#a tad bit inspired by beau

[autumnslance]

This is a very silly ask (and feel free to ignore it completely), but do you think any of your OCs would be friends with characters from other franchises? (Fun fact, this was inspired by a piece of fanart that made me believe that Thancred and Leon Kennedy of Resident Evil fame would absolutely be friends. Or at least drinking buddies.)

Hrm, I don't often think in terms of crossovers and mashups anymore--which is funny, as one of my earliest online RP experiences was a multiverse setting where OCs from any and all settings--franchise, gaming, original, etc--could co-exist. Normal mortals teaming up with demigods from novel series and mega-damage users from RIFTS and an array of fantasy and sci-fi and horror characters in between.

I sometimes think about how my OCs in various settings would interact together; how my WoW OCs would get along, or not, with the FF14 crew, or the FF14 OCs with my D&D characters. I tend to lean into certain archetypes (bards and paladins/clerics/priests are favorites), so there'd be some overlap and things in common, and also some frustrations at similarities that grate and clash.

So I don't think too much about how they'd interact with canon figures from other settings, but any OCs I'd have in that realm instead.

Well, the adventuring parties of Actual Play shows like Critical Role (and its animated series spinoffs) is pretty easy; Vox Machina, the Mighty Nein, and Bells Hells are all as chaotic and as helpful as adventurers tend to be, for good or bad. So there'd be eye rolling and irritation, but also understanding and diving in alongside, forming friendships with the weirdos cuz well, adventurers are Like That. They're RP characters too though so might be cheating, or at least easier to figure out for me.

Vax has that sort of noble rogue energy that'd make Aeryn fond of him, while Vex would initially drive her up a wall until they reached an understanding. Scanlan's annoy the heck out of her until they got to sit down and talk for real and she saw under the vulgar exterior. Percy'd be tolerated as Insufferable Noble Trying Too Hard. She'd be patient with Grog and enjoy his overlarge childish glee at everything. And who doesn't love Pike? Literal angel with a chaotic bent herself, she adds a bit of calm when not engaging in sibling shenanigans with Grog. I think Aeryn'd relate most to Keyleth, funnily, and they'd get along decently. Tary, too, would get a lot of sympathy concerning expectations, and also nerding around with his crafts, and may make dealing with Percy a tad easier.

Of the Nein, Caduceus is a spot of calm, aroace energy. Not as right as he thinks he is about many things, but he means well and tries, and that counts for a lot. Aeryn'd have tea with him any day. She'd also be drawn to Beau's bravado and brashness and they'd get into trouble together. Same with Fjord and Caleb, really; there's a level of familiarity in how they approach things with 'let's poke it and see what happens' but also the care they have for others in general. Same with Yasha. Jester's a bright light ball of energy and oh gods her and C'oretta in the same space would be exhausting. Nott/Veth is a bit more complicated; probably depends on when in the campaign, is it before or after Veth's reunited with her family, as she undergoes a shift emotionally once she has her original self back as well as her husband and son. Molly would aggravate and charm Aeryn by turns; Kingsley she'd be sympathetic to and understand too well that living in another's shadow aspect. Essek is fine; he's a wizard to talk shop with, learn from, mess around with spellwork. Luc is a brat also in the shadow of his accomplished mom and adventuring family, and needs mentoring and guidance and a lot of patience oh gosh.

A lot of the Hells would honestly be irritating, especially Imogen's propensity to just use telepathy intrusively; girl needs a lesson in why you don't want to poke around uninvited or casually to get your answers, and a WoL's head is wilder than most. FCG needs mentoring and guidance like whoa. Fearne's also an agent of energetic chaos; fun in doses. Laudna's not so scary, very sweet and fun and sad and likely needs help she doesn't know how to ask for. Ashton's grating in his arrogance and rebelliousness for rebellion's sake (though that may shift given recent things...). Chetney's surface attitude would be annoying, but soon enough he'd be a safe and calming point, given his perceptions. Orym's also just calming and reasonable; maybe a little too much sometimes, and needs to be reminded to cut loose now and then, it's good for you (and your friends).

Dark rolls with it all; she's very easy to get along with. Iyna wouldn't be able to stand most of them. C'oretta would get along well with most everyone but lord her and Jester and/or Fearne in the same place...Terrifying!

That's one off the top of my head, after a long holiday weekend thinking about it off and on, anyway!

#final fantasy xiv #lyn prompts #characters #crossovers #aeryn prompts #dark prompts #punchy prompts #iyna prompts

[saoirseuwu]

Me and @nataissalty as randomized miraculous holders

#dumbasticart #miraculous ladybug #the random number generator nailed the fox for me perfectly #:'D #and not gonnal lie #i fucking love the monkey outfit #a tad bit inspired by beau #but it just looks so cool #and not just 'latex on hero' #idk #i like how it came out #and i made the fox outfit pink last minute #cuz it fit more with my colours

[ficsyoumayhavemissed]

Bloom (just for you) — Only_angel_28, @beau-soleil-louis

495 words / One-Shot / Harry Styles x Louis Tomlinson

“Do you ever think about boys?”

The words fall from Louis’ lips casually, but they’re fragile like a gossamer thread, a single silken strand from a spider’s web of labyrinthine thoughts. They’re the product of literal months of careful introspection, of soul-searching and agonizing and over-thinking. They’re words that he’s never dared to utter aloud, a mirror of his own swirling inner-turmoil of thoughts. Thoughts he previously held tightly to his chest, locked away in his heart along with all his other feelings regarding his best friend.

*Or the arrival of spring brings a new beginning for Harry and Louis.

The best and worst thing about this fic is how short it is. It’s so perfectly sized to sprinkle in your day that it takes no time at all to read, but it’s so beautifully written that you never want it to end. Please, take those 3 minutes for yourself and read this perfect snapshot of a single moment in an alternative Universe, where spring has just begun and with it brings a budding young love.

please forgive me if my lips quake — @disgruntledkittenface

1.622 words / One-Shot / Harry Styles x Louis Tomlinson

Hi ! Got your number from your cat Lou. Just want to make sure they’re not lost, only visiting Harry’s pet cat wing-womans her into a date.

A very sweet meet-cute featuring a cat that may or may not purposefully wander into the garden of somebody who’s perfect for her owner. A fantastic read to sprinkle into your day whenever you need five quick minutes of escape.

Raise My Body Back To Life — @fallinglikethis

1.893 words / One-Shot / Harry Styles x Louis Tomlinson

“You sure about this?” Harry asks one last time, looking over his shoulder at the young blonde standing there. She’d come to his office earlier in the night and nearly interrupted Harry’s meeting about a case he’s working on with the Chief of Police in her haste to get her brother back. Luckily, his assistant, Niall had held her off until he was done. “Death changes people sometimes. He’ll remember it. All of it. Dying, how it felt. If it hurt. You’re positive you want to put him through that?”

“I don’t,” she says, wringing her hands and biting her lip to stop it trembling, “but I have to.”

