#I have like 700 chapters to read | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

When “GIF” was named word of the year in 2012, Oxford Dictionaries U.S.A. credited Tumblr for pushing the word.

#I have like 700 chapters to read

capisback · 2 years

Note

Any tips on starting OP? It's one of those shows that's like SO LONG idk where to even begin

I first watched One Piece when I was 11 and somehow had the mental fortitude to watch one piece in its entirety about 3 times, so I don't know what I'd do if I started it now for the first time. However! I do want to try and help, and I hope the few tips I have will help you.

Decide what you want to do: Do you want to read it? Or do you want to watch it? Which is your favorite way to consume media, and/or which do you think you could put a better long-time investment into? Start with the one you think will fit best. If that isn't working for you, you can always try the other instead.

One Piece is long, yes, but that doesn't mean you have to watch/read it in one sitting. You can watch just one episode a week or every two weeks if that's what works for you. There's absolutely no rush to finish it, you just have to enjoy the ride at your own pace. I personally prefer manga for this, since you go chapter per chapter and it's easier to let it lie for a little bit, while an anime episode does have a certain time investment you are required to put into it, since most are about 20 or so minutes. You could, of course, watch only half an episode instead of a full one.

One Piece is a fairly straight-forward series to start! Not like the Fate series, which when I heard about it for the first time I instantly gave up on watching. You start from the beginning and work your way to the end, at any speed you want. There are spin-off stories, but those are mostly gags or things that happened before the series, so you don't have to worry about reading those at all, since it won't impact your experience reading/watching the series.

The anime does, in my opinion, suffer from some pacing issues. If you'd prefer to watch instead of reading, but the pacing bothers you, you could always watch One Pace. It's made by fans who try to fix the pacing a bit by making it as close to the manga as possible. They don't have all the arcs done and some aren't finished yet, though, so if you want to go that route, feel free to ask me where you should jump into the official anime and where to jump back into One Pace

Here's a small tip: if you think the Syrup Village arc (where they meet the character Usopp) is too long, you should skip it. It does drag on for a while too long, and that's where my family lost interest in watching one piece, though they did enjoy what came before

To finish, Yes, One Piece is long, and yes, this might seem daunting, but trust me when I say that once you get into it, you completely forget about its length. It's absolutely worth putting time into, since it's an incredible series, and it's brought me a great amount of joy over the past 8 to 9 months that I've been back into it

#I personally prefer the start (when luffy is 17 - comes after chapter 1 in the manga) of the anime over the manga's #but that doesn't really matter much #if you decide to read then I'd say that if you don't like the Alvida chapter that's fine - it gets better past that #a mutual of mine said that they slowed down around the 700 mark bc they realised they were getting close to the end #and they didn't want that to happen yet #that's what happens when you get into one piece lol #the anime has one anime-only arc that is a fan favorite bc it's a legit good arc and that's the G8 Arc #(starts at episode 195 according to the wiki)#if you have any more questions feel free to ask!!#I'm not sure if this is what you wanted or answers all your questions so please don't hesitate to ask more #if you have any unanswered questions #you can also always DM me if you want #if any of my followers or mutuals have any tips feel free to add on!#I usually read manga bc the time investment doesn't feel as daunting #you read a chapter and if you have the time and if you want to then you read the next #it's also easier to put down in the middle of a chapter if you have to go do something else #it's harder to do that with anime so I tend to watch those either when I have a lot of time or with my family #cap talks #cap answers #one piece #op #ask #anon #this was a really fun ask to get and answer! thanks anon!

16 notes · View notes

betawooper · 1 year

Photo

[ID: A bulleted list detailing aspects of Kim Dokja from Omniscient Reader. He is transmasc. Transcript:

He realized he was trans when he was around 14 years old. This is roughly around 700 chapters into TWSA, when Joonghyuk was well into her own identity crisis.

He went through many gender-affirming surgeries once he was around 22 years old. This had caused him to go into a lot of hospital debt, but at least he no longer looked so much like his mother.

End ID.]

me: im about to make these character notes so fucking depressing

#literally everyone else has more neutral or even positive lists #sauce reads orv #i feel like 700 chapters is excessive and also not even accurate but i have yet #to see the timeline so #transfem yjh au #transfem yoo joo au

0 notes

simp-ly-writes · 5 months

Text

Lasting Pictures: Up and Under (pt.2)

Pairing: Poly!Task Force 141 x Photographer!Reader

Summary: Signing the papers was one thing, actually going back and doing the work was another. Memories come hurling back at you as you try and navigate this new lifestyle while getting to know the members of your new task force- some warm up quicker to you than others but are your trials all for nothing? Or maybe, just maybe this new start has other possibilities for you as well....

Warnings: 4952 words, Slow burn, heavy imagery of anxiety attack and PTSD, descriptions of blood and swearing.

A/N: Hey ya'll thank you all so much for all the love on the first post, weird to see so many people liking my shitty writing. Anyways! todays chapter is dedicated to my fellow stranger @cosychick who made this chapter possible (TYSM again, seriously). On another note... I may have written a lot again... and have an outline for many more chapters... hope you guys enjoy this next part! let me know what you think~

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist

The cheers surrounding the room are soon put to an end as the boys soon get ordered to return back to their duties on base as you and Gabby stay behind with Laswell. She opens your file on the table, flipping towards the back as she comments on your years of leave from the military. Your task force had all been promoted within the ranks and some were found less on field and more in strategy. You smiled at this newfound information, as it slightly fell when Laswell said how poorly they took your leave and lack of communication afterwards while tailing off on a few names that have you blinking your eyes quickly.

The room falling quiet once more, Gabby grasps your hand in her own- rubbing small circles into the back of it in an effort to comfort you. You squeeze it twice in response; awaiting Laswell to continue her commentary as a knock can be heard coming from the door, Price enters then closes it behind himself as he takes his seat back beside Laswell with his own paperwork in hand and places it on the table. He motions with a flick of his wrist for you guys to continue as he grabs for a pair of glasses and takes the lid of a pen off; beginning to flip through the sheets, signing every few pages while referencing others. Laswell continues to speak while opening a second file with your polaroid clipped to the front.

“Has your body fully healed from the incident?”

“Yes, ma’am”

“Do you still take medication for it or any other symptoms you have experienced as a result?”

“Yes I do”

Laswell hums in response, flickering to the next page as you lightly sigh in relief and Gabby comments, “May I speak freely?”

“You may”

“They have made a full recovery, I made sure of it before contacting them…” Gabby looks over at you, happiness is found in her squished cheeks from smiling so brightly as she drops your hand to reach over the table for your papers, “...I recommend still going through with the fitness regulation test for formal qualities- but they would pass easily nonetheless.”

Price decides to lift his head and joins the conversation once more, “some practice missions with 141 before sending directly to the field would be of value to us all as well. Time is limited- I know-”

You smile slightly at his addition, nodding your head in agreement before finishing his sentence, “but a little team building never hurt nobody” you tease lightly back as John matches your smile before returning back to the work at hand. Gabby leans over, clearing her throat loudly to whisper in your ear, “So what type of team building do you have planned~?”

Swatting her away while covering your cheeks from your blush, John chuckles to himself as you shrink into your sweater, cursing Gabby mentally as Laswell gives you all a tisk with a small smile gracing its way across her features; her tone lightening.

“You will get along great with the team, Dice, from what I read and see here today. 0-700 tomorrow for your assessment and I want you to move on to base with the rest of the team temporarily to redevelop your skills for the imminent future. Deployment is set for two weeks from now. That is all, thank you both” Laswell finishes, collecting her belongings before tapping Price on the shoulder on her way out.

Stacking the papers into a neat pile; he looks between you and Gabby before sliding an unsigned document, tapping his finger to where he wants you to sign and handing you his pen. Glancing down at it, its weight is surprisingly heavy and the small engraving of 141 on the lid has you smiling, you look over the page- reading through each clause before signing your name at the bottom and sliding it back with a sigh.

Gabby slaps your shoulder with yet another cheer as she calls for drinks tonight that has you shaking your head at the idea. “I have my assessment in the morning scales, can’t be going out and doing that just yet.”

“Lame” Gabby states back childishly before asking if you wanted a drive back, you smile thankfully at this as you begin to stand from your seat. Knees a bit weak from staying in the same position for too long. Yet as your hand hovers over the door handle, a small call out from the table has you turning back to face your new captain.

“Welcome to the team Y/N”

“Thank you Captain”

Keys swing around Gabbys finger as you both make your way towards the parking lot at the back of the base. Walking through the halls and across the pavement; viewing all the helicopters and equipment tucked nearly away has memories sending goosebumps across your skin, nerves and excitement mixing together in your anxiety driven cocktail as you follow in Fish’s shadow.

Gabby clicks the small device twice as the car flashes its lights with a small honk. Yet as you begin to enter the vehicle a calling out of your name from another car has you smacking your head against the roof of the car and eliciting a loud groan as you rub the spot gently, turning to face whomever got you into this state.

Gaz smiles apologetically from the rolled-down window as he asks if you want help tomorrow moving your stuff on to base, he mentioned that your new captain already sent a message to the infamous groupchat you had yet to be added to. Smiling at the man's kindness you accept as he asks for your number. Walking up to his car, exchanging phones; you place your name alone in his as Gaz places a petrol symbol for himself that has you giggling when you read it. Tapping the top of his car in a sign of goodbye, he drives through the gates and away.

Turning back you see Gabby leaned against the car with a cheeky grin, “do I need to report anything to the council already, lieutenant?”

“Yet?! Do you honestly think I am getting with any of them, or that they would have any interest in all of this shit?” You reply while flinging your hands up and down your body, emphasising your statement.

“Well.. you and Soap looked to be getting cosy…”

“I needed physical comfort, you know this”

“Mmhmm”

“Gabby! I swear to god-”

“Mmhmm”

“Even with my last team, we almost never did any of that shit”

“Almost?” She teases back.

“Not like that Gabs! ugh!”

Gabby does not bother to listen to anymore of your protests as she hops backs into the vehicle, the engine roaring to life as you sit yourself into the passengers side with a huff, buckling your seatbelt before helping her to check the blindspots and give directions back to your place.

The drive back is peaceful after the hellish day you have had. Gabby flipped you off while driving away as your neighbour complained about hearing your cat moving about your apartment too loudly. Apologising you turned the key in the hole and entered, the space was dark with a small candle coming from the kitchen. Cursing to yourself for leaving it unattended, blowing it out you called for Spoons to make sure he didn’t hurt himself from it.

Checking the cat over in your arms and sighing out in relief, you hunched down slightly so they could move to your shoulders and motioned to get their medication before you started the debate of ordering in or cooking dinner for yourself. Opening the fridge you cursed to find it empty, resting your forehead against its metal door to cool your head, you felt for your phone the jean pocket as Spoons meows loudly in your ear.

Placing him on the counter and closing the door with your foot, you order delivery and feel for your wallet; walking yourself back into the living and falling onto the cushioned seat, feet pressed atop the coffee table as you threw a weighted blanket over yourself and turned the television on. Doctor Who played across the screen as you chucked at their antics and companions' poorly timed jokes, the doorbell ringing and a tip being served before you switched to the VOD for the football game.

Your team was losing severely as you whisper-yelled at the screen, afraid of getting a thorough beating from your elderly neighbour. You flicked it off before it finished and noticed that your plate was empty. Placing the containers in the fridge and washing your dishes in the sink, you see Spoons sleeping on the half-wall separating your kitchen from the dining room. Their belly turned upwards as light snores exited their body. Snapping a quick picture to show Ghost in the morning, you began your nightly routine.

