#like I’m totally outside all of this subject matter

[lilyblisslys]

question for other transfemmes, how do you feel listening to lesbian/wlw pop music? Thinking like Boy Genius, Hayley Kiyoko, Chappell Roan, etc.

other examples bc apparently not everyone is dating someone who loves sad softpop would be like, Scene Queen, Phoebe Bridgers, Lucy Dacus, uhh I think mitski is bi(?)

#I wanna like it but I get major impostor syndrome #like I am not the kind of girl yr talking about fucking and I know it lol #like I’m totally outside all of this subject matter #which feels isolating as all hell #trans

[coolshadowtwins]

SVSSS System Reveal Fic round up!

If you know one that hasn’t been recc’ed, then please put it in the comments/tags! I’ll add it to the post!

A Transmigrator and a Time Traveler Walk into the Bamboo House by VeryCharismaticDragon

Over a year after Shen Qingqiu's death, Luo Binghe consults his servant's servant, concurrently his disgraced martial uncle, for a way to bring the love of his life back. Shang Qinghua sends him in the direction of a certain time-traveling artifact, which supposedly brings one to the day they first met their soulmate.

Odd, though, that the artifact ends up missing the destination by just a few years…

A story in which post-Abyss Luo Binghe relives his disciple days, while juggling his secrets, traumas, and some unexpected revelations about the man he loves on top of that.

What is Seen by CaveteDracones

…is not [always] the real truth.

Truth-compelling artifacts in the hands of an enemy to one side, SYSTEM-mandated silence on the other, and Shen Qingqiu caught between the two. Is it too late to go back to the Water Prison? (NOTE: This one was recommended three times, and I have personally reread it multiple times. It’s one of my favorites and I really do want to read more fics in a similar vein lol)

open my lungs to let you in by ghostybreads

Shen Qingqiu had a secret. So, naturally, it was only a matter of time before he was hit by a truth serum wife plot.

//

“How are you?”

“Horny. Kind of want Binghe to rail me, I guess. But it’s manageable.”

Liu Qingge’s hand on his forehead froze, and he was close enough that Shen Qingqiu could hear his breathing stop. He stared back expressionlessly, the mortification distantly crawling up the back of his neck. Honest One-Horned–

The frustrated scream that he usually vented in his head, came out straight from mouth.

“aaAAAAAHHHH GODDAMNIT AIRPLANE–”

Futility in Practice by TGP

When Luo Binghe is fourteen years old, his shizun suffers a terrible qi deviation and fever that completely changes who he is.

and judgment is just like a cup that we share by Kieron_ODuibhir

The blob finished rotating into place in a way that wasn’t quite compatible with geometry as Shen Qingqiu understood it, and cleared a throat it didn’t seem to have.

“Greetings,” it said, somehow clearly addressing him in particular more than the room as a whole despite its total lack of features other than blueness and translucency. “I’m here on behalf of the Hyper-Celestial Peace and Order Enforcement Bureau. Crime scene secure, proceeding to interviews. Beginning with Subject One: You are Shen Qingqiu, formerly Shen Yuan, also known as Peerless Cucumber?”

First, do no harm by Terias

Shen Qingqiu has been acting especially erratic since awakening from his three day coma after a severe qi deviation.

Mu Qingfang investigates and discovers a great many things about his new shixiong. (NOTE: This one has Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu as the same soul, technically, but it still works I think!)

Show The Screenshots by A_Non_ymousWriter

When a rogue foreign System sends out a subtle virus, some outsiders are shown chat messages between a certain two transmigrators and their Systems.

AirplaneBro: nah dude shen jiu would never lay a hand on his female disciples like that, hes gay

Liu Qingge tripped on thin air while Mu Qingfang choked on his tea as Shang Qinghua (their god? creator??) casually shattered their view of their original Shen Qingiu. The fake Shen Qingqiu at least, was sharing their shock.

CucumberBro: EXCUSE ME WHAT??

CucumberBro: The fuck he is?!?! He literally GOES TO BROTHELS! LIU QINGGE FOUND HIM IN BED WITH A WOMAN THAT ONE TIME?

AirplaneBro: aight bro buckle the fuck up cuz imma take u on a joyride all about shen jiu >:)

—————-

Binghes#1Fan: I don't want to send Binghe into the Abyss...

System 2: User must comply, if User cannot do the task User will be punished and the account will be terminated.

Mobeis #1Fan: sorry bro unless ur okay w being ded af u gotta push binghe into the abyss

Ning Yingying's fists clenched. Okay, so trying to get Yuan-ge and A-Luo together would be harder than she thought.

#svsss #shen yuan #shen qingqiu #shang qinghua #liu qingge #yue qingyuan #luo binghe #shen jiu #fic rec #fanfic rec #system reveal

[lavendertales]

Hii! So I'm here to make a request, you can totally ignore this if you don't like it, I just really like your writing and wanted to pass this idea to you ♡

It's a angsty with happy ending story, hope you like it ♡

So the idea is that Joel and reader (established relationship) are kinda new in Jackson, but Joel being Joel is not very used to being there yet, so he doesn't tell anybody that he is in a relationship with reader bc he is scared that they think he is weak or smth, and totally ignores her outside of their home, so reader obviously feels insecure, but our lovely Joel makes her feel better at the end of the day.

thank you, love!! hope you enjoy this❤️

new territory—Joel Miller x f!reader

word count: 1k

You went into this situation with Joel without having any sort of expectations. In an outbreak, there aren’t many expectations to be had. So you simply settled for the comfort of another human being.

It grew by accident, really; tentatively, till you were both overwhelmed by the need to be close to each other, and eventually, it became some sort of mutual understanding that Joel was your protector. And, whenever you could, you protected him, too.

By not breaking his already fragile heart.

You took care of each other and looked after each other, and some nights you sought solace in each other’s arms, your bodies tangled in a fit of ecstasy. Sometimes it was something primal, rough and fast, other times it was impossibly languid and caring.

Upon your arrival in Jackson, the little town Joel’s younger brother Tommy put together, things were the same between the two of you.

Until they weren’t.

The moment Joel stepped outside the door, you became a stranger. You were surprised by the shift in behavior, to say the least. Whenever you tried to approach the subject in private, Joel either shut down or distracted you. You began to think maybe it was all in your head, or perhaps a matter which had nothing to do with you.

But when you were at the bar one evening, grabbing a drink with Tommy and his wife, Maria, you became certain that Joel was purposefully being cold towards you. Barely any eye contact, no touch of any sort, laser-focused on whatever Maria was saying to the group.

Your heart sank in your chest. While there weren’t any definitions to be given to whatever resided between you and Joel, you still liked to think that there was mutual respect and care involved, certain feelings—although not voiced yet.

“I think I’ll call it a night,” you announced, standing up.

Joel’s eyes shot to you, surprised by your reaction.

“Are you sure?” Maria checked with you. “It’s still quite early.”

“I’m sure. I’m a bit exhausted. Thank you for the drinks. See you tomorrow.”

“See ya tomorrow,” Tommy wished you.

You didn’t glance at Joel; you just wanted to get home, curl under the blanket and stay there. How foolish of you… perhaps he meant more to you than you did to him. Perhaps this was all in your head indeed, and you assigned more meaning to the situation. And now you were rushing to get to the so-called home, the one you shared with Joel and Ellie. It seemed the suffering was never-ending.

You heard your name called out in the background, but you dismissed it. You felt your eyes stung with tears, and you only hoped no one would remark your distress. You were at least thankful no one could see or hear the way your heart ached, practically wept, at the realization that you had gotten too emotionally attached to Joel when all he did was simply find relief.

“Stop, please,” Joel called to you.

“I just wanna go home, Joel.”

“Let me explain.”

You stopped in the middle of the road, turning around slowly. Joel was almost out of breath, his face red and riddled with regret at the same time. Worst of all, it hurt him to see you this disappointed and angry.

“Explain what? Why you’re ashamed of me? Or ashamed of being seen with me?”

“I’m not ashamed of—“

“You won’t even look at me, you won’t touch me unless we’re locked inside the house. You can see why I might think you’re ashamed to be with me.”

“I am not ashamed to be with you.”

“Then what is it?! Because I’m sitting there, watching Tommy stare at Maria like she’s the only thing in the world for him and I just… it hurts, Joel. It hurts to know that I care more than you do.”

“I care about you. A lot.”

He was standing far too close to you, reaching for your hands to take in his as your vision gets blurrier due to the tears.

“I never asked you anything, I didn’t ask you or even expect you to feel anything for me, but I just wish this wasn’t all in vain or some cheap thrill.”

“Listen to me. I’m—I’m sorry if you felt like I could ever be ashamed of you, or us. I’m not. I just…”

He took a deep breath, contemplating, gathering his thoughts.

“I only acted that way because I felt uncomfortable with all the people starin’ at ‘Tommy’s big brother and his girl. I don’t like ‘em staring. I thought if I kept some distance, they wouldn’t annoy you with questions or stares or jokes.”

You frowned. “Why would they joke or have questions?”

