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1184p · 3 years

Note

hey! I was wondering if you could do a tom holland x reader where they’re not dating but sorta are? The reader is really connected to her fans and stuff and always goes live, so in one live reader is getting ready to go to a party. Then videos get leaked of reader dancing and partying, and in a interview with tom and he gets all jealous after seeing the video? If any of that makes sense.

COMPLICATED

pairing ; tom holland x actress!reader

character count ; 7523

note ; thank you for the request love!tried my best,hope you guys like it^^

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Your relationship was complicated, to say the least.

It seemed as though, everyone knew you were dating, except Tom, in his mind you were more of friends with benefits.

You knew this and yet you still stupidly fell in love with him.

But as of lately, you were getting fed up with this circling back and forth that was going on inside your head.

Thinking it was time to move on, Zendaya, your best friend, suggested a girls night at a nearby club.

As you were searching in your suitcase for an appropriate outfit, an idea sparked.

Being an actress had its pros and cons, one that was both, were the fans.

You were lucky enough to have supportive fans. You loved interacting with them at events, and Instagram lives made it just a tad bit easier to do.

It seemed like the perfect opportunity to start one while getting ready.

As you were tidying up a little for the live, text messages from Tom blew up your phone. You felt bad for ignoring them, but you didn't want anything nor anyone to ruin your mood.

"Hey guys"you started the live with a smile on your face,thousands of people joining already.

Time passed by in a flash, before you even knew it, Zendaya was already at your door.

Saying goodbye to your fans, you approached the door while pulling down your dress, preventing it from riding up even more.

Letting in your friend, she was already complaining about how Tom's been whining to her about you not answering his texts.

"Seriously, that boy should stop, he's getting on my nerves"Her face showing her inner frustration.

"I know I know, but, no more talking about him tonight, let's just go and have some fun"At this her eyes lightened up, pulling you by your hand excitedly out of the room, later out of the building right into a cab.

The club Zendaya has chosen was unknown to you, but that didn't stop you from having the time of your life.

You drank more than you should have, not even your friend's concerned eyes stopped you from drinking away your feelings for Tom.

Oh Tom, while you were laughing hysterically at everything you saw, he was worried for you, he saw that you did a live but only caught it when it was already over.

It was so strange you didn't answer him, you always did. Now Tom wasn't as oblivious as you thought, he knew what you felt, hell, he felt the same, but in his head he was at war with himself, he thought he'd only complicate things by telling you.

So when he finally fell asleep after some tossing and turning, he woke up to some pictures of you and Zendaya at a local club.

You looked happy, really drunk, but nonetheless happy in a stranger's company while dancing.

Is that what you were doing?Is that why you were ignoring Tom's messages?

Questions flooded his head, his insecurities almost eating him alive.

You woke up with a throbbing headache, everything still blurry. You limited your moving pace, as moving too fast made your stomach turn.

Looking around as everything became clearer, you saw you were in Zendaya's bedroom, seen from her stuff around the room, thanking the gods above you weren't in a stranger's bed.

Although your co-star was nowhere to be seen, hearing the shower going on in the bathroom revealed her location.

On the bedside table did you find your phone, plugged into a charger, making a mental note to thank Zendaya.

Missed phone calls and messages filled your phone, some from other friends but most were from Tom. Ignoring your problems just a second longer, you checked your friends' messages. You were confused as what pictures they were referring to. Clicking the link one of them sent you, it immediately opened Twitter, and there they were.

Loads of pictures were revealed before your eyes. Some with Zendaya in it but the larger amount was you in it, well you and a stranger dancing real close to each other.

As the night's memories slowly came back to you with each picture, you scolded yourself internally for not being more cautious.

Jumping up from the bed, and then immediately regretting it as the movement only made your headache worse, you hurriedly got your stuff, leaving a note for the still showering Zendaya, thanking her and informing where you were going to.

Making a quick stop at your room, trying to make the mess that you call your hair, less bird nest-y like. You checked your breath just to find out it reeked from all the alcohol you drank the night before, you decided that brushing your teeth would be a good idea to do before seeing Tom.

You locked the door on your way out, in your head already trying to come up with a way you'd tell Tom about your feelings. Yes, you're going to, you've had enough of tip-toeing around it.

At Tom's door, you took a deep breath in, preparing for whats to come. You lifted your hand to knock when a panicked Tom opened it before your hand could even touch the door. You saw the man in front of you visible relax at the sight of you. He wouldn't admit it, but seeing all those pictures with you and that stranger made him green with jealousy inside.

"Y/n!I'm so glad to see yo-"

"Tom, I have to tell you somet-"Silence has fallen over you two. Tom stared at you for a moment with slightly widened eyes.

"You go first"He offered with a smile on his face but still with a tad bit of nervousness as to what you are going to say.