Harry stares, taking her in. Her eyes shine with unshed tears but she’s standing tall, certain. Harry nods once and turns back around to face the body lying on the metal slab before him. His name is Louis Tomlinson and, as he rolls up his sleeves, Harry Idly notices how gorgeous he was. Is. He hopes this isn’t going to traumatize Louis.

Inspired by Kill My Mind.

A very interesting take on what story Kill My Mind might tell. This fic has everything you need: twists, action and sweet moments! And all that in under 2k words!

The Five God Cure for One Anxious Heartbeat — @homosociallyyours

11.248 words / One-Shot / OT5

When OT5 decides to sneak into a music festival to have a bit of fun and maybe make a few people fall in love, they expect things to go relatively smoothly. Fate has other plans.

Or: Niall, Louis, Harry, Liam, and Zayn are just five lesser Greek gods out there trying to have a good time, and they’re feeling so attacked right now.

How have more people not read this delightful romp? We all know that if OT5 banded together to use their powers for good, it would change the world. Now we have proof in writing. Created for the 1DRidicFic, it is crazy and sweet and funny in all the right ways.

Don’t Like The Backseat — sailingonstars, @anchorsship​

14.252 words /  / Harry Styles x Louis Tomlinson

The one where it’s the year 3019 and Louis runs away to join a circus in which Harry is a trapeze artist.

This fic was written for the ridiculous fic exchange and it is exactly that: a tad bit ridiculous. But it’s also interesting and sweet and filled with great characters!

Death In Paradise — zooropey

15.236 words / One-Shot / OT5

An angry or agitated Commissioner strolling into the Police House was definitely not unusual but this time Jack was wracking his mind to think what he might have done wrong!

“DI Mooney” the Commissioner bellowed in greeting “I need your assistance up at the High Point Resort. It’s a somewhat delicate matter”. ************** Jack Mooney and his team are called to the exclusive High Point Resort when Ben Cardell, music industry mogul and face of “Find Me a Star” is discovered murdered. The band with whom he was holidaying turn out to all have motives, and they have a reputation as fiery self absorbed divas. However DI Mooney soon figures out that things aren’t always what you expect.

You don’t have to be a fan of Death in Paradise to appreciate the story line, but it’s the way OT5 are written that makes this such a good read. If you are a fan of the show you’ll be able to picture it, complete with all the usual characters.

—–

We’ve changed our submission guidelines to include fics up to 1.250 hits! – FYMHM xx

#may 2020 #fic rec #fymhm

[hotoffthepressfics]

Broke But Not Broken: Chapter 6

MASTERLIST

Part VI

Previous | Next

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 3,220

Summary: The job search proves harder than you thought. Nightmares keep you awake. When the dam of emotions finally breaks who will be there to comfort you?

Warnings: Angst, past violence, mentions of abuse/sexual abuse

Inspiration/Chapter Soundtrack:

“Skin” - Alexz Johnson

“The In - Between (Piano Solo)” - Evanescence

“A Haunted House (Fireside Tales) - The Grey Orchestra

��Everything Has Changed” - Taylor Swift [feat. Ed Sheeran]

A/N: I’ve been dying to write this part! I may or may not have discovered that I probably have a bit of a hand fetish after writing this as well… Please Enjoy!

The city street bustles around you as you slump dejectedly on the bus stop bench. You’d been out every day searching for work since you’d opened your mailbox to find the plain white envelope containing your new social security card.

You had been elated initially, unable to wait to begin your job hunt. However, if you thought the matter of your identification would cause you issues, your references were another matter entirely.

CiCi and Tía were kind enough to let you use them as personal references. You’d even mustered up the guts to approach Bucky and ask him, but even with those it didn’t seem to be enough.

A month had now passed since you started this venture and you were beginning to feel edgy and desperate again. You couldn’t rely on everyone’s generosity forever. You needed to stand on your own two feet. The sunlight begins to dim. It was getting late. Reluctantly you get up and trudge home.

Lost in a reverie while climbing up the stairs to your apartment building, you almost didn't notice CiCi and a large man with ebony-colored skin and close cropped hair coming out of the door.  

“…ello?... Helllllo sugar!” You jump back, startled, as CiCi waves her hand in front of your face.

“Oh!... Sorry Cees, I was just thinking.” You timidly step back to allow CiCi and her beau to come out fully. Damien wiggles his fingers at you in greeting. You flick your eyes up briefly to him and raise your hand in reply.  

Damien was a really nice person, though the bulk of him could suggest otherwise. There was no real reason for your fear or shyness around him, other than the simple fact that experience taught you to present yourself as meek and submissive to any males in your presence.  

CiCi loops her arm through Damien’s, the sleek cream colored slacks and blazer complimenting her dark skin beautifully.

“That’s alright baby, how’d the job hunt go?” She asks.

You keep your eyes trained on the ground, scuffing the concrete step with the toe of your shoe. Your silence was answer enough. CiCi sighs sympathetically.

“Oh Sug. Well hey, no sweat! The right one just hasn’t popped up yet. We just have to prove to one employer that you’ve got the gumption to do the job. We’ll get there baby, don’t lose hope.” She and Damien came down to the step you stood on. She pats your shoulder in comfort.

“Yeah. Ya just gotta find what you’re good at and sell it.” Damien offers.

You smile softly, lifting your head to meet their gazes. Your nerve apparently never got the memo and you settle on staring at a point behind the two of them. “Yes. I’ll keep searching. I’m not giving up.”

CiCi cups your chin and gently pulls your attention to her. You stare into her face.  

“Remember,” She gives your face a slight shake, “this is your time. You deserve a victory. No more cowering.”  Her intense stare pins you to the spot, her words seeping into you. You swallow and nod again, unable to say anything.

She smiles and releases her hold on your chin, seemingly satisfied that she got her point across. “Good. Now, why don’t you come out with us tonight? We can wait for you to change, and it might be good for you to get your mind off this job search of yours?”  

Before the invitation has completely left CiCi’s mouth you shake your head vehemently. Going out and searching for a job was one thing; heading out and exposing yourself to more people than was necessary was a different matter altogether.

“No, thank you CiCi. I’m… just too tired tonight… I’m gonna head up and turn in.” You begin your retreat to the entryway. She shrugs and allows Damien to haul her down the rest of the way to the walkway.

“Alright, just know that the invite stands any time you wanna come out!” She calls as they disappear down the street. You wave a farewell and let yourself in.

A trip up the elevator, a quick turn of the lock to your apartment, and you were in your safe haven. You let out a sigh and kick off your shoes. The day’s disappointments and fatigue are already weighing you down. A quick meal, a shower, and you are ready to sleep. You flip off the bedroom lights and curl into your blankets to drift away.

•••

Colton slams the front door shut. The pictures and décor rattle on the wall. You jump, the music you’re playing faltering briefly before you resume your playing.

It was best to ignore him when he was in this state. To wait out the storm of his fury. You never knew what set him off; probably because it was a day that ended in ‘y’. You resolve to just stay out of his way.

You focus on the music you’re creating as Colton continues rioting through the apartment.  