“Tommy has a good reputation ‘round here. Me, on the other hand… I’m sort of the black sheep. People got a lot to say. I didn’t want you in the middle of it.”

You caressed his hands into yours, oddly touched by the confession.

“I don’t think you’re the black sheep,” you told him. “I think you’re a great man who’s been through hell and back.”

“I did horrible things. Things you don’t know about. Killed people.”

“We all did terrible things to survive.”

You were grazing his cheek with the palm of your hand, and were surprised to see Joel close his eyes at the touch, leaning into it.

“But caring for someone doesn’t make you weak, if that’s what you’re worried about. I thought you learned that lesson with Ellie.”

Joel gulped, nodding solemnly. You suppressed a fond chuckle.

“I really am sorry,” he muttered.

“Next time you just talk to me. You know I’m here for you if you let me.”

“I do, I know.”

Then your lips stretched into a smile. “So… I’m your girl?”

Joel shook his head nervously, a grin on his face.

“I could make it up to my girl if she’d let me,” he teased.

“I think she’d like that.”

#requests #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fluff

[mamawasatesttube]

ONE MORE SNIPPET of ch3 to motivate myself to keep going... unedited and subject to change still but. wahoo!

“Rrrrr…”

Thunder rumbles in the distance as Kon opens his eyes. “Krypto? Whassamatter…?”

Krypto hasn’t gotten out of bed, but his head is up, his ears pricked forward towards the front of the house. He lets out another low, warning growl deep in his chest. “Mmrrrrrrmm…”

Blearily, Kon claws his way out of sleep a little more. It’s pitch-black in his room, the stars all blotted out by the thunderstorm, but the sheet lightning flashing across the sky lights up his room bright as day, even through the curtains. He listens, trying to figure out what’s got Krypto on guard, but not bothered enough to get up. For a moment, all he can hear is the pounding rain and the howling wind, but then…

Kon freezes.

There’s an extra heartbeat. Someone other than him, Krypto, and Ma is here. And—

Scritch-scritch. Thump, thump, scritch.

—And they’re climbing on the roof. Coming closer, by the sound of it.

“Rrrrrmmbfff.” Krypto does a tiny warning woof, not quite a bark. He’s still lying down, though, clearly not worried that the person outside is a threat. Come to think of it, that heartbeat is familiar, although admittedly Kon still struggles to keep different people’s heartbeats straight. They’re all really similar. He’s not quite sure how Kal does it.

Tap-tap-tap, at the window.

Krypto tilts his head. His tail thumps against the blankets once. Kon groans. Guess he’s getting out of bed for this.

He reluctantly peels the covers aside and floats out of his wonderful, cozy bed, clicks on his desk lamp with a touch of TTK, and plods across the floor. Tap-tap-tap-tap sounds at the window again, like an impatient bird.

“I’m coming, jeez,” Kon mutters. Krypto’s lazy ass still hasn’t gotten up. He wishes that were him. He reaches up, shoves the curtains aside, and—

Barely illuminated by the lamplight and the lightning outside, wearing a hoodie that’s soaked completely through, his hair plastered to his forehead, Tim perches on the edge of Kon’s windowsill and waves.

“Hi,” he calls through the glass. “Can I come in?”

What the shit?

Kon TTKs the window open with a rush of cold wind and rain. Even half-asleep, it’s just a matter of a thought to keep any water from hitting the floor as he grabs Tim by the shoulders and hauls him inside, then slams the window shut again. “Dude, what the hell?”

“Hi,” Tim says again, breathless. He looks like he could be in the next Ring movie, his hair plastered to his face and water streaming down his cheeks. “You haven’t been answering my texts.” He shivers, but squares his shoulders resolutely. “So I thought—well—I’m here to apologize. And if you’re still mad and you don’t wanna talk to me, that’s—that’s totally okay, and I’ll just get back in the car and drive back to Gotham, but I wrote out a proper apology and—”

“Okay, okay, okay, stop!” Kon shakes him a little, incredulous. “You’re dripping all over my floor, and it’s—it’s, what, one in the morning?”

“Two-fifteen-ish,” Tim corrects.

“Right. Two-fifteen-ish in the morning, you’re dripping all over my floor, and it’s freezing out and you’re gonna catch a head cold, I swear to god—”

Kon lets go of him with one hand to wheel around, squint at his dresser, and TTK a drawer open. Tim isn’t actually dripping all over the floor, because Kon’s got him wrapped in a layer of TTK, but there is a puddle slowly gathering around his feet.

“Come on, dumbass, you need a hot shower before you even think of reading off whatever script you prepared for yourself.” A couple of folded clothes roll out of the dresser drawer and scoot down the side of the legs, then toss themselves over into Kon’s free hand. “Here. You can borrow these.”

#rimi writes #krypto hearing tim pull up at 2am: what the fuck. what the FUCK is that #also yes tim did drive 20 hours down to kansas bc he was worried. <3 #tim #kon #timkon

[david-talks-sw]

So, why should I care about Lucas’s narrative? Like seriously why should I care? Not to sound dismissive but a genuine curiosity? Man sold it for one thing and the EU and the fans that made it showed Star Wars was may more then his narrative at some point.

If anything Star Wars moved beyond Lucas’s narrative even before he sold it. Even from a grande perspective his narrative stopped mattering in some sense the minute A New Hope arrived and became a hit.

Oh, you're free not to care about it.

But the fact remains:

When Lucasfilm creatives promote new content, they’ll use George as an authority figure to legitimize what they say.

Big chunks of the fandom do the same by using Lucas’ words to make authority arguments on why they believe the new films and the current direction of the franchise is good or bad.

Seeing as there seems to be a general consensus that Lucas’ word holds some power, I'd rather set the record straight on what he actually stated and intended.

You totally can just say “death of the author, what Lucas intended or what he said outside the movies doesn’t matter, what matters is what’s actually on screen” and I’d have nothing to counter that argument with because this is a subjective stance. We can debate its merits, but that’d result in a much larger discussion about the place of authorial intent in fiction.

But again, you can discard my posts and analyses by simply saying:

“I don’t care what Lucas stated, I’m a free-thinker and I can interpret any movie I watch however I want.” 

At which point, the only answer I can give you is “cool, good for you”. 

You wouldn’t be the only person I’ve met who takes this approach, either. I have friends who are older than me, saw the Original Trilogy films in theaters and felt Lucas’ dropped the ball as early as Episode VI: Return of the Jedi or the Special Editions, let alone the Prequel films. These friends don’t put Lucas on the same pedestal as everyone else seems to do, and flat out tell me:

“David, either the Jedi are the problem or the Prequels are bad, I don’t care what Lucas was going for, the result is crap and the only thing that makes it all have some degree of sense is that interpretation.”

And I mean… what do I say to that? What can you say to that? That’s a personal interpretation of a movie, it’s not an opinion that’s less valid than anyone else’s. 

But when I’m taking this approach, I’m not saying “your read of the movie is inferior to that of George Lucas” (unless you confer some degree of power to his word, as the creator of the franchise).

All I’m saying is “Lucas’ message was X”. 

You can agree with the message, you can disagree with the message, the message may be factually/morally/philosophically right or wrong, that’s all debatable. 

I’m just pointing out that, when you look at all the data and you go by what George Lucas stated, it’s X, not Y, like most of the fandom and even authors of the franchise seems to keep stating.

Finally, on a personal note:

I don't like the fact that every time I see my childhood heroes on screen, nowadays, they're portrayed as protocol-worshipping stoic assholes.

I don't like that 90% of the fandom thinks that's how they're meant to be seen when the data demonstrates it's not.

I don't like that the reason my childhood heroes keep being portrayed in this uncharitable light is because the fans from the generation prior to mine - whom these characters weren't meant for - wanted to ensure that their childhood hero, Luke Skywalker, would be preserved as "the ultimate Jedi" and concluded that the only way to do so would be to reframe the Prequel Jedi as dogmatic and emotionless.

So now the OT fans have Luke, the Sequel fans have Rey, the TCW fans have Ahsoka... all unsullied protagonists.

Whereas pro-Jedi PT fans need to mentally ready themselves for when Lucasfilm decides to release the nth "Windu was more strict than a droid" case.

#QnA #jedi order #george lucas

[axieta]

Hungry eyes

Henry Winter x reader |

Warnings: in this part there are non but later parts are going to hit diff so mdi

Summary: Richard is the newest member of the bizarre, isolated classics course. There is seven of them in total, every personage strange and intriguing in their own way. But there is this one girl who’s sheer presence unnerves and simultaneously compels his whole being. What secrets do those sharp eyes of her hide? And what is her relation to the ever stoic Henry Winter?

Chapter 1

| In the eye of a predator |

I think I noticed it first during my second week in the Greek class. We were sitting, all seven of us, in the school library; all but Henry whining and breaking our heads over a particularly dreadful translation of Arrian. Something about Alexander, I’m sure of it.

It was then she looked at me for the first time. And it wasn’t just a throw-away glance, or a squint-eyed half-smile. No, it was the truest, fullest and most precise stare of all the stares I have ever witnessed in my life.