"Okay, so, I've been thinking about this a lot lately, tried to avoid ever having this conversation, but, here goes nothing I guess,"while you, with a slight waver to your voice, shifting from one foot to another, were gathering you thoughts, Tom was in hardly any different shape than you were, thinking and hoping that maybe just maybe, you'd be braver than he's ever been and confess your feelings to him.

"I'm in love with you, and I know you're not with me, and that's okay, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't tell you. I want to be more, I want to hold your hand out in public, I want to be the reason you wake up with a smile on your face, to be the one you think about 24/7, to be the one you take Tessa to the park with. I want to be the one who'd make your bad days better, to be there for you, all this, goes back to, I want to be with you Tom, like really be with you."You wait for him to say anything,but for a few seconds he just stands there stunned with his mouth slightly opened.

"You know what, forget it"You say and turn around,taking a step forward when a hand stops you.You turn to Tom with a confused gaze,hurt evident in your eyes.

"I'm in love with you too, I've been since i don't even know when, now I know I was a fool for not saying anything but I was so scared of screwing something up.I'm sorry." Tom said with a bashful gaze.

"I forgive you"You smiled at him, still a tad bit shocked by his confession.

Tom took a step closer, one of his hand coming up to your face while the other one was holding your waist. He carressed your cheek, thump swiping across your lower lip, eyes full of love for you, he asked:

"Can I kiss you"you nodded, unable find your voice from the way his body was so close to yours.

Then he kissed you, it was as if you were floating, his pillowy lips softening the fall.It always felt like it was the first time ever kissing him.

Minutes went by that felt like hours, kissing him, before you both had to separate, lungs hungry for air.

"We were pretty silly"Tom chuckled,looking intensely in your eyes.

"We really were"Tom pecked your lips and then asked you to be his girlfriend,which to you of course said yes,feeling full of contentment and love for him.

You're glad you finally said something.

THE END

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Hope you lovelies have a nice day💚

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kingofthewilderwest · 3 years

Note

I know you aren’t keen on getting a bunch of asks recommending media, but is there anything you’ve gotten into lately that you’re during to pitch to people?

Let's see. ^.^ I'm currently watching Adventure Time. This is my first time watching every episode sequentially (circa 2013 or 2014 or so, I watched a spattering of episodes out of order but never finished the show). Currently in S6. I absolutely love how the world grows in Adventure Time. You can tell the early seasons were written with little in mind, simply going out, being wild, being spontaneous, and creating a wacky, trippy world. But that turned into a world with great depth, heart, and expansion as the series continues (especially once you enter Season 5). The worldbuilding is awesomely done.

I feel like lots of shows, when they transition from "early spontaneity" to "long-term comfort," they lose something. I think of Futurama. The early seasons of Futurama are incredible because it's not formulaic to the viewer; events are unexpected; new characters are introduced rather than repeated, expected, predictable recurrences. Futurama is still a HELL of a show in its middling seasons, etc. and a fave of mine. The Office (USA) also has that challenge/loss. But damn, Adventure Time managed the transition INCREDIBLY smoothly and well, I love how you settle into the world. How you get into the depth. How you get worldbuilding. How you get into deeper story messages. And how even in the midst of all that, you still maintain that spark, that spontaneity, that uniqueness, that vibe that made me get interested in the show in the first place.

Adventure Time straddles the line between two types of off-kilter: the positive, quirky-bright off-kilter, and the slight-off-slightly-dark-off-kilter. It's great. I've also heavily appreciated the cast of characters, how there's a ton of women characters, and how they're all very interesting, in-depth, and not standard/stereotypes.

But uhhhhhh. Really my current hyperfixation is. Uh. Bluegrass. [laughter] Seriously. Bluegrass. Especially first generation bluegrass circa 1940s-1960s. I made a fuckin' sideblog intentionally to avoid folks unwantedly suffering juxtaposition of fictional fandom and music history obsessing. Heh. Hilariously, I've been timid to show the true depths of my screeching passion. Rn I'm trying to do blog clean-up and a mini-restart (halfway through retagging my posts! and planning to change how I write my posts so they're shorter, etc.), and trying to get more outgoing... because let's be real, it's going to be more entertaining if I'm gungho crying screeching infodumping unrestrained about the subject, whatever your background is on the subject. I know I enjoy reading posts on any topic if the writer is sufficiently excited, so I need to uh, channel the excitement! SO THAT'S WHAT I AM PLANNING TO DO.

And seriously that's where all my excitement in life is right now!!! It's changed my life and I'm not even joking (not gonna go into here rn why but yeah it has). Like holy shit I can't get enough of reading about these dudes from the 1950s. I can't get enough listening to them, watching videos, learning the little nothings, the stupid humorous stories, the Drama(tm) between competing bands, the development of the music, me learning how to play banjo and fiddle, writing creative stories (fics????) inspired by the topic, everything!!! I can listen to a recording and tell you which fiddler is playing in this band or which mandolin picker or which tenor is singing and probably estimate what year it was recorded because like, holy shit man, I have found my CALLING. I've started collecting 100 year old records! I'm heading to a bluegrass festival this weekend for three solid days of internal (and probably external) fanboying. Gah it's like, fucking, there's all those K-Pop fans out there and they have each other to scream with, and i'm all here by my lonesome on this fucking genre. BUT YOU KNOW WHAT IT HAS CHANGED MY LIFE FOR THE BETTER so I cannot be happier at where my mind has headed.