“Would you knock it off with that god awful shit?!”  

Suddenly one of your textbooks crashes into the wall above your piano. You stop playing. Stiffly you turn to face him, keeping your hands in your lap and making sure your head is bowed low. He’s standing in the entry to the hallway, his stance menacing.

“Who is he?” He asks in a deathly quiet tone.

Your eyebrows knit together, confusion stirring in your mind. You carefully look up at him.  

“Wh…who?” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

His fist crashes against the wall and you jump again.

“Don’t play dumb, bitch! I saw you talking to him in the Commons!”  

You quickly scan through your recollection of the day, trying to discern who Colton could be talking about. You were taking too long because Colton abruptly growls and in two strides he’s behind you. He threads his fingers through your hair and yanks your head back to look at him, shouting obscenities in your face. You yelp and try to grapple out of his hold. It does nothing.

“He’s not anybody! He’s just a guy from class! He – he needed the notes that he missed and I gave them to him!” You cry, a hiccup escaping in the middle of your sentence.

“Please let go – he is nobody… you’re hurting me…please…” you beg.  

Done with his tirade Colton huffs and releases his hold with a small shove, propelling you forward against the piano keys. A few jarring notes sound from it. He stomps off to the bedroom. A loud bang announcing the closing door.

Shuddering breaths rattle their way passed your lips. You slowly slide away from the piano and reach for your now ripped and broken textbook, dropping it a few times before you get a good grip on it. Your terror made you clumsy. You didn’t want to incite more ire from Colton.

For a half hour you creep around the apartment trying not to make a sound, but it appeared that Colton would remain locked in the bedroom. After picking up a few more things he’d knocked over in his rampage you tiptoe back to the piano and slip back under the keys. You had a recital coming up, you needed to keep practicing.

Timidly you press the keys, slowly building the music back up. The soothing tune washes over you, smoothing back down your frayed emotions. You get so caught up in the music you don’t hear the creak as the bedroom door opens.

•••

You gasp for air as consciousness pulls you out of the nightmare. Sweat makes your night clothes stick awkwardly. As your brain begins to come down from its panic you feel painful tingles traveling up from your right hand. You lift it, carefully stretching out the numbness. The blood flows back to your fingers, the prickles feeling odd and a tad painful. You must have fallen asleep on it weird.

Rolling over you bury your face into your pillows, trying to fall back to sleep. Even though your mind had calmed it was now alert and racing. There would be no more sleep tonight. A sudden burst of irritation ripples through you. You scream into the pillow. These nightmares had been happening on and off since you’d escaped and found refuge here. Colton was miles away with no idea where you were, and yet he still robbed you. He robbed you of your confidence, your talents, and now your sleep. Not to mention that your search for employment was hampered because of him as well.  

You sit up and angrily kick the blankets wrapped around your legs off. If you couldn’t sleep you might as well do something productive. You get up and throw on your gray sweater. The woolen fabric had become a sort of security blanket since you got it.  

Gathering all your discarded, dirty clothes from the closet floor you make your way to the front door. Just before exiting your apartment you snag a roll of quarters from the kitchen counter.

Down in the laundry room you throw in a load and turn on the washer. As the machine begins it’s noisy whirl, you anxiously tap your fingers against the metal. Now what were you to do while you waited?  

You pivot around and lean into the machine, inspecting your surroundings. Once again your eyes zero in on the piano. You’d been avoiding it like the plague since you had first spotted it. Where once the instrument had brought you peace and comfort, the last couple years playing had brought nothing but sorrow.

Whether it was Damien’s words echoing in your head or the lack of sleep and aggravation you weren’t sure, but you hesitantly made your way to the piano. You let your fingers glide lightly across the keys. After a long moment you drag the bench out from underneath and slide onto it.

Testing the keys you play a few halting notes. You pause letting the last notes resound. You repeat the same notes, this time a little faster. The song continues, your fingers moving along the keys, and just like that your reservations fall away. You close your eyes and let the music build up to a crescendo, adding layers to your initial refrain.

All your emotional disquiet bleeds away as you continue.  The musical interlude dwindles down. You stare silently down at your fingers, reveling in the initial peace the moment brought you.

“I thought you said you couldn’t play?”

You start, hands clamping down on the piano keys with a roaring clang on the strings. You spin around to see Bucky wince at the discordant melody. Your brain reminds you to breathe again.

“God, don’t do that!” You gripe at him collapsing onto the bench.  

“Sorry… I was just surprised… are you crying?”  

You’re made aware of a cooling sensation tingling down your face. You reach up and brush your cheek, surprised when it comes away wet. You swipe at your eyes.

Bucky pushes off the dryer he’d been leaning on and comes to kneel next to the bench. You turn away slightly, using your sweater sleeve to dab at your eyes one more time before answering softly, “I’m fine.”

He remains silent, his hands resting on the edge of the bench supporting his weight. After a moment he stands up.

“Move over.” He gently taps your thigh and you instinctively scoot away. He glides onto the bench. While you make a pointed effort to not to look at him, Bucky hunches over the keys to watch your face. Silence settles in.

“So… was that just a fluke or can you really play?”  

“I never said I couldn’t play.” You snap, feeling a little too vulnerable to politely deal with his constant needling. You cringe a little, fearful he’d get angry for your outburst.

“Oh, no? It’s funny, I recall asking if you played and you saying no…” Bucky left his statement dangling as he lifted a finger to his chin in mock thoughtfulness, hardly phased by your sudden temper. It seemed he was too mild-mannered to react.

You relax a bit, give him a sidelong glance and run a finger against the keys.  

“…I just meant ‘no, I didn’t want to play’ not ‘no, I can’t play’…” you elaborate.

“Ah. So… you lied?”

Your head swivels to glare at him. “I did not lie.” You defend yourself.  

“A lie by omission is still a lie.” He responds in a sort of sing-song voice.

You aren’t sure what possesses you. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation. Or perhaps that it sounded a lot like what your mother would have said. Whatever it was, your comeback to his statement is to scrunch up your nose and stick your tongue out.

A bark of laughter rumbles from Bucky’s chest. It sends a tiny thrill through you.  

“Very cute, rabbit.” A lazy smile forms on his lips.

You blush and look away, back down to your clasped hands in your lap. For a few minutes the only sound is the whirring of the washing machine.  

“Do… you want to talk about it?” Bucky asks gently.

No, you didn’t. The mere thought of trying to speak about what happened made your throat swell. Shaking your head you take a deep breath, holding it in. Another beat of silence passes.

“Maybe you could play it instead?” He persuades.

You lift your head to stare at him quizzically, not quite understanding his meaning. Bucky shrugs.

“It just seemed like you were playing your feelings before. Maybe you could play a song about how your feeling now?”

It wasn’t a terrible idea, you muse. You had come down here to shake off the demons clawing at your back. For the first time in a long time you had the opportunity to play for yourself instead of a man bent on destroying every piece of you. As you move to the center of the keys Bucky slides to the edge of the bench to give you space.