She tasked me with her gaze, her eyes slightly hooded, with long, thick eyelashes. From head to toe and then from toe to head. Said eyelashes fluttered, when she came to scan my face and then her eyes met mine. And I saw it, hidden deep inside of those abyssal irises, the electrifying glint that sent shivers down my spine. The moment our gazes crossed, I knew I was done for. I was vanquished in the matter of seconds, quickly submitted into the reign of that cool look, enslaved by its ferociousness, the sheer intensity of it; and I didn’t even know that I was competing. Something in that stare compelled me to give in.

It was a spark of folly, pure and hot like a furnace in the middle of December and for a second I thought it to be burning deep into my cheek.

I remember Hampden in a magnificent blur. A splash of red, gold, white and green. To me it is a mystic collage of places, objects without a name or an owner. It is an onslaught of faces, Greek letters and Latin phrases blending intangible into each other.

But there is something in particular that constantly managers to break through the heavy mist of stimuli and fogged-up memories. It burns and freezes me up every time it reappears deep in my mind and I can’t seem to get rid of it.

The shining, primal and dangerous pair of eyes. Looking from underneath furrowed brows, right through my physical shell. Etching the uneasy, thrilled feeling of the consciousness right into my bones. They haunt me up to this day. And they shine beautifully amidst the conflagration their stare fires up inside of me.

It was far too hot, for a lad as uptight and uneasy as I constantly was at that time. I remember starting to sweat profusely the minute that stare anchored into my figure. With time I learned to ignore the uncomfortable feeling, to push it down and bottle it up like the rest of things in my life.

But that first time, the initial first-degree contact with that stare had sent me into a hellish spiral of sweat and as I thought a feverish seizure.

Looking back, I was probably exaggerating, it was however extremely unnerving to feel those vibrant, lively irises bearing right into my flesh as if they could dig up my deepest, most shameful secrets.

She was, the proprietary of the eyes I mean, one of the latest additions to the class, however junior to me in age, she’s been a semester ahead of me in context of education in Hampden’s Greek and Latin course. Outside of the school walls, she was eons ahead of me.

I think there wasn’t a subject she wasn’t interested in. Like an encyclopedia, you could start any topic, most random or niche, and she would already have had formed an opinion on it and delight you with a lengthy explanation to her stance. She wasn’t like Henry, who had clearly dedicated himself solely to the classical arts, and passionately ignored anything other than that, or Bunny who in turn ignored everything that wasn’t forced into him or served to him on a silver platter.

No, she was a titan of knowledge. Hungry for more and eager to bathe you in some of the goods she had already acquired.

But she wasn’t loud in that strive for knowledge of hers. She would rather engage in one-on-one conversations, get to know her interlocutor, synchronize with him and conduct a debate that would also engage, and with luck, completely devour him as well.

Although her favorite subject were the many a conquests of Alexander the Great. Yes, it was an endless topic for her.

Once even I saw her shed a tear while comparing Alexander and Hephaestion to Achilles and Patroclus, wailing over the poetic tragedy of the Macedonians’ situation in light of Alexander’s love for the Iliad.

‘He even had his oven copy of the damn book. He slept with it under his pillow!’

I remember her voice breaking every time someone prompted her to start this particular topic. And I remember Bunny rolling his eyes every time she undertook it.

Maybe that’s why I recall that particular evening so clearly. We were translating The campaigns of Alexander after all; but instead of her usual glossy eyes and melancholic stare I was faced with that.

The malignant gaze of a demon.

Well, now I might be exaggerating a little. But it is true. There was something hot and unnerving about her. Maybe it was the stare. Or maybe it was something much more clandestine, like the sharp angles of her face, the way her eyebrows set or her mouth shaped her syllables. Maybe it was the distinct play of light and shadows on her face, or was it the bird-like tilt of her head. Or the fluid, swift movements of her body. As if she was pure water, nothing more nothing less, flowing gracefully from one place to the other. Never faltering, never tripping over or halting.

Or maybe the fact that sometimes, when she looked up at you, with that bird tilt to her head and a deep cut smile to her face, one that would reveal a dimple on the left side of her face, and a slight tightness at the corners of her eyes, she looked almost sweet. Alluring in a mischievous way, the way all things primal can be. Polarizing and pulling you in like a magnet. Like a fox, looking you straight in the eye as he bites through the arteries of a wild goose he just caught. It is a tragic, gruesome scene, but something in the cruelty of the deed makes you unable to look away. And maybe it is the blood dripping down the fiery red fur, or the last high pitched quacks of the goose, but there is something forbidden and for it enticing in the scene.

I could never realy put a finger on it. What was the true source of that mystic, almost electric aura she seemed to be oozing out of ever pore of her body.

My bet would be on the totality of those little quirks I’ve already mentioned.

There was something profoundly primeval about her. She would mask it of course, but I’ve seen it on several occasions. The animal ripping from within her. Hiding in her wolfish grin, lurking in the glint of her eyes.

It made my hair stand on my head.

She was a perfect predator. Disguised into a frail, sweet girl. With big, seductive eyes, soft lips, and the sweetest nose. Her voice deep, melodic like streams of old Greece and her laugh all rumbling summer thunder. She seemed just so… so good, so poetic, so beautiful.

It was that crude cunning that made my stomach churn. Burrowed deep under her skin just waiting to jump out of her.

If I had to pick someone, out of us seven, who most resembled a Greek god or goddess I would choose her. And not because of her skills in greek or Latin. No, Henry surpassed her as well as the rest of us in that department. It also wasn’t for her beauty. In my eyes, no one could compare to Camilla.

No, that would be for the feral fierceness that constantly boiled over in her. Her restlessness, the passion that oh so often consumed her and the emotions upholstered with velvet of indulgence I would later see her throw herself into with abandon. She looked like she belonged right in the middle of Dionysus’ cortège. At times she was senile and pleasant to the mortals that wished to mingle with the lesser gods such as the classical course class. But she also looked like the type of girl to identify herself not with the quick-feeted nymphs or graceful dreads that formed the procession, but rather the wild and menacing maenads. She made me feel as if only she’d drunk too much of vine she would gladly and eagerly rip my head off clean of my shoulders, and she would later laugh about it, as my corpus-less head would be forced to sing to her à la poor Orpheus.

And I knew I saw the shine of her teeth not because I was a good observer, or because she had grown careless and didn’t bother masking around me. No, I saw it because she wanted me to see it. Because she wanted to mess with me, mischievousness running deep in her veins, chaos being the only thing for witch she could feel real passion. Because she was sure, no one was going to believe me. The truest of predators, as I said.

And it was true. Back then, even if I told myself from a week before, he wouldn’t believe me. After all, she looked fine. She wasn’t a great beauty like Camilla, but she was rather easy on the eye. Maybe it is because of that true, cruel nature of hers that she was so kind to reveal before me, that her imagine remains rather distorted in my head; but I can tell you one thing- what she lacked in beauty, she made up in charm and charisma. Even without the glint in her eyes an indescribable aura of mystery veiled her existence. And when she started talking, and I mean talking with you and not to you, her deep, melodic voice could put you in some kind of a trans, like the ones conducted in Delphi. I think she gave people courage to speak with that voice; somehow untangled their tongues and compelled them to converse far more easily than if they would without her.

She had this weird soothing quality about her, if only she wanted to seem soothing that is.

Once I saw her enraptured in some sort of a quarry with Simon Sharon, a scrawny boy with a stutter, who at the time of the exchange did not stutter at all. On the contrary, he seemed to be standing his rhetoric ground against the onslaught of her own arguments quite gracefully.

She was like a magnet for guys. And while Camilla seemed to be almost boy-repellant, the opposite gender swarmed to her peer like flies to honey. Not only that, girls would also cling to her as if she was their guru or something.

I always thought it was weird. After all, she did nothing so special. Nothing that would attract this much attention, and as I’ve seen later in the year, she would go as far as to actively rid herself of the following.

And yet, up to the very end she remained our school’s sweetheart.

She dressed rather modestly. Mostly in long dresses, sometimes skirts and cardigans, although ocasionally we would also see her sporting a pair of pants. During those days Bunny seemed to be most cold towards her.

Either way, most of her clothes were kind of airy, ghostly even. Sometimes when she would walk through the corridors and a gust of wind gathered the ruffles of her dress she resembled more an apparition rather than a human being.

She was rather palie, and so the whole atmosphere of Hampden as well at the fraily clothing played into the elusive nature of her beauty and further thickened the cocoon of mystery around her.

Her eyes were intelligent, big and bright when she needed them to be, and narrow and nigh all-sing when she didn’t. Her face went in and out of those two states so easily, as if she didn’t even think of it. The transitions between her moods were so natural that sometimes, after some time even I couldn’t really point out when or even if the change occurred.

It was like having a shapeshifter living right next door to you, and noone conscious of that but you.

Henry, Francis, Bunny, Camilla and Charles, they all were too blind or too focused on themselves to discern this duality, although I think out of all of them, Henry came the closest to the truth.