So if you want to uhhhh read..... THAT??!?!?!?!?! uh? I mean, I don't expect you to be interested. BUT YOU ARE WELCOME TO COME ABOARD AND POKE ME and see what the stupid fucking shit I've somehow managed to get myself into. Okay but seriously it's so coool like all the different banjo playing styles??? How many people innovated their own style and taught themselves to play? ALL THE DIFFERENT INFLUENCES THAT GO INTO BLUEGRASS MUSIC??? How it's simultaneously a hella progressively innovative music style from its inception to today while also considered USA American traditional music? How many of these songs are several hundred years old and originated as English, Scottish, and the like folk tunes? How you might find out a bluegrass song actually originated as an obscure broadway tune that got coopted, or a Jamaican folk song, or big band jazz, or...? I mean holy cow dude, music is awesome and i'm so glad that it's a major part of my life again.

a;eogiaje;roigaje;roiagjerioj I have no idea if this is anything you wanted, but that's my answer I guess! Full of incoherence. Have a great one and stay awesome.

#long post #blabbing Haddock #ask #ask me #thatbanjobusiness #that banjo business #music #Adventure Time #AT #non-dragons #awesome anonymous friend #anonymous

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stareyemoth · 4 years

Text

(Don’t) Take Me To Church

A very short G-rated fic in which Aziraphale watches the Destiel confession and shenanigans ensue. Featuring: crack, fluff, and VHS

There was a time when it was ‘Crowley this’ and ‘Crowley that.” It was bad enough the angel wasn’t talking about him, but some other kind of knock-off demon Crowley? That was insufferable. Crowley (the real one) was thankful when it was over.

But no, apparently, that show never actually ended and Aziraphale was watching it? Again?

Crowley couldn't care less. He decided to shut himself up in the bedroom and listen to music instead. If it was just a tad louder than it needed to be, well that was too bad.

From above the-thankfully-not-yet-Queen music, Crowley unwittingly heard a few of the usual sound effects—screams, knocking, explosions—which he of course ignored. What he was altogether unprepared for, however, was the high pitched screaming that suddenly drowned out his music.

Crowley jumped out of his chair and bolted through the door barely pausing to slam it open, “ANGEL???”

The scream had evidently come from Aziraphale? Who was crying!!!

“Oh no angel what is it??”

Wait, he definitely was crying, but the sobbing sounded a lot closer to—

“Are you laughing? I—don’t” Crowley reached toward Aziraphale but stopped himself, then reached for him again, flapping his arms about in a bungled attempt to help, “Angel? Are you ok?”

Aziraphale waved his hand at Crowley in between fits of laugh-sobbing but couldn’t manage to form a single intelligible word. He gave up the struggle and gestured frantically at the television instead.

Crowley looked from Aziraphale to the TV and back again. The stupid show was finally over, but that didn’t explain anything at all. Crowley was worried. Had the angel finally cracked?

Crowley waited a minute, maybe two, hoping that this fit would subside on its own. When it didn’t, he started to pace, “Angel, what do you need? A human doctor? A priest? Holy water?”

“HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE!!!” the angel continued.

“I don’t understand… is it? Is it that other Crowley?”

Aziraphale shook his head, “HA HA HA HA NO—HA HA HA… THE ANGEL….. GAY!!!” a squeal of giggles erupted again then, “HELL!!!! WRITING!!” he waved his hands more “Bad!! SO BAD! AHAHAHAHHAA!”

“This is all because of bad writing?” Crowley was not at all following.

“NO—YES—It’s.... Hehehehe… So absurd…” he gestured to the TV again, “Destiel!! IS BACK!! It’s REAL!!! BUT ahahahahaaha, THEY SENT HIM TO HELL!” He started laughing uncontrollably again, “OH NO I’M GOING TO HELL TOO! AHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Now this, THIS truly alarmed Crowley. He didn’t understand much of what Aziraphale was trying to say but his angel screaming about going to hell was all wrong. “Hang on, Angel,” Crowley said as he awkwardly scooped Aziraphale off the couch and began to carry him down to the car.

Aziraphale was on the verge of containing his giggle fit until “Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy” started playing on Crowley’s radio and he started laughing all over again. Even more concerned, Crowley raced the car through the London traffic in what was an entirely unsafe display of driving skills.

With a screech, the Bentley pulled to a stop right in front of—a church? Crowley jumped out of the car and opened Aziraphale’s door, “Come on Angel, we’re getting you help.”

“Are we,” a muffled giggle, “