, she took up kickboxing, and boxing in general, aside from some self-defense class. She suggested it to Jasmine as a form of protection when they went home late at night, and Jasmine agreed. One of the things that Y/N liked most about Jasmine was that she never asked questions about her past. She’s mentioned that she’s had a hard past, and she didn’t like talking about it, and Jasmine understood completely.

Sam tried keeping his promise about keeping in touch as best as he could, but with Dean’s spiralling temper, it was hard for the youngest Winchester to talk to her as much as he would like. They rarely talked about Sam’s side of the story. He insisted the less she knew about the world of monsters, the safer she would be.

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Heartbroken

Little kacchako drabble, sorry for any mistakes, i writing this on mobile at 4:00 am

Word count: i don’t know, man, i’m tired

———————————

She looked at her watch, seeing it was almost 11:00 pm. The king and queen of prom would be announced in an hour.

The cold night air brushed her shoulders, and she cursed herself for not bringing a coat. That spaghetti-strap black dress didn’t suit her much, but she bought it anyway. Black was his favorite color.

The blue high heels started hurting her feet one hour ago, so now they were secured by two of her fingers, while she checked her phone for messages with the other hand. It was no use anyway. He never asked for her number.

Uraraka heard the doors of the building opening, and a concerned Tsuyu approached her, touching her shoulder with a hesitating hand.

“Ochako, are you still out here? Aren’t you cold?”

She brushed her off, giving her friend a reassuring smile. The shorter girl’s voice was dripping with pitty, something Uraraka really didn’t need at the moment.

“I’m alright, Tsuyu, don’t worry. Are you and Shouji-kun having fun? Is he being a gentleman? Tell'im i’ll kick his ass if he’s not!” she said, not looking at her friend, pretending to be indifferent at the whole situation.

Tsuyu didn’t buy it.

“Ochako, hon’,” she started, trying to be careful with her words, “Are you sure he’s–

“He’s coming.”

“Ocha–

“He’s coming, Tsuyu.” her voice came out a little harsher than she intended it to be. “I trust him.”

The girl nodded and gave her shoulder a squeeze before going back in, back to her date. The one who gave her flowers and picked her up at home. The one who was dancing with her and complimenting her dress.

Uraraka sighed, running a hand through her hair, realizing her neat side braid has been ruined by the wind. She looked at her watch again. Midnight. She checked her phone. No messages.

Looking up at the night sky, the girl felt her resolve shattering for the first time that night. She’s been waiting for three hours. The party would be over in two. She scoffed, imagining her friends leaving the building, excited and content after what could be their last night together, only to be welcome with this sight: Uraraka Ochako, shoes in hand, messy hair and smudged make up, after wasting her last chance of making memories with her friends waiting for a date that never came.

Why?

She didn’t even know anymore.

But it started with a smile. She did a lot of them everytime their eyes met, and he didn’t know why.

After almost three years of studying, training, and living together, the aspiring heroes of class 1-a got quite used to the blond-haired boy’s temper. Although their bonds were certainly stronger, some things just don’t change, like Bakugou’s rude and distant personality. They were grateful that he at least learned their names, but it would be a cold day in hell when the boy finally came to one of their parties or joined them on a movie night.

However, Uraraka never gave up on him. No matter how much he pushed her away, she always came back with a cheering smile and a warm tone in her words. His rude language and aggressive attitude never made her even flinch, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t scare her off like he did with the rest. Eventually, she became a constant presence in his everyday life, sparring, studying, and sometimes talking without insults and slurs. The girl had the weird power of seeing right through him, and she liked to use it, whether to make him and Deku get along or just to mess with him, which has been her main source of entertainment during their second year.

Until something changed on their third year. She was the same Uraraka as always, annoying and too kind for her own good. But something changed about the way she looked at him. The way she moved when he was around. And when he would refuse to join their friends to some class event or trip, her disappointment never went unnoticed by their classmates.

“You’re entering a dangerous zone, Ochako-chan,” Yaoyorozu once said, during one of their girl nights, “Some people are just not ready for these kinds of things. Some may never be. Bakugou-kun is certainly one of them.”

“I’m with Yaomomo this time, Occhan,” Mina chimed in, as the other girls hummed in agreement, “Besides, it would never work out. He’s too unstable. You would probably just get your heart broke.”

But Uraraka always defended him. Not that she was confirming those stupid theories, but Bakugou was still her friend. She didn’t like when they talked like that about him. However, she never denied anything either, and that was enough for her friends to know the truth.

And then it happened. The class was preparing for another movie night, when Uraraka came out of the elevator dragging a grumpy looking Bakugou with her. They brought blankets and more movies to the mix, and for the first time in a long, long time, the blond-haired boy actually had fun with his classmates, no violence involved. The remaining students were genuinely shocked, especially Kirishima and Kaminari, who have settled with spending time with Bakugou apart from the class after many failed attempts of trying to include him.

After everyone had gone to bed, the unusual pairing stayed in the common room, talking about everything and nothing. On that night, something changed in Bakugou too.

But it wasn’t for the better. The already explosive boy, got even more volatile with each passing day. Uraraka’s presence, something that he used to even wait for, now only made him uneasy, unsteady. And when someone asked him about it, he would just grow violent again. Uraraka knew the reason why he was acting this way, because she had to deal with the same feeling as well. She soon came to realize what her feelings really were. Although she would never admit it out loud, Uraraka was really fond of the Bakugou she came to know on the past few months. The Bakugou that only showed himself when they were alone, in their late night talks, and he gave her the answers for all the questions she asked herself over the last three years. And despite admiring and respecting him, Uraraka acknowledged his flaws and knew he wasn’t perfect. But he was Bakugou Katsuki, and for her, that was enough. Enough for her to be patient, enough for her to wait for him.

So, she waited. As her love for him grew stronger in her heart and mind, she wondered what was going on on his head. If her feelings were reciprocate, as she so expected, he was probably dwelling on if she was worth the risk of balancing his career and a relationship. After all, they would all have to go on different ways after high school, maybe even different cities. Would he stay for her? Would he take her with him?

“You’re putting too much expectations on this, Ochako,” Tsuyu said to her, dozens of times, after waking her friend from her constant daydreaming. “Please, be careful. I don’t wanna see you getting hurt.”

But she hasn’t been there. She hasn’t seen him like Uraraka has. The way he took care of her after training. How he didn’t put much of a fight when she’d lay her head on his shoulder. How he smiled at her laughter when he thought she wasn’t looking. It was real. She knew it was a risk being a hero and having a personal life, but she was more than willing to give it a shot for him.

So, one week before, she grew tired of waiting for him to make a move. When they were all packing their belongings to leave the dorms for the last time, she knocked on his door. For the last time.

“Don’t say anything! Say it at prom. Give me your answer there.”, she blurted out, as soon as she saw him. For the last time.

And then, she got on the tip of her toes and kissed him. Uraraka had heard of the butterflies-in-your-stomach kind of thing, but this was not like it at all. It was quick, awkward and so full of sentiment it got her knees trembling, and when she sprinted to her room and locked the door, she was sure she felt fireworks in her belly.

There was no way that kiss didn’t feel the same for him. There was no way those nights she spent awake thinking about him were one-sided. Maybe his watch broke. Maybe the bus was late, and there were no taxis. Maybe he didn’t have anything nice to wear. Maybe she just wasn’t worth taking a shot. Because, either way, prom night has ended, and Uraraka stood alone at the school doors, bare-feet, messy hair and running mascara.

And, just as her friends warned her, heartbroken.

Analysis: Part 5 of Plausible Theory

Part One:Plausible Theory

Part Two:Hypothesis

Part Three: Observation

Part Four:Experimentation


AO3: alwaysforyouscully


Summary: This has been AU as far as the timeline goes and this chapter will follow suit.
Mulder and Scully experience some growing pains. This chapter is 1 year into their relationship.

Warnings: Light NC-17 for sex, Heavy angst.


It had been almost a year since the fight in the motel that lead to their current togetherness. Mulder is still in awe of just how easily they slipped into this aspect of their relationship. He had spent years in love with Scully and now knows she felt the same but all it took was one night of anger and an ex girlfriend to give them the push they needed.

It surprises him how their work personas are almost identical to how they were before they started sleeping together.  Same inappropriate lack of personal space for two people that are just partners, same non-verbal communication and the same need to protect one another.

Mulder was even more surprised on their first trip out of town when Scully came into his room after her shower and crawled onto ’her’ side of the bed. He would have never guessed his luck, Scully being Scully but he did not complain or even mention it as he climbed in beside her.

All of this had been weighing on his mind the last couple of weeks and Mulder couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to change. He have never been lucky in regards to relationships and he couldn’t shake the notion that he was the common denominator in the break down of those relationships.

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anonymous asked:

#50 - bite me Who ever you want 😊

Another whack at Jerejean, so enjoy! 

From here! 


Saturday nights spent in the room with Jean were quiet and well spent not doing much of anything other than binge watching movies and ordering take out. Lazy was what Jean had first called it when Jere had proposed such evenings way back when, but as the weeks wore away, the other man’s tone began to shift and settle.

They had a big enough couch for three, a large enough space to create distance and shatter it all together, and he wouldn’t deny it if anyone asked whether or not he liked having Jean wrapped up against him. He did, a lot.

Moments like these weren’t much of anything worth great sonnets or long professions, but it was certainly enough; hands caught up in hands, which untangled and tangled back into hair and shirts.

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Castle on the Hill

So, I’ve finally come out of shock and put this drabble together. I was feeling so many emotions from that finale, mostly happy (WE ARE ENDGAME) but some kind of nostalgic too. I came up with this offering, I hope you guys like it! Just my little interpretation of what could be. Thanks Ed Sheeran as usual for inspiration… First Give Me Love and now this.

I’m on my way, driving at ninety…
And I miss the way you make me feel, and it’s real. We watched the sunset over the castle on the hill.

New Orleans (19 months post finale).

“Where is he?” Caroline demanded, as the door to the compound flew open.

“Well, good afternoon to you too, darling,” Kol replied, raising his eyebrows in her direction. “Are you always this charming, or am I just lucky?”

“Nice to see nothing ever changes with you, little Mikaelson,” she shot back. “I’ve been driving all night and am not in the mood. You also didn’t answer my question.”

“Nice to see nothing ever changes with those high strung and control freak tendencies, Forbes,” he scoffed. “Plus, you’re not doing yourself any favours on scoring an invitation inside.”

“Kol.”

“Fine, come inside, sunshine,” he grinned, gesturing with his hand. Caroline stepped past him and made her way purposefully through the courtyard, realising only halfway that she had no idea where Klaus was and where she was going for that matter. “Can I get you something? Perhaps some AB positive or some much needed Xanax?”

“Kol,” she repeated, turning around suddenly to face him. She didn’t mean to be so abrupt but if she was being honest, Caroline was extremely nervous about their impending reunion and found that it was easier to be angry at Klaus and whomever was in her path because then she wouldn’t betray her real feelings. “Where is your brother?”

“I’m right here but I have a feeling I’m not the brother you’re seeking,” his prim accent sounded out from the upper balcony, making Caroline look upwards at the familiar Original. He was just as she remembered, still dressed immaculately in a black suit. “Good morning Ms Forbes, it’s certainly been a while.” Caroline had to fight the urge to roll her eyes, why couldn’t these people just answer a direct question?