Out of all of us, he was the one that she tolerated the most. Sometimes I would see the both of them sitting together in the library. Most of the times they would be silent. He would be translating something, and she would be scribbling away or reading. But a few times I was able to witness a heated debate between the two of them, upheld both in perfect Greek and later on in Latin as well.

I thought Henry kind of liked her, in his own way. I thought he tolerated her, and vice versa simply because of the obvious equality between them.

Only later I found out how stupid and oblivious to the true nature of this relation I was. And that the signs were all around me. And that I was just too dense to not pick up on them.

#the secret history #henry winter #camilla macaulay #charles macaulay #francis abernathy #bunny corcoran #richard papen #Henry winter x reader #dark acadamia quotes #hampden #smut #Henry winter x y/n #Donna Tartt the secret history #fanfic

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 351: That was Then, This is Now, p3 (Gianna Interlude)

Jesus Christ look at this place. I can’t believe what a fucking mess it is. When was the last time I cleaned? The thing is I just don’t care anymore. My life was once neat and orderly but it all started slowly falling apart the moment I got put on this project. I really can’t fucking believe it. What’s happening to me?!? I used to be a smart, driven chick, headed for great things. Now…it’s like I can barely think straight! All I can think about is him. It’s like my brains are now all in my tits…which, to be honest, should make me a fucking genius.

I’ve been with Evolution for a few years now. I was hired onto the Quality Control team, and now I’m a Project Manager. The gig looked good, originally, they sounded serious. Well, they are serious. They’re fucking really serious. They seriously have made my life suck.

Okay, so it seemed great: I got to try out this new Product they wanted to push out. They made me the clinical coordinator, but I also got to be a study subject myself. It sounded so fucking awesome. This shit was going to make me a fucking queen, after all this went down. They were using it, in these trials, for like politicians, and CEOs, women of influence, girls who were in important positions. To make approval easier they presented it to the FDA as an OTC (over the counter, of course), non-Rx (nonprescription, duh) supplement which is like a joke, because it’s a fucking bioweapon. They had the right people in the right places and they somehow got it through, approved for OTC. But in the end it’s not going to be available for just anybody. It was going to make women they choose - like me, if it worked - better. Better at what they do. Better at meeting their challenges. Better at what they need to be to help us fucking win.

I don’t totally understand all the science, but I understand some of it (and all the witchy stuff I only half-believe). I do know that it’s next-level shit and totally sketchy from a safety-profile standpoint. It was all to help ‘the movement' though, and blah blah blah, of course I’m all for that, who isn’t? So, yeah, I’d take the trial. It sounded great. And it’d make me better at my job; that’s why they wanted me on it in the first place.

It was just some shots, and I knew that if this panned out I’d be, like, ascending. Like I’d heard others have, like the chicks I’d seen in the clinics. When all this is said and done I’d get my own team with the company, fuckloads of salary, and a promotion up and out of this bogus job.

They just need to wait with me, they said. They need me to run this clinical trial, but not affect it. So I can’t show up in person. I can’t have my influence change what’s going on in there. In fact, they wanted to keep me isolated and out of the offices so I didn’t affect anyone there, or out in public. Like, I can’t even see my own family. They’re still all back East so it doesn’t really matter. I don’t really want to see them anyway.

So I’ve basically been in quarantine, alone, for like, months now. Sure it sounded great at first - I get to work from home, and I get to set my own schedule. I get everything delivered, you know, food and whatever. I don’t have to deal with any of the fuckwads out there in the world. But I’m so fucking bored. Months of this. Months, while life goes on in the outside world. The elections and all that? I just ended up celebrating here by my own fucking self.

I mean, yeah, I’m working for a good cause. But jesus, look the fuck at me now! I was always a busty girl, but I’ve gone from a double-E to an - I dunno, double-G - to whatever the hell I am now. Fucking huge is what it is.

Why? Because the dude, this doctor likes…no, loves…no, worships tits. Because women with big tits get him to do what they want, I guess. Sound familiar? That’s fucking men in general, but I need this specific one to do what I tell him to. My only interaction with the guy is, like, here and there on video conference calls, and all he sees of me is like from the waist up. So, my ass is still my plain old ass, but now my tits are like a porn star’s. And they keep getting bigger! And that’s not the worst of it! Now he’s all I freakin’ think about! I feel like a goddamn braindead lovesick bimbo mommygirlfriend sometimes and-

Gah!

I mean, I know I’m no different than other girls. Women everywhere want this sort of thing now. A shorter boyfriend, a weaker guy, a dependent husband, all vulni- or whatnot. The shorter, weaker and more dependent the better. We all want them to need us for money and safety, for warmth and nutrition. For everything. It’s just fucking sexy. We’d love to be able - if we could - to pick them up like children, like infants, hold them in our hands or haha nnnngh stick them down our dresses and hide them in our tits. Honestly we all want our men to be like little embryos. If we could shove them up into our wombs, we fucking would. It’s, like, nobody’s really talking about it out in the open, but it’s normal now, to feel this way. We’re all looking for short, weak, totally and utterly dependent men.

But, fuck, this product has got me. I don’t want it to be just anyone. I want it to be HIM. I think it’s because I don’t see any other guys It’s imprinted him on me. And since my pheromones can’t get to him he doesn’t feel the same He’s like enamored/suckled onto this Melissa person and it fucking burns my hooch to think about. Jealousy is not a good color on me, well on anyone I realize, but I can’t fucking help it I want him to nnnnnnngh fucking shrink for me so I can shove him into my tits, up my cunt, into my bra. I want to make him just stick to me and I’ll fucknig absorbbbb him ahhhhhggg 

fuck.

Get your shit together, Gianna. You’ve got a job to do. Back to work…

…but just imagine.

===============================================

Want to know how the ‘Product' got past the FDA? Read 'Seeking Approval', available on my Patreon.

And thank you thank you RiF for the pro-bono editorial work on this one. 

#growing into the job

[oceanbug]

when worlds collide

smau non!idol ningning x reader

17.5 ning yi zhuo.

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Spring Hill High, Freshman Year, 7 years ago.

A 14K diamond necklace around her neck and a 24K pleated gold brooch on her uniform blazer. Silky brown hair all the way to her lower back always straightened, never a hair out of place. All eyes stared at her as she walked down the school’s corridor. She had a small, polite smile and sat near the front of the auditorium. Whispers could be heard all around her.

‘Is that Ning Yi Zhuo? Isn’t her family, like, super rich?’

‘Yeah! I heard her family signal-handily fund and build half of the school’

‘No wonder she’s so pretty; she can afford it’

Ningning was a known name around town; she was popular everywhere she went. She was popular, but not liked.

Ningning learned the hard way that to keep her life happy, she needed to keep a small circle. At the moment, this circle had a total of 0 members. That was pretty small!

It’s not that she didn’t enjoy the company—quite the contrary—but it was hard to see who wanted her for her friendship and who wanted her for money.

To keep things at bay, she’d wave and have small talk with anyone who asked, but when it came to hanging out outside of school, she’d always refused. Going to the mall or to dinner always brought up the subject of money. Since Ningning had an abundance of money, her friends always felt entitled to it just because they were friends with her. It would start arguments when she refused to pay for everything, thus ending her friendships. Friendships that were her everything fell apart so easily. Had anyone actually wanted to be friends with her? Or did they just want her money? It was a story that repeated itself over and over, but that was going to stop in high school; she’d keep her distance from everyone. It was her goal.

That is until a certain raven-haired boy came creeping into her life.

"Yeonjun, Park Yeonjun. And who do I have the honor of speaking too?"

Unlucky for Ningning, she had become chemistry lab partners with the most social boy in all of Spring Hill High.

"I’m surprised you don’t know. It’s Ning Yi Zhuo, but just call me Ningning."

"Ning Yi Zhuo, huh? It does sound familiar. Well, what does it matter? You’re stuck with me all year, Ningning; get used to seeing this pretty face all day." Ningning rolled her eyes and gave him a small smile.

"Aw, come on, princess, I can spot a fake smile from miles away. You don’t have to pretend to like me. It’s fine if you don’t; I’ll convince you otherwise eventually." Ningning’s smile didn’t drop, but she did feel herself giggle. It had been a while since she had genuinely laughed at someone’s joke. She had to stop herself, though. Ningning couldn’t get close to someone else. But it’s just one class a day with him. There was no way she’d become friends with Yeonjun.

And Ningning was right. She didn’t become friends with Yeonjun. They became so much more than that.

__________________________

Meeting Yeonjun brought Ningning into a whole new world. One filled with adventure and curiosity. One where she didn’t have to force herself to be introverted for the sake of her happiness, she could be extroverted and happy without fear.

Day after day, he would come into class and tell her wild stories, half of which Ningning had been certain were fake, but that he only told her so he could see her smile. And laugh. Yeonjun always made her laugh.

One day, while walking out of the cafeteria on her way to eat her lunch outside, Ningning was stopped by two girls. One had long, flowing brown hair with a mole under her eye.

"Heard you’re getting chummy with our Yeonjun?" Both girls stared at Ningning, waiting for a response. She awkwardly shifted her eyes in confusion, but before she got the chance to explain herself, the other girl next to her with bangs began to laugh.