Showering, brushing and flossing your teeth, alongside applying your moisturizers. You shuffled underneath the covers while doing some last minute scrolling through your phone. Rolling your eyes when you saw the endless stream of reels being sent from Gabbys personal account that had you switching your ringer off and placing it on to charge. Setting your alarm clock to sound you closed your eyes as your body jerked throughout the night, awaking in a cold sweat as only a few hours had passed before doing your best at returning back to sleep.

The loud sound of ringing gradually made its way across your ears as you groaned and blindly reached over to turn it off; you ended up swatting it off the nightstand, the loud crash had you sitting upright from the sound of it smacking against the hardwood floors. Being stubborn to get out of bed just yet, you reach across the room to pick it up and shut it up. Falling back into the covers you reach for your phone and smile seeing your parents’ name in the notifications, they wish you a strong return back with a string of emojis that has you shaking your head while replying, slightly regretting for introducing them to that submenu on the keyboard.

Stretching and rolling out your yoga mat, you do our daily exercises before setting the kettle to boil and heading for a quick shower. The mirror clouds over as you draw a small heart across its surface while scrolling for just the right song to start getting ready to.

Coming back out- refreshed you dig through the back of your closet to find parts of your old uniform that you didn’t have the heart to send down to the storage rooms. Placing it across your frame and looking at yourself in the foyer mirror. A tear slides itself down your cheek as you swiftly wipe it away. Spoons soon comes between your legs pawing to be fed as you lightly smile down at them.

Apologizing to your furry friend, you give them their daily medication and head out the door, to your car in the underground parkade. 06:10 reads on the dash as you drive back to the base from memory. While at a light you start a call with Gabby, hoping that she would fess up to what types of testing you will go through today, yet she gave you nothing much to your dismay other than some teasing as usual.

“Did you end up talking to Gaz more last night when you exchanged numbers?”

“No, I talked to my parent though.”

“Oh! I miss them, are they still single?”

“Gabs I swear-”

“Hey! Just an honest question…”

“Sure, sure.”

“Are you here yet?”

“Almost, about a block away”

“Okay good.”

“Everything al’right?”

“Oh yeah, Soap just keeps telling me I'm no fun now that he’s met you, butthurt honestly.”

“Well I have always been the funnier one.”

“Thanks, just what I needed to hear.”

“You know me- social skills, simply perfection…” you end with a giggle in your voice, “...okay im at the gate now, see you in a few.”

Pulling the car into an empty parking spot, you ended the call while hauling your work bag with your camera inside over your shoulder from the passenger's seat and take your metal water bottle with you. Locking the car with a click you walked towards the main building and picked yourself up a new badge. Wincing at your picture, you hide it in your jacket pocket as you make your way down the hall and towards the locker rooms to put your stuff down.

Taking in a deep breath, you made your way out to the fields and saw everyone standing in a circle, speaking in hushed tones before halting at the sounds of your footsteps nearning. Giving the group a small wave, Gabby came over and wished you luck with a large hug and kiss against your cheek before returning back to her duties. Laswell stood to the side, clipboard in hand as she began to look at her watch, anxious to begin and return to her stack of files as well.

Soap speedily walks his way over to you, clapping a hand on your shoulder and pulling you in to his side, he wishes you good luck and a few other words told in his native tongue that you didn’t quite catch before Ghost is shouting across the field, in what would appear an aggressive tone to any new listener.

“English, Jonny”

“Fuckin’ Britts you lot”

“Hey you! Don't assume my nationality you prick”

Soap looks at you wide-eyed and apologetically as words and curses fall out of his mouth like a waterfall. Gaz can he heard chucking off to the side as you pat Soaps shoulder and tell him that you were just pulling his leg. He nods his head and sighs out in relief while looking up towards the grey skies. Making your way over to greet the Captain and Ghost, they both offer you a firm handshake once more as you provide a wide smile back before heading towards Gaz sitting on a nearby bench beside Laswell.

Sitting beside him, he starts making small talk and eventually asks what you are doing directly after this. Looking towards Laswell she shrugs and reminds you of the team-building you promised to do before calling you to the starting line. Gaz makes a quick note for you to continue your conversation later as he shouts you a good luck as you make your way away. He sits up from the bench and moves to stand beside Simon and the others in line to the side.

Nearing the starting line, you notice a series of vertical obstacles ranging from a rope climb, an outstanding rock wall and a fence hop. Leaning your body to the side, you look further down to see a tire you will need to push alongside a series of pylons lining a large section of the tarmac. A long run, how great after all of that.

Shaking your head of the negativity, you closed your eyes and evened your breathing before sending Laswell a nod of your head, ready to tackle this course to the best of your ability. The sound of a shout coming from the Station Chief has your body moving faster than your mind as you hoist yourself up the rope and jump down to the other side.

Your body wavers slightly upon impact yet as soon as your knees steady once more you are running up the rock wall to boost yourself up, skipping half of it as you hear Gaz praising your technique while waiting running to wait for you on the other side. Using your feet and hands, you slip slightly from the lack of gloves or chalk before running down the ramp on the other side. Next you are sprinting over to hop over three sizes of fences as Soap claps loudly at the end telling you how many obstacles you have left.

Smiling to yourself in a layer of sweat, you side-hop the last small fence before whipping your forehead with the backside of your arm and collapse yourself to the floor in low crawl under the wire frames above. The mud finds its way into your boots and underneath your fingernails as you sigh happily at its cool texture on your skin.

Nearing the end you look ahead of yourself to see the long awaited large tire sitting flush against the ground. Picking yourself up to stand and shaking your hands violently while running over, you heave it up with a large grunt and push it to fall. Completing these repetitive actions tenfold before showing the tire over the designated cones. The long awaited run now awaited you as Price praised you with a large smile, yours matching his own as your feet began to pick up pace once more, now desperately trying to reach the end of the course in time.

The soon becomes in view as you see Laswell standing there, stopwatch in hand as Gabby appears beside her, jumping enthusiastically and pointing at your approaching frame. This momentarily distracts you from the pain you are feeling throughout your body as it takes everything in you to run the last quarter mile.

Yet as you near, the shouting of all your awaiting squad members, the sound of your blood pumping through your ears and your laboured breaths has you faltering slightly as your world spins and the finish line is closer than ever before.

Memories cloud over your senses as you can feel the sweat dripping off your neck and down your back. The feeling of cold metal combing itself against your skin has you shivering in your overheated state as your stomach begins to turn itself outwards.

You don’t notice yourself running across the finish line and slightly pass before a pair of arms wrap themselves around your frame and hold you steady as they shake your shoulders in an effort to make you become present.

You can feel a distant hand running circles on to your lower back as they brush the hair out of your eyes and behind your ears before resting their hand against your forehead, checking your temperature while making a hand motion in the other as the sounds of multiple boots rushing over have you swaying in their hold and holding your stomach as you kneel over. Knees falling to the pavement as you collapse on to your side. Eyes blurry as you see the rough contours of faces shaking your legs and holding your chin before they push you into recovery position as you throw up your guts on to someone's boots.

Apologising subconsciously in a gravel filled tone. The sounds of cries over power your being as you shrink into yourself, tears falling. But soon enough you feel laying down beside you as they tug you over and point to the clouds in the sky while you rub your eyes. The multiple pairs of eyes on you have fallen significantly as you take in a large breath and whip your eyes and cheeks with the back of your hand.

Looking over to your left you see Gabby staring at you smiling, remenist to what you would do as kids in your backyard, making stories out of all the clouds above and promises of your futures together. How times have changed as the pavement burned itself against the back of your head that still felt a bit fuzzy and your hands shook slightly against your sides.

As Gabby directs you to copy her breathing and calls for your bag to be brought over while searching for your medication side, she asks softly if you remember to take some yesterday. Eyes going wide you shake your head and groan to yourself while placing the back side of your hand to rest against your forehead, shielding your eyes from the sun beginning to poke its way through the clouds.

Doing your best to hoist yourself to a sitting position, your frame wobbles slightly as Gabby rapidly turns her body around and her face turns into horror. Her hands are filled as she watches you sway and almost crash your head against the tarmac once more yet thankfully an arm had you hoisted up against their side as they joined you on the floor.

Smiling over to Gaz thankfully he rubbed your shoulder and Gabby kneeled down to hand you a cup of water and a few pills. Looking at them in your hand, shuffling them slightly in your palm you threw them into your mouth, tipping your head back consciously as the water made its way down your system.

Gaz then handed you a pack of crackers that were obviously from an MRE. You winched in reaction that had Gaz giggling at your face before it fell when Fish just about punched him to remove it. Shaking your head slightly at the two and telling Gaz you know he meant nothing poor of it, you begin to take small bites out of the cracker while looking around to find where everyone else went.

As you stare down the field, you see Laswell and Price in a heated argument as the boys stand to his side, a few grand hand gestures are made as Soap flings his arms around wildly, almost hitting Ghost in the face that has him holding his limbs still so the Captain can focus.

Looking towards Gaz once more you ask simply, “Hey Gaz…” He hums to you in reply while his focus is on making sure that you continue to eat, “...Shouldn’t you be down there listening to what Laswell and Price have to say?”

“I think something more important came up that held my attention”

As you move to apologise, Gaz holds his other hand up slightly as you pause your next words. His eyes crinkle slightly as he stares eye level into your own, your mouth opens slightly at the sight of his smile so close to your face, yet you shake your head blaming it on all the anxiety still coursing its way through your system.

“Sometimes all we need is to sit down with someone so that the world can figure itself out.”

You humm in reply as clears her throat softly as you both jerk your bodies in reaction, forgetting her presence in front of you. She shakes her head and chuckles lightly at both of your reactions before saying, “what about some words of wisdom for yours truly, Garrick?” While fluttering her eyelashes.

Rolling your eyes you can’t help but chuckle at your best friends seemingly never ending sass as you ask, “Garrick?” While tilting your head to the side, staring at Gaz’s profile as he simply explains that it's his last name and you nod to this newfound information.

“My full name is actually Kyle “Gaz” Garrick”

“Kyle Garrick” You test the name out upon your lips as he gives you once of his famous smiles once more while squeezing your shoulder.

“My name sounds a whole lot better while coming out from between your lips”

Gasping at his comment, you blush widely in response while holding your cheeks with the palms of your hand in an effort to hide your growing embarrassment. Groaning while leaning forward, your head falls into Gabbys lap as she laughs once more at you while combing her fingers through your hair as Gaz slides his hand to rest against your back.

Mumbling in Gabbys secure hold about his touch not helping your state. You hear a loud laugh as he reacts with his hand apologising. The lack of his touch as you question the equally relieved and disappointed emotions flashes across your brain. Yet this bubble of a moment would soon be broken as the rest of the team returned around you.

Everyone eventually sat down on the pavement that had you mentally giggling to yourself, the ghost of a smile makes its way across your features as you notice the formation you all have made is reminiscent of the duck, duck, goose game.

Soap soon leans over to whisper in your ear, “tag, you’re it” while poking your shoulder jokingly. Wincing in an exaggerated manner has Soap quickly asking if you alright as you smile kindly in response, “I’m feeling a lot better now, thank you Soap”

He nods back in response before shifting his focus to Gaz, eyeing how close he is sitting against you now all the more obvious as Gabby moved herself to sit between Laswell and Ghost. Yet making no comments on his observations that has relief spreading across your skin. You did not need anymore teasing.