“Yes and by the looks of it she’s still just as annoying as when she was planning those school dances,” Rebekah interrupted tartly from the other balcony. This time Caroline did roll her eyes, who was going to appear next? Finn, Esther or maybe creepy Mikael?

“While this whole Mikaelson reunion is absolutely charming, I need to find Klaus.”

“What business do you have with him?” Elijah asked, always the protector.

“I’m pretty certain that’s between him and I,” she answered. “But let’s just say I have something I need to give back.”

It was burning a hole in her pocket as she said it, had been since she jumped in her car and finally made the journey she’d imagined the past nineteen months. It had taken her longer than expected but Caroline put that down to the fact she’d been busy with running her school and after what she’d been through she also needed time to process things. She was equal parts annoyed and confused and had every intention of sharing all of those pesky feelings with the Original Hybrid. When she eventually found him, of course.

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Question Extravaganza Blog #2

Hi there! Remember, back in December, when we had an “End-of-the-year Question Extravaganza Blog”? And how there was going to be a second part? Well, FINALLY, here it is! Round two of our answers to the questions that you sent to us via Twitter, so long ago.

Who’s playing this time:

Tom – Localization Producer

Brittany – Localization Producer

Junpei – Assistant Product Manager/XSEED’s Garbage Disposal

Ryan – Localization Lead

Nick – Localization Editor

Alyssa – Product Associate

Liz – QA Tester

Danielle – QA Tester

WARNING: Spoiler alert, just in case! And maybe some language.

 

Question: which character from Senran Kagura New Wave would you most like to see become playable in a future game

Liz:

There are so many! Kasumi, Kumi, Fuga, and Bashou
    Kasumi - shy girl that can code her way into your heart? aw yuss.
    Kumi - ngl I like foxes. I’m also hella curious what her animations would look like…
    Fuga - dude it’s fireworks coming from a shamisen who doesn’t wanna SEE THAT. AND THOSE PLATFORMS. DAMN.
    Bashou - paintbrushes: creation, destruction, or the beauty that comes from their combination? tune in next time on quiet girls that can artfully kill you

Brittany:

Fuga. I’ve loved her design ever since I first saw it and I’ve actually begged Takaki-san in person to put her in one of the core games.

Alyssa:

Picking just one is hard, so these are the ones are the top of my list:

Meimei – She fights by throwing bombs shaped like steam buns. Just. Yes.

Ukyou – For some reason, I really like the idea of a machine gun shaped like a bass guitar. She’s also a cutie, I like her design.

Seimei – I like the fact that she rocks pajamas. I wish I could wear pajamas all the time…

Question: What is your most favorite game that you have localized And why?

Brittany:

Trails of Cold Steel II. I cried so much while working on it, haha. It was the game that made me feel like I was really growing up as a writer, and I was so proud of the effort I put into that during every step of the process. Everyone knows I love the series, but for now, that game has a particularly strong place in my heart because I feel like I grew as a person together with those in Class VII (is this too cheesy? lol).

Junpei:

Definitely the EDF series. I’ve been a big fan of the series since the first EDF came out in Japan, but also I learned a lot from the producer and the dev team. It was a very exciting to work on, and luckily, EDF2: Invaders from Planet Space was selected as a D.I.C.E  Award nominee.

Also, Touhou: Scarlet Curiosity was a favorite, too. The game is very fun and pretty. I didn’t really know about the Touhou series at first, but this was a good title for Touhou beginners like me to learn what Touhou is. The dev team is very passionate and professional. I was always impressed by them while working on this.

Ryan:

I have a few personal favorites: Estival Versus because I love the character banter, Deep Crimson for the same reason, and Suikoden V because it was my first real localization project and I still have a soft spot for it.

Alyssa:

I have a soft spot for Ys: Memories of Celceta. It was published before I started working here, but was the first XSEED game that I played.

Even though we didn’t really localize it (just published it physically), I’m a big fan of Shantae: Half-Genie Hero. Working with WayForward was an absolute treat and I’m so glad that we have a chance to do something with them.

Tom:

I think anyone who knows me knows my answer to this, but in case you don’t: RETURN TO POPOLOCROIS, BABY!! ;) The very first game script I ever translated was part of the script to PopoloCrois Story II on the PS1, which I translated in play-script format and uploaded to GameFAQs as a translation guide. After that, the very next thing I translated was all 51 episodes of the two existing PopoloCrois anime. I am a PopoloCrois super-fan, and when the opportunity came along to work on a PopoloCrois game, to say I was ecstatic would be an understatement. Getting to officially write English dialogue for Prince Pietro Pakapuka, Narcia the forest witch, the White Knight, and the GamiGami Devil was an absolutely amazing experience, and getting to sit in on voiceover sessions and help shape the way they sounded in English was the icing on the cake.

Corpse Party is a close second, though, because I was able to get much more graphic than I’m used to, and it was a bizarre amount of fun describing some of the most horrible acts of mutilation and torture imaginable. It was weird working on Corpse Party and Fishing Resort at the same time, as I had to keep stopping myself from inserting extremely graphic language into the Fishing Resort script.

And Akiba’s Trip: Undead & Undressed gets an honorable mention, as the three weeks spent in voice-recording for that game may be the most fun I’ve had in my seven years at XSEED.

Question: Where do you face the most unexpected challenges during the localization process?

Nick:

The thing about unexpected challenges is that they’re…well, unexpected. The things we run into the most frequently are things we know to be watchful for based on past experience (which is why we usually catch the major stuff). A good example of an “unexpected challenge” would be realizing partway in that we don’t actually have all the text files for the game, even though the developer said they gave us everything. Working on games that are still in production also has the tendency to turn up a lot of unexpected issues, particularly when the developers change things and neglect to mention that they were changed. If you learn that a localization was being worked on while a game was still in development, know that it was probably a huge headache for the translators and editors compared to working on something that has been finished and more or less finalized.

Sometimes it’s because there’s an honest mix-up and they thought they’d given us everything. Other times there’s a breakdown in communication along the way, as can occur when information has to pass through too many hands. So…ultimately, miscommunication is where we stand to face the most unexpected challenges. It varies from project to project, and we know to be mindful of it, but we can never fully predict when this sort of issue will pop up.

Originally posted by geekylaugifs

Question: Where do you try to draw the line between remaining loyal to the original and changing to fit the region you are localizing for?

Nick:

Every editor will give you a different answer for this, so I can only speak personally, but here’s where I stand on this issue. When I localize a game, I absolutely want the intent of the original to come through. That’s what people are coming to the work for - what they want to experience. However, sometimes, truly conveying the spirit of the original work necessitates departing from the exact language of the original.

If one facet of my job is about accurately conveying information and character relationships, another facet is to ensure people who buy our games are entertained and engaged. That happens best with a script that feels fairly natural in its English phrasing. A quick example is how, if you listen to people converse, most people make frequent use of contractions. They’re a natural linguistic shorthand for English, so it feels natural to make broad use of them in character dialogue. But I often see dialogue written without them (like, where it doesn’t strike me as an intentional editorial choice). Without contractions, at the most basic level, you’ll get dialogue that sounds wooden and has less flow to it (Tom and I often compare it to the speaking style of Data, from Star Trek: TNG), but in some cases, using or not using contractions can subtly alter the way we perceive a line, especially if there’s no voice-over to clue us in. “I cannot believe he said that about me” carries a bit more of a testy tone than “I can’t believe he said that about me.”

There are also cultural differences that, when translated over on a 1:1 basis, won’t elicit the same response from an international audience, so some tweaking is necessary to make sure Western players of a game experience enjoyment similar to what Japanese players would’ve felt. This is admittedly a touchy issue, since a lot of this involves getting a good feel for the characters’ personalities, and so is inevitably colored by an editor’s own interpretations of them. In a blog I wrote before the first Trails of Cold Steel was released, I laid out some cases where I basically felt that the characterizations provided in some places by the original script were lacking, so Kris and I embarked on a mission to strengthen characterization not through any sweeping gestures, but just by bringing certain traits more clearly to the fore in scenes specific characters were in. It’s something you might notice if you had the Japanese and English scripts side by side, but it never stood out to most players, and from anecdotal accounts I’ve read many places online, I think this initiative of ours was very successful. Certainly, I think it brought a lot to Rean’s character in particular.

Ultimately, I want a localization to keep all the information the original script gave, but sometimes I re-frame how that information is conveyed because I value entertaining/engaging writing and want our games to feel, as much as possible, like the English scripts could just as well have been the original scripts.

“So, where do I draw the line? As someone who always wants to push for better writing, I generally won’t make an edit - even if it would sound great - that would result in dropping factual information conveyed by the original. Not necessarily on a line-by-line basis, but definitely on a scene-by-scene basis. Ultimately, I want a localization to keep all the information the original script gave, but sometimes I re-frame how that information is conveyed because I value entertaining/engaging writing and want our games to feel, as much as possible, like the English scripts could just as well have been the original scripts.”

Brittany:

This question is too broad and no one should have one answer for it. It depends on the game itself, the context, the importance of the topic in question in the scope of the story, the emotional impact it’s supposed to make. The most generic answer I can give is that we should always remain loyal to the spirit/intent of the original game, and if anything comes under question, we should consult the dev team and get their perspective on it.

I guess an example that’s happened a few times throughout Trails is one where Japanese honorifics are dropped as people become closer. A big deal is made out of it, but that sort of thing doesn’t exist in English. At the same time, there’s no reason to force it in the English version because the name-dropping isn’t necessarily the focus–it’s the result of characters becoming closer. The intent is the bond, and as long as you write the scene so that English players understand these characters have become closer thanks to what’s going on, then I believe we’re still loyal to the Japanese while still properly localizing the scene.

Question: outside of trails in the sky sc what was the hardest game to work on you’ve released?

Brittany:

It’s a toss-up between Unchained Blades and Rune Factory 4. RF4 was a joy to work on because I’m a big fan of the series, but it also contains so many complex algorithms that even the Japanese version of the game occasionally had random bugs that just couldn’t be reproduced. Those were everywhere during QA, and then we also had had all that text that needed to be checked for context…

Unchained Blades is far shorter with less text, but it was plagued with bugs during QA to the point where I once ran to the bathroom to cry from losing my save data for the umpteenth time. We had no debug mode for that one, either, so anything I had to test, it had to be done by playing through like a normal player. Hopefully the effort was worth it. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of players experiencing the issues on that game that I had!

Ryan:

Probably Fate/EXTELLA, which had a lengthy, lore-heavy script with a long history behind it, plus a writing style that was both abstractly poetic and strictly technical.

Danielle:

I would say the Story of Seasons series, mostly because of the sheer volume of text and variables to test.

Question: which sort of cultural references do you try to keep rather than rewriting for localization?

Tom:

Generally, all of them. It’s always better to keep a reference, and just maybe insert a brief explanation, than to get rid of it. People who play our games know that they’re playing Japanese games, so I figure, why try to disguise the Japaneseness of them? Better to celebrate it.