He patiently waits while you run through a few scales. Then the music begins.

The deep tones awake memories you’d long suppressed to survive. They play through your mind’s eye. Your mother’s illness and subsequent death. Meeting Colton and his insistence on dating. The first time he hit you. The first time he forced you.

Your fingers fly over the keys. The music almost deafening. The moment he shattered the bones in your hand. When he took you to that party…

You abruptly stop playing, clamping your hands around your head, trying to stem the flow of images racing around. A sharp keening escapes you as you curl around the keyboard. You’re vaguely aware when Bucky wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. You don’t resist, too tired and distraught to care.

Bucky rubs soothing circles against your back murmuring soft reassurances. You burrow your face into the side of his neck and continue to weep.

Eventually your sobbing subsides. Your shuddering breaths even out. You breathe deeply, taking in Bucky’s scent. He smells clean, woody, calming.

Suddenly a loud buzzing sounds. The washing machine just finished its cycle. You jump, pulling back against Bucky’s arms. He releases you as you scoot away and out from the bench to retrieve your laundry.  

Embarrassment from your frantic crying blooms across your cheeks and you are glad for the distraction. As you switch the clothing over to the dryer you surreptitiously dab at your eyes, aware that Bucky might be quietly observing you.  

You move slowly, knowing that when you are done you’d have to face him again. After carefully tossing the clothes in, counting out the quarters, and closing the machine to start you reluctantly turn back towards Bucky. As you suspected he was watching. For a moment you just stare at each other then he pats the bench inviting you back.

“Sit, you showed me your skills. Now I’ll show mine.” He turns back to the piano, fanning out imaginary coat tails as he does so.

The corners of your mouth twitch. How was he so good at diffusing tension? You return to your seat next to him.

“Do you know how to play?” You tease, watching him flex his fingers in preparation.  

Bucky gives you a look of feigned offense. “Of course! Studied with only the best.”

“Annnd the best being…”

“Hush, a master is at work.”

You cover your mouth and suppress a smile. His hands hover over the keys building the anticipation. Then with two fingers he painfully plucks out a jaunty version of Chopsticks.  

You can’t help it. A giggle bubbles up from your chest and slips passed your lips before you can clamp your hands over your mouth. Bucky closes the song with a flourish and then bows to you. Choking back your humor you clap for him, shouting ‘bravo’ a couple times.  

A sense of easiness settles between you two as you take turns playing songs for each other. The dryer whirs on while you attempt to teach Bucky proper hand placement and a portion of a song meant for beginners.

When the dryer finishes you reluctantly rise and reach for your empty basket. Bucky follows you to the dryer and holds the door open while you pile your laundry into it.

Once the last article of clothing made it in he bends to pick it up. You begin to protest, but he ignores you, propping the wicker carrier against his right hip. He carefully reaches out with his metal hand in offering.

“Can I walk you back to your apartment?” asks Bucky.

 You sway back a little, unsure. He waits calmly while you make up your mind. You search his face a moment and make a decision. Cautiously you place your hand in his. Bucky’s metal fingers wrap around yours, gentle and cool.  

Bucky pivots and lightly pulls you away to the elevator. Waiting for the elevator to reach your floor his thumb softly traces patterns on the back of your hand. It sent pleasant shivers up your arm.

All too soon the elevator opens and you arrive in front of your door. You slip your hand out of his hold and open it. Bucky hands off the basket to you. You set it just inside the doorway and turn to say goodnight to him.  

“Y/N,” Bucky takes your hand without asking this time. He focuses in on your knuckles, his thumb grazing the scarred flesh.  

You study his face waiting for him to speak again. It’s clear he’s working out what he wants to say. He opens his mouth to start, thinks better of it, and closes it again. Finally he sighs. He looks up and pierces you with those cool blue eyes.

“I’m just glad that you’re here.” His voice is soft. A sincere smile fills his face.

You blush, turning your face into the door a little to hide it.

“Me too.” You reply. You were genuinely happy to be where you were, surrounded by these good people.

He squeezes your hand once more, bids you goodnight and lopes back down the hallway. You watch his back retreat for a moment, then slip back inside your apartment and head back to bed.

EVERYTHING TAGLIST:

@booktvmoviefangirl @lowkeybuckyb  @mrsdaamneron @xxashy999xx @c-ly-g @coal000 @rroguebones @ghostlyrose2 @part-time-patronus @emelielwh @peaceinourtime82 @buckysforeverprincess @geeksareunique @amnahs9695 @v-2bucky @scarlet-skywalkers @lokilvrr @thisismysecrethappyplace @sacre-bluhm @tatertot1097 @until-theend-oftheline @amoonagedaydreamer @marvelouspottering @thatfanficstuff @chuuulip @littlemarvelfics @averyrogers83 @ellaprime68 @shield-agent78

BUCKY BARNES TAGLIST:

@bloodiedskirtts @igotkatiepowers @misplacedorphan @superwholockwannabe @moonstruckhargrove @ladysergeantbarnes

BBNB TAGLIST:

@imaginecrushes @that-bearshark @jademox @theraputicwritings @marvel-fanfiction @aubri1313 @xcriminalmastermindx @regulusirius @jacquelineisawkward @lostinspace33 @directionerfae @rainbowkisses31 @marie-is-in-the-dark @msgrungie @mrsbarneswillseeyounow @getmedeacon @owhatshername1 @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @mizzzpink @aveatquevale- @sweetlydecaf @absolukeyrh 

#bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #the winter soldier #modern au #broke but not broken

[bellumventurusest-rp]

Narcissa Black - Twenty-Three - Code Green - Pureblood

Wand:  Alder, Unicorn hair, slightly swishy, yielding

Patronus: Non-corporeal

Boggart: If Narcissa were to come face to face with a boggart, she would find herself staring at herself though she would look slightly older and around her would be three little girls – she’s frightened of ending up like her mother with three girls and no one to carry on the family line.

Job: Narcissa works in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, within this branch of the Ministry, she works in the International Magical Office of Law.

P E R S O N A L I T Y   T R A I T S

Positives: Studious, Resilient, Driven

Negatives: Blunt, Stubborn, Self-reliant

H I S T O R Y

Being birthed female was not a tragedy in itself, unless the baby was a family branch’s last chance at conceiving an heir; Narcissa Black was born on a rather chilly October night and had been greeted with looks of utter disappointment. The third girl birthed into Cygnus Black’s family branch meant that she was merely a spare to the spare, it was a fact she had loathed in her younger years but came to relish as she grew. Conditional freedom was a gift to her because of her position and while she did look up to her sisters, Narcissa knew that she had something much more valuable.  

The age of five saw Narcissa begin to dabble in the world of languages, though it was purely by accident. Whether her father had intended to gift the books to Andromeda or Bellatrix didn’t matter, she had found them first. Speaking French was almost mandatory, though the addition of  Spanish, Portuguese and Czech were purely voluntary. To most in her family, the additional languages just added value to her but Narcissa saw something completely different: individualism. Languages were something purely hers and it made filling notebooks up with vocabulary words, phrases, and sayings that much easier.