Looking back around the circle yourself, you notice as the Captain does a quick look over of you before nodding his head in approval and turning his attention towards Laswell who appears to be choosing their next words carefully as you feel Ghosts gaze settling hot against your profile.

Tilting your head slightly, you notice how he plays with his gloves and how soft his eyes appear behind the mask as if asking you a simple question to your state. Offering a small smile and nod in recognition you watch out of the corner of your eye as his fidgeting stops and he too eyes Laswells next words.

Clearing her throat, her eyes make their way around the circle and stop at you, “you have done well today Y/L/N, flying colours for the obstacle course and impressive return I must add. Yet after today…” Her sentence drifts off as she lacks the words necessary to continue, looking over to Price for help.

The Captain holds your eyes softly in his own as he finishes for Laswell, “from discussions earlier and your best interests in mind, Laswell and the team have decided that we won’t be putting you on attack for now.” A large sigh escapes your mouth as you feel conflicted on how to feel about not fully coming back.

Price continues, “until then you come with us on missions to gather intelligence for Fish under our watch.”

“I understand sir” you respond back, doing the best to hide your emotion in your voice as you see Soap shift himself closer to your side in noticing your slight change in tone. Your eyes are still being held by the captains as you see his eyes wince slightly at your response before his face returns to its professional state.

Slapping his hands against his knees with a throat clearing he stands up from the sitting circle and dismisses the meeting, turning around and walking his way back inside the main building. Laswell follows suit, dragging Gabby alongside her while they both compare paper-workloads.

Gabby turns around mouthing an apology for leaving so soon as you look back and see Ghost is now a bit further away with Soap as they appear to be chatting seriously over something together before Ghost locks him into a headlock. Shaking your lead and looking away all you hear are the sounds of them scraping one another in the background as you find Kyle waiting to ask you something.

“Do you want me to come over tonight?” Kyle questions softly while tilting his head, awaiting your response.

“To come over?”

“Oh ah-apologies, I meant to move your things temporarily on base”

“Oh,” You laugh lightly while shaking your head of the drifting thoughts you were having, “...yeah some help would be great Kyle! Thank you so much for the offer once more.”

“It's really nothing Y/N.”

“Still…”

“Well, how about after you treat me to some coffee together the day after?”

“I like the sound of that,” You say while doing your best to hide the ever growing smile spreading its way across your rosy cheeks as you notice Gaz smiling back at your adorable self.

“Why do you get to call Gaz by their first name and not me?! I thought I was your favorite based upon yesterday, what has this British man done to your head beauty?” Soap cries out while quickly walking back over to you as Ghost is nowhere to be seen.

Your head throws back in laughter as your shoulders rise and fall in swift motions. Gaz shakes his head at his squad member, shoving his shoulder lightly from around your frame with the hint of a smile tugging at the ends of his lips. While Soap remains completely serious in the matter, grabbing your shoulders lightly to make sure you are facing him when you respond.

“Okay then Soap…” Your voice deepens teasingly at the mention of his callsign “...so what would you like me to call you?”

You watch as his eyebrows raise and a smirk slides its way across his features that has you already groaning, predicting what he is going to say as you can hear Kyle laughing behind you at the interaction.

“Mhmm, well there are a number of things I would love you to call me…” You roll your eyes at this comment, “...Yet for now let's stick to Johnny.”

“Johnny?”

“You got it, Johnny.”

“Can’t promise I can say it with a scottish accent like you do”

“Humor me”

“Please don’t make me.”

“Just once, c'mon, promise not to record this one…”

“This one!”

“Oh shit.”

“Oh shit is right, Johnny” You respond in a horrible Scottish accent that has Soap reeling with laughter as he grips your shoulder and pulls you into a hug as Gaz laughs harder in the background. The flash of a camera can be heard as you call pause to face the sound to see Ghost pocketing his phone inside his black hoodie.

╰┈➤ A/N: so... what did you guys think? Have a favorite member so far? Thank you serious for reading all of this lol.

Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist

399 notes · View notes

number1jeonginstan · 7 months

Text

[1:23 am]

Chan x afab!reader (established relationship)

A/N: Feeling the need to write and I'm like 700 words into the second chapter of Coffee (I write really fast). Also, this is my first time ever writing smut, so I thought I should make it a short story. Please give me constructive criticism so I can improve for you guys! I want to write things that you guys truly enjoy and want to read! Please ask if you want me to write anything in particular.

WC: 1k (I literally meant to make this 300 words...)

CW: Consensual Somnophilia, piv, unprotected (please don't), daddy kink, use of baby girl, cockwarming (kinda)? (idk what else to write here tbh)

"Channie, can you please just come back to bed, you've been working so hard for so long" you whined laying in your shared bed. Purple LED lights surround each corner of the room. "I'll be there in a second babe, I just have to finish this up first"

You loved Chan from the bottom of your heart, but you were so tired of him constantly working himself to the bone. He didn't know what the definition of a break was and it frustrated you. You were too tired to stay awake, so you decided to just go to sleep.

Chan finally finished his work, excited to watch the movie you had been talking about for days. He thought he was only working for an extra 5 minutes, but the clock read 3:12 a.m. He looked at his bed to see you fast asleep, like a kitten, curled up in a ball wearing only his shirt and your panties.

He loved seeing you like this, so at peace he didn't want to do anything to bother it. He curled up in the bed next to you, ready to fall asleep, but what he heard stopped him in his tracks. You were on his bed, moaning his name in a soft whisper. He was going to lose it, he didn't think he neglected you that much. He's just been so busy with work.

He thought about the last time you guys had sex. It was almost a week ago due to both of your busy schedules. He wanted to make you feel good, and he could already feel his erection growing in his shorts.

You guys have thoroughly talked about having sex while one of you was sleeping in case you really needed to get off and the other was there, so he took advantage of this.

He pulled down your panties whilst kissing your neck. He needed to make you feel good, but also stretch you out well since it had been a while.

You were already wet from the dream you were having, and he was grateful for it, slowly rubbing your clit while rubbing your nipples over his t-shirt. You started whimpering into his ear, and he felt like he could come on the spot. Something about the sounds that you make for him always makes him feel some type of way.

"Fuck y/n, your fucking soaked," he said out loud to no one but himself, "you are thinking about daddy fucking you even while you are sleeping aren't you?"

"Yeah, I bet you are thinking about squeezing your sweet fucking pussy all over my cock. God, let me stretch you out before I put my cock inside you babygirl."

He started using his fingers to stretch you out, starting off with one because you were just so fucking tight. Your eyes started to flutter in and out of consciousness when he started to put the second finger in. He could feel your cunt starting to clench around him, he knew you were going to cum soon, he started playing with your clit again trying to get you to cum on his fingers.

"Fuck baby, just like that, ride daddy's fingers like I know you can." Your moans got a bit louder, but you were still in a deep slumber.

Chan couldn't take it anymore, he needed to bury his cock inside of you before he came from just touching you. He slowly started to push his thick cock inside of you, he could feel your walls clenching and he had only put the tip in.

"God baby, this pussy sucks me in so well. What could I do without my baby, always ready for my dick."

When he finally sheathed inside you, he was in a state of euphoria, he couldn't help but groan out loud. No matter how much he loved to make you cum, he needed to chase his own high now. He needed to cum inside you, fill you up with his cum til he saw it leaking out.

He started thrusting rapidly, not caring if the members woke up with the sound of the headboard smashing against the wall.

As his thrusts started getting sharper, you began to stir awake, "Channie" you asked as you groggily woke up to something feeling so good inside of you.

"Shhhh baby" he tried to silence you, "just take my cock like the good girl you are."

That's exactly what you did, as he continued to rut into you, he shifted a little bit, hitting that spongey spot inside of you.

"Oh fuck" you moaned, "Harder daddy, I'm almost there, please come inside I need your cum so bad, please daddy come inside, need it, need it in me."

You were clenching down so hard on his cock, he wanted you to come together, he needed to creampie you on his cock.

He reached over and started playing with your clit once again to help you get over the edge. "Come on baby, come with me, such a good baby, letting me cum inside of you like the good little baby you are, love taking daddy's cock don't you can't get enough. Have to take it even while you are sleeping that's how much you want it?"

"Yes daddy" you replied, "need your cum, need it in me so bad" that's what sent you both over the edge, him cumming inside you and staying there, not daring to move.

"Was that good sweetheart, don't want daddy to take his cock out of you? Want me to plug you full of my cum til we both fall asleep" he asked groggily.

He waited for a reply, only to see you fall back asleep. He chuckled at this but ended up falling asleep still in you.

#skz x reader #stray kids #straykids x reader #straykids smut #skz smut #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bangchan smut #ju <3 writes

329 notes · View notes

drawlfoy · 3 months

Text

benefits of journaling p.2

read p1 here!

pairing: diary!tom riddle x ravenclaw!reader

summary: you pick up an unassuming journal in diagon alley during an antiques sale without knowing that it's actually a part of a late dark lord's soul. sort of no voldy AU, set in the golden trio era where voldemort was defeated in the first war and thus harry has parents still.

warnings: recreational drug use, language, mild gore, snakes, a mouse gets eaten (thoughts and prayers), tom is a little bit gaslighty, the quality of my writing declines sharply

a/n: note that this is not finished at all, but i'm not planning on finishing this series unfortunately :/ i just have too much going on. this is unedited, unrevised, unoutlined, etc. so adjust your expectations accordingly. i just kind of want to get this out so i've given u guys at least *some* semblance of closure for this series. (UPDATE: now that i’ve written this i’ve changed my mind. i will be working on the next part. i forgot how much i love tom)

wc: 6.7k

enjoy !

This time you were unceremoniously dumped into a hard wooden library chair. You gasped as you braced yourself against the hard table in front of you, drawing in shaky breaths as you gathered your bearings.

A loud bang startled you into wrenching your gaze up. Tom had dropped a thick book with an ebony cover right next to you, nearly atop your hand.

“Here you are,” he said pleasantly. “Happy reading.”

“Do you think I can take this back with me into my world?” you asked. The cover was smooth under your fingertips.

“Unlikely,” said Tom, dropping elegantly into the chair beside you. “You’ll have to read it here.”

You gulped. “Alright.”

The papers were yellowed and fragile against your touch, and you couldn’t help but wonder just how old it was.

“Any section you’d recommend starting with?”

The book was around 700 pages with tiny, fine print.

“Perhaps the beginning.” Tom waved his wand and wordlessly summoned a stack of books, lifting one up and beginning to read for himself.

You’d thought that you’d be less intimidated knowing that he was also doing something besides staring at you reading, but the back of your neck still prickled as you pulled the book to the edge of the table and began to dig in.

It was bizarre, reading next to a boy like this. The only one you ever studied with before had been Ishan, and he hardly counted. It was different with Tom. His presence hung in the air around you, a tension so tangible that it wasn’t unthinkable that you might feel something if you let your fingers sift through the space between you.

Despite all you’d told Tom, spending time around him made you unfathomably nervous. He was too good-looking to feel even remotely normal around him, and it was all you could do to hope that he didn't notice how much you blushed whenever he spoke to you.

The book he’d given you was dense and horrific, detailing magic so ugly and foul that you felt dirty just reading it. It covered topics you’d heard of before, like cases of the Imperius curse or the misuse of love potions or the nature of dark magic.

But there was nothing pertaining to Tom’s situation.

“Can’t you at least point me towards a chapter? Or…a general section of the book?” you asked him.

Tom lifted his gaze from his work, quirking a brow. “Having trouble?”

“This is going to take me forever to read.” You motioned at the width of the book.

“Then I guess I’ll be seeing much more of you.”