Ryan:

Depends on the medium and context. Fate, in general, is known in part for drawing lore from all over the world, so we did our best to keep its references to world history and literature intact. Akiba’s Trip was chock full of Japanese-language anime references, some of which had only unofficial translations, so we did our best to cobble together appropriate translations from Japanese and English fan sites. SENRAN KAGURA drops references to well-known anime now and again, well-known enough that we can keep them intact, with an English take on their wordplay (such as when Katsuragi’s play on “a great era of sexual harassment,” referring to the “great era of piracy” from One Piece, became “a great invasion of privacy.”) Occasionally, we’ll run across Japanese proverbs that don’t have direct translations, so we’ll do our best to find English proverbs or wordplay that match the general sentiment of the original.

Question: What was the situation in a game that gave you trouble? Joke? A conversation? Interactions? Items? Names? Tell us the worse!

Tom:

Shiawase no Sachiko, in Corpse Party. To this day, I’m still not 100% satisfied with my translation there.

See, in the Japanese, there’s supposed to be a distinction between 幸せのサチコ (“Shiawase no Sachiko”), which roughly translates to “Happy Sachiko,” and 死合わせのサチコ (a different way of writing “Shiawase no Sachiko”), which roughly translates to “Sachiko Aligned with Death.”

The English I came up with for this is “Sachiko Ever After” vs. “Sachiko in the Everafter.” And even that vaguely acceptable solution took far, FAR too long to come up with.

Sometimes, Japanese linguistic references are just really tough to work with!

Ryan:

The first example that comes to mind is a certain “My Room” conversation from Fate/EXTELLA, where Nero and the Master have a back-and-forth conversation about different kinds of bathing. The original Japanese script had an entire conversation tree about misreadings of kanji, which had no direct translation. This is one of those rare times where we were tempted to, as we sometimes call it, “Go full Samurai Pizza Cats,” after the old anime dub where the American dub team never received the original script and had to make up a whole new one, but we stuck with it, and eventually came up with some reasonably close wordplay in English.

Question: Do you have friends in other localization teams/companies? What could you learn from them? Do you reach out to them?

Brittany:

I’d love to hang out with some of the localization people I’ve interacted with via Twitter, because I’m actually pretty ignorant of what goes on in other companies. I’m pretty much XSEED only, but I’d love to learn the process in other places or just bond with others who do the same work that I do.

Tom:

Absolutely! Other companies are “competition” to an extent, but they’re also colleagues, and we’ve met with people from numerous other nearby companies for lunch, karaoke, etc. many times since I’ve been working here at XSEED. I don’t know that we really learn much from them, nor they from us, but we always “talk shop” when we meet up, discussing localization challenges we’ve faced, fun stuff we’ve done recently, etc. It’s just good to sometimes talk with other people who fully understand what we do.

Ryan:

We’re good friends with the Aksys team down the street, a lot of our staff have Atlus experience, and most of the original senior staff came from Square-Enix. For Fate/EXTELLA, the Aksys guys were kind enough to share their notes and script from Fate/EXTRA as references. One of the best bits of advice I can give people looking for work in the industry is “Make friends wherever you go,” and that’s as true once you’re in as it is when you’re getting started.

anonymous asked:

I think you're a very nice person! Most of the fandom right now is either hating on Meiko all the time or criticizing something stupid about the new movie. It's nice to see someone being chill and loving Joe <3

[ Thank you for the compliment!!! You’re very lovely :)   Over the past year or so, I’ve said a few words about Meiko Mochizuki ( here and here ), but it seems like right now things are getting out of hand. I’m not great with words, but I would really like to clear the air about some things.

I completely understand constructive criticism and discourse about Meiko. She does have character flaws, as does the writing for her. The show hasn’t developed her completely, and doesn’t quiet know what to do with her sometimes, making us all think they’re dragging out her plot without answering anything. Digimon has had massive plot holes in the past–This isn’t something new for the series. But something I want the fandom to understand, is that Meiko is not the reason [insert Adventure kid here] “didn’t get enough screen time in their respective episode”. And Meiko IS NOT the reason we aren’t getting “02 kid story development”. The writers didn’t replace anyone with Meiko. They took out the 02 characters because THE PLOT CALLED FOR THE REMOVAL OF THE 02 CHARACTERS. That’s what’s happening. A series with TWELVE main characters as a focal point is extremely difficult. Right now, if it weren’t Meiko on screen, it would be Maki or Daigo “taking up screentime”. The 02 kids were not going to be included, and clearly the writers want to keep us in the dark for plot reasons.

Also–Here’s what I do not tolerate in this fandom: Hate. Especially hate based on Meiko personality and decisions. You can read about my views in those links above, but one main point that stands true for me right now is that I IDENTIFY WITH MEIKO ON A VERY PERSONAL LEVEL. I find her the complete opposite of a Mary Sue. Meiko, to me, is extremely realistic as a character. She has been reacting to everything that’s happening to her in the exact way that I would. She’s constantly apologizing because she thinks she’s burdening everyone. THAT’S A REAL PERSON TRAIT. She seems to do much better expressing herself when she’s one-on-one with characters who are outwardly gentle and kind with her, i.e. Mimi, Takeru, and Sora. And because of this, Meiko been a positive force in the development of all three of those characters during tri.

As someone with mental illness, I understand how Meiko feels. This girl has spent years with her Digimon in isolation, only to have it ripped away from her and for it to start causing MASSIVE trouble for the only people she’s met since she’s moved to Tokyo. I would be terrified and embarrassed and unbelievably, powerfully upset if I were in Meiko’s situation. Would my reactions make me the “annoying girl” to everyone around me? It might. But that wouldn’t make me an unrealistic person. I would be the person who beats myself up while all my friends just want to care about me. That’s who the Chosen Children are. Meiko doesn’t know that yet. She doesn’t know how unconditional their love for other Chosen Children is. She wasn’t there for Yamato and Taichi’s original power struggles. She wasn’t there for the acceptance of Ken. Is she allowed to be a Chosen Child and get to learn all of those things? Absolutely. The Chosen Children is a family that’s meant to grow exponentially.

Listen, Digimon fandom. I don’t have much say or weight in this fandom…but I want to start some SERIOUS Meiko positivity. I want to spread this like wildfire that Meiko is IMPORTANT. And most of all, I want to stress that if do not tag your hate and negativity, you need to check yourself. ]

People describe their experiences with school shootings on r/AskRedditt!

Part 1 of the passages I found most interesting.

User walinpch: “I was a Sophmore at Northern Illinois University when Cole Hall was shot up. At the time I was in my dorm getting finishing my school work before my girlfriend came out for Valentines Day. My roommate was just about to leave for class, which would have been in Cole Hall, when my RA came into our room and calmly told us there had been reports of a shooting and to not leave the dorm. At first it hadn’t really sunk in what was actually going on but then we went to the window and could see about 3 or 4 helicopters circling the campus. Then we turned on the news and realized how serious the situation was. During the first hour or 2 I remember getting calls from everyone I new seeing if I was ok and myself texting as many of my friends as I could to make sure they were all ok. Cell service was really bad due to the amount of people getting calls and texts. My roommate and my best friend both had the next class in the auditorium that was shot up. Another one of my friends was in building next to Cole Hall when it happened and had a bunch of injured people running for safety into her building. I think it was like a week before spring break so the school cancelled that week and when we came back to school Cole Hall was completely closed off. I remember the first few days back teachers weren’t really pushing students to complete assignments and more of them were interested in talking about what happened. They brought in extra sercurity to walk the halls which was a little distracting but they also brought in snacks and a lot of therapy dogs for at least the first weeks to help students feel more at ease. I also remember there was a lot of controversy about people treating the shooter as some sort of victim and people burning a cross or something like that, that was put out because he was someone who was ‘lost’ before the shooting. I’m not sure why that stuck with me. I remember the memorial going up right by Cole Hall but I still don’t know if Cole Hall is there anymore. I moved to AZ right after college and when I go home now to visit family I never have a car to take and visit. I still want to go someday just to walk around.”

User garglius: “Finally something I can answer to on reddit and its something as dark as this.

I was at Dawson College in Montreal when on September 13th 2006, Kimveer Gill shot up the school wounding 19 people and killing one girl.

I was on the 6th floor in a chemistry lab as it happened. My phone rang and I excused myself to answer it since its rare that it rings (I usually text). It was my mom asking if I was okay because there seemed to be a shooter in the school. I told her I was fine, and that it was probably just a fluke, since the week earlier we had been evacuated for a gas leak.

When I got back to class EVERYONE was on their phone or trying to look out the windows. Our teacher told us that we wouldn’t be allowed to leave class until further notice and that a suspected shooter was in the school. We could see swarms of cops surrounding the school and sirens were blaring everywhere.

A good while later, a police officer came to the door of our class to tell us that we had to stay there until the entire school had been searched (they did not know how many shooters there was at the time and were making sure everyone was safe). Once that happened and a cop came to escort us out, we essentially went through the school as if it was a maze (instead of taking the stairs down to the closest exit, they made us go down 1 or 2 flights, walk down halls, down different stairs, etc.) We did this until we got to the atrium, which was the room where the main shooting had happened.

In the atrium it looked like a battlefield. Broken glass, blood, abandoned bags and belongings everywhere. We got rushed out past what I imagine was Gill’s body bag into a flurry of reporters wanting to know how it was on the inside. I answered a few questions for one and then tried to meet up with some friends (which was hard, since cellphone lines were always full). Finally found them, and one of my friends dad drove us home after we stopped for some food.

Now to answer your question. After returning (which was 2 weeks after if I recall) all the classes were considered 'optional’ for a good amount of time. Classtime was spent talking about the events that unfolded and people were encouraged to share whatever they wanted to help them get through the tragedy. Class curriculums were reworked in order to accomodate a shorter semester. Exams were delayed or cancelled. My canoe camping trip was pushed from mid september to mid october (big difference temperature wisr in Canada). People were allowed to drop out from the semester without penalty. It took a good month for things to pick back up to normal pace and by the winter semester, you wouldn’t of been able to tell from the attitude of the students that something horrible had happened a few months prior. They did install a huge amount of extra surveillance inside the school though as they were fixing the damages caused.

So that’s pretty much it. I’d be happy to answer questions if anything is unclear or if it seems I left anything out.”

User Dudemancool3: “Well. Let’s just start with a basic summary. Low security at the gym section of Reynolds High School in Troutdale, OR. I was a freshman. The shooter was as well. It was the first day of finals, probably 6-14 minutes before class started and we began. Shooter was in locker room with “guitar case” and geared up when the lone victim Emilio Hoffman walked in. Shooter grabbed a gun and shot him once. Killing him on spot. Two teachers run over, shooter fires, grazes a teacher who runs out to office to put school in lockdown. Responders come and trap shooter. After that nothing exciting happens. I was sitting in the corner of my language arts class. In the dark. Listening to a police scanner. Eventually police escort us out with hands up and we get searched. The rat of the day and months following are a blur. Coming back was bad. They remodeled the gym so it looked different. I still walk in the locker room and bathroom and think “people died here”. I don’t feel safe in school and never will. I’m consistently on edge when in the main building. It’s worse in the gym. No one has felt safe. Every June 10th is worse. Some of us handle it better. Some of us don’t. The school won’t ever be the same. Ever. They can clean up blood and bullet holes but they can’t erase memories.”