"Wonyoung, come on! You’re scaring her! Listen, she’s kidding. We don’t care what’s going on with you and Yeonjun; just know he won’t shut up about you."

"Ugh, it’s so annoying; you’re all he talks about, Ning. Just go out with him so we can have lunch in peace! Right, Aeri?" The girl with bangs, Aeri, nodded her head and giggled.

Ningning blushed at the thought.

"Aw, are you shy? Tell you this: Let’s go out together as a group. You could get a feel for him and see if you like him before making a move. I’m sure you’ll have fun!" Ningning didn’t want to go out with these strangers, but she did want to go out with Yeonjun. So she agreed, and it was the best decision she had ever made.

The group of four first went roller skating. It was Ninging’s first time ever rollerskating, and she learned the hard way that it wasn’t easy to grasp on the first try. With each fall came further frustration from Ningning. All she could do was watch as her friends laughed and had fun. While she lay on the floor alone, After falling down for the fifth time, she saw a hand extended out to her.

"Here, grab on to me. It’ll be easier this way; if we both fall, we fall together! Totes less embarrassing." Ningning held onto Giselle tightly, and the two of them skated together. Aeri never left Ninging’s side the whole afternoon, and if she fell, then Aeri fell right with her. It was comforting. Is this what genuine friendship is like?

After hours of skating, everyone was beat and decided to have lunch. Banter and jokes flew around the table; Wonyoung even told some embarrassing stories about Yeonjun. It was a blast! Once the check finally came, Ningning felt shivers down her spine. This is when the argument always happened. Were these new-found friends going to dump the check on her? Were they going to use her like everyone else did?

"I got it covered; it’s on me, babes!" Aeri called out.

"Oh, I can pay for my..."

"Nah, don’t worry about it; I have money for days." It was true that the Uchinaga family was rich.

"Just let the sugar mommy pay for our lunch; it’s the least she can do for forcing you here today!" Yeonjun shined a bright smile at Ningning and winked at Giselle.

"Aw, you think of me as a mother?"

Ningning laughed. Maybe this friendship wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe she’d finally found people who liked her, for her.

_________________________________

Spring Hill High, Junior Year

Ningning started her day like no other. She got dressed and ready for school. She had her personal chef make her breakfast, and she got in her personal driver's car. It was not a typical day for anyone else, but for Ningning, this was normal.

It wasn’t until she heard frantic whispering all around the halls at school that she knew something had happened. Before she got the chance to look for her friends, she was dragged by her arm into the janitor’s closet. After adjusting to the dim lighting of the room, Ningning realized it was her friend Wonyoung who dragged her in.

"Listen, I’m going to tell you something. You gotta promise me you won’t freak out."

"Wony, you’re scaring me; what’s up?"

"Ok, um, so yesterday I was in student council helping plan for Spirit week, and someone needed to bring the printed setlist to the principal's office. I volunteered, of course, since I hate being on student council. The president’s always so creepy and so boring. You know he went on a 10-minute tangent about-"

"Wonyoung, focus."

"Right, sorry. I got everything together and made my way to the principal's office, but on my way there, I heard someone making out at the bottom of the fourth-floor staircase. Anytime I hear love in the air, I just have to investigate! So, I made my way up and hid to see if I could get a good look at the lovebirds, and...

"And…"

"Ningning, it was Giselle and Yeonjun."

Ningning’s world had fallen apart. Her eyes quickly welled up with tears, while her brain still hadn’t fully comprehended the conversation. Her best friend and her boyfriend were fucking?

Her happiness, which she had tried so hard to keep, had been shattered. There are no good people in this world. At least not to Ningning. Not anymore. 

_________________________________

"You fucked Giselle?" Ningning’s voice roared throughout the hallway. Her targets were right in sight.

"Ning, what are you talking about?"

"Oh, don’t act all innocent. I thought we were friends. I trusted you. Am I just someone you can toy with until you don’t want me anymore? Or were you just using me to get close to Yeonjun? Be honest."

“Ningning, I don’t know-“

"Wonyoung’s telling the truth, Babe. I’m so sorry. Just give it up, Giselle; it’s true. We messed around behind Ning’s back." Yeonjun looked sorrowful as he admitted to his "infidelity".

Giselle’s face had been twisted and turned in confusion. But Ningning didn’t give her the chance to speak. Why had Yeonjun confessed to something that didn’t take place? Why wasn’t Ningning listening to her?

"We’re so done. I’ll make sure you pay for this. You’ll regret ever crossing Ning Yi Zhuo."

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masterlist ~ next

(Synopsis) Y/N had never been the type to take life for granted. You grew up with the mindset that if you wanted something, you had to work for it; So getting paired up with the university’s “Rich Bitch” Ning Yi Zhuo for your midterm was the last thing you wanted. Are you willing to step into the world of fame for an A+?

taglist (open): @azraism ; @kimsgayness ; @sewiouslyz ; @winieter ; @llluvbluy ; @i06kkura ; @everydayiloveyves ; @edamboon ; @rdfgfv

#kpop x y/n #kpop x reader #kpop smau #kpopsmau #aespa x reader #ningning x reader #non idol au #ning yizhuo #ningning #aespa

[the-ferocious-kittyrose]

What are your thought on Helluva Boss, if you have any?

I have many, as a matter of fact.

It’s sad to say that I don’t think I like the show much anymore. It has good moments, but the show overall just feels like a messy fanfic.

It tries to force emotional moments with little to no build up.

Think S1E3 where Loona yells at Blitzo that he’s not her dad and she doesn’t need him, that had zero build up and feels totally out of place. Blitzo wasn’t even acting much like a dad in that moment, he was acting like a boss trying to get his employee to focus on the job.

You need to show us more of Blitzo and Loona’s relationship, and actually get us invested, then moments like this will actually feel impactful.

The comedy isn’t great

I’m not a comedy expert by an ny means, but the jokes in this show are timed very weirdly. They’re very quick and you hardly have time to even process what’s going on before it cuts away. It isn’t helped by the fact that there’s so much going on on screen most of the time that I have to pause or go back to understand what’s happening.

Also the subject matter of the jokes. “Baby dick!” “hole!” “bitch!” ohh Moxxie’s getting sexually assaulted! isn’t that funny? Look there are dicks everywhere! Isn’t incest funny?!

The Stolas story is wasted potential

The Stolas from the Ars Goetia was a fallen angel who fought alongside Lucifer in the war against heaven. He used the stars to guide Lucifer’s army and help them evade God’s forces. For this crime he was damned to Hell for eternity, a place where nothing good can thrive.

In the show he’s a demon prince born already in Hell, and he’s part of the Goetia family, a royal family of powerful demons that marry each other (???) to produce heirs.

Not only would keeping Stolas’ original origin story make his character more interesting, it also would add depth to all the other Goetia characters. They fought for a cause they believed in, and they lost, now they’re all trapped in Hell forever. Why is Stella so angry all the time? Because she was on the losing side of a war, and now she’s literally in Hell.

Speaking of Stella, the Ars Goetia being fallen angels would mean that they wouldn’t have blood family like parents or siblings, so Paimon wouldn’t be Stolas’ father and Andrealphus wouldn’t be Stella’s brother. But, if they don’t have blood family, what about Via? Well, angels can definitely have children if they choose to. But why were Stolas and Stella arranged to be married? Because Lucifer wanted his fallen angels to conceive powerful children and expand the population/legions of Hell.

Heaven and Hell are at constant war. It’s more subtle right now, with both sides trying to manipulate/guide humanity indirectly from the background, but eventually it will culminate in a second battle in Heaven, where Lucifer will battle the arch angel Michael to the death. Lucifer wants to have as many demons on his side as possible, so he’ll have a better chance at winning. So he and his demons corrupt humans so they’ll end up in Hell, they create demons from Hell itself, like Imps and Succubi, and pair up the demons of the Ars Goetia to create powerful demon children.

Millie’s character could be a lot better

I’m convinced that no one involved in this show has ever spoken to an actual southern person. All of Millie’s southernisms are so forced and her accent isn’t great.

Everyone and their mother has talked about how Millie doesn’t have much of a character outside of being Moxxie’s girl boss wife, but what character arc could she have had?

In the pilot, Millie is all smiles, hypes up Blitzo’s bad ideas, and brushes off Blitzo stalking her and Moxxie. She gives off a people pleaser vibe. Even if something bothers her she just pushes it down and puts on a smiley face so no one thinks she’s bothered. Southern women are taught from a very young age that making a scene is the worst thing you can possibly do. Don’t disrupt anything, be respectful, and save face. Millie would’ve grown up with this mentality.

When Millie and Moxxie got together, her parents did not approve. Not only was Moxxie not the rough and tough cowboy they always imagined their daughter ending up with, but he was also the son of an extremely dangerous crime boss that terrorized the ring of wrath for years, and they did not want their baby getting involved in that. They continued to see each other in secret, until Moxxie cut all ties with his father and asked Millie to run away with him. She agreed, even though it broke her heart to leave her family. She packed a bag, stuck a note on the screen door, and ran off to Imp city with Moxxie.