You couldn’t fight back the flush that spread across your face. “Well, this is an easily solvable problem. You really ought to just point me to the most relevant part.”

“And here I was, thinking I was doing you a favor,” said Tom. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment you thought you saw the slightest suggestion of a smirk on his lips. “Given that you’re such a glutton for knowledge and not at all singular in your academic pursuits.”

“That’s not—” You paused when you saw the amusement on his face. He’d been playing with you. “I’m flattered that you remembered. I suppose you’re right.”

And since you refused to let him win, you flipped the book back open and picked up right where you left off.

It was really stupid to feel so light at the fact that Tom had remembered a sentence you’d said verbatim, because even if it implied that he’d thought about your last interaction enough to commit it to memory, it was hardly a surprise. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do in his empty version of Hogwarts except read books he’d probably already read many times before.

You snuck another look at him a few chapters later. A few waves had fallen across his face, dangling over his brow. For a moment, all you could do was keep yourself from reaching out to tuck them back into order, to know what it felt like against your fingers.

But that was a boundary you hadn’t crossed yet—if you even could. Who knew how the rules worked in this dimension?

You resolved to believe that you couldn’t touch him. That it was impossible. Because if you believed that, maybe you’d stop wanting to.

“You never ended up telling me if you were a Parselmouth,” you realized aloud after you’d completed another gruesome section about ritualistic Dark Magic.

You watched him closely but didn’t detect even a glimpse of surprise.

“I didn’t,” he agreed smoothly. He didn’t look up from his page.

“So? I gave you a secret. Many, actually.”

“I think you already know.” He turned the page, dark eyes darting across the next.

“Well—” You paused, worrying your lip between your teeth as you realized that he was right. “What’s it like?”

That was what prompted him to finally lean back in his chair and lift his gaze from the book to your eyes.

“What’s it like?”

Repeated back to you, it did sound very silly.

“I mean,” you said, cheeks hot, “What do you even talk to snakes about? The weather? Whether or not there’s enough mice in the area?”

“It’s unlikely to find snakes that do more than listen to me,” he said. “Most aren’t very good conversationalists.”

“A boy in my—our, I guess—year has a pet ball python,” you told him. “I just don’t understand why he’d want one. They don’t seem like very good companions.”

“Why not?”

“Because they have no emotional depth,” you said. You could feel your voice slipping into the tone you used when you tutored younger students, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You’d researched this extensively in the library after the Incident in third year when you were looking for any good academic reason for how terrified you were of Malfoy’s pet. “They have no limbic system, so everything for them is about survival. There’s no—no mutual concern or love like you’d get from something normal, like a cat or an owl. As their handler, you only matter because you’re what keeps them alive. I don’t think I’d ever be able to get over that.”

“So all your companions have to love you?” Tom was resting his chin in his palm now as he looked at you. “They’re worthless otherwise?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” you responded. “But I like my company to see me as something more than an avenue for survival or a means to an end.”

“Their companionship isn’t enough?”

You blinked. Everyone else that you’d given your reptile spiel to had completely understood. You couldn’t quite figure out why Tom wasn’t agreeing. “It’s just nice to be cared about, don’t you think? And it’s…it’s nice to care about something without it feeling meaningless.”

“I imagine that that’s true,” Tom said evenly.

Something deep inside you twisted at the implications of his answer. You’d sort of forgotten that he grew up in a muggle orphanage and likely didn’t have any sort of emotional closeness during his early childhood. But he was so pretty and sharp and witty that it was hard to imagine no one caring for him. Perhaps that had changed upon his admission to Hogwarts. He had said that witches and wizards found him charming. You could attest.

You passed the following Potions lab with flying colors and a perfectly brewed Draught of Peace that made even Snape nod approvingly. It was thrilling. It was incredible. All you wanted to do was get Tom’s diary out right then and there and document it as it happened—as if he were right beside you—but you refrained. You told him that night instead, when you were back again for another reading session.

You were falling into his world on a daily basis, devouring as much of the book as you could without forgoing any conversations with Tom. He’d been impressed to hear about your potion in his own very Tom way. He didn’t tell you outright that he thought that you were brilliant or smart or incredible. Instead he seemed entirely unsurprised, like he thought you capable of nothing less. Somehow that made you glow more than any explicitly stated praise that he could’ve offered.

When you weren’t reading, you were walking around the grounds with Tom and just talking, much like you used to write to him. At first you’d been nervous and uncomfortable with being as open with him in person as you’d been in writing, but Tom had a funny way of making you feel seen. Despite his slight aloofness and obvious air of pretension, he listened to you and appeared genuinely interested in your life by way of remembering things you’d said months ago.

Like when you’d told him off-handedly that it was raining back in the real world and that it was your favorite weather, and ever since the Hogwarts you were transported to was constantly overcast with torrential downpours unless you two were walking outside.

You still never dared to touch him, though. That was a line that you refused to cross. Tom seemed to hold the same opinion, keeping a wide berth around you whenever tactile contact was in the realm of possibility.

“How did you become a Parselmouth?” you asked him one day while you were taking a break from reading and walking through the Transfiguration Courtyard.

His eyes narrowed as he turned to you. “Do they not teach you about Parseltongue in Defense Against the Dark Arts anymore?”

“No,” you said. “I’ve only ever heard about it by reading a book from the Restricted Section. It was very vague. All I know about it is that it’s the language of reptiles.”

“No one becomes a Parselmouth.” Tom turned his attention back to the walking path, adjusting the cuff of his robes for just a second. “All Parselmouths are born. It’s entirely hereditary.”

“So did you have to learn it?” you asked. Your interest was piqued—you’d never heard of a language that was passed through genes.

Tom shook his head. That one rogue strand of black hair had escaped its orderly wave, just like how you remembered him from his yearbook picture. “I’ve never had to think about it. I’ve just always known how to say what I want.”

“Do you think that you could…” Your voice trailed off and you swallowed thickly. You weren’t even sure why you’d started asking him that question. Of course he couldn’t teach you Parseltongue. You didn’t even really want to know it, either. You’d never use it. But you hated being told that you didn’t know something. That you couldn't know something.

“We can give it a try,” he offered.

You dared to glance back up at him and found him already looking at you. “How did you know what I was going to say?”

“I don’t know.” He appeared to be making a valiant effort to quell a grin. “I suppose it has something to do with your approach to acquiring knowledge. One could almost call it…gluttonous in nature.”

You sent him a glare.

Tom shrugged, properly smiling now for the first time in front of you. He had shallow, almost perfectly circular dimples. “Anyway. I’ve never taught anyone before. I actually don’t believe it to be possible, but we might as well give it a go.”

“You’ve never tried?” you asked. “None of your friends at Hogwarts asked you to teach them?”

“No,” he said. “No one knew I was a Parselmouth. I kept that a secret.”

“Why?”

He shrugged again. “I enjoy my privacy. Right, then. Serpensortia.”

A large, hissing snake appeared at your feet, thrashing about in the grass as it unhappily acclimated to its new environment.

You yelped, leaping nearly a foot in the air. Tom simply stood still, watching you with an amused expression on his features.

“Having second thoughts?”

“No,” you said through gritted teeth, refusing to let your eyes move from the wriggling snake in front of you. “I’m just—surprised.”

“It won’t hurt you.” His voice was low, gentle. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not,” you said, but the slight wobble in your tone betrayed you. “Just—get on with the lesson, alright?”

He stood silently, his head tilted in concentration.

“What’s it saying?” you found yourself asking. “Is it—I dunno—threatening my life or something?”

Tom sent you a look that you couldn’t quite decipher. “It’s scared of you.”

“Really?” A spark of smugness lit up within you.

“No.”

“Oh.”

“It’s expressing how upset it is at how suddenly I’ve conjured it. Apparently we’ve interrupted the start of its meal.”

“What do I say if I want to apologize?”

He appeared to consider your request for just a moment before opening his mouth and making a hissing noise that you didn’t think you could replicate if you had a thousand years.

The snake immediately quieted and stopped its thrashing, its tiny head lifting from the ground to regard Tom curiously.

He looked back at you, expectant.

“Again, please,” you said. “A little slower this time. I didn’t quite catch it.”

He obliged, going through each syllable separately.

You felt very much like you were back in muggle school before you’d found out you were a witch, being forced to read out a passage in French. The sounds that came out of you were clumsy and not at all what you thought they’d sound like.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you accused. “For the record, I know it was bad.”

He didn’t address it beyond just the slight upward twist of his lip before he repeated it again, syllable by syllable.

You tried once again with the same outcome.

“Your tongue should be a little behind your teeth,” he said. “You have yours too far back on the roof of your mouth, which is why you’re losing control. Try again.”

This time, it came out much cleaner. The snake took notice of you for the first time, its dark scales glistening under the cloudy sky. It hissed something back. Tom’s mouth split into a grin.

“What did it say?”

“It wants to know if you have any food,” he told you.

“What’s ‘yes’?”

Saying yes in Parseltongue was much easier than saying sorry—it only took two syllables, both of which were made up of sounds that you were pretty sure you had in the English language.

The snake was giving its full attention to you now. Its forked tongue stuck out for just a second.

Gulping, you accioed a small stone into your palm and cast a quick charm to transfigure it into a mouse—something that you’d learned years ago.

You set it on the ground and watched the snake lunge.

“Gross,” you said under your breath, wincing as it began to swallow it whole, its body twisting and contorting as it shoved it down. “I—I think I’m done with the lesson now. I’ve learned enough.”

“You really didn’t need to feed it,” Tom pointed out helpfully.

“Yeah. I know that now. I just felt like it deserved something for the trouble.”

Once the snake had succeeded and the only evidence of the mouse was a bulge in the adder’s scales a little past its head, it lifted its head again to meet your eyes, its tongue slithering out as it made a sharp hiss.

“What’s it saying?”

“It thanked you,” said Tom. He was giving you that look again—like he was reconsidering you.

“And if I wanted to say ‘you’re welcome’?”

“I thought you said you were done with the lesson.”

You rolled your eyes. “Consider this my last request. I’d like to be polite.”

Tom let out a sigh, then made a sound that glided from a long S to a few sharp, pointed consonants.

You clumsily mimicked him, feeling like your tongue was much larger than you’d ever bothered to notice.

To your surprise, the adder slithered towards you, dragging itself onto the rock of the courtyard and in front of you. It coiled around your shin, slowly pulling itself up your body.

“Tom!” you whisper-screamed through your teeth.

“It’s alright,” he said.

“Do something!”

The snake continued up your leg, looping once around your waist as it continued its ascent up to your shoulder. It was cold and oddly heavy, its scales clammy against the bare skin of your neck.

For one terrifying moment, you thought that it was going to coil around your neck and squeeze until you asphyxiated. Your breath caught in your throat as it came around behind your neck, both ends dangling around your neck as you were paralyzed with fear.

Then it did the most peculiar thing; it stopped, just hanging in a loose hold around the base of your neck, its face nestled into the collar of your robes.

“What’s it doing?” you whispered. You tried to ignore the lump in its body that you could feel at the side of your neck.

“It’s resting on you,” said Tom.

“Why?”

“Because it likes you.”

You stared at him, floored. “It does not.”

He hissed something to the snake around your neck. It responded with something you couldn’t even begin to understand.

“It just told me so,” said Tom.

“How do I know you didn’t just make that up?” you said, mentally crossing your arms across your chest but refraining since a snake was taking residence there at present.

“You don’t trust me?” asked Tom. “I’m hurt.”