User csp256: “One of the professors at my university (Amy Bishop) shot six other professors (who I didn’t know) in the face during a meeting before her gun jammed. Three of them died.

We all knew she was crazy and we all expected something like this to happen. She even made jokes about it the year before.

She came and talked to a “careers in science” style Freshman class, and during the Q&A she derailed the conversation to how tenure works and how cut throat it is to get, and another student asked what would happen if she was denied tenure. Her response, the one sided smile on her face, the way she said “well…” and laughed in the way that people do not laugh - every single alarm bell in my head went off. I knew she was planning on killing someone. I had the misfortune of growing up in a way where I learned at a young age to tell the difference between someone who was really fucked in the head and someone who just had a couple of problems, and I was 100% certain Amy Bishop was a killer. But, fuck, what was I supposed to have done?

Turns out, she had already murdered her brother, sent pipe bombs to people who stood in her way, wrote “fiction” books about someone who murdered their brother & kills people after being denied tenure, and had a history of physical violence with random strangers too. The university never did a background check. There was at least one other professor openly campaigning to have her fired because she was, uh, obviously a dangerously crazy person.

The day of, I told a friend of mine that there had been a shooting at our school. His first reaction was “Dr Bishop?”

I was off campus for the actual shooting, working across the street. Our workplace didn’t go into lockdown; we worked with kids. It was just a couple minutes after I first checked the news that she had been apprehended. 

They evacuated a building on campus while I was in it a couple weeks later because there was fears she had placed a Herpes virus-based weapon (she had done work on the Herpes virus). Turns out she was just talking shit - but it was what had happened in her book about herself.

I’ve never been in the room where the shooting happened. They retroactively took her name off of EVERY document it was on. Legal or not, all of her research got her name scrubbed off of it. We got a new slogan for our school out of it (“Charge On”), and we had therapy dogs come to every class for a week or two later. It never really effected me. I felt like I had been primed for it in some way.

Two weeks prior to this, my former elementary school had a fatal shooting. An abused boy was told by his addict mother that he had to earn for his family, and another student owed him money and wouldn’t give it back, so he shot him in the head. I don’t usually have a lot of sympathy for murderers, but I hope that kid gets the help he needs and manages to live his life. As I’ve been led to understood, he was pushed into it by his shit stain of a mother. Amy Bishop can burn, though.

It is a funny thing: In that “careers in science” class Amy Bishop talked to us about her research, where momentarily stopping and restarting a persons heart ~2 hours before heart surgery significantly decreased the damage caused by the much more invasive heart surgery. There is a symmetry between that, and the shooting in my home town.

PS: Never mind how her husband mighhhht have been complicit. He was seen giving her the bag with ammo et al the day of the shooting, and knew about most or all of her history… including her fan fiction of herself.”

User DunblaneUser: “Hope I’m not too late.

1996, when I was 7, a man came into our school and killed 16 children and their teacher. I remember that we were in the classroom down the hall to the hall where assemblies and PE used to happen.

Our Teacher was handing out our books when we heard the first round of guns shots. I remember not actually knowing what was going on but our teacher told us to get to the back of the classroom and stay quiet. She moved the tables infront of the door and started barricading them.

I remember the guns shots we’re in succession. Groups of two. I remember it took so long for the shots to stop, and I was just frozen. I was aware something was happening, but was mostly scared of how panicked and scared our teacher was. The look of fear on her face still haunts me. We waited maybe 3-5 minutes and then shots came in through the door. I remember there was no screaming but just curled up children on the floor. Our teacher stayed on the door whilst the gunshots came through. They hit chairs and the library near us. It went quiet then I just remember a single shot. We waited 10 minutes before my teacher went out. She told us to stay on the floor and hide till she came back.

The police came and we taken out of the classroom through the windows. We couldn’t go through the hallway because of the bodies in the gym. I just remember my mother running up to me in panic and hugging me.

We had a lot of time off, and we all went to the funeral. My mother took me out of that school and after I had to talk to psychologists, because my mother thought it was the best thing to do.

I’m now 27 and I’m still haunted by what happened that day. As I grow much older I feel much more responsible for what happened. Whilst children were getting shot, I was in a room hiding. I sometimes think of how those children would have grown up.“

User Denso95: “German school shooting, about 16 people were killed there in 2009.

I never came back to this school. I was in 7th or 8th grade, I don’t know. We had to stay in containers for like 3 years, then the school would be okay to go in again with many new things and security doors all over the place. I didn’t get to see that because I left school just before everyone else went in.

As long as the containers were built we had to stay in another school for a few weeks. They organized special rooms for us. Our school was a “Realschule” (Like Middle school), the other one was a “Hauptschule” (Lower Education School). So those uneducated “Hauptschüler” were laughing at us for what happened. People died, but hey… not a big deal - in their opinion. They were joking about doing something similar and simulated gun sounds. Like wtf?

So at some point in a lesson we heard noises very similar to gun sounds. That close after the main event some girls freaked the fuck out of there, screaming. The teacher and boys followed, other classes joined and it was a mass panic. I remember how I went into a guy from the other school, he was laughing and was amused by all the people running into him.

So, police arrived and we all were in their gym waiting for the officer to clear things out, people were crying and panic was still there. The reason for the noise was a construction worker and his hammer working on something. False alarm. School was off for that day.

From that day on our class got very quiet and concentrated when someone knocked on the door. The shooting was pretty brutal and he also shot through doors, if you’re interested in details, look it up: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Winnenden_school_shooting

The next room he would enter would be ours. Thank god someone called the cops that early - otherwise I’m not sure if I would be still alive.“

User AirHokie: “I stayed for the week of cancelled classes after the 2007 shooting at Virginia Tech. Lost a couple friends and an instructor that had become a good mentor and the only reason I was safer than they were was because I’d already stopped going to class. The place was a ghost town, minus the news reporters that acted like vultures every time I walked outside wearing anything maroon or orange.

I ended up tossing every piece of Hokie gear I had in a dumpster and hopping on a plane to Ireland, using the money I’d saved for school to instead travel for 3 years. I told no one except my brother.

At first it was rough - lots of drinking (before the shootings too). And every time I made the mistake of telling someone I was from Virginia, or even a former student at an American university, it was all they wanted to talk about. But once I (and my new friends) got out of Europe and the news cycle rolled on, this became less of an issue.

I returned to Virginia Tech in 2010 with a new set of problems, but one thing I remembered was how the time felt like a giant reset button. Everyone I knew that was there during the shootings was gone and the campus had very few reminders aside from the designated memorial.

Even today, with my regular involvement with Blacksburg and Virginia Tech, most either don’t know what really happened or don’t believe I was there. The only time shit gets weird is when there’s a security warning on campus (like the emails that got blasted to a bunch of schools last month).”

User GetTheHelOut: “I know I’m late to the party but fuck it I made an account just for this so here goes:

I was a freshman during the UCSB/Isla Vista shooting. It happened on a friday evening, so most of my floormates were out in the floor lounge watching TV. I was on my way down to a brother’s pre-graduation party when I ran into a friend who said shots had been heard and the building was on lockdown. Overall not many people knew it was very serious at the time, we had gotten plenty of alerts like this from campus security before because plenty of sketchy stuff goes down in IV. Once the lockdown happened we knew it was the real deal.

I didn’t know the names of the dead until the next day. The school held a candlight vigil where thousands and thousands of people participated – it was honestly the most beautiful and heartbreaking experience I’ve ever participated in. We walked from Storke Plaza on campus to a park in Isla Vista, where friends and family members had an opportunity to speak about their memories of our fallen students. I assumed that nobody I knew would be among the dead but I was wrong.

Two of my friends, Veronika and Katie, had been walking to get coffee and food, when they were gunned down. I know the place where they died. I walk or skate by it every day on my way to campus.

The experience changed me. I dropped out of school for almost two years and am just now coming back. I no longer have the same naivete about mortality or life that I once did.

But that’s not the worst part for me. The terrible part about a school shooting is that they are forgotten so quickly. I’m supposed to be a senior now; the only people who were in Isla Vista for the massacre are my class. A full 75%+ of students weren’t there for it, and the names and faces of my friends who died, as well as the four other victims, are almost erased.

I’m sorry for getting so emotional and for the terrible formatting (posting from mobile), but I needed to get all that off of my chest. Thank you for letting me do so.”

User BrokefaceHD: “Thurston High School shooting in 1998. I was a freshman and went to Springfield High School, Faith Kinkel was my teacher at the time. This was the “big shooting” that happened before Columbine. Kip Kinkel shot and killed his parents and then drove their van to Thurston High and opened fire in the cafeteria the next day.

The news spread fast across town to our school that morning, but it took awhile for all of the details to start coming in. Kids started being pulled from class as parents were hearing the news. There was an announcement around the second or third class of the day that there had been a tragedy at Thurston High and if we needed to leave that we please checkout through the office. Then it came, fourth period, the principal announced that Bill and Faith Kinkel had been found murdered in their home. Complete breakdown. Teachers stopped teaching, most were in the hallways holding each other and crying. Students just kind of left or wandered the school or went to common areas to find out what others knew.

My friend and I were in a computer typing class together that period, but we were also in Faith Kinkel’s Spanish class at the end of the day as well. There was no way we were going to wait around or step foot in that classroom. We grabbed our bags and checked out. We walked home together, mostly in silence, we both carried disc-men at the time and both tuned out the world. My parents waited for us, I had called from the office to let them know to expect us. My dad bought us pizza and we played video games, but anytime I started to feel a little better or momentarily forget the day, I would feel absolute guilt and sadness.

The whole thing was surreal. Luckily it was a three day weekend and I had plans to visit a friend in Bend (about 3 hours away). It was all over the news, but the distance of the weekend helped to escape it a bit. Returning to Springfield was emotional. I had my mom drive us by Thurston High, I wanted to see the memorial wall, it was heartbreaking, news vans still lingered.

When it came time to go back to school we were told we had access to counseling and of course anyone that was a student of Faith’s was not required to go to class. I went though, they had counsellors and we all sat and talked about her class and her. A lot of tears, lots of memories, we also had a handful of laughs remembering her. Faith Kinkel taught Spanish at Springfield High, and she was a great teacher (and I’m not just saying that because of what happened, I have had plenty of terrible teachers, she wasn’t one of them). She actually talked about Kip a lot in her class and would tell stories about their family vacation. She would share family pictures and show us different things they had purchased in Mexico. The school year luckily ended a few weeks later.

When the UCC shooting happened last year I was still living an hour from Roseburg in Eugene. It broke me for about a week, everything I had felt 17 years ago came right back. It’s always tragic and a bit terrifying when you hear about shootings and the like, but when it’s right in your backyard or it directly affects your life it’s hard to cope.“

User EricCornwell: “I was 12 at Westside Middle School in 1998. The direct changes to the school were that they closed off the areas where the shooting happened for a while, until they replaced the sidewalks and patched up the damage. Due to the media coverage, we all knew what the scene looked like. Many people handled the situation in very different ways. The majority carried on as usual, but with a twist. I don’t have citations to back it up, but our graduating class had more pregnancies and drug addictions among the actual graduates than any class before or after (we were handled pretty carefully in retrospect). Personally, I went weird and would alternate between “goth” kid and tie-dye, which got me a disturbing amount of negative attention, being in the semi-deep-South.”