Perhaps it was the small taste of individuality that she had gifted herself with her language studies, but age nine saw her frown more and more whenever she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her features were soft and though she loved her brown hair, she craved something different. Being the youngest of the three had at one time been a fact she loathed, yet at her age, she was happy to know it was once of the very few reasons her parents were just a bit lenient with her. The change in hair color would have normally caused a long discussion with both her parents and yet, it had seemed almost too easy to convince them that blonde hair would look much more attractive. So she became just a tad bit more different than her sisters, though her roots would always serve as a reminder of who she really was.

Second year of Hogwarts saw Narcissa spend more and more nights in the library as she studied for her classes and continued her studying of the Italian language. It wasn’t often that she would go a day without someone telling her that she didn’t need to push herself too hard, after all she was a Black family member. It was only once during that year that Narcissa allowed herself to wonder if giving in to the guaranteed success of her family would really have been so bad. She received a kneazle kitten the following year as a reward for her efforts from her parents.

Engagements in the world of Aristocratic Purebloods were expected and no one was saved from them yet, she had expected a few more years to pass before receiving her own engagement announcement letter during her sixth year at Hogwarts. Lucius was a fine choice, she understood why he had been picked but still she wondered why her and not Andromeda. The answer came later when she found out of her sister’s engagement, though it was an unexpected surprise, she welcomed it. After all, it was expected of her.    

Age twenty-three has granted Narcissa success in her chosen career and while others dreaded going in to work, she adored it. She’s more than aware that her family has enough money for her to not work but it was her mother’s own words to not become complacent that drove her to start working in the first place. Working for the Ministry for Magic, had at one time seemed entirely laughable but now, she’s all too happy to call it her work place.  

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

Bellatrix Black & Andromeda Black - Sisters - Andromeda no longer is a part of Narcissa’s life. Since her betrayal, no one has dared brought up the middle Black child. Many pretend she never existed, others wish her a world of hell. Narcissa tries to ignore the memories and past comforts of Andromeda but still finds herself weeping and fuming in moments of privacy. Since Narcissa’s birth, she and Bellatrix share a close bond. Bellatrix has always been Narcissa’s protector, an inspiration of strength and ambition that Narcissa always admired. She notices Bellatrix’s darkening ways and follows her erratic behaviour, it has become worrisome for Narcissa as she grows slightly concerned with Bellatrix’s overall wellbeing. The two sisters continue to have a close bond and Narcissa still greatly looks up to her.

Sirius Black - Cousin and despises - Sirius has been a disgrace to the Black Family since his first year at Hogwarts. The sight of Sirius makes Narcissa’s blood boil. He betrayed the Black family years before Andromeda and Narcissa still felt a fire of abandonment, humiliation, and rage towards him. The little contact they held involved him taunting everything from her looks to her engagement with Lucius. The two have not communicated since Sirius’s graduation from Hogwarts.

Lucius Malfoy - Fiancé - Falling in love was never something Narcissa believed that she would get to experience yet, with Lucius it feels like she has. There’s something in the way that he makes her feel that’s different than how previous beaus’ made her feel. Yet, she has pushed back the wedding date on more than one occasion; though the reasoning behind the delay had always been valid. She believes that she  loves Lucius and the letters he would write back to her allow her to believe that he cares for her too.

Faceclaim: Florence Pugh Status: TAKEN

#hp rp #marauders rp #roleplay #marauders era rpg #marauders rpg #narcissa black #all #taken #takenf

[kamino-ink]

Wither | Kim Woojin

genre ⌁ dystopian, sci-fi, adventure, dystopian!au, angst, fluff, inspired by The Hunger Games!

summary ⌁ What’s left of the two Koreas is now the pit of entertainment for the rest of the world, built upon corpses, natural disasters, and lost wars - the scattered districts now fight to survive each day. When your name is plucked from the hundreds of thousands in the country, you are left no choice but to comply to your fate - either kill and win, or die trying.

word count ⌁ 3k

warning ⌁ incredibly violent w/ lots of gore, crude humor, suggestive at times, etc.

01

Check out my masterlist!

 When you wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. The only visible evidence of a body having been laying there the previous night is a strewn section of the tattered sheet and a single pillow with a bit of a dent in it. An afterglow of the morning light seeps through the cracks of the wooden walls, spreading across your warm cheeks, one of which was still pressed against the pillow under your head. You prop yourself up onto an elbow, tired gaze searching for Seungmin.

 You sit up begrudgingly from the stale comfort of the mattress, ignoring the small wince of pain that jolts up your spine and the distinct pop of your wrists as you push yourself up. Finally your gaze manages to focus on the span of the tiny room, the younger boy in question stood in front of a broken mirror by the foot of the bed. Clad in only a pair of shredded sweatpants, his bare back is open for the world to see. Dark scars run down his melanin skin, leaving no space for healing.

 Sitting at his exposed feet is a giant beast of a dog - he insists that it’s a mixed bastard, though by the appearance of the damn things drooling canines and scratchy pelt, you still think he picked up the runt of a coyote. As if it can sense your gaze burning daggers into the boy’s back, the dog lifts its muzzle and curls its lip, showing off the cracked teeth and his lolled tongue. His green gaze meets yours, as if challenging you to approach.

 Deciding not to risk pissing off the runt, you instead slide off the ancient mattress, a slight squeak from the springs making you flinch just a little. “Seungmin, you should be getting ready.”

 “So should you, Y/N.” He retorts quickly, thankfully tearing his harsh stare from his shattered reflection of the dusty mirror to look you up and down. “I would say sorry for letting you sleep in, but... then I would be lying.”

 “And we do not tell lies in this home, Minnie. Good on you.” You tease him lightheartedly as you go to the closet door, which has been permanently stuck to be open ever since the sliding door had jammed after an earthquake a few years back. You listen to his quiet scoff at your teasing words while you shuffle through the closet, searching for an appropriate outfit for the day’s big event. Your fingertips brush against what feels like a cardboard box near the back of the closet, which you subtly bring out.

 The top is riddled with dust and grime, though you were used to the germs and murk covering just about anything in the house. Of course you couldn't help but gag a little in pure disgust at the sight of whatever god forsaken substance had rubbed onto your fingers from the lid. Still, you slide the lid off the box, only to hesitate when you see the clothing inside.

 The hesitation to bring out whatever might be in the box is obvious to your brother, to which he sends you a solemn look before his cold gaze travels down to the box. It’s clear that he recognizes it by the flash of emotion in his eyes, but he doesn’t discourage you from exploring what’s inside. “It’s Amber’s dress, the one that Henry gave her before the annual ball,” the brunette explains quietly, “he gave it to me after the funeral. Said s’mthing about Amber wanting to give it to you when it got to be too small.”

 Amber... god you missed her.

 “I - what if Henry sees me in her dress?” You question him almost inaudibly, though you decide to go ahead and grip the material of the wool dress and slowly bring it out of its lone container. “I don’t want to bring up those memories, Minnie. You know damn well that he’s been trying to forget everything for years now.”