Before you could respond, you felt the slow, languid movement of the adder as it lifted its head from your collar. Without thinking, you offered it your hand, watching in quiet fascination as it slithered around your wrist.

“Hi,” you said shyly, like you’d speak to a nervous cat.

“It won’t understand—”

“I’m aware, Tom,” you interrupted, sending him a look before turning back to your wrist. “We’re bonding. Bugger off.”

He held his hands up in exasperation. “Bonding? Are you going to take him back to the real world as your familiar?”

For a moment, you actually considered this.

“Because that’s a terrible idea,” continued Tom, crushing your dream right then and there. “Adders are venomous. Once you don’t have me around, you won’t be able to communicate with it. It’ll probably bite someone.”

“Then perhaps we should start brainstorming ways to bring you back,” you said. “For safe snake handling, if nothing else.”

Tom didn’t say anything to this; instead, he reached out and gently unwound the adder from your wrist, his skin not brushing yours once.

“Surely there’s someone wondering where you are,” he said once the snake had been deposited on the ground. “You’ve been here longer than usual.”

“Do you not want to get out of here?” you asked, frowning. “It hardly seems like you’re trying.”

“I’ve been doing research when you’re not around,” he said simply. “I think I just need to theorize for a bit longer—figure out the best course of action.”

“The process would be sped up significantly if you let me help.”

“I won’t ask that of you. It’s very complicated magic—” He paused for just a moment, noticing the derisive curl of your mouth. “—Not that I think you incapable, of course. But you’ve better things to do. It would distract from your exams, and I tend to work better alone in this stage of research.”

“Oh,” you said, hoping the hurt wasn’t showing on your face. It made sense that he would want to work on this alone. You understood not wanting to have to explain things to people when you could already be going down a rabbithole that you’d deemed important. Plus, your current Tom rendez-vous schedule was eating enough time as it was. But it still stung.

“You’ll be the first to know if I stumble across anything conclusive,” said Tom.

You snorted. “Obviously.”

“Well—” Tom stopped himself. You thought for a moment that you detected the slightest flush across his pale skin, but that was likely because of the chill outside. “That was more clever in my head. Sorry.”

“I imagine that being in solitary confinement for half a century might addle your mind a bit,” you offered diplomatically.

“My mind is not addled.”

“I was very graciously giving you an easy out.”

“Someone is probably wondering where you are,” he repeated, his jaw tense. “So I’m going to send you back now.”

Without giving you another chance to argue, you were catapulted back into your desk chair.

“You look like you could do with a night out,” Lucy observed as she watched you storm into your dorm and send your satchel flying through the air to land messily on your bed.

“Casting my first and last Unforgivable on McLaggen would be preferable,” you said through gritted teeth.

He’d been your partner today in Arithmancy to work on a partner problem set. It apparently wasn’t enough for him to be dreadfully stupid and slow—he had to be an absolute chauvinistic arse about it. Whenever you attempted to correct him, he’d look at you with so much amusement that it made your head pound.

He didn’t even need to say anything—the look in his eyes told you that he didn’t even see you as a person.

The last person to treat you so dismissively had been Pansy Parkinson, but at least she’d been smart. And a witch. McLaggen dripped with conceit and smugness and was disgusting towards the most pureblooded witch on a good day.

It’d been nearly 3 hours and your blood was still boiling.

“Well, I can’t arrange that,” said Lucy. “But I can tell you that Hufflepuff is throwing tonight. McLaggen probably won’t come—Ernie hates him, and he’s the one who put it all together.”

You considered this, looking longingly once at the bag on your bed. You hadn’t done anything with your friends in forever; nearly all the time you had was spent either studying or with Tom.

The Hufflepuffs were always gracious hosts, too. The last time you’d gone, they’d given you something to smoke that had smelled like a meadow on a sunny spring day and made you feel like you were floating. You’d giggled all night with Lucy, clinging to one another. You’d gone on some tirade about how much you loved her, touching her face and tearing up as you said something about how you didn’t know what you’d be without her. Lucy’d beamed back at you, her face wide open with raw gratitude.

It had been sappy, but it had been fun and one of the few positive memories you had from the disaster that had been O.W.Ls season.

“You know what,” you said slowly, watching Lucy’s face light up, “I think that’s just what I need.”

Tom could wait.

Lucy squealed and got right to work. In seconds, all the clothes you’d brought from home were strewn across her bed as she scrutinized each one.

“I thought this was just going to be, like, a chill thing,” you said.

Lucy picked up a sequined top, held it up to your chest, and wrinkled her nose. “Too loud.”

“Lucy—”

“I never get to go out with you,” she interrupted, yanking a black slip dress from the pile that caught the warm overhead light. “Thoughts? We could do some fun earrings or something to dress it up.”

“Are we not just going to sit in a circle and smoke again? This feels a little overkill.”

“Well, it’s not,” said Lucy, throwing it at you. “This is hardly a ballgown. Plus, this is your annual outing. Dress to impress.”

You rolled your eyes and slipped the straps off the hanger, throwing it over your shoulder as you turned around to change.

Lucy continued her rampage, ooh-ing and aah-ing upon seeing it on you and immediately cornering you with a scary looking brush.

“For your eyes,” she said, like that made you feel any better.

“What?”

“Close them.”

You squeezed them shut, willing this to be over. You’d had your own experience with muggle makeup, which was tame and not at all exciting. The Wizarding World always had interesting takes on beauty tools, like charmed kohl that could turn your entire eye black if you weren’t careful enough.

Something cool and wet swiped across the corner of your eyes. Lucy mumbled something under her breath, and there was a slight ruffling at the end of your lashes, like a light breeze had swept through them.

“Open.”

You blinked, your lashes feeling a little heavier.

“Pretty,” said Lucy, nodding seriously. “Hang on. Do you have a lip color preference?”

You stared. A lip color preference? “Er—whatever you think makes the most sense with my undertones.”

“You would say that,” Lucy replied, already holding a wand of lip gloss. “Put this on.”

When you turned to look into the mirror she was holding out, you nearly started at your reflection. Lucy had done something insane with your lashes, curling them up and adding length that didn’t look too obvious. That weird tool she’d used on your eye had created a sharp, clean line that followed the contour of your lashline and licked out at the end.

You looked really pretty. Not quite Tom Riddle level pretty, but pretty nonetheless.

“Thanks,” you said, turning back to Lucy after you’d applied the gloss she’d given you. It smelled faintly of something that you couldn’t quite place—like old parchment and the memory of walking through the library in the middle of the night. It was the strangest scent you’d ever encountered in a lip product.

Ernie and the rest of the Hufflepuffs did not disappoint. They’d bribed house elves into bringing an entire spread of food that was fragrant and under a constant stasis spell to keep an optimal temperature. You spent the evening chatting with your Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff friends and feasting on ripe slices of pineapple and bites of strawberry that stained your already glossy mouth a vibrant pink.

Then Hannah Abbott reached into her pocket and pulled out a stash of corked bottles.

“Party Potions,” said Lucy in wonder as you both stared at the swirling liquids.

You’d heard of them before but had never personally had one. You weren’t entirely sure what they did, in all honesty, and that stressed you out enough to keep you from giving them a whirl.

They were different vibrant colors—one an opalescent pink, one a vibrant orange, one a blood red, one a deep, midnight blue that reminded you of your house colors.

“Anyone want one?” asked Hannah, motioning to her pile. Terry Boot raised a hand and plucked the orange one from the table, uncorking it and downing it in one go.

“What do the different colors mean?” you asked. The longer you looked at them, the more you were mesmerized.

“I don’t remember,” admitted Hannah. “Nothing crazy, I don’t think.”

“You don’t think,” you repeated.

“Just because I don’t remember why I bought each color doesn’t mean that I would’ve purposefully bought something that did bad things,” Hannah told you. “Here. Take one. It’ll help you relax.”

The midnight blue potion sat on the fingers of Hannah’s outstretched palm.

“Oh, I couldn’t—”

“I promise it’s nothing too intense,” said Hannah. “You’ve smoked before, right? I’ve had one and it was honestly just like getting crossed. You’ll be fine.”

At the mention of smoking, common sense flew out the window. The last time you’d been offered an illicit substance in the Hufflepuff Common Room, things went really well. Who were you to deny that again?

“If you’re sure it’s alright for me to have it,” you said. The bottle pulled easily from Hannah’s hand and into your grip.

“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” Lucy was grinning at you widely.

Up close, the midnight blue wasn’t solid—there were specks of silver in there, like thousands of stars littered across the night sky. It was stunning. You felt almost bad uncorking it and downing it, but you didn’t give yourself a chance to second-guess.

It tasted like lavender and honey and something burnt that was horribly gross but faded away with time and went down like water.

“You didn’t save anything for me?”

“Sorry, Luce,” you said, swiping the back of your hand across your lips.

You weren’t feeling anything yet. Or were you? Was this how you normally felt? The ceiling of the Hufflepuff common room definitely didn’t move, right? And Lucy typically wasn’t outlined in a fuschia pink. That you were sure of.

“Whoa,” you said dumbly.

“I think Y/N’s feeling something!” called out Hannah. “What’s it like?”

You stared at her, watching as a warm brown that reminded you of English Breakfast tea with milk stirred in surrounded Hannah’s edges.

“You’re such a good person,” you said, feeling tears prick at your eyes, because Hannah Abbott truly was. “And so are you.”

You turned to Lucy, trying your best not to cry. “Did you know that you’re the color pink?”

Lucy nodded gravely. Later she would laugh about this, but not now. “That’s very kind of you.”

You spent the evening in a daze, staring open mouthed at your friends as you saw different colors swirl around, some overlapping and blending.

It was beautiful. Then the sadness kicked in. It wasn’t clear to you exactly what caused your sudden rush of melancholy—but all of a sudden you were staring at the happy people dancing around you, the colors blurring and mingling, and all you could think about was Tom. Tom, who was all alone. Tom, who might never get out. Tom, who was destined for an eternity of loneliness.

“I’m going to go back,” you said to Lucy, tugging at her sleeve to get her attention.

She frowned. “Aw, why? Are you not feeling well?”

“The potion Hannah gave me is making me feel really tired,” you said. It wasn’t a lie. Your eyelids were heavy and the thought of curling up under your blankets sounded better than anything. Well, almost anything. There was something you needed to take care of first.

“Booooo,” said Lucy, rolling her eyes. “Fine. Do you want me to walk you back?”

“No! I mean—” You gulped. “You’re having fun. I’ll be fine getting back. I think Ron’s on the rounds in our part of the castle. He’s not going to write me up.”

“You sure? I’d be happy to take you.”

You started pushing her in the direction of the other party-goers. “Very. Go have fun. I’ll see you when you get back.”

By the time you’d burst back into your room, your chest was heaving with exertion from sprinting up the stairs as you wrenched open your desk drawer and pulled out the journal.

Tom you wrote. Can you let me in?

He didn’t answer; instead, you were falling through space and into the warmly lit Hogwarts library from the 40s.

“Tom!” You couldn’t stop the grin that came across your face.

“Oh—hello.” Like always, Tom was standing tidily a polite distance from you, his hands tucked neatly behind his back. Unlike always, he was staring at you like you’d just shot his dog.

“Is everything okay?” The potion you’d taken was definitely still in effect. An inky blackness was hanging around his shoulders—a stark contrast to the paleness of his skin.

He swallowed, his eyes darting up and down. “Yes. Sorry. You just look a bit different.”

“Oh. Yeah, I was at a party. Did you know you have a black aura?”

“What?”

“Your aura is black,” you repeated, slower this time.