User knightfall: “I went to Columbine and was a sophomore during the shooting.  We went to our rival school (Chatfield) to finish the year. We had classes, but a lot of them didn’t really do anything. Math was the only class that really tried to get back to normal. We also had tons of assemblies when random celebrities would show up.

The following year we returned to Columbine, I remember a lot of parents built a human wall around the school to keep reporters out. Things returned to normal fairly quickly the next year. It was always weird with the school being remodeled though. Area where library used to be was gone.

Getting your stuff back was a huge problem though. They kept our cars and other belongings for several months. This created a lot of issues as most high school students don’t have multiple cars to get to school. Also, a lot of us left our backpacks when we finally got out of the school. I always had my wallet in there, so I didn’t have any credit cards, ids, etc. Also, the sprinklers came on after so when I did finally get my stuff back is was moldy and mostly ruined. I don’t mean for this to sound whiny that I lost some belongings while others were paralyzed or even dead. Just something I never would have thought about had it not happened.

Edit: I seem to be getting a lot of the same questions so I’ll do my best to address them here.

Credit Card:. Debit card or ATM card would probably have been a better term for most.  I did have a credit card from my parents as they were teaching me credit.  I paid the balance not them.  I was in my twenties before I realized how credit card companies made money.  I was taught to pay the balance off every month to avoid interest and I assumed everyone did that.

Did I know the shooters: I was not friends with either of them.  I knew Dylan a little bit growing up, but did not really talk to him in high school.  If I remember correctly, Eric worked at a pizza place (Blackjack?) near the school.  They were both older than me and hung out with a different crowd than I did.“

Before The Light Seeps Into The Windows (An Adlock Fanfiction)

(As I am cleansing my soul against the past few toxic things that has been going on in the tags of this fandom, I decided to write more fanfiction. I honestly enjoyed writing the two involving Mary, and as I love her so much, I decided to have her as the center (sort of) of this fic. Warning though, this can get really sad as this is based on my own experience of grief so…. erm…. Still, hope you enjoy, loves! xx)

Originally posted by caffeinerebelqueen

Sherlock could still hear the gunshot echoing in his ears. 

Every step felt cold and numb, his mind replaying how the light left Mary Watson’s blue eyes. 

“I so like you. Did I ever say?”

There was so much pain in her voice. So much suffering. And she never deserved any of it. She was supposed to grow old and happy, from taking her daughter to school to taking photographs of Rosie before her wedding day. 

She was supposed to spend her years teasing John about how his hair had gone grey before her, or how he always forgets to buy some milk when he shops.

So how could Sherlock not feel responsible?

He remembered the first time he met her, ever so calm and accepting. With her genuine smile, she told him that she would help him have the only friend he ever had back, and he felt so foolish to have never thanked her. 

But now it’s already too late. 

How could she have given value to him – a sociopath who cares for no one – whose heart was cold and whose brain was fixated on people’s flaws than triumphs?  

Him, who is an addict, whose fix was to be exhilarated by other people’s demise and death?

Baker Street felt hollow. Upon hearing the news of her passing, everyone rushed to give John the comfort he could not provide. He was shut out by the man who used to believe in the best of him, and he had every right to do so. 

He didn’t even dare open the lights. As soon as he reached his flat, he felt his knees fall to the ground, hysterical sobs inevitably escaping his lips. 

His lungs felt like they were losing air, his entire body trembling. Before he could lose his tether to reality, he reached for his phone, calling the one person he had ever addressed the familiar emotion of grief to. 

Irene Adler. 

After three rings, the other line on the phone opened. 

“Mr. Holmes, I wasn’t –” Irene started off with a playful greeting, but once she heard the uncontrolled despair from Sherlock’s breathing, she was filled with alarm. “Sherlock, what happened?”

Sherlock could feel himself trembling more violently now, the image of blood and water filling in his senses. “I – I killed her. Mary… I killed her.”

“Oh my goodness! That can’t… No, darling. You couldn’t have…. Tell me what happened.” Irene replied, her voice filled with confusion and concern.

“For someone who claims to be smart, I can’t even comprehend that she’s gone… How can she be gone?” his voice was full of spite and poison.

Tears continuously fell down the his cheeks, one of his hands balled into a fist and the other holding the phone rather harshly. 

“I was just talking to her earlier. I was just standing next to her. And she merited value in my life by taking a bullet in my place… A bullet I was so arrogantly asking for…”

“Sherlock, please don’t say that. Please…” Irene was at a loss, her voice also breaking. 

“She is… she is my friend… And I made a vow to her… and John…” Sherlock continued, unable to even hold the phone right in his anguish. It fell to the floor, the light coming from its screen casting more haunting shadows against the dim walls. 

Sherlock gripped his hair, anger towards himself filling him completely. His sobs echoed through the halls, tired eyes unforgiving. Irene Adler stayed on the line the entire night, patiently waiting for him to pick the phone back up. 

Alas, when he did, she had five words ready for him: “Expect me in the morning.”

But she arrived much earlier, just a couple of hours shy from their last conversation, much too early for the light to seep into the windows. Sherlock had his face buried in his hands as he sat on his chair, face pale from exhaustion and eyes red from crying. Irene saw a couple of boxes in front of him, and a syringe, obvious implications of why he managed to calm himself down despite the earlier outburst of emotions. 

She knelt in front of him, much like how that exciting exchange in Coventry happened so many years ago in front of the same fireplace, knowing how much has changed since then. 

This was Sherlock’s first ever experience of grief – grief that he understood and accepted – which in contrast to what he felt for her fake death before, is much more pronounced and amplified. Irene completely believed that he called her for this very reason, for although the impact of the two instances are obviously approached differently, it is of the same nature. 

Her hand touched his, warm and gentle, causing him to look down to meet her eyes. 

She simply gave him a kind smile, and he could tell she also spent some time crying for Mary, whom despite having only met once, had she learned to loved instantly. Still, he appreciated how she was holding up considerably for his sake. 

He read into her expression that she was not rushing him to talk, and was merely offering her company. Taking her hand in his, he felt himself losing control of his emotions once more, his hold on her tightening as if it was the only thing keeping him upright in his seat. 

Irene’s other hand reached for Sherlock’s shoulder, her fingers squeezing it softly, holding him together. The detective felt frail and broken against her touch, and she was trying hard not to let her own tears fall even if her mind, she could also picture Mary Watson’s lifeless body. 

“This… hurts… so much.” Sherlock breathed against her hair, and Irene simply gave a nod, stroking his hair gently.

“I know… I know… But you should never blame yourself. Don’t.” Irene whispered, her hands cupping the sides of Sherlock’s face.

The detective’s head hung low, his agony evident in all his features. “It was much more easier when I didn’t know that what I was feeling was grief.”

Irene gave a soft laugh. “Some things are much easier when you don’t know much about them. That’s why it’s so easy to simply not get involved.You always win. You always overcome. You said it yourself… Sentiment. But feeling… and loving very deeply… Would you really say that you lost?” 

Another tear fell from Sherlock’s eye. “She wasn’t supposed to die.”

Irene nodded. “I know.”

And just like that, Sherlock fell into a fit of tears once more, breathing growing heavy. “It should’ve been… me…” 

He choked out the last word, heaving loudly as he tried to control his trembling body. Irene was shaking her head, wiping away Sherlock’s tears with her thumb. 

“Look at me.” she asked firmly. “Sherlock, look at me.”

Sherlock could barely see her, his eyes clouded with his own tears, but he could feel her warm touch against his skin. 

“Grief, sadness, love – these things can be painful, but you have to endure. Understand?” Irene breathed, her forehead touching his, eyes close. “It can be quite amusing, coming from me, I imagine. But you and I know that everyone, even you and me, are capable of these things.”

Sherlock could tell that she was holding in her own tears for his sake, and he closed his eyes as well, holding on to his fondest memories of Mary. 

“You said you made a vow, yes?” he heard Irene say, to which he nodded. 

“Then go on with it. In memory of Mary, save John… and their daughter.” Irene’s voice was cracking, but she held herself with conviction when she continued. 

“And most importantly, Sherlock, save yourself. Because if you don’t, it’s like letting Mary die in vain.”

“I do not know how to return the value she bestowed on my life.” Sherlock whispered, voice trembling in harmony with his tears. 

“Live…” the word escaped her lips like a plea. “Every time you feel like you’re lost, think of her. Think of how much she means to you and that she gave her life for you to live your own.” she continued, her arms wrapping around him as she didn’t want him to see that the tears had already escaped her eyes. 


John’s forgiveness did not lift the burden he was carrying in his heart. 

But he did feel a little lighter, knowing that this forgiveness meant he could go back to fulfilling his vow.  

He never got a chance to reply to Irene’s birthday greeting immediately, for John’s eyes were ever so attentive everytime he reached for his phone. But as soon as he gets the chance, he knows exactly what to reply to The Woman. 

I never got the chance to thank you. Expect me in the morning. SH.

But just like the day of his immense grief, he arrived much earlier, just a couple of hours shy from their last conversation, much too early for the light to seep into the windows.

Turn Back Time

A/N: Request 4 of the Birthday Celebration! Hope you enjoy it!

Request by @random-fandom-omg :  hey, first off all HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY, second of all would you be able to make an imagine where the reader can pause time, and she always pauses time in the middle of talking to Barry and confesses her love to him, but one time she forgets to freeze time?? I know it’s very confusing but I feel like it would be so cute!!!

Word Count: 1,115

Originally posted by lolurnotgrantgustin

One thing I knew was true, nothing would ever be the same. For the past few years, I’d been working side by side with some of the greatest people I’d ever know. And even after all we’d been through I wouldn’t change a thing… well maybe one thing.

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Family Traditions

Trigger Warning: Implied rape. 

My mother is a terrifying woman.

She has never hurt me, nor do I think she ever would, nor has she ever directly frightened me. Any fear comes from observing her with other people, people who have wronged her or me or someone else she loves in some way. It’s like a switch has flicked and she becomes a totally different person. Her voice becomes sharp and cold, it’s enough to make goosebumps prickle my skin. Her eyes become cold too; a dark void that show nothing but accuse their target of all. I’ve watched grown man crumble under her, a woman who barely scrapes 5'3" and has very little in the way of muscle. Yet there is something about the absolute rage that consumes her, that quiet, frigid anger, that makes the stutter and surrender. They give in to her will, or she shatters them.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t admire that ability. Though I’m a good three inches taller than my mother, I am equally as devoid of muscle and have none of her rage. I’m quiet and always have been meek. My mother never mocked me for this, nor did she try to change me. She has always been content to come to my aid, protect the thing most precious to her.

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Pennywise dis-arms in secret Comic-Con footage from Stephen King's 'It'

For all things Comic-Con 2017, visit our all-encompassing EW Comic-Con section

“It’s a great moment to be alive. Because It is coming back, after all this time.”

That’s how director Andy Muschietti introduced three reels of footage from the upcoming Stephen King adaptation as San Diego Comic-Con kicked off Wednesday night.