 “Then don’t wear it. You’re the one making a big deal out of it, Y/N.” The younger retorts in a dry tone. He opts to let the room fall into strange but comfortable silence as you stare idly at the dress now dangling from your fingertips, and he follows your actions in the way of haphazardly throwing a shirt over his top half, effectively covering the scars dotting a majority of his body.

“... the dress suits you, Y/N. You’ll look beautiful - maybe a person of the opposite gender might actually give you the time of day.”

 “Uh huh, like who? Kino?”

 “Definitely not Kino - I mean you’d catch his attention, but I’d beat the shit outta him before he got the chance to talk to you.” Seungmin says immediately, ruffling the top of your head of hair as he walks out of the bedroom, the stinky dog following at his heels. “Hurry up and get dressed, though. Baekhyun and Chanyeol said they’d be waiting by the records hall for us.”

 And then he’s gone, having let the curtain separating the bedroom from the rest of the house fall back into the entryway behind him. You look back to the wool dress sitting in the palms of your hands - the dress that belonged to your older sister all those years ago. She had always wanted you to wear her clothes, mostly the knitted dresses her love Henry had made, but when you were younger you had vehemently refused; you were a child who favored the common tattered jackets and clothes of your district rather than the better looking cloth Amber’s wealthy beau had made himself.

 She had never gotten the chance to see you wearing her clothes. She never got to see how you would look in the fashion that she adored simply because they came from the man she loved. In fact, she was like you, preferring the thin cloth and ripped pants most seen hanging off the bodies of other Chester residents; but when it came to Henry, she wouldn’t hesitate to try on the dresses he designed.

 With a soft sigh you start to strip yourself of the nightgown with holes in it and a ripped trim, letting it fall to the floor and coil around your bare feet. Taking the dress and sliding it over your naked body, you wonder if perhaps your sister is watching - maybe she could finally see her little sister wearing the dress she adored so much - albeit for a day of sorrow and nightmares.

 Chester was known for its gloomy atmosphere and just as chilly temperatures. The older district was in the heart of South Korea, stretching from what was once known as Seoul all the way to Busan. Arguably the better option of all the accumulated districts, the cold days and nights were heaven compared to some of the nuclear fallout to the west or south. In the other districts, it was rare to find food or even proper shelter - being accepted to reside in Chester was a diamond in the rough for many families, including yours.

 After the nuclear fallout between North and South Korea almost a century ago, both countries turned to dust - those who somehow survived the war unified both halves of the whole as best as they could, seeking assistance or asylum from other countries and world powers.

 But the help never came - at least, not after the disease had started to spread.

 It started when the United States flew out military personnel and some doctors to help rebuild or save lives. No one had been aware of it back then, but the lingering radiation that didn’t automatically kill the survivors had seeped into their cells, staining their genetic makeup somehow. Yet when those who came from the outside came in contact with those they were sent to help, their skin would blister with bubbles that popped within seconds, spraying contaminated blood and pus onto their skin. In the first twenty-four hours of recovery efforts, anyone from the outside either died or escaped back to their home countries before they became infected. What was left of the two Koreas became outcastes to the world, with no help coming in that century or the next.

 And now your generation, along with every generation after that, was known as the Alien Bloods - not very creative in your opinion, or too witty; but in any case it was true. You and your brother, along with anyone else in North and South Korea, had tainted blood.

 So how were any cities still alive? How did the districts come about? If no help ever came, how was it that you were even alive?

 Entertainment. That was what the two countries became to the entirety of the healthy population. Apparently the economy of literally every other country had started to collapse due to the annihilation of the war, and the world powers thought it best to create something from the ashes - something that would bring in commercial success from every corner of the globe. And thus, The Radiation Games was born - stolen right from the title of an ancient novel dubbed The Hunger Games, though they switched it to be a tad bit more fitting with the nuclear situation at hand.

 There were districts instead of cities or towns, and you happened to be... “lucky” enough to live in Chester district; only those who had less of the genetic mutation than the rest of the population were permitted to reside in the giant sector of the country, and your family was part of that closed circle. Chester was the hub, so to speak, of what was left of South Korea while North Korea became the black-market central, namely the district of Nixvar. Two halves of a whole indeed.

 Walking out of the stone and wood block you called home, the first thing you spotted was a crowd of US soldiers, white and yellow radiation suits clinging to every inch of their bodies. They donned familiar helmets similar to that of an astronaut’s, the yellow skull signa a trademark of their line of work; being dubbed as Cybs by pretty much everyone.

 “’bout time you got done changing.” Seungmin snorted in amusement, kicking himself back up from the gray wall beside the doorway once you step outside. He follows your dead gaze that pierces the suits of the Cybs, almost laughing to himself when one of the bigger ones notices your glare and quickly whips their attention back to their formation. “Come on, Baekhyun and Chanyeol will never let us live it down if we’re late.”

 You nod in silence, watching as the boy sends his dog away and makes sure that it doesn’t follow the two of you into the hub - if a Cyb caught sight of an animal like that in Chester, the damn runt would be shot down without hesitation.

 Seungmin leads the way, as he always has when it was Reaping day, one of his callused hands tugging gently on your own. Any sort of crowd blocking the paths into the central hub during their walk to the event split away upon seeing your brother, their gazes either admiring, fearful, or filled with burning rage.

 You notice as clear as day how his grip tightens on your hand, the way he straightens his posture in front of the beady glares directed at him. Any time the two of you would leave the house it was similar to this exact situation - the other residents of Chester would watch as their past victor strolled through the district perfectly alive and well, though they wished he was six feet under.

 The pair of you get to the records hall faster than expected, and of course, there are two much taller people waiting for you.

 “I was wondering if you idiots would be late - hell Baekhyun took nearly an hour getting ready-”

 “I did not, dipshit! I simply took careful time to make sure I looked good for the cameras; I mean, one of them might catch my youthful innocence and make me a star in the other countries!”

 You laugh quietly to yourself under your breath, breaking apart from an amused Seungmin to give quick hugs to the slightly older men who you both called your friends. “I’m sure that all the cameras will be focused on you, Baek.”

 The blonde makes a noise of agreement, wildly waving his hands in the air. “Aha! See Yeollie, Y/N agrees!”

 “She’s humoring you, dumbass,” the tallest of your group deadpans, quirking an eyebrow in your direction, “we’ll talk more after this whole thing is over. I snuck in some deer meat from Nixvar, we can cook that and see if Jaebum finally got that old TV working.”

 Everyone hums at that, picturing the cooked deer meat and an old movie at Chanyeol’s place above the White Clover Bar. Seungmin and Baekhyun walk ahead, the blonde pestering the younger boy by poking at his sides and messing with his hair.

 “How was it today?” Chanyeol asks you under his breath as he walks beside you, having to glance down since you didn’t exactly come near his towering height. “I mean, with the crowds. Did everyone just...?”