He just stared at you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, averting your eyes. Maybe he was insecure about having such a lame aura color. It had been a bit rude of you to point that out all willy-nilly.

“I’m not—” Tom stopped, pressing his lips together before continuing. “I’m sorry, is there a reason why you asked to see me? Surely you don’t mean to read after you’ve just stepped out of a party?”

“Oh,” you said, and suddenly you remembered why you’d come. A somberness dropped over you. “I was just…I was having so much fun tonight. And then I thought about you.”

He stayed silent.

“What’s going to happen to you if I can’t get you out?” Your voice wobbled as tears pricked at the back of your eyes. “Are you just going to be stuck here forever? Won’t you be lonely?”

When he didn’t immediately answer and opted to stare at you in shock instead, you continued.

“Because I keep thinking about what might happen if something happens to me or I lose your journal,” you confessed, now ardently choking back tears. “I really worry about you. I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t help you leave.”

“Are you…” His eyes darted up and down you again. “Drunk?”

“Hardly,” you said, swiping angrily under your eyes as you collapsed onto the loveseat that you so often read on, pulling your knees to your chest. Then, quieter: “It was just some potion a friend gave me.”

“If you’re so worried about something happening to you so that I’m left alone…” You weren’t looking up at him, but the increase in volume told you he was coming nearer. “...May I suggest not taking mystery potions?”

Before you could issue a retort, the loveseat cushion shifted to accommodate the weight of a second person, sending you toppling over to the other side.

Right onto Tom.

Your hands went flying to the opposite armrest, fingers digging into the worn blue velvet with a death grip as you righted yourself, pushing your knees from where they’d landed sprawled in Tom’s lap.

Which you could actually touch, by the way. The implications began rolling in once you were back on your respective side. He’d been solid and warm and completely void of any attributes that may suggest he was a ghost. Which meant that it was probably possible to…

No. No. You weren’t going to think about that right now.

“I didn’t realize I could touch you,” you heard yourself saying, staring at him in wonder. “I just assumed I couldn’t.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Oh.”

And for purely scientific purposes (no reputable academic came to a firm conclusion based off of a single trial), you reached your hand out and experimentally poked his forearm again.

“Wow,” you said.

“Will you stop that?” said Tom.

“Yes.” You retracted your hand and placed it firmly in your lap. Then, because your manners hadn’t completely abandoned you: “Sorry. That was rude of me. I just sort of assumed that since you’re—well, whatever you are—it’d be like touching a ghost or something.”

“Whatever I am,” he echoed, looking off into the distance with what you could only describe as a very harrowed expression.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, but you weren’t entirely sure what you were apologizing for.

Instead of responding, he buried his face in his hands, heaving a heavy sigh as his fingers tangled into his hair.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

He just shook his head, scrubbing his face with his hands once before he let them fall.

“Er, all right then,” you said. “Would you like me to leave? I’m sorry for bothering you.”

“You really shouldn’t worry about me,” he finally said. The awkward, slight pauses between his words gave you a sneaking suspicion that he was choosing his words very carefully.

“Of course I’m going to worry about you.” Now that you knew that you could touch him, nothing stopped you from reaching out to flick his arm indignantly. “We’re friends, and I like to think that my friends would worry about me if I was stuck in journal jail. Or whatever this is.”

He was still staring at where you’d touched his arm.

“...Unless you don’t want to be friends,” you added, suddenly feeling a little silly for jumping to such rash conclusions. “Which I’d understand. I can give your journal to someone else. A Slytherin, maybe. Someone a little more your speed.”

You decided to blame the potion for the obvious hurt that had seeped into your voice at the prospect that there was someone else who was better suited as his confidant.

“I don’t want you to do that,” Tom eventually said. He wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“Then what do you want?” The strength in your words surprised even you. “I don’t understand you. You tell me you want to get out, but you still won’t let me help you. You let me talk to you and come visit you and read with you, but then you expect me not to care. It doesn’t make any sense. You don’t make any sense.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” said Tom, thumbing the ring he always wore around his finger. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

“So help me understand!” Your voice rose sharply, echoing off the walls of the empty library.

Tom finally turned to you, his face split open with something so uncharacteristically raw and open that it takes everything within you not to gasp.

“No.”

“What?”

“No.” He drew in long breath. “Not right now. I need more time.”

“Oh, a half century wasn’t enough?” you retorted. “Need another?”

“It doesn’t work like that,” said Tom, an edge of franticness in the way he spun the ring around his finger quicker. “I never thought that I’d—I didn’t think I’d ever be found. I wasn’t supposed to be found.”

You didn’t know what to say to this. Instead, you sat there with your hands clasped tightly in your lap, eyes set on the floor, your mind racing with all the implications of everything you’d learned.

A moment passed. Then another. Once it appeared clear that you weren’t going to say anything back, Tom spoke up again. “You’re angry with me. I understand that this is…” He paused. “Unconventional. But I am grateful you’ve found me, and I’d really rather prefer that you don’t give me away to another student.”

You were just about to respond when—

“But of course I’d understand if you did,” he added hastily.

It was the most unnervingly emotional speech you’d ever seen come from Tom, ever the stoic, and under the influence of the potion that Hannah had given you, it was almost enough to make you give in and move on. But not quite.

“You said ‘supposed to’.” Your eyes still didn’t move from where they were trained on the scuffed wooden floor of the library. “You said ‘I wasn’t supposed to be found.’”

“That’s right.”

You turned to look at him, inky black aura spilling over his equally dark hair. “‘Supposed to’. Like you knew this was going to happen. Like this wasn’t an accident.”

And the change you saw in him was so miniscule that if you hadn’t been spending enough time studying his face, you might not have noticed it. But you had, and the slight dilation of his pupils and twitch of his jaw was enough to betray his panic.

Then his mouth split into a smile and his face smoothed over, his eyebrows furrowed with just the right amount of concern. The shift was startling, like he’d slipped on a mask. “Of course this was an accident. Do you really think that I’d choose to be stuck here for eternity?”

“That’s—” You paused, shaking your head. “I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

“I wouldn’t,” he pressed, and this time his arm came up to drape over the back of the couch. You tried your best not to think about how you could feel warmth radiating from it, how if you tilted your head back, you might brush against it. “Are you sure you’re well?”

“I’m fine.”

“I’ll send you back,” he said, a polite smile set on his lips. “You should really get some rest.”

And for the first time since you’d first discovered the journal, you fell asleep feeling a little bit afraid of Tom Riddle.

#tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you

179 notes · View notes

petrichorca · 25 days

Text

Hello, I am slowly figuring out how to use tumblr effectively. I thought I'd give an update on fics I've written in 2024, but keep forgetting to talk about here in a meaningful way.

As We Go Hand in Hand (explicit, gentlebeard, 7100 words) follows Ed as he processes the past few months while living on the island with Stede, massively in love but struggling with himself. I wrote it while feeling a lot of delayed grief around the (confirmed) s2 cancellation, and while it's sad at points it's also quite romantic I think. I really love this story.

Behind Closed Eyes All I See is You (explicit, gentlebeard, 5300 words) is a smutty PWP my dear friend @chaoticturtleturtle invited me to write with her. Stede lets Ed take the lead in a scene with some sensory deprivation, pwp, and aftercare.

like sugar to my heart (mature, gentlebeard, 4200 words) is a silly fic I wrote for my Animorphs OFMD AU co-writer as a birthday gift. Our blue four-legged four-eyed mouthless alien Stedeth gets foiled by a vending machine (based on the tumblr art of the giraffe centaur), and Ed consoles him.

like a bird (teen, gentlebeard, 3700 words) with @ghostalservice gives some backstory about Stedeth's life prior to the events of our 177k fic and features some very cute art of Mary and Stede's children (as Andalites, of course) by @theogem

Stede’s Cursed Red Suit as a Metaphor for Grief and Moving On (teen, stede + izzy, 1717 words) explores the squishy time of season 2, episode 5, and the dynamic between Stede and Izzy in season 2 overall. I am also obsessed with how Stede acts in the cursed suit. I find their s2 relationship really interesting so this is me looking a bit at that via a missing scene starting with Stede yelling OH FUCK OFF.

Calypso’s Dawn (explicit, gentlebeard, 1800 words) centers around how Ed made his boyfriend blush the morning after Calypso's birthday and how Ed feels about it. I love this fic. I've been trying to challenge myself to write more self-contained, shorter stories and this one turned out really well imo.

Life as a Series of Forward Rolls (teen, gentlebeard, 9900 words) features Stede running into his teenhood crush, the gold medalist in men's gymnastics from the 1996 Olympics. This fic also centers around a Barbie doll in Ed Teach's likeness, which @swashbuckling-sweethearts made an INCREDIBLE art of (embedded at the end of the story), inspired by my own 1996 Olympics Barbie. Silly and light modern AU!

Did you mean to do that? (teen, gentlebeard, 700 words) explores Stede's grief around Ed dying, even when he knows Ed is alive. I had no idea I would be so interested in writing missing scenes, but long conversations with friends have really ignited me in exploring these. (The length - I was trying to channel @brigdh, whose ability to write devastatingly brilliant drabbles inspires me, and I'm pleased with this one!)

Perfectly Ordinary Tuesday (mature, gentlebeard, 4900 words) with @ferventrabbit follows Stede and Ed deciding to get married on a perfectly ordinary Tuesday, and drag their inn guest Dave along for the ride. We split up writing the vows, and I balled my eyes out writing mine and then reading em's. This story is fluffy and fun, and it was a great way to start 2024. :)

What's next: I'm working on or noodling a lot of projects, solo and with different collaborators. Imminently, I've got a fic with @veeagainsttheday coming for AUpril on April 1st. Hoping to get something else out in April for @ofmdjanuaury's AUpril 2024 event, which I highly encourage folks to check out - it's for all sorts of creators!

@ghostalservice and I continue to think about our blue alien Stede and his human boyfriend Ed. Wanna Fly Away was such an important project to me while we were writing, and it's become even more special as folks find it. WFA now has art embedded in most of the 15 chapters, so if you haven't seen those check it out. More to come in that space.

Where was I going with this? Well, I suppose I want to say I'm still here. OFMD changed my life, and the OFMD fandom community is deeply important to me. I still hold out hope for a third season, or a follow-up that brings us more closure, but no matter what I'm still thinking about our pirates and will for a long time. If you read this far, thanks for being part of my community. <3

#ofmd #our flag means death #gentlebeard #ofmd fanfic #my fanfic #stede bonnet #edward teach

133 notes · View notes

ataraxiaspainting · 5 months

Text

Shameless.

Yan Chrollo x GN Reader.

Synopsis: Chrollo is many things; annoying, chatty, selfish, petty. Especially petty.

Warnings: Yandere themes and kidnapping.

Word Count: 700.

“Petty, much?”

The damn devil doesn’t even turn to look at you. Instead, he turns to the next chapter of his book, a book large enough to easily force you or any other ordinary person into a yearlong coma if it hits your head. His humming physically hurts your ears and almost makes their drums burst, you are sure of it. You would much rather listen to his trill sonata from a gramophone and disc that is at least five times your age.

You cannot find the stuffed animal you normally sleep with. You have been looking all day while this clone of the antichrist just sits and reads in whatever the hell that language on the dusty cover is. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had made it himself, it’s only further proof that he is just an old man on the inside. Or at least half; the other part may as well be a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Maybe less than half, now that you think about it. That plush was a gift from Chrollo to you, after all, a symbol of how adorable you are or something else in that vein that made his face all the more punchable. The bunny made for a good pillow and could be used as a sort of wall whenever the epitome of hell lays on the bed beside you, trying to converse or cuddle with you.