At a packed theater in the Gaslamp District, the director showed two scenes from the Sept. 8 movie and a new trailer — each progressively more disturbing than the last. None of it is being released beyond that theater, but EW was in the audience to recap what went down.

King himself appeared in a video message to torment his fans: “It remains one of my most personal works so I’m delighted it’s finally making it to the big screen,” the author said. “Enjoy this exclusive look… if you can.”

SCENE 1

The first preview showed the more Stand by Me elements of King’s epic novel about a group of abused outcasts who unite to take on the shape-shifting evil that feeds on fear and lives beneath their town.

It is a horror movie, but it’s not only that,” Muschietti told the audience beforehand. “It’s a story of love and friendship and a lot of other beautiful emotions. Our main characters are The Losers, as you know, and this clip is the first moment of the story when we see them blend and start forging that friendship.”

The shot opens on a summer afternoon. Picture perfect sky. A forest of emerald leaves. And five white blotches standing on a cliff.

This is only part of The Losers Club — Bill Denbrough (Midnight Special’s Jaeden Lieberher), whose little brother Georgie was snatched by It the autumn before; wisecracking Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier (Stranger Things’ Finn Wolfhard); small-fry and hypochondriac Eddie Kaspbrak (Jack Dylan Grazer); the logical, prepared Boy Scout Stan Uris (Wyatt Oleff), and chubby Ben Hanscom (Jeremy Ray Taylor).

Ben’s belly has a massive bandage on it, covering the “H”-shaped scar left there when the psychopathic local bully Henry Bowers (Nicholas Hamilton) tried to carve his name on the heavyset boy’s stomach.

These are happier times, though. The five boys are clad only in their tighty-whities, and they’re peering over the edge of the cliff into the green water of a quarry below. They spit over the side, trying to gauge how long the drop really is. Soon, they’re quarreling over who is going to be the first to take the leap.

“I’ll go,” says a voice from behind them. It’s Bev Marsh (Sophia Lillis), the tomboy with the scarlet hair. She parks her bike and removes her sundress in seemingly one motion.

The boys are dumbstruck. She’s not showing anything that a bathing suit wouldn’t reveal, but still… The boys would probably fall backward off that cliff if they had to look at her a moment longer.

But they can’t, because she’s rushing past them, not hesitating. Then she’s in mid-air, legs pedaling nothingness as she plummets fearlessly into the deep.

“Holy s–t, we just got showed up by a girl,” one of them snaps.

With that, each of them plops over the side — and the six kids, tormented relentlessly at school and each dealing with complications and pain at home that force them to grow up before their time, are finally just kids again. Splashing. Swimming. Stealing looks at beautiful Bev, who pretends not to notice.

Respect for their friend finally overwhelms their hormones, and the boys stop leering.

Then they’re all drying off on the rocks, and Ben — the newest of the friends — pulls out a little local history project he’s been putting together. “I first moved here, I didn’t have anybody I knew. So I just started spending time at the library.”

“You went to the library… on purpose?” Richie sneers.

There are newspaper clippings about an Iron Works explosion that claimed scores of lives. Another about “The Black Spot,” an African-American dance club that was burned down in 1962 by a group of racists — with lots of people inside.

“Why is it all murders and missing kids,” one of them asks.

“Derry’s not like any town I’ve ever been in before,” Ben answers. “They did a study once, and it turns out people die or disappear here at six times the national average.”

“You read that?” Bev asks.

“That’s just grown-ups. Kids are worse. Way worse,” Ben says. “I’ve got more stuff if you want to see it…”

Stan shakes his head. He doesn’t.

SCENE 2

There is a seventh Loser — Mike Hanlon, played by Chosen Jacobs, who is one of the only black people in the town of Derry, so he deals with abuse and hostility on a constant basis. He gets it worst of all from the bully Henry Bowers, who learned his hatred of Mike from his racist father, who in the book has spent years tormenting the Hanlon family.

Henry and his two cronies, Belch Huggins (Jake Sim) and Victor Criss (Logan Thompson), have chased Mike to a creekside, where they’ve pinned his face against the rocks. Outnumbered, Mike’s eyes search desperately for help. What he sees is a clown, watching him from the treeline.

The clown waves a hand… but it’s not his hand.

It’s a child’s hand, ripped off at the elbow. Pennywise (played by Bill Skarsgard) has been nibbling on the raw end, based on the blood smeared around his smile.

Mike squints. He can’t believe what he’s seeing. He doesn’t know it yet, but the demented glee the bullies are taking in beating on him is what drew It from its lair. Either they’re feeding off of It, or It is feeding off of their manic violence.

Maybe both.

The boys become even more unhinged. As Mike struggles, Henry lifts a softball-sized rock and raises it over his head, prepared to bash in the black boy’s skull.

Before he can bring it down, another rock whistles through the air and slams into the side of his own head. Henry reels back, stunned. The bullies look across the stream to see the six Losers.

Bev is standing closest, shoulders back, breathing hard. Braced for a fight. “Nice throw,” Stan tells her.

Ben, who has tasted violence from these guys before, isn’t about to let them do the same to another kid. He picks up another rock and hurls it across the stream.

“ROCK WAR!!!” Richie bellows as the bullies retaliate with a stone to the center of his forehead, knocking him on his ass.

After a barrage of rocks between the two groups, the bullies are wounded and Henry’s two friends limp off into the woods in retreat.

Richie, recovering from his hit, calls Bowers a “mullet-wearing a—hole!” as the bully recognizes defeat and chases after his friends.

Then we cut to train tracks (more Stand by Me vibes) and Mike is walking in the single-file line of his newfound friends as they cut a path through a field. “Thanks, guys, but you shouldn’t have done that. He’ll be after you too now,” he says.

“I guess that’s one th-th-th-thing we all have in common,” says Bill, who is also teased for his stutter. “Welcome to the Loser’s Club.”

The scene ends with the seven of them united as one.

“This is a meaningful moment in the book and the miniseries where the Losers discover the power of being together — the power that comes from being together,” Muschietti told the audience.

The young actors were also on hand and spoke about what the term “Losers” meant to them. “It’s cool to be part of a group,” Jacobs said. “We all want people who relate to us. But we all have our attributes that make us weird in the public view. So we’re okay being called Losers, as long as we have each other.”

THE TRAILER

The It presentation’s unsettling finale was a preview of the next trailer for the film, which won’t be released for another week. This returned focus to the movie’s villain — the nameless, shapeless evil that dwells beneath the town of Derry, Maine.

“Pennywise is one of the greatest monsters of all time,” Muschietti said. “The idea of reimagining Pennywise to me means it’s important to stay true to the essence of the character, but also bring some edge to it — something people won’t expect to see.”

The trailer begins with an aerial shot of tiny, perfect Derry: beautiful old buildings, a main street, tree-lined roads, and nice, quiet homes. A boy’s voice is heard. (It’s difficult to tell who, but I think it’s Ben Hanscom.)

“When you’re a kid, you think the universe revolves around you. That you’ll always be protected and cared for. Then, one day, you realize that’s not true,” the boy says.

There’s footage of Ben being held down by the bullies near a bridge. They’ve got his shirt pulled up, and Henry Bowers is carving his initials on the heavy kid’s stomach.

A car rolls by and slows down. Inside is an older couple, both of them looking at this outrageous violence. Then they roll away. As the car grows smaller, Ben sees a single red balloon rise from the back seat.

Then we see Georgie Denbrough, Bill’s little brother, in his yellow slicker, sailing a paper boat down a rain-swollen gutter. It vanishes into the mouth of a storm drain.

“‘Cause when you’re alone as a kid, monsters see you as weaker,” the boy’s narration continues. “You don’t even know they’re getting closer. Until it’s too late.”

In the blackness of the drain, two eyes glimmer. Then a face emerges. Pennywise the Dancing Clown. He’s holding the boat.

“Here… “ It whispers. “Take it …”

Then we see the street again. The storm drain. But no boat. No clown. And no Georgie.

“All the bad things that happen in this town are because of one thing. An evil thing,” Mike Hanlon says.

The Losers are flipping through ancient history, looking at woodcut drawings from centuries past, depicting clashes and conflagrations from Derry’s history. Throughout them, there is a familiar face in the crowd: the same one we just saw in the storm drain.

In the dim light of Bill Denbrough’s house, he follows a pair of small muddy footprints through the kitchen, where a tiny figure in a yellow slicker darts by.

He follows the specter of his brother into the basement, where Georgie — or whatever is pretending to be Georgie — is hiding beside a shelf. There’s rainwater covering the floor. The basement is flooded.

A pair of amber eyes rise out of the black surface.

“If you come with me, you’ll float, too,” Georgie’s ghost says cheerfully.

Somehow, Bill lives to tell his friends about the encounter: “I just saw something….”

“The Clown,” one of his friends asks.

“I saw him too,” chimes in Eddie, the weakest of the bunch, the most timid.

Then we see a fogged over blue window. Two orange glowing eyes stare from the face of the blurry clown. Deadlights.

“What happens when another Georgie goes missing?” Bill asks his friends. “Are we just going to pretend it didn’t happen, like everyone else in this town? Or will we stick together.”

On the soundtrack there is the hellish, throbbing chant of a thousand Georgies, shrieking “You’ll float, too… You’ll float, too… You’ll float, too…”

Then silence. Richie Tozier enters a shadowy room. It’s full of clown dolls. All different types. Large and small.

One of them turns its face toward him as he passes. Then another. At the center of the room stands an especially menacing one. Pennywise lifts his face, revealing needle sharp teeth, and lunges forward screaming in a way that suggests part rage, and part glee.

Then, it’s over.

Mercifully.

To Love is to Forgive- Part Five (Chuck x Reader)

Summary: You spent a year with Chuck when you thought Sam was in hell, and you fell in love. You were messed up pretty bad when he went missing, so it makes sense you’d be mad when he reappeared, right?

Word Count: 1,431

Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Four

You stared at him for a minute, thoughts a whirlwind in your head. He wanted to talk, now, after you’d told him you couldn’t do this? You were pissed. But you also wanted to just give in; you were tired of the conflict, and despite being a hunter, you weren’t a confrontational person. And then, of course, was the fact that you still loved him. You stood up, and words were coming out of your mouth before your brain had registered that you’d even moved.

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Complete

Request


It had been four years since you and Joe had gotten married. The two of you were so excited to finally settling down and having a family that shorty after the wedding, you two began trying for a baby. 

After a year and a half of trying, you began to get worried that something might be wrong. You had tried every app and read all of the forums about tracking your cycle but nothing seemed to work. It wasn’t until after Joe had talked you into going to see a doctor that you completely understood how slim the chances were of you getting pregnant. 

Your doctor ensured you that infertility was fairly common and discussed the many possible options of still having a child to you and Joe. It took you and Joe a few months to figure out what you were going to do. You both knew that you wanted children, there was no doubt about it but the question was how. You had done so much research on surrogacy and adoptions that you could pretty much teach a course on it if need be. 

You and Joe had decided on adoption. Ever since you were young, you always wanted to give your children a good life; a life full of happiness and unconditional love. Adoption allowed you to do this for children who otherwise wouldn’t. 