 “Yeah, but when don’t they?” You grumble in response, watching your little brother with diligent eyes just in case someone tried anything. Ever since Seungmin had won last year’s games it was as if the world had turned against him, all because of the way he’d done it. “Who knows, maybe they’ll be too busy watching people slaughter each other this year to care for a hot minute.”

 The pink haired boy sighs at your sharp words, comfortingly resting one of his palms on your shoulder, leading you to the other two boys who’d found a clear spot in the crowd - likely since most of them had parted to make a good few feet between themselves and Seungmin. You go to stand beside your brother, Chanyeol going beside you while Baekhyun remains on the other side of the youngest.

 Then you hear it - the unmistakable sound of platform boots clacking against the stone stage in front of the courthouse. Any and all conversation falls silent to the stadium as the main host finally makes his appearance, his bouncy blonde hair cut a different style than last year’s games. A couple of shiny rings curl around his thin fingers, and the young boy is donning a black skirt that swung down to his knees alongside a frilly sort of red shirt with sleeves that encased his hands like paws.

 He saunters over to the microphone in the middle of the stage, tapping on it once to give it a quick test. “Ah, it’s working - good, good... in that case; welcome, welcome! As many of you know, I am Han Jisung, your favorite Radiation Games host and occasional interviewer! Today is Reaping day, where one male and one female contestant will be chosen to represent Chester in this year’s games. Now, for the ground rules: anyone is open to be chosen for the games, young or old, victor or not, it’s a fair game out here folks-”

 Twelve districts, twenty-four competitors - it was as if the world powers had truly taken the concept from The Hunger Games and made it their own, in a way. How... admirable.

 “Now, let’s start with the ladies!” Jisung hums brightly, leaning over to pick a single slip of paper from the giant glass bowl. He shuffles around for a moment, his tongue poking out from between his lips until he finally picks a name. Slowly, he unfolds the paper, and for a split second you can see the look of surprise and guilt flashing across his face. “O-oh! It looks as if the Reaping is becoming a fam-family tradition!”

 “Y/N Y/L/N, please come forward!”

 No. This couldn’t be happening.

 You were supposed to leave with Seungmin, Baekhyun, and Chanyeol. You were supposed to go have fun with your brother and best friends, eating deer meat and watching shitty movies all night while those who hadn’t fallen victim to the reaping partied in the bar below Chanyeol’s block.

 You weren’t supposed to be picked.

 “M-miss Y/N, please hurry along now-”

 “NO!” Seungmin screams from beside you, blocking the incoming Cybs from being able to reach you. His voice cracks as he shouts curses at everyone, going as far as to nearly lunge at a Cyb that tries to pull him away from your frozen body. “You fucking bastards already took Amber away from me, you’re not going to take my only other sister! I’ll fucking slaughter all of you dirty rats-”

 Baekhyun somehow manages to pull the furious boy away, though his eyes are wide in shock, too. Chanyeol gently pushes you forward to the waiting Cybs, but not before giving you a tight squeeze of reassurance. He’s saying goodbye.

 You let the men and women wearing radiation suits escort you to the front stage. You watch yourself on the screen above the stage as your feet subconsciously carry you to stand beside the waiting host.

 “-moving right along, let’s pick from the gentleman!”

 Who would take care of Seungmin? Sure he insisted that he would be just fine by himself most times, but he was still a kid in your eyes; though you supposed Baekhyun and Chanyeol would make sure to keep an eye on him in your place.

 “Byun Baekhyun, please come forward!”

 Another cry of outrage comes from Seungmin, and you're positive that you’ve let out a small noise of disbelief. For some reason, you torture yourself by watching as one of the men you called your best friend determinedly walks onto the stage, watching as his chest begins to rise and fall in waves of panic. Baekhyun shouldn’t be up here - you shouldn't be up here, waiting until you were forced to fight for your lives in an arena.

 “... no volunteers? Well then - give a warm round of applause to your contestants from Chester; Y/N Y/L/N and Byun Baekhyun! May the odds be ever in your favor!”

 From the looks of things, it was as if the odds were never in your favor.

#skzwriters #stray kids #stray kids au #stray kids fic #stray kids scenario #stray kids drabble #stray kids imagine #kim woojin #woojin scenario #woojin imagine #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff

[kyleanand]

A Quiet Place: Review

-Acting: 2/2

The cast of A Quiet Place is admittedly small. That being said, each actor has a unique presence that is seen - not heard, as the plot progresses. All of the actors commit to their parts perfectly. John Krasinski excels as director and also dad of the year in this film. Every facial expression he makes screams (silently) of desperation and trepidation. You can tell that Lee cares deeply for the well-being of his family and you want to root for him the whole way through. Emily Blunt plays the extremely resourceful Evelyn Abbott. Evelyn’s quick-thinking and tenacity definitely keep you on the edge of your seat as things predictably go from bad to worse. Noah Jupe plays Marcus Abbott, the brother of Regan and Beau. Marcus is a grounded character, albeit underused. Speaking of this, Regan acts as the ‘heart’ of the Abbott family/McGuffin of the film. Her crucial role is quite simple for audience members to understand but Simmonds gives an outstanding performance regardless.

-Cinematography: 1/2

The cinematography of A Quiet Place is quite good. Colour, darkness and camera movement is used to great effect in the movie. Although the film is billed as a horror film, I would hesitate to use this designation. While the cinematography is definitely horror-ish, I think the film is more akin to a sci-fi thriller. Genre classifications aside, I had a problem with how the monsters of the film looked. (They’re totally aliens by the way). They look very CGI-y and unreal. I’m sure if I was running around the Abbott’s farm I would be scared out of my wits, but because I was sitting in a movie theatre looking at a screen, the creatures look very out of place.

-Sound: 2/2

Wow. If you’re looking for a film with great sound design, this is the movie to watch. You know it’s good when the crew made no noise when filming to incorporate the organic sounds from the locations. And come on… you knew that before walking in to the theatre that sound would need to be perfectly mastered for this movie to work. Music wasn’t bad either.

-Script: 0/2

I think I’m probably in the minority here, but the plot of the movie really didn’t jive with me. Good stories allow the audience to suspend their disbelief so that we may conveniently overlook any glaring plot holes or narrative inconsistencies. We’ve all heard the saying: “Out of the frying pan and into the fire,” but this movie might as well be called: “Out of the frying pan and into the fire, and then into a supernova.” Don’t get me wrong. I’m totally okay with the protagonists struggling during the plot. In fact, I think that all stories should do this. However, given the fact that the setting for this film is extremely self-contained both in terms of time and space, it becomes a little unbelievable that so much ka-ka can hit the fan over such a short time span., I get what the writers were going for, but the execution of the plot points is very haphazard. There is so much going on during the 2nd and 3rd act that it’s extremely hard not to scratch your head at the narrative decisions made.