When Millie comes back to wrath for the harvest moon festival, she’s very nervous about how everyone will react to seeing her. Family is all these Imps have, so just up and abandoning your family is a big deal. When her parents see her again, they are happy, but do throw some passive aggressive remarks at her, and they are straight up cold to Moxxie. They talk about the pain games and how Millie probably shouldn’t do it this year. They say it may be too tough for her, considering she’s a city girl now. She takes shit from her family the whole episode until the end when her parents are scolding her and talking shit about Moxxie for loosing the fight with Striker. She finally stands up to them and says that, yeah, maybe she’s changed, but she’s happy and in love. That should be enough for them, and if it isn’t, she doesn’t want to stay any longer. She leaves with a new air of confidence.

#these are just a few of my opinions #helluva boss #helluva boss critical #stolas #helluva stella #helluva millie #helluva moxxie #hazbin lucifer

[lesbianlotties]

ronance prompt: "friends kiss each other all the time, right?"

oh look it's like i had a vision of season 5!

The first kiss was a mistake, and Robin’s fault, not that she regretted it. One warm afternoon, after Nancy gave her a ride home, Robin leaned across the car toward her and she swears she aimed for Nancy’s cheek, but Nancy turned her head at the worst - best - possible moment, and just like that, Robin and Nancy kissed for the first time. As much as Robin tried to deny it during her worst moments of self-doubt, the fact that the accidental kiss had lasted a second too long without either of them pulling back remained. After the event, Robin had apologized profusely in a most likely unintelligible rant and stumbled out of the car, literally stumbled, as in, she totally ended up on the pavement. But she eventually made it inside her house, where she was free to overthink till she felt on the brink of death and then Nancy called her that night to talk as they usually did, no mention of the kiss.

The second time was inevitable. There were many good things about being friends with someone equally as smart but in a totally different direction. They challenged each other, encouraged one another to think outside the box, to turn the box upside down with questions, or to absolutely destroy the box in question until it could be assembled back again in a way that solved the mystery at hand. This, however, didn’t come without a price. As it had been obvious since their first time working together at the library, their methods often clashed. Instead of learning how to avoid these arguments as time went by, the arguing only escalated more easily, since they were comfortable with each other, knowledgeable about exactly which buttons to push without pushing too hard, and able to forgive and forget each other in the blink of an eye. Except for the time when they were arguing about something Robin can’t bring herself to remember anymore, and in the heat of the moment they ended up standing so close together that the only viable resolution to the argument had been for Robin to lean down and Nancy to lean up and kiss each other. Brief. Still could be called accidental. Still mind-blowing.

The third kiss? Well, Robin couldn’t stop rambling about one subject or another, and apparently, Nancy couldn’t figure out any other way to get her to shut up. The fourth kiss? After some grueling weeks of Nancy teaching Robin how to drive, when Robin finally got her license she simply could not not kiss Nancy as a thank you, right? Things changed after the fifth kiss though. The two girls were hanging out in Nancy’s bedroom, talking about nothing and everything, teasing each other about their past relationships, carefully not outright mentioning the fact that they were both single, and Robin simply had to know if she was a better kisser than Steve. No big deal, just a matter of pride. The problem, Nancy pointed out, was that she’d kissed Steve much more than a few pecks on the lips. Alas, Robin and Nancy entered the making out with each other territory. Probably helped by the fact that Nancy confirmed that yes, Robin was the better kisser.

After a few weeks of making out with Nancy as often as humanly possible, Robin finally mustered up the courage to ask Steve, “Hey, friends kiss each other all the time, right?”

Steve snorted when he heard her question. “Have we ever kissed?” he asked right back at her.

“Oh shit,” Robin gasped, and started picking up her things, making mostly a mess. “I gotta go. I have to talk to Nancy.”

“Wait,” Steve frowned, following Robin’s hasty movement with his eyes, “Does that mean- Wait. Nancy?! Robin are you-”

“Yeah, I think we’re dating now? I might love her? I don’t know but I’m going to find out right the fuck now. Okay, bye Steve!”

#thanks for sending a prompt! i hope you liked it! #stranger things #ronance #robin x nancy #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #st #stranger things fanfiction #ronance fanfiction #nancy x robin #st4 #stranger things 4 #robin #nancy #prompts #answered #anon #ronance prompts #my fic

[mephinomaly]

[TL] BIOHAZARD/Chapter 5

[ This post uses Ois~su ♪ ]

Time: That night

Location: In living quarters of the AIIE experiment grounds

Rei: Uwaa, we’re having a sleepover with all of UNDEAD~♪

Fufu. The SS preliminaries was the perfect opportunity for one, but Kaoru-kun was thrown into a desert and separated from us.

I’m happy that the four of us can have a sleepover together peacefully– gah!?

Koga: ...

Rei: Koga? Don’t throw an omanjuu at me? Is this your way of telling me you want to play?

Koga: Stop bein’ so happy-go-lucky, vampire bastard. The hell you mean, pajama party.

Rei: Oya, how nostalgic. Could this be that you want me to call you ‘wanko’ for the first time in a while?

Koga: I ain’t callin’ you that for nostalgia purposes, I’m insultin' you.

Rei: How troubling. Please don’t take your frustrations out on me.

We’ve all given our consent to take part in this experiment.

We can’t complain now, can we?

Koga: We was basically forced to? If it hadn’t been us, it woulda been like, Ra*bits who haven’t done nothin’ wrong.

Then we’d hafta live with the knowledge that them lot are now the victims whilst we watch from the sidelines.

It’s better for our own mental health to just do it for real, right?

‘Cos I don’t like this at all. Don’t forget that.

Kaoru: Ahaha. It’s definitely a little off putting and shady sounding, but it makes for an interesting story, right?

AI idols and stuff– no, technology and science in general has come a long way. Really, it’s like an old sci-fi movie.

If this was just a movie, or even just someone else’s problem, I think it could have been a lot of fun.

Adonis: I also don’t feel great about this but I am interested in terms of the development of science and technology.

This is the future we thought of when we learnt about Voc*loid and drawing AIs, and it’s becoming a reality right in front of our eyes.

We’re now living in a near sci-fi world that people from the past could only imagine.

It’s like a dream, whether that’s a good or a bad thing.

I’m excited.

Kaoru: Ahaha. That totally has the vibe of a boyish heroic novel.

I don’t particularly like that sort of thing either. At the end of the day, I’m still the son of an academic who reached for the sea in search of romance and mystery.

Adonis: I also dislike jumping into areas I don’t know about.

Rei: If we think realistically, if we had refused to take part, there was the likelihood of RhythmLink turning their backs on us.

I suspect they would be rather unpleasant in the matter.

This is a necessary step so we are not thrown to the side. The compensation is rather impressive, and, in simple terms, profitable for us.

Well, we made quite the sum of money during the SS, so we have some to spare.

If an experiment such as ‘AI idols’ is successful, implemented, and announced to the world, won’t they look to us as we were the test subjects? Doesn’t that make this all worth it?

Koga: But this doesn’t solve the problem we’re havin’. They’re just killin’ time, it literally has nothin’ t’do with our situation.

This better not turn into a goose chase, wastin’ time runnin’ ‘round lookin’ stupid.

Rei: Umu. We should all brainstorm some ideas in order to solve the root of the problem, as Koga said. Fortunately, we have been blessed with plenty of time to do so.

Kaoru: Mmm… I was kinda on guard when they said experiment, but if they’re just asking us to stay the night here?

Rei: Umu. We will be given medicine, which will cause us to sleep for about half a day. In that time, via the devices connected to our heads, data will be collected and compiled.

During the time we are not asleep, we will exercise to prevent our bodies from weakening, and eat to keep up our energy levels. Let’s all get on, the four of us.

The testing period will last approximately one week. During this time, any other forms of work are banned, as the extra stimulus may skew the results.

Our phones will be confiscated, and we will be separated from the outside world.

Kaoru: Kinda feels like being a prisoner or a hospital patient… Welp, this’ll be easy money if all we’ve got to do is laze around.

Rei: Umu. I suppose we can take it easy. We will be paid regardless as to whether the experiment produces useful results or not, so it’s not a complete waste of time.

Fortunately, this location is better than a hospital or a prison.

Look, there are some cards and board games we can use to kill time. Let’s play until it’s time for us to sleep.

Koga: Ain’t you bein’ too relaxed ‘bout this whole thing?

Rei: That’s a good thing, is it not? I’ve been acting unusually mature since my youth, so I do not have many experiences like this. Such as having a sleepover with friends of the same age—

That’s why. I can’t be sure of the future, but I know I am very happy right now ♪

[ ☆ ]

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

#ensemble stars #enstars #translation #rei sakuma #koga oogami #adonis otogari #kaoru hakaze #mephi's translations #undead climax #biohazard

[yilvue]

kiriko headcannons

gn!reader | first post, requests are SUPER open :] (seriously, how do i resize that damn big ass punk ass fucking spotify embed on my post? i want it a little smaller.)

how you two met / how she confessed

It was high school when you two got to know each other—through an art project.