The two of you sent in your application and began all the necessary requirements of becoming new parents. Because you and Joe wanted a baby, you were put on a long list of potential parents that pregnant mothers would look through and meet up with couples who they liked on paper for a face to face meeting. 

Every time Joe’s phone would ring, you’re heart would skip a beat; hoping that the person on the line would tell you that you two had been chosen for a meeting, but that call never came. 

Nearly two years had passed since ‘Sugg’ was put on the list with no call back. You had almost forgot about it actually as things in you’re life started to pick up. You and Joe had adopted a puppy and were occupied with caring for him, not to mention the many times that Zoe and Alfie had asked you two watch their kids for a weekend. You and Joe quickly became the favorite auntie and uncle because you spoiled them all weekend long. 

You were reminded of you’re name on that list as you were scrolling through your mentions on twitter. You and Joe had mentioned your situation to his audience a few years ago, a lot of them sharing their thoughts and prayers with you guys, but as the years went on, the replies slowed. There were still a few persistent profiles who would ask you how you were doing and how everything was going. You often DM’d them back or simply favorited their tweets, letting them know that you were grateful that they cared. 

You sat on the couch thinking about the list and how long it had been since you first decided to start trying for children. Maybe you didn’t exactly be a newborn to complete your family. Later that night you had brought the idea of looking into foster care up to Joe. At first he didn’t really know what to say, when he was looking into adoptions options. After a slightly heated back and forth discussion, Joe agreed and thus began another long journey of interviews. 


“Ready love?” Joe asked watching you gather a few things. 

“Yeah, um is this place too clean. I don’t want to give off that kind of vibe.” You said looking around your flat that you had just spent hours cleaning. 

“Love, its fine. I don’t think she’ll hate us all of a sudden because the house is too clean.” Joe laughed before taking your hand. “But she’s not going to like us if we’re late.”

“Yeah, yeah you’re right. Sorry, let go.” You said letting Joe pull you towards the door and out to your car. 

You sat fiddling your thumbs as Joe drove you two where you were meet your new family member. About a month ago when you were visiting a foster home, you and Joe had fell in love with a stunning little girl named Ellie . She was 12 years old and had come straight up to you and Joe as soon as you had walked in. You had sat down and with her for hours and talked about everything that was on her mind and protested slightly when it was time to leave. Ellie gave you a quick hug before running back to her room and you knew right then and there and she was the one for you and Joe. 

As you two pulled up to the house, you saw your little Ellie watching you from the window, her smile growing as she recognized you a Joe. She moved away from the window as you and Joe got out of the car and made you way up to the house. The front door open revealing the care taker, Miss Taylor, who you had spoken with so many times in the past month followed by Ellie who pushed her way out of the door and into your open arms.

“You guys came back!!” She squealed as you hugged her tightly and letting her go so she could move to hug Joe. 

“Of course we did love.” Joe said giving her a squeeze before looking up at Miss Taylor who had now met you guys halfway. 

“I’ll just need you two to sign a few more papers and then she’s all yours.” Miss Taylor said giving the three of you a smile, making Ellie grab your hand and pull you into the house. 

In no time at all, the papers were signed and just like that, you and Joe were now parents. After years of trying and anticipations, you finally had a daughter who you could care for a love and for the first time since you had gotten married, you felt complete again.

archiveofourown.org
Felicity Smoak and the City of Gold - acheaptrickandacheesyoneline - Arrow (TV 2012) [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/5
Fandom: Arrow (TV 2012)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Characters: Oliver Queen, Slade Wilson, Patience and Fortitude the New York Library Lions, Felicity Smoak
Additional Tags: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Remember the fic I’ve been talking about only as IndyFic, This is Indyfic, Indiana Jones inspired, If you think you recognize a plot device or nod from somewhere you’re probably right, I have stol…Borrowed so much, From Uncharted to Indiana Jones to The Mummy to Clive Cussler books to Aladdin
Summary:

She didn’t plan on ever having an adventure unless it said ‘turn to page 34 to open the door’, but somewhere between being kissed in the library and running from a one-eyed man with a gun, Felicity was pretty sure adventure had found her whether she wanted it or not.

It’s like The Mummy, only not really.

~~~

Author’s Note: This fic has been over a year in the making now, and I owe so many people thanks for the help they gave me along the way. First, to @dettiot, for being the first person to cheerlead for me on this, and for the beta work to make this first chapter pack some punch. Really, the entire fic idea wouldn’t have happened without your comment about Robbie Amell’s Twin being a patron that one day. Happy birthday!

I would be remiss if I didn’t thank all of the people who betaed for me with all the drafts that this went through. @andcreation, @adiwriting, @ohemgeeitscoley for their grammer catches and tense hunting, and @ellefraser17, @almostvivian, @lynslogic and @nightkeepyr for yelling at me with excitement as they read. Couldn’t ask for better cheerleaders!

Many MANY thanks to @green-arrows-of-karamel for assistance with later chapters and answering my many questions about Venezuela! 

Finally, there will be artwork throughout this fic. This chapter features BEAUTIFUL art from the wonderfully talented @cherchersketch

~~~

Tagging the few people that expressed interest in knowing when I posted this: @thatmasquedgirl, @realityisoverrated-fic, @imusuallyobsessed

Read it below or on AO3


Growing up, she had never planned to be a librarian. Felicity’s life had been computers from the moment she built her first one at age seven, all the way through her graduation from MIT with her Masters at age nineteen. While IT work had never been her ultimate goal — she couldn’t think about a life of telling people, “have you tried turning if off and on again” and not lose her mind — she knew it would have been the first step into a company through which she could then rise the ranks.

Of course, by the time she had graduated, the economy had gone down the toilet faster than her hacktivist days had. Given that the only other job she could find was working part time at Tech Village in her own personal version of hell, clearly the best option was to go back to school to get another degree, especially if she wasn’t the one paying for it.

Growing up in Vegas with an income coming only from her mother’s waitressing, she spent a lot of summers in the library, reading programming books, joining in on book clubs they had going on, or even a few of the arts and crafts things. Of course, that had all been when she wasn’t old enough to be allowed on the computers that weren’t just full of learning games.

She could have gotten around those blocks in a minute now, but at eight years old, it was a different thing entirely.

Basically, she had good memories of the librarians and libraries from growing up. When she did her research and saw that it would take a year, at most, for her to get her degree in Library Sciences, Felicity didn’t think twice before resigning her lease in Boston for another year. That was followed up with an email to her old advisor to let them know she was interested in coming back to MIT and could she maybe sign up for courses even though it was technically after the due date?

As it turned out, having masters in both library science and computer science & cyber security, along with a minor in Latin America studies (a few electives here and there and the next thing she knew, she had somehow gotten a minor) made her quite a catch for any library that was hiring.

The main branch of the New York Public Library had given her an offer she would have been stupid to refuse. Not only was it in New York, where she knew she could still apply for tech jobs while she worked at the library, but she would also have full access to their archives. Plus, moving from Boston to New York wasn’t all that expensive, especially once she had gone through her belongings and had donated what she didn’t need.

Keep reading

Blue: Pt.18

Originally posted by kihn

Previous part: [Pt.17

Warnings for this part: none


Yuna’s POV

I stood still in front of the big window that was making it possible for the room to drown in sunlight. The sky was free from any clouds that could have covered up the bright sun. The color of the sky irritated me. I felt sick watching the bright blue, cloud-free sky.

“Don’t even think about escaping through that window while I’m gone,” Hoseok’s voice stated and I lazily turned around.

The male stood in the hallway, getting ready to leave. His expression was the same usual: cold and nonchalant.

“I make no promises,” I dryly said.

He wasn’t amused, as usual. I observed his movements and expressions. Everything he did was just so different from what I was used to.

“Is she still sane?” I asked, quite nonchalantly.

He stopped and looked over his shoulder. “_____?”

I nodded.

He let out a soft sigh. “I don’t know. She’s been sleeping, or trying to sleep, since we brought her back. Minhyuk is quite persistent on making sure she doesn’t lose herself in the middle of all this bullshit.”

I never really cared about the girl but since she had always been important to Eunkyung, I hadn’t dared to let go of her. Besides, she was, in a way, one of the only pieces of Eunkyung I had left. It was like she was a book. A book filled with stories, ones that I hadn’t heard yet, about her. I was never one to burn books.

“I’m going,” Hoseok said before walking out of the door.

I was too lazy to even sigh. The floor seemed comfortable enough so I sat down and leaned on the wall under the big window.

“Were we always like this?”

To pass time, I had started talking to myself. Being inside all day by yourself really had aftereffects on me. At least I could now say I had a hobby if someone ever asked.

My hobby is talking to myself about the stupidest of things.

“Were we really always so nonchalant? I don’t think so.”


I hate to be the one to drag you down a memory lane but no can do. It’s the only way to explain.

Everyone was happy at six years old, right? I know I was. Life was fun back then, exciting even. School hadn’t become the main source of stress in my life yet, learning felt rewarding back then. I was never a social butterfly but I was a chatterbox around my friends. Especially my closest ones.


“The three musketeers,” I snorted with a smirk, reminiscing about my old squad.


I had a friend around three years older than me. He was always like a big brother to me. That’s how close we were. We did everything together since my birth and I spent a lot more time with him than I did with my parents. I never lived a day without him. We were always inseparable. Like we had been glued together.


“Brother…”


Hoseok always had my side. When I was confused with my sexuality, he supported me and helped me overcome my parents’ disappointment and anger. His disappearance, his change, showed me off the path to a good life. Everything went downhill after he disappeared with no explanation. He left behind nothing, not a single clue about where he could have gone. Sure, his behavior had been weird for some time but his disappearance came as a shock to me.


“If only I knew what went wrong. Maybe I could give Hajoon an explanation.”

Hajoon, oh, Hajoon. The adorable youngest member of our small squad. Without doubt, also the sweetest person anyone could ever meet. Almost like a little brother to me. He was the kind of person who would always be there to cheer me up when I was feeling down. Not that he was jokes only, no, he had a lot in his mind and heart. A lot of worries, a lot of darkness. Still, he never became like me and Hoseok; a blue-blooded weirdo. For that, I thank the heavens.


“That dork,” I couldn’t keep my smile away while thinking about him.


The fact that Hajoon was Eunkyung’s coworker really was just a pure coincidence even though it seemed unbelievable. We met a few times but only greeted each other with small smiles and carried on with our lives. Hoseok’s disappearance really ripped us all apart. We grew distant over time.


“The three of us running around the neighborhood, pissing off everyone with our loud laughter… I miss that.”


I had always been quite shy around girls, maybe because they always made me nervous. I didn’t have many close female friends growing up. Hoseok and Hajoon were the only close friends I needed. They were my brothers and they were the best friends one could ask for. When I had a hard time trying to figure out who I really was they were there for me unlike my parents or anyone else for that matter.



An hour or two would quickly pass by while I talked to myself. Before I even knew it, Hoseok’s footsteps returned and filled the apartment with their familiar sound. I listened to them with my eyes closed while leaning on the wall behind me lazily.

“Still breathing?” the guy’s voice asked.

“Still breathing,” I answered shortly.

A silence followed. Slowly, I opened my eyes to look at him.