-X-factors: 2/2

It’s very rare that you’ll see a contemporary Hollywood film with such sparse verbal dialogue. The usage of American Sign Language is less a novelty for audiences and more of a serious aspect of the narrative’s modus operandi. The fact that all of the actors learned ASL for their roles... (with the obvious exception of Millicent Simmonds as Regan), is a remarkable feat. Most importantly, all of the characters are totally believable as members of the Abbott family. The creatures of the film are unique to the genre on film, even though they look a little silly at times. The film isn’t totally original and is a tad bit melodramatic lacking substance. I am most obviously reminded of Signs (2002) and the video game: The Last of Us (2013) in terms of tone and plot. However, the novum of A Quiet Place rests with its sound design, and usage of genre fluidity.

-Verdict: 7/10

I think A Quiet Place is a fresh take on an established genre. That being said, if you look closely, you can see the inspiration Krasinski perhaps consciously or subconsciously borrows from. All of the actors in this film are great. However, the plot sometimes suffers from some head-scratching moments of unfortunate coincidence. That being said, A Quiet Place knocks it out of the park with its uncanny sound design.

#a quiet place #john krasinski #emily blunt #Film Review #film

[russellthornton]

Blunt Person Bestie: Why Blunt Friends Are a Big Boon in Disguise

Blunt people tend to get a bad reputation for being too harsh. But, as a blunt person myself, these are the reasons why you should appreciate them.

Being blunt can be both a blessing and a curse. How do I know this? Well, I am a blunt person.

But, what is a blunt person? It is someone who says what’s on their mind without considering the fallout of what they say. It can also be described as a straightforward person. It is essentially someone that says it like it is.

Why a blunt person is misunderstood

Being friends with a blunt person can be so beneficial to your life. But we will get further into that later. For now, let’s talk about why blunt people are so misunderstood.

I have been called cold, heartless, rude, and plenty of other less than nice terms because I tend to be a blunt person. And I get it. From the perspective of someone who may be sensitive or not used to people telling them they are wrong or putting them in their place, a blunt person can come across as harsh.

Being a blunt person is a risk. By saying exactly what you think without worrying about people’s initial reactions or feelings can push some people away or rub them the wrong way. But does that mean a blunt person is actually rude or harsh? [Read: How to be a good person and transform your world]

What is a blunt person’s intention?

Yes, some people are just plain rude. But many blunt people truly want to help and have the best intentions at heart. A blunt person tells you the truth because it often helps later.

A blunt person might tell you that you are making the wrong choices when it comes to dating. And that can come across as rude, but they just want you to be happy. Blunt people also tend to be lacking a bit of patience, so rather than letting you learn from your own mistakes or come to terms in your own time, a blunt person will spill the tea ASAP.

A blunt person’s true intentions are not to upset you or make you feel bad. They want you to face the truth now so you can be stronger later. They *or should I say we?* want you to hear what you need to hear rather than what you may want to hear. [Read: The qualities only a good friend possesses]

Why you should appreciate a blunt person

Now that you know where a blunt person is coming from, you may get it a little bit more, but you may not fully get why it is so beneficial to have a blunt person in your life.

We all love the friend that tells us we look great in every outfit, and that we are definitely making the right career move by opening an Etsy shop to sell homemade jewelry. Boosting our confidence and nodding along with whatever we say is what a good friend does.

But what a great friend also does is make you face your problems head-on. They make you question things and challenge yourself. They inspire and support you, but also make you deal with the facts. And that is what a blunt person does. They care less if you are mad at them and care more about your happiness.

#1 They will always be honest. You may think all friends or at least all good friends are honest. But that isn’t always the case. A blunt person, however, will always be honest even brutally so if need be.

If you are dating someone who is clearly lying to you or disrespecting you, your blunt friend will tell you the flat-out truth. They have no problem being the bearer of bad news, if it is news you need to hear. [Read: How to recognize and end toxic relationships]

#2 They won’t let you dwell. After a breakup, letting it all out is good. Cry, eat ice cream, watch romcoms, but when the time comes you need to get up and move on.

A blunt person won’t let you dwell in sadness. They will make sure you stay busy and tell how much you deserve better. [Read: Good friends are like stars – 18 ways to build lasting friendships]

#3 They will push you. A blunt person won’t just listen to your dreams, but they will push you to make them a reality. If you are hesitant to move for your dream job or take a risk for something you truly want, they will push you to be truly happy.

It is nice to have friends that listen and support you, but a blunt person in your life to give you that push you need is irreplaceable.

#4 They won’t let you settle. We have all taken a job where we were underpaid. We have all been in a relationship where we were underappreciated. But a blunt person won’t just sit around while you waste all you have to offer somewhere or with someone that isn’t good enough.

A blunt person will remind you of everything you are capable of. [Read: 15 qualities of a good friend that sets them apart]

#5 They challenge you. Some people love having friends that just let them be. They love being around people who are agreeable. But, sometimes, having a blunt person around can be exactly what you need. They get you to learn new things, try new things, and always keep getting better.

A blunt person will be the devil’s advocate and question you and really make you think hard about your decisions.

#6 They won’t say I told you so. Okay, okay, maybe this is just me. There are plenty of blunt people who say I told you so, but the blunt people that are decent human beings won’t.

They will tell you how it is, give you their perspective, and share all they can, but they also know how to step back and let you make up your own mind. And even if they turned out to be right, they won’t rub it in. They said their piece and support you no matter what. [Read: How to be a better listener in your relationships]

#7 They listen. A blunt person doesn’t just toss out advice at the drop of a hat. They don’t just spew advice at you until you obey. A blunt person likes to collect all the facts before offering a solution or opinion.

That is what makes a blunt person such a good listener. They won’t cut you off or talk over you. They will take everything you say into consideration before giving their full blunt response.

#8 They won’t accept nonsense. A blunt friend won’t accept nonsense from you or anyone else. If you are in denial about something, they won’t allow you to be. They will hit you with the truth, no matter how hard. If you lie to them, they will call you on it.

And what makes them so great is that they stand up for you. If someone lies to you, they will call them on it too.

#9 They advise. Some blunt people will be cruel by saying you look awful in an outfit or that your significant other is a waste of a human being. But many blunt people will offer advice.

They will say that outfit doesn’t do your body any justice, try it with a belt. And they might say your beau doesn’t treat you with the respect, you deserve to find someone who will. See the difference? [Read: 5 unique traits that make a person trustworthy]

#10 They won’t let you down. A blunt person has a lot of opinions and loves to share them. They have no problem spitting out their every thought. And they don’t really care if you’re a tad offended if what they said is helpful in the long run.

All it means is a blunt person is invested in you. They care. They wouldn’t put your friendship at risk to ensure your happiness, health, and safety if they didn’t. That is why a blunt person will never let you down. They will always be there to listen, advise, and tell you exactly what you need to hear, even if it is hard to swallow.

Remember blunt people tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear.

[Read: Really understanding what a friend actually is]

A blunt person is a lot of things. They can be harsh and pushy, but they are also supportive and inspiring. And having one in your life can actually turn out to be one of your biggest advantages.

The post Blunt Person Bestie: Why Blunt Friends Are a Big Boon in Disguise is the original content of LovePanky - Your Guide to Better Love and Relationships.