“INSTRUCTIONS: draw your partner.” That’s where everything started.  

She adores your features, how you stare with those eyes and look back at your sketchbook immediately. God, that made her thought things.

Well, you on the other hand didn’t think much about her. You wanted the year to be over already and get this over with.

Months passed, and she is still your partner, well, for an art subject only. The teacher decided to keep it that way, saving time.

This time, “INSTRUCTIONS: photograph a scenery. Images from the Internet are strictly prohibited.”

You love taking pictures, you were ecstatic and looked forward to it.

The two of you decided to meet, outside of the school, her heart couldn’t help but beat faster than average when she saw you wearing something much different than the usual uniform from school.

“Wow, you look great!” she grins, hoping you wouldn’t notice her blush under the gold sunlight overhead. It was afternoon, a good time you can take mesmerizing pictures, you thought at home.

You smile with your eyes, “Thank you, Kiriko.”

“How do we do this again?” she asks, hands on her hip, trying to act cool. Staring and observing the waving fields of wheat, the air whistling in her ear.

“Take scenery photos, of course.” You say, the camera on hand, you and a plushy fox displayed from the small screen.

Kiriko immediately pointed it out. “That’s you?” she asked.

You smile at her, “Yeah, and my favorite toy.” Kiriko somewhat feels at ease that you have a toy fox as a childhood toy.

“Her name’s Kiriko.”

“WHAT?”  

Kiriko feels creeped out and happy at the same time, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t you like it?” you tease.

Kiriko feels a blockage in her throat. “Well, I do like it.” she decided that this is the perfect timing and the perfect place to confess. SHE. MUST. DO. IT. NO. MATTER. WHAT.

“But I like you more.”

Silence. Birds twittering overhead, the air still whistling, something has been dropped and it’s Kiriko’s feelings.

“Kiriko, what are you trying to say?” you ask her, trying to make sure this isn’t a prank or some sort because somehow you like her as well. The time you spent together as art project partners is much more.

Kiriko’s face turned super red and hid her face with her hands. “I’M SAYING THAT I HAVE ROMANTIC FEELINGS FOR YOU AND I WANT US TO BE TOGETHER MORE THAN THIS.” She screamed at the top of her lungs.

ok am gonna fucking cut it here because this is getting way too long. i’ll let your stupid big brain imagine.

how she acts in the relationship

After a long day, she would jump and cuddle with you on bed— like a fox dive into the snow!

Kiriko makes weird positions on bed (NOT THE SEXUAL WAY GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF THE GUTTER), you would wake up to her head locking you. Sometimes, she would sleep diagonally, or half of her body is on the floor, or she’s on the floor completely, totally passed out and no one will stop her from waking up.

Kiriko got pinched by a crab when you two were cooking together. The whole unit heard her screeching for 2 minutes straight.

Whenever she gets injured, she wouldn’t heal herself because she wants YOU to take care of her instead. Take all of the attention.

Kiriko would claim your things when she likes it. “Your shirt is so comfy, can I have it?” “Your shoes are so soft; I shall claim it as mine!” “Your jacket—” “JUST TAKE IT.”

Kiriko sometimes shows up at your work place on her bike before taking you on a date with sunglasses on and a red jacket. You feel proud for her yet so embarrassed of how many eyes and whispers are occurring.

Kiriko builds a pillow fort for you after a long day

She loves your neck, cheek and forehead to kiss on.

She loves when you trace her red marks under her eyes. Makes her feel fuzzy.

Buys stupid lovey dovey couple rings or necklaces for each other.

Teaches you sign language.

Whenever you wash the dishes, she would come for a flank attack. Back hugs!

Shows you her childhood photos without any feel of judgement.

Kiriko would name her plant after you.

Kiriko would write your name somewhere whenever she misses you or away from you.

You are mostly the driver and Kiriko is the DJ in the relationship.

Kiriko would peel oranges just for you. Also, peanuts. (Unless you’re allergic LOL L + RATIO BOZO COMMON W)

it’s not home without her <333333333333333333333333333

#Spotify #kirikoxreader #overwatchxreader #overwatch2xreaderr #overwatch 2 #ow2 #kiriko kamori #gaystuff #kiriko #overwatchfanfics #i love overwatch #overwatch x reader #kiriko x reader #kiriko kamori x reader #overwatch x gn

[notafunkiller]

I’m going to start a lot of trouble by saying this and I don’t care: There is something with stringy blonde hair and dead eyes that has been the cause of this exhaustion over the past two years. And tbh, he won’t look well rested or healthy again until he finds the courage and the self respect to kick it to the curb.

First of all, I want to say: feel free to express your opinions openly here, as I value and respect freedom of speech.

[Of course, as long as there are no threats... which is not the case now]

Second of all, there is something that stans do in most fandoms: they infantilize their favorite celebrities and act as if they are perfect. They project their dreams and wishes onto them (and their relationships sometimes) and they think they have the right to decide and know details about their private life.

They think sending letters and endless dms = normal. It's not.

[When a celebrity needs to block you because you are attacking their partner, you have a problem.]

They view those people as puppets. As if they have the right to know everything about them and be upset if they make their own decisions. If they disagree with their decisions, they treat them like kids (aka they're in denial) or get mad and so on...

[From roles and haircuts to personal life and vacations.]

Also, they think fans (not stans) who hold them accountable for mistakes or point out the obvious things (like PR, image strategies, paps walks) are haters.

Thirdly, Sebastian is an adult, who makes his own decisions, but the stans act as if he's a kid.

I totally love what you said: he won't look well rested or healthy again until he finds the courage and the self respect...

I pointed out he's been tired constantly for the last 2 years, and some stans made it sound as if I was hating on him and AW because I am jealous of her and I have some kind of obsession/parasocial relationship with him, when it's, indeed, just concern. Because he is pushing himself basically non-stop.

Like, it's his choice to do PR... (it's my opinion which can be wrong, ofc) since he's always been so warm -and his love language is touch- in his previous relationships even if they were private... and there is something off about his body language in general. And AW is known as a beard in Hollywood, which I don't judge. People do what they want...

And I don't feel sorry for him. I'm just worried he focuses too much on achieving things and he doesn't take care of himself and rest enough.

He wanted to have more power over his projects aka to produce (producing = freedom and control), so he agreed to sign with CAA (Creative Artists Agency).

Because even though he's American too, not just Romanian (he moved there when he was 12), he's still seen as a foreigner by the film industry.

It means Sebastian believes he still needs to prove himself to get awards. And getting an award is even harder in this case because no matter how much PR you do, how many paps walks you have, how hard working you are, how great you are at what you do, how much passion you put into your work and your roles, you're still (seen as) an outsider. I think this is why he chose to be a part of so many biopics.

[Don't get me wrong, I think the roles he chose and chooses are challenging (grey, with personality) and send a message in general. He always gets out of his comfort zone, which is incredible. But I feel like he driven by the urge to prove himself]

This is why I think the Silver Bear meant and means the world to him. And I wish he knew an Oscar wouldn't say anything about him as an actor... about his talent. Many incredible actors do not have one, and we know it's about politics there.

I recommend a good article on the subject:

#asked #my opinions #sebastian stan

[futuristicsaladparadise]

Enhancing Doll Brows

This is my guide to either enhancing or completely redoing an AG doll’s eyebrows. Several people have asked about this, and I hope it will be useful.

You will need: a doll, watercolor pencils in black, brown and white, cotton swabs (preferably the pointy makeup ones), a small amount of water, and setting spray. If you are removing the original brows, you’ll also need nail polish remover and a paper towel to wipe the color off. 

I use Mr. Super Clear from Amazon, specifically the matte UV Cut version, so it doesn’t dry shiny and protects the doll’s vinyl and paint from fading in sunlight. The watercolor pencils were from a cheap set I got at the craft store. Almost any brand will do, but make sure your pencils are sharp! (I had to sharpen my white and black after I took this photo.)

Next, you will need to prep your doll for her treatment. You can easily overspray and get the setting spray in the doll’s eyes and hair, and it makes the eyes cloudy and the hair dry and crunchy. To prevent this, I used a couple of long scraps to tie back and cover my subjects’ hair, and half a cotton ball taped down to protect their eyes. You want to make sure there is plenty of space to work around their brows, so you might notice that you can see the top of Lydia’s (known as Subject A for this post) eyelids. This is fine as long as the eyelashes are covered. 

Once ready, go outside and spray their faces with the setting spray, concentrating on the forehead. Be careful not to totally soak the face. All you want is a light dusting. Once it dries, you can always spray another layer if you don’t think the first one is sufficient. This preliminary spray makes a better surface for your pencils to grip. If you skip it, you may not be able to get any pigment on your doll’s face. Let dry for 20-30 minutes between layers.

Next, you will want to start filling in the brows with short, light strokes, from root to tip, in the direction of hair growth. You will likely want to practice with a pencil on paper first, if you haven’t done this before. 