His features were still the same. The handsome face that had had everyone running after him was still there. The well-built body that had kept my bullies away was still there. The only thing missing was his bubbly, sweet personality. The only thing that made him, him, was gone.

“What’s your weakness?” I asked quite nonchalantly and he turned his head. “You’ve never talked about it.”

“Well, what did you expect?” he said.

“What is it? Have you not discovered it yet?” I ignored his statement.

No matter how many times I look at those icy eyes I still can’t seem to get used to them…

“I have,” he calmly answered. “It’s my friends.”

I almost gave a laugh. “How not surprising.”

“What do you mean?” he asked and frowned in confusion.

“It’s nothing,” I avoided the topic.

I honestly did not expect anything else… You’re still the same… Deep under that thick cover, I guess.



Kihyun’s POV

I really wanted to make the sun disappear from the sky. It was so irritating that I almost started yelling at it in the middle of the park. Almost. But I didn’t. Not that I was in any way worried of people hearing me. No, I was just too lazy to yell. I wasn’t exactly in the mood for it.

Trying hard not to go crazy, I lifted my gaze. The woman who had been my nuisance for the past six years was playing with her five-year-old daughter. I really wanted to just ditch them and go die in a hole somewhere but couldn’t bring myself to do it. Watching them was hypnotizing in its own way even though I mostly thought it was a nuisance.

“Mom look!” the small girl yelled with an annoying voice. “A butterfly!”
The woman gave her daughter a smile that I had already seen a lot. She was a happy human. For the most part. She chuckled when the girl started running after the flying bug.

I wanted to curse when I noticed she was heading towards the tree I was standing under.

Great choice of direction, butterfly.

Not finding the thought of her running into me pleasant, I moved to my right. If she kept her direction, she would hit the tree trunk. A win for me. Except that she liked to be an annoying little girl and decided to move at the last second. She collided with me, making my cover disappear.

“Oh?” she looked up at me with wide eyes. “You’re here again Mr. Nightmare?” she asked with an annoyingly happy and innocent smile.

“You aren’t supposed to be happy to see me,” I growled and disappeared from her sight.

“I know you’re still here,” she chuckled and followed me around the tree. “I can’t see you but you’re still here, right?”

“Bona?” her mother called her name, ending our ridiculous chasing game. “What are you doing there?”

The girl looked in my direction despite my invisibility and then gave me a small smile before hopping over to her mother. “There was a squirrel in the tree,” she lied.

I didn’t know why I was being harassed by that human. Every time I was there to babysit her mother, she somehow managed to spot me. It was almost as if she sensed my presence or something. But that wasn’t possible, obviously. Humans didn’t have that kind of powers.

It wasn’t only the fact that she always noticed me that irritated me. She had also given me a freaking name which was infuriating. What irritated me even more though was the fact that that brat always lied to her mother about me. I felt like she was making fun of me. It made it clear that she didn’t mind me.

I looked how the two started walking away, holding hands and laughing at something. I almost wanted to snort but didn’t want to waste any energy on doing so, so I just started walking away with a sour expression.

Humans were what I liked to call the root of all evil. They were the reason I was what I was. Their greed and stupidity were infuriating. I never had too much trouble fitting in the X Clan. They were just like me; wounded and full of hate. The only thing that I was ever hesitant about was actually killing humans. I never wanted to be a part of that side of the clan.

I had my reasons, just like everyone else in the clan. None of them were there just because they felt like it. There was always a story behind a member of that complex organization. Mine?

There used to be a time when I was happy. A time when I had a source of happiness. A time when I had an actual reason to live. A time when I still had my weakness.

A friend. A very close one. That’s what it ever was. A friendship. One that suffered a tragic and infuriating end.

Shortly after I had changed I found a friend. He was a brother to me. We just connected in a way no one else did. We really made each other laugh and time passed by too quickly when we were together. No amount of time would ever give me enough time with him. He was my source of true happiness. I loved him from the bottom of my heart. He was my best friend.

He was the reason I started hating humans. Because of what happened to him, I joined the X Clan. What happened to him, you ask? The thing anyone could guess. The story is very predictable.

He didn’t show up at our usual hanging place, at the old park near the river that divided the city in half. It wasn’t like him. Nothing like that had ever happened before. We had always met on Wednesday evenings. But that Wednesday we didn’t. It wasn’t his fault though.

Turns out he had been “captured” by humans. I never found out how it all went down but I knew it probably was caused by some sort of an accident. They must have seen his blood and taken him to a laboratory or something to run tests on him. That eventually killed him. Tests. They ended up draining out all the blood in him. He was killed by humans’ curiosity and carelessness. He had been killed because his blood was blue. He had been killed by the people who made his blood like that. It really tested my nerves because they saw him, their creation, as a threat.

After losing happiness in my life, I joined the X Clan. Maybe I did it to get my thoughts away from him. Maybe I did it to take revenge. The reason was unclear even for me. What was clear though was that my days with the Clan were a very shady, dark time for me. If it hadn’t been for the six others I would have become something very different by now. The thought gives me shivers.

Affection is an illusion. That’s what I think about when I see people caring for each other. I used to understand it a long time ago but not anymore. Losing my source of happiness did that to me.



Meanwhile…

You flinched awake. It was almost like you had been underwater for too long, you were gasping for air. Your lungs hurt.

You struggled to sit up while still gasping for oxygen. Your body ached in enough places to say that your body felt like it was broken everywhere.

When your breathing started to calm down you finally looked at your surroundings. White walls and natural light surrounded you. The environment was very different from the nightmare you had been trapped inside. When you looked to your left, you saw a window surprisingly familiar.

“Are you okay?” you flinched at the suddenness of Minhyuk’s voice.

His face was expressionless but his tone had sounded concerned.

You opened your mouth to speak but no sound came out. You felt the air flow in your throat but nothing could be heard.

“It’s okay, don’t force yourself,” Minhyuk said calmly and walked over to the bed where you were sitting. “I’m honestly not the least bit surprised. After all that running in the cold, wet forest it was only a matter of time until you caught a cold.”

Now that you thought about it, your throat did feel sore. You hadn’t paid attention on it thanks to all the other pain you were experiencing.

There was a silence. You felt slightly frustrated for not being able to talk.

“It’s Friday,” he told you. “It has been three days.”

It felt like one…

The room felt comforting. It was very familiar and yet somehow, in a weird way, it seemed unfamiliar. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t been there for a long time. Where? Home.

“A lot of people have visited,” Minhyuk broke the brief silence and earned a confused look from you with his statement.

“Your mother, for example,” his voice was weird and your eyes widened in surprise at the news. “She was really worried. She told me that she had almost reported you missing after you hadn’t answered her calls. She said that she would have gone to the police if you hadn’t been home.”

You kept looking at him, eager but also anxious to know how their meeting without you had been.

“I told her that we went on a camping trip and got lost after our phones ran out of battery.”

You pointed at yourself and then at him with raised eyebrows.

The two of us? Camping?

He just nodded.  

“At first she was really suspicious about me. After I let her in and let her come see you, she slowly started to believe me. I lied to her that we were coworkers and friends. Unlike I had expected, she actually seemed quite pleasantly surprised when I told her how much time we spend together.”

You furrowed your eyebrows slightly.

“She smiled and said she ships it,” he calmly worded and you were surprised and weirded out. “I didn’t understand so I just gave her a smile.”

You really wanted to yell at him a little - a lot, actually - but instead just crawled to the edge of the bed and attempted to get up to go over to him and shake him roughly. You ended up on the floor instead, as a result of you falling over the edge thanks to your hurried actions.

He came to help you up but you ignored his helping hand. Instead, you grabbed his arms and started shaking him quite roughly, frustrated and somewhat embarrassed. He looked extremely confused.

“Why are you acting like this?” he asked, oblivious.

Now she thinks we have something going on between us!

You felt embarrassed and shy. For whatever reason. Maybe it was the thought that when he found out about what it meant he would be disgusted. Or maybe the thought of you two being together like that was just too much for you to handle. It gave you mixed feelings.

“Are you okay?” he questioned after you had calmed down.

You just hung your head low and tried to collect your thoughts.

“______?”
This shirt…

Your heart skipped a beat and you froze. There was no doubt that your face was already red. Slowly, you looked up and at him. He looked innocent as ever.

“What is it?” he asked.

For some reason, you felt both shy and angry. The thought of him changing your clothes was just straight up disturbing.

“Why are you so red?” he kept the innocent look on his face.

You pointed at the shirt on you, which happened to be one of Minhyuk’s. He looked at it and then at you. His expression didn’t change.

“What?”
Not being able to talk really frustrated you and your actions were bigger and more aggressive the second time you pointed at the shirt on you.

“The shirt?”

You nodded.

“What about it?”

With somewhat angry actions, you pointed at him.

“Yeah, it’s my shirt,” his answer infuriated you.

You continued to point at the shirt and then at him, going back and forth countless times before he spoke again.

“You’ve worn my shirts before. I don’t see what the problem is?”

You groaned - or attempted to - and climbed back on the bed. You hid under the thick blanket and tried to think about anything but the scenario of him changing your clothes.

You would have been lying if you said it didn’t disturb you. But, in a way you also felt slightly regretful - even though you didn’t admit it. Why had it had to happen under such circumstances? You didn’t even know why you thought that way. You weren’t even sure if those were your thoughts.

“Seriously, what-“ he was cut off when you kicked the blanket and accidentally kicked him too.

He let out a sound that really made it clear that you had kicked him somewhere very painful. You, for a second, thought about checking if he was okay but decided against it because of how frustrated and shy you were feeling.

He deserved that, to be honest.

“Let’s talk later, I guess,” he said, sounding like the kick had hurt him quite a bit.


Next part: [Pt.19]

Other parts: [Masterlist]

Fairytale Man (Doctor Who x Reader)

Summary: You became a foreign exchange student to see the world. Instead, you saw the universe.
With the help of a man in a blue box, of course.

Pairing: Teenager!Companion!Reader x Tenth Doctor (Platonic)

Notes: This is my first ever Doctor Who fic! I’m excited to take the plunge, as I’m finally getting back into the show.

Disclaimer: There will be no romantic relationship between The Doctor and the reader, as the reader is only a teenager in this fic. I want this story to be centered around the main theme between companions and The Doctor: two great friends exploring the universe.

Originally posted by shhh-no-ones-home

The cold winter air invading Britain had everyone and everything feeling the same way: gloomy. Formerly plowed streets were beginning to be given a new thin blanket of snow, while the piles and buried grass hardly noticed nature’s far from warm gift. The clock was hardly striking 5, but the thick clouds overhead made it feel as though dusk was nearing.

Snowflakes clung to your coat and eyelashes as you walked down the sidewalk of a mostly forgotten road. Your black jacket and maroon bottoms stood out in the monochromic geography, and your hands remained cold despite their place in your pockets. The sidewalk ran alongside a park, a park that had grown to be neglected over the years. It was old to children, as some of their parents had memories of running in the open grass and bobbing up and down on the now rusty teeter-totter. And yet, they kept coming back. You were never sure why, as much of the city’s more intimate parts of history remained a mystery to you. An effect of being an exchange student, you supposed.

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