It certainly yielded better results than biting, kicking, and hitting him at least. Your knuckles and palms still sometimes hurt. Ow. His flesh is made of iron, you know it. Maybe you should dare him to get his DNA tested to ensure that he is indeed human before speaking with you again.

You could fake an allergic reaction to automatons perhaps. Even though you were never a drama kid in school you think you can still pull it off.

You can craft yourself an Emmy using what remains of your old art supplies, though that would require having Chrollo cut the papers and cardboard for you. You bet that if he is a robot, he will eventually use up all his battery by chatting away and then shutting down.

“What are you, a kindergartener?” You move closer to his unholy throne, stomping with each step forward. “Stop acting like you are eight, you swindler, and give it back.”

It would be easier that way if he went unconscious because of his powerless charge.

If you are feeling particularly sadistic you could use electric shocks on his unconscious tin can of a body until it explodes. It would be a great thing, the sound. Like fireworks, if you avoid getting stabbed by tiny slabs of hot metal.

“Kindergarteners are ages five to six.” You could picture dreaming of it now if you can go to sleep tonight. “Eight-year-olds are typically in the grades second and third.”

“So you do admit to stealing it, then. This trial has now concluded, you have been sentenced to life without parole.”

You can hear a slight chuckle that makes you want to fall down the stairs while playing jump rope. Anything to make sure you never hear it again. “You get points for effort, darling. That wasn’t a confession, I was just correcting your utterly adorable libel.”

“Don’t talk like that to your judge, you larcenist.”

“I see you have been reading the books I have given you.”

You grumble a curse under your breath as you walk a bit closer. “It is amazing what the human mind can remember from a dictionary when there is nothing better to do. I think if I ever see my literary teacher again she’d be impressed. I’d pass with flying colors if I ever had to retake her class.”

At the sight of your laid-out hand, a slight frown appears on Chrollo’s face. “Being polite never hurt anyone, you know.”

You scoff and cross your arms, not looking at him anymore. “It hurts me every time I say anything to you instead of trying to find out how to give you enough papercuts to make you internally bleed.”

Underneath the table, you can see the rabbit plush, and crouch down to grab it.

“Take this as an act of precaution then; don’t test my limits, dear.” As soon as you look into his eyes, hugging the stuffed animal, you look away as you see what lies beneath the surface once more.

Nothing.

#yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere #chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer #hxh chrollo #phantom troupe #chrollo hunter x hunter #yandere x reader #yandere hxh x reader #hxh #ideas #author aya

224 notes · View notes

ofmermaidstories · 1 year

Text

there’s something so bittersweet and lovely about fanfic, at it’s core. it’s so impermeable, because it’s so individual. fics don’t get finished. fics get lost because they were typed out and sent to friends, in the 70s, and somewhere along the way someone packed it up in a cardboard box and their kids shuffled it to the attic. websites go down. archives get built, but then people lose faith in the story or the canon or the creator and delete them. you read it at like, 3am, and can’t remember the title months later when you look for it again.

the tiktok these comments are from was lamenting about the loss of a favourite fic—it (the tiktok) had 85k+ likes, and over 700 comments, mostly similar to these. people talking about downloading fics to read on a tablet only for them to disappear the next day. using the wayback machine and combing through results, just to find something they loved. i think it’s sweet because it’s so human—how easily we love something, and how easily we lose it. i used to print out my favourite fics, as a kid—i still have a binder of them, buried under yearbooks and the old journals i kept during those topsy turvy preteen years. i could tell you the overarching plot to a Cardcaptor Sakura fantasy AU i read (and loved; it became my personality for months afterwards) but i can’t remember how it ended, or if it even did. i finally broke down and signed up for an account on AO3 specifically to bookmark an old, old fic that i had read somewhere else, years and years and years ago and found again on AO3 only because i accidentally stumbled on the author here on tumblr (i had only found the fic in the first place all those years ago because of a playlist). i used the same shade of lipstick for years purely because a fic i really liked had the main character apply it (it was a limited edition one at the time; i bought my first one from a ebay seller in the UK at double the retail price, lmao) while the love interest watched them, but i can’t remember the name of it, only how it made me feel (and how, for years afterwards, i would wear that shade whenever i felt like the day had something promising to it).

one of the first anon’s i ever got, in the early days of this tumblr, was someone who asked me if it was okay if they downloaded surrender—and of course it was. of course it is. there was a point, during the final stretch when i was trying to write the last chapter, that i almost lost the entirety of what i had written for that fic—and i mean, it was on AO3 by that stage so it would’ve only set me back a chapter or so, but it goes to show how fragile things can be. how sometimes fics only last in tiny ways—because of the unfinished PDF file someone downloads. The patchy memory of someone’s who’s jumbling it and three other fics together. Because someone wore the same shade of lipstick you mentioned, off-hand, for years afterwards.

(this is a love letter to the silent readers; the silent savers. the lurkers. fandom and the internet at large is made of lurkers (eighty-five thousand likes. seven hundred comments). people who saved fics and waybacked them and will reread them, even uncompleted. telling each other we did a good job, that we liked this or we liked that is wonderful, and fun, and a great (and important) way to build a community and has also given me my current friends—but sometimes something you make will matter and live on in a way you will never, ever know. and it’s just how it is. it’s part of the fun and it’s part of the charm. it’s just how we work as people.)

#floating rubbish island: mermaid spam #shall i do a part two for the opposite end of the spectrum? the readers who tell you as they’re rereading?#the ones that come back to point out details that have stuck with them?#sometimes i worry i don’t give enough to those of us in the community who do that #today i got a comment on surrender and it made my whole day—which otherwise would’ve been spent being miserable trying to sweat out my fever #people are so sweet and i feel so empty-handed for them sometimes #because time is so valuable—people don’t *have* to comment #people don’t *have* to note the tiny details #i share these fics because i *want* to—that is a choice i make knowing that maybe people won’t like it or respond to it #no one asks me to spend the time i do on these fics and so no one owes me for it #which makes the time someone *does* spend commenting or tagging or saying hello even more precious

607 notes · View notes

we-stan-cale · 25 days

Text

I have enjoyed some of the TCF reaction fics, but I feel like there's a major problem.

Namely, that it's really hard for fic writers to stay motivated for over 700+ chapters, so it feels like they all start off strong for the beginning (especially rescuing Raon) and then peter out. We never get to the really good stuff.

Never reach that flashback when Cale reads the letter from the GoD, or see reactions to Choi Han rushing over to see Kim Rok Soo after getting Choi Jung Soo's records. Never have them see the Sealed God's test, and really... Post-apocalyptic Korea horrified Alberu, for good reason. Not that it's explicitly stated, but when is it ever? He had quite the reaction when he was trying to decide what to tell everyone else.

I've had some thoughts on how I would do it, but fair warning - I'm not much of a writer, and will probably never write it. All my respect for the ones that regularly write fanfic because I have like - less than a handful? Maybe, maybe, if I haven't moved on after finishing this reread, I'll try writing it myself.

The other thing is that I've been reading part 2 - only as far as eatapplepies has translated as I find mtl more confusing than helpful - and I'm really liking the Heavenly Demon. He seems to have fallen for our Cale pretty hard, and I'm interested in seeing how that goes.

So I have been playing around with ideas.

First - Dodam is trying to find 'that terrible bastard', and is dragging around his Choi Han.

He reaches Korea. Og!Cale as KRS, specifically. He has his own attribute, one to help him track down Cale, so he can pull up visions/memories related to that.

He pulls up the dream meeting between Cale and KRS.

There are a few team 1 members present, particularly Kim Minh Ah. Cue a bit of chaos, some 'aha' moments, and the long and the short of it is Dodam is going to pull up some of just what they're team leader is up to. (And if Dodam can figure out exactly which world or dimension to to next, and OG! Cale gets the bittersweet ability to see how his deal with the God of Death prevented the destruction he'd lived through, well... That's fine too)

During that brief moment, the Henituse noticed some strange mana fluctuations and managed to get Rosalyn there. She's basically able to tap into the feed and see and hear what's going on.

And divine intervention (like perhaps a god of love) extends the feed to the Heavenly Demon.

What would follow would be an abbreviated version of the key points. Sure, it loses some of the flavor... But we don't actually need, say, the amusing anecdote where an elf mistook Cale for a dragon.

Anyways, the more I thought about it the more I thought about how team 1 would react.

Because the minute they see those monster statues you know they'll all be going 'what the fuck?!?'

They will probably also nod knowingly at some of Cale's more shocking plans. Like hey, there he goes agreeing to help the Mogoru Empire put out the fire he started with the Whipper kingdom.

Nod, nod

Just like he did when they were dealing with that one corrupt guild

And if they ever get as far as seeing the Heavenly Demon, I'm sure one team member will be like 'Is.. is he flirting with Team Leader-nim?!?'

Cue stories where Team Leader Kim Rok Soo avoided a honeypot - except now they're thinking maybe he was just too dense to notice?

#tcf #lcf #trash of the count's family #cale henituse #reaction fic #fic ideas

103 notes · View notes

crow-caller · 1 month

Text

Well, hello!

My phone literally fell to pieces this morning. I can't film videos without it, and rather than repair it's in the long term a good idea to buy a good quality phone. I'm specifically looking at a price of about 700£, with my goal to raise as much as possible and cover the rest.

I feel tremendously awkward asking such a thing, but here I am. If you enjoy my videos and can spare anything, please check out my donation page.

I wish I could raise the money purely through commissions, but I don't want to burn out or further delay future videos. I don't know how much interest there is, but I'm opening limited 'thank you' art commissions (see here for examples), and even more limited writing critique. Exact details below of these below readmore.

These are thank you gifts, not commissions. I can't make hard promises on how much I'll be able to do.

Writing Critique wise:

I'm offering first chapter feedback specifically. I critique books on youtube, sure, but I also have a degree in publishing and creative writing and a Lot of experience. I like to leave a lot of inline comments as I read for the first time to help give you an impression of how a new reader experiences the text- then go over it as a whole and reread. I mostly read SF/F and will be more helpful in that sphere.

This is a lot of work! I can't handle many.

If you donate, leave a note on kofi or contact me if you're interested. I'll add you to a list and randomly select up to three people.

Art wise:

Leave me a note when you donate if you're interested in a thank you doodle. With these you'll get a little drawing like so:

Let me know if you have a preference for more chibi crayon look or clean lineless. I can contact you or you can put your request in a direct message.

These gifts are very much depending on my health and abilities- they're not guaranteed. (I wish I could.) I have NO IDEA how much interest or support I'll get and just can't promise.

#yewchube #i hate doing this I really hate it but my friends suggested it and yes. well. I do need help #I hate hate asking for it but I think everyone does. the instinct is shame to ask. but it's okay to.

72 notes · View notes

theresattrpgforthat · 9 months

Note

Hello! I’ve been following you for a bit now, and all of your recommendations have been super cool and interesting! If you don’t mind me asking, do you have any recommendations for really long indie ttrpgs? One that could match the length of dnd or CoD books, I mean. The specifics don’t matter as much, I just really like sinking my teeth into long game books like that.

THEME: Long Indie Games

Hello friend! Fear not, I have a multitude of long indie games to recommend for you!

Chuubo’s Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine, by Jenna Moran.

Length: 578 pages.

The Chuubo’s Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine RPG is the diceless RPG from Jenna Katerin Moran, author of the well-regarded Nobilis and an important contributor to Eos’ Weapons of the Gods and White Wolf’s Exalted RPG.