This is after a handful of strokes on each brow. I usually begin with black, but I did Subject A’s left brow in brown first for illustration purposes. It doesn’t really matter which you start with. For me, brown is primarily a filler, unless I’m working on a doll I want to have paler brows. 

This is after some more lines in both black and brown, with a few (4-5) strokes of white to provide depth. 

If you make a mistake, use the water and a cotton swab/Q-tip to remove the errant mark and continue. You may have to remove everything you have done and start over. That’s okay. In this case, I didn’t like the white line at the bottom of her left eyebrow, so I wiped it off and re-drew the black and brown lines that were removed. 

Keep working until you are satisfied with the result, then set with another layer of setting spray. Your doll will look amazing!

It helps if you don’t immediately go to set the paint after you finish. Give it a few minutes, then go back and look to make sure it’s the look you want. I did this several times with mine, and I kept adding a few lines here and there until I was happy. If you spray it and then decide you don’t like it, you will have to use nail polish remover and it will wipe out the original paint along with your watercolor work.

New brows: These are much more difficult than simply filling in because you have no good indication of their shape and position.

Once you have removed the original ones with nail polish remover and done the preliminary spray, you can start sketching a guiding line. 

This image shows a couple of layers of short strokes, following the brow ridge. 

This was so, so hard for me in the beginning, one eyebrow would be perfect and the other would...not. At all. If you aren’t sure of your skills, you may want to get a practice head from eBay or somewhere to practice on until you feel ready to work on a “real” doll. 

More lines, going over the original work. As you can see, they aren’t quite the same, so I kept going, setting Subject B aside for awhile several times. I used black, then brown, and then a few white strokes. 

Set the paint afterwards with the setting spray.

Et voila! I’m not 100% happy with that right eyebrow, but I can go back and redo it some other time. 

#American Girl dolls #how to draw doll eyebrows #customizing #doll crafts #american girl #AG

[caesarflickermans]

Twenty Questions: Fic Author Edition

tagged by the lovely @thesweetnessofspring and @bodyelectric77 (my heart is warm for uuu <3)

1-How many works do you have on ao3?

Two (+ a deleted one)

2-What's your total AO3 word count?

89,860

3-What fandoms do you write for?

THG. I’ve been writing in it for ten years (RP before fic), and I much rather go into publishing before I move to any other fanfiction tbh.

4-What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

She smelled like white roses

Burning bright in the city of the night

5-Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Absolutely! I try to, at least! Sometimes I get so excited about a comment that I’ll leave it in my inbox for a few days just to get excited again. Especially with my first fic that is very niche in this fandom, I get insanely happy about the fact that people are interested in it enough that they comment on it.

6-What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

This is hard, as I’ve only really written two works. Burning bright comes the closest, even if the final sentence is more a relief than anything, but it is mysterious throughout. Depending on who readers think the stranger outside is, the entire story can either be very angsty or not angsty at all.

7-What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

SSLWR is technically not finished as it has a second longfic coming up, but it ends on a very happy note. I’ve had THE urge™ throughout the fic and even while planning to kill Virgilia off as a repeated circle notion, but it’s breaking the circle that is so vital. Even if she has succeeded in finding out the truth about the past wife (a mystery from the first chapter onward!), educated herself about our past, and found actual love that exists/is not a fairytale, it’s still not a character journey over. If anything, characters—and on a meta level people—like her deserve a happy ending. Even if just to show that there’s the chance to do a 180, no matter the situation. (Doesn’t mean the horrors aren’t awaiting her though 😊)

8-Do you get hate on fics?

No, and I’m kinda? Surprised lol? Like maybe it’s just that niche that you’d only click on it if you are at least semi-interested, but with the heavy subject matter I had expected some people being very critical of the content—the whole debate what belongs and doesn’t belong in (fan)fiction.

9-Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Sort of? SSLWR included a smut scene in ‘Queenside’. It was very flowery, though. So, yes, but it’s not a very descriptive scene. I wanted to stay true to V’s character and focus more-so on the emotional inner thoughts and meaning of having this moment. That said, of course this isn't the last time they will do it, especially with the next longfic including more romantic couplings, but I don't see the purpose of writing them out. The before and after seems much more important, so if I end up wanting to write it again, it will be similar to the first moment in what it did and did not mention.

10-Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Not in fanfiction, but I’ve done a lot of AUs for Caesar and Virgilia in RP context. Caesar has really been in any kind of popular media from the past decade to roleplay with people’s characters there. He’s been a Tyrell in ASOIAF, and he’s been a former show host in TLOU-like verses. My most used one is a modern AU where he lives in NYC as a late night host. As for Virgilia, it’s been much fewer and I don’t really set her in other media anymore. But she has several modern verses, among those one where she grew up in a FLDS-like cult and escaped eventually.

11-Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No

12-Have you ever had a fic translated?

No

13-Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

No

14-What's your all-time favorite ship?

I don’t really do ships outside of the ones I have; which are Caesar/Cinna, Cressida/Fulvia, and Virgilia/Plutarch. I also have two ships with my rp partner, @beedelia. The first is Caesar/Bedelia Du Maurier from H.annibal, and the second is the sole victor I'm shipping Caesar with; a middle aged victor from 7 who lost his eyesight in the arena.

15-What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I only have one more WIP planned and it’s going to take some time, but I have confidence in it being finished. I do have some loose ideas about writing some one shots that detail more on tertiary characters, such as Paylor, but it’s nothing more than an idea. Would be in the same style as Tigris' one shot, so it's more a "once I really start, I don't think it will be abandoned".

16-What are your writing strengths?

I think I’m a good character writer. It’s a given coming from RP, but I think I can breathe life into the characters I write, and give them good story arcs. With Virgilia especially, I’m always baffled that people say they like her character or liked her journey, so I’d say that’s working quite well for me writing wise.

17-What are your writing weaknesses?

That I take a long time and overthink everything. I want my first draft to be really good, so I cannot settle for okay. I rewrite sentence and am generally slow because I want what’s coming out on the blank screen to be good. It doesn’t help that—obviously—I’m no native speaker, so my sentence structure or vocabulary is never going to be the best; I feel like both are fairly repetitive. I do try to use Merriam Webster a lot to spice it up, but it can only help so much. I’m also not sure how I’m doing pacing wise. Coming from RP, I was used a lot more to, say, 200-500 word replies where I was writing short scenes with someone else. Pacing was never a question here. But I feel like I’ve improved on this ever since I started writing longer stories.

18-Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

It doesn’t happen in Panem, anyhow. As @bodyelectric77 has said, some headcanon that Spanish is spoken in District 4, but I don’t believe that the fascist government would want to keep any other language than English in its country, because it makes surveillance so much harder. But for a more general approach: I find it unnecessary. If the character doesn’t speak the language, then it’s essentially just a blank for them. Why should they know what the other is saying? If they do speak that language, then don’t build on the reader being able to speak it (or being bothered to look it up. Why do I need google translate for a fic, grr!). Just give me indirect dialogue then (“He said XYZ in Spanish”).

19-First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter back when I was 12 or so. Both in RP and fanfiction.

20-Favorite fic you've ever written?

She smelled like white roses. It’s my passion project. Though I’ve got a feeling that Birds of the Capitol (current WIP) is going to be my magnum opus in a way. Really encapsulating 10+ years of writing (RP/fanfiction) in this fandom. I’m excited, scared, nervous, thrilled. Everything.

Tagging: @mollywog, @lemonluvgirl, @thesmileykate, @districtunrest, @petruchio

#writing #fanfiction #huh i do need a tag for my fanfiction #marie.txt #about

[theold-ultraviolence]

.

I feel so exhausted and depressed and I don’t know what else to do to make my brain work to finish my homework. I can’t seem to concentrate and I’m just so fed up of this same routine of waking up and sitting in front of the fucking computer to try to work through the heaps of work I have to do whole the day goes by and it feels like I’ve wasted another day of my fucking life just sitting here staring at a screen while life is happening outside. And it’s not even a subject matter that interests me, not anymore. I’m so fed up with the people in my field. So fed up with the people I deal with in class, and at work. And I just feel exhausted and so lost like I totally lost my purpose and motivation for everything, not just work. I’m so tired I can’t even read or sit through a movie, and it’s not like I even have time to do that. When I’m not working, I’m trying to cram my studying between taking care of my grandma and trying to get a second of rest and I’m so exhausted. I can’t sleep at night because my mind is racing and my back hurts so bad all the time. I go from work, to my home, back and forth, every single fucking day and I feel like, what am I even working towards? I have no friends that I see irl, no partner. I feel like I’m everybody’s go-to when they need to be supported irl and I never get somebody to pull me aside, to ask me how I am, or if I’m doing alright or if I need help. I feel so emotional all the time and cry all the time, and I feel like I’m reaching this breaking point that’s the culmination of everything horrible that’s happened to me this year and I don’t know what to do to get back on my feet and regain motivation and purpose. I feel so lost. I feel like my life is just passing by, like I’ve lost a lot of precious time because I’ve been surviving. I wish someone could just come and just hold me for a whole day and take the reigns and the weight off of my back for one day, please. I feel so lost and so alone.

#just a girl venting #don’t reblog