Chuubo’s is a special beast. I personally don’t know how one actually plays this game, but the book itself is fascinating to read. It has recognizable parts such as character skills, Health Levels, and XP, but I think I’d want to sit down with a physical copy to be able to properly read it and get a handle on how you play through a story. If you enjoy a challenge, or even just something enchanting and evocative, I’d recommend Chuubo’s.

Part-Time Gods, by Third Eye Games.

Length: 318 pages.

The gods of today are shadows of what the old gods possessed. Their power has been heavily diminished, and many choose to live a regular, mortal life, revealing themselves as gods only when absolutely necessary. The reason for this is twofold. First, fate doesn’t like it when the gods share their secrets with a mortal. Unless they are the god’s worshipper, terrible events and horrific accidents have a way of happening to the people closest to the god. Secondly, divine works attract creatures and monsters called Outsiders, created by the Source (after its capture) to destroy any god they encounter.

This is a game that’s on my TBR shelf - and it might stay there for a while, because this is another pretty lengthy book. I am very grateful for the index at the back of this book, because I think this would be pretty difficult to navigate. Part-Time Gods is set in the modern-day, but the premise behind your god-hood is very unique, so one of the first chapters is dedicated to telling you what exactly it means to be a part-time god, part-time taxpayer. The book also contains small pieces of prose set in the world, meant to give you a flavour of the genre and tone intended by the designer. I’m really interested in the concepts expressed in this game, and I hope I have enough brain space to read it in the future!

We Are All Mad Here, by Shanna Germain.

Length: 226 pages.

Jack climbing the beanstalk. The little mermaid finding her voice. Alice struggling with the madness of a place unruled by the laws of reality. The queen. The child. The woodsman. The knight. When you think about fairy tales, who do you become? Where does your imagination take you?

We Are All Mad Here is a tabletop game about fairytales and mental health, providing you with new options for the Cypher System while also creating a setting about visitors to a magical land called the Heartwood. In the fiction, only those who have had some kind of struggle that affects their mental health are able to travel to this magical land. Germain intends this to be a way to tell a narrative about mental health using allegory and metaphor. The Cypher system itself is pretty complex, and you probably won’t be able to play a game of We Are All Mad Here without the core rulebook, so it might be worth it to take a gander at the Cypher System Rulebook while you’re at it.

Coyote & Crow, by Connor Alexander.

Length: 484 pages.

More than 700 years ago, a massive disaster changed the course of history. The world was plunged into centuries of darkness, but the event also introduced the Adanadi — the Gift — a strange mark that appeared on all life. This mark would have an enduring impact on humanity. Centuries later, the Earth is healing. New, advanced nations have risen. Ancient legends stir.

Coyote & Crow is a pretty extensive and unique game, using pools of d12s pulled from your stats, as well as narrative beats such as character motivation, Gifts and Burdens to help give your character a personality. Because it introduces an alternate history and a drastically different future, the core book as a decent amount of lore to acquaint you with the city of Cahokia and the world that surrounds it.

This game has quite a bit of support out there, with adventures such as Stolen Heart, Laughter Lost & Found, and The Case of the Great Underwater Panther.

Impulse Drive, by Adrian Thoen.

Length: 242 pages.

Play a crew of misfits and scoundrels living a life of danger and adventure as they explore space and try to make their ship a home in a technicolor sea of stars. Fight dangerous organizations, investigate unnerving mysteries, and find trouble in a game that rewards you when your characters face their shortcomings. Grow your characters and ship with new gear and abilities as you discover and create the universe together, as a group.

For a PbtA game, Impulse Drive feels pretty substantial. It provides a quick primer on Powered by the Apocalypse games, and includes advice for the players as well as the GM. This might be because the game includes a lot of details about gear and vehicles, as this is a space game that cares what your party has on hand and what their ship can do. There’s also advice on changing the game, extra moves, and a roll table for mutations! If you’re looking to see how to play out a space adventure in a more narrative-focused system, you might want to check out this game!

The Shrike, by Alice the Candle.

Length: 162 pages.

The Shrike is a game about fantastical voyages aboard a skyship. It's inspired by Avery Alder's The Quiet Year, John Harper's Lady Blackbird, Italo Calvino, Ursula K. Le Guin, and utopian and dystopian fiction. It features four complete adventures (two multiplayer, two for solo play).

This indie game is on the short side of this list, but it’s definitely long by indie standards. The author has provided 4 different adventures that you can read through, which will likely spark your imagination along the way. Interestingly, the voyages are placed in the first half of the book, while the information about Solo, Co-operative. and Guided Play embody the second half of the book. I’m not sure how I feel about this layout choice, but if you’re mostly looking for a book that you can read, flipping through the voyages might be more interesting to you than the rules of play.

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

Lancer, by Massif Press. 431 pages.

The Wildsea, by Felix Isaacs. 364 pages.

Exceptionals, by Sahoni. 253 pages.

Gubat Banwa, by makpatatag. 399 pages.

Monster Care Squad, by Sandy Pug Games. 176 pages.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #dnd #asks #game recommendations #long games

171 notes · View notes

deathbecomesthem · 2 months

Text

The Printer

A My So-Called Hawkins Diary Entry. (actually, 2 entries)

~700 words | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader MSCL AU

Monday:

50 minutes. That’s how long the study session between me and Eddie lasted. I can’t be sure, but I think the first 5 minutes we sat with our desks facing each other, I stopped breathing. I could see his lips moving, he was talking to me, but my ears were ringing. I don’t think I’ve ever actually talked to him before this morning, not for real. It was like I forgot how to be a person for a minute, like my brain decided to shut down or something.

It was the way his eyes were looking at the left corner of my desk that snapped me out of it. That and the finger tapping. He was nervous too, for whatever reason, and his brain was just throwing out words for him to say instead of shutting down. It was a feeling that I needed to help him relax, help him pass this exam, that made the gears start turning again.

I interrupted his rambling, something about mnemonic devices as a study aid, and suggested we start working down the list of vocabulary words at the end of each chapter to gauge what we need to focus on. And then he looked at me and smiled. I don’t think I’ve seen him smile like that before. He turned his head to the side, kinda shy like. His hair (still damp this morning) touched the corner of his mouth. I would do anything to see him smile at me like that again. I would give anything to be that little curl touching his lip.

Eddie’s lips are actually perfect, and the way he says, “deontology” set my skin on fire. How does he do that? Make the most ordinary things so much more. I think if I could feel his breath on my skin while he recited names from the phone book, I would evaporate. Cease to exist. For the first time ever, I want to thank Mrs. O’Donnell. Thank you, you old hag, I got to study Eddie for 50 minutes.

–

Tuesday:

A miracle happened today. We all got to school at the normal ungodly hour, ready to take that torture session called Mrs. O’Donnell’s midterm exam, and god decided to bless us. The old biddy came in looking ready to spit nails, which is pretty normal for her. But instead of handing out packets of papers, she shook her head and stood in front of her desk empty handed.

The copier ate the exam when she went to print them. I saw Eddie’s shoulders drop in relief at the news, even with Mrs. O’Donnell glaring at him. I swear, she’d blame him if she could. She hates him so much. Instead of taking the exam, we all had to sit in silence and read the next chapter of the textbook. We’ll have an extra 5 days to study for the exam since it’s a long weekend.

And that’s the best part. The studying. Because EDDIE’S COMING OVER TO MY HOUSE IN ONE HOUR TO STUDY WITH ME. He actually asked if I would mind him coming over. (and he fucking smiled like that again.) I told him, sure, that’s a good idea to get more study time in. But what am I going to do? He’ll be here in an hour. ONE HOUR. An hour. One. Hour. Do I make a snack? Do I order pizza? My parents are, mercifully, gone for the night. It’s date night (barf). Mom left $20 on the counter, so I guess I’ll order a pizza, but what kind? Does he like pepperoni? Of course he does, everyone likes pepperoni. Nero’s or Johny’s? Should I get a soda? Pepsi or Mountain Dew? Oh my god, do we study in the dining room or MY ROOM?

This is so stupid, I’m freaking out. I need to put some makeup on, but like in a way he won’t be able to notice. What if I kiss him accidentally because his lips say, “deontology”? I need to be sedated.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #mscl au #eddie munson au #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson series

55 notes · View notes

chrissturnsgirlll222 · 2 months

Text

second, never first

part four | part one | part two | part three

chris x fem!reader

summary - you grew up hating one guy all of high school but suddenly become close friends, but as time goes on feelings develop, only its one sided.

warnings - mentions of underage drinking, throwing up, swearing, use of y/n, BOYS (no smut… for now lol)

word count - 700+

falling for your best friend is not the easiest thing in the world. especially not when he is an annoying ego boosted guy that often hooks up with every girl you know.

the fact that chris was always talking to two or more of my close friends was the one thing that always made me feel like shit. its hard seeing the person you have feelings for not be into you.

this whole thing is particularly difficult when im sitting in his room at his desk helping him with school work, alone.

“just read through these little booklets she gave us, they really helped me with the last chapter and most of this information was on the test.” i say.

he smiles and grabs the booklets out of his bag and they are all crumbled up from being stuffed in his bag.

“what about these question sheets she gave us last week do i need to finish them?” he questions.

“no their not for marks but honestly you should do them, they really help you understand the material.” i say

“i really would rather not.” he says leaning back.

“how about we do them together would that help you do it.” i say smiling.

“sounds like a deal.”

and hour or two passes and we finally finish up studying.

every time he got a question right he high-fived me. it was really fun to be honest i loved hanging out with chris he always knew how to keep me entertained.

“why have you never been in a relationship?” chris asks

i was taken aback by this question as he never acknowledged my dating life before and we were completely silent just sitting in his room on our phones.

“why?” i question

“well like i never see you or anyone talking about you being in a relationship so i just guessed you never had one i guess.”

i sat up and shut my phone off. “well i dont really know i never talked to any boys before, i guess the opportunity never came to me” i reply.

“thats strange.” he says starring at me.

“why is that strange.” i mumble.

“your almost finished high school and have never talked to a single guy, ever.” he states

“why do you make it sound like im a freak.” i say getting annoyed.

“im not trying to make you feel bad its just i dont understand why you never put yourself out there. you have to put yourself out there.”he breathes

i just stay silent thinking about his words.

put myself out there.

what the fuck does that mean. does he not know that i am internally screaming at myself after every glance or conversation we have. that i am constantly jealous of his choice in girls. that i am falling harder and harder for him every passing minute we spend together.

he shifts in his spot on his bed and sits up.

“ok how about this.” he says putting his hands on my shoulders. “how about i get you a boyfriend or fuck buddy or whatever you want and you help me get with anna.” he says

anna.

of course thats what this is about. remember when i said that if me him and anna were the only people alive he would choose her over me any day. yeah this is exactly what i mean.

“what are you talking about.” i say.

“i mean i would get someone to get with you, i mean any girl just wants male attention. i can help you get it from someone but you know eye for an eye policy.” he says removing his hands from my shoulders and sitting back.

i think for a second. would i really want to set him up with my best friend, the guy i think about every second of everyday?

“deal.”

“actually?” he says shooting up.

i know i may seem insane but if i said no i would have to live knowing that chris likes anna and just be uncomfortable with that thought. atleast maybe this way i will have someone of my own to distract me from the fact that chris is with anna. right?

“yeah, deal.” i say sticking my hand out for a shake.

he does the same and i smile uncomfortably.

either i just made a deal to help me get over chris, or i just signed my death sentence.

thank you for reading xx

taglist: @sleepysturnss @blahbel668

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

109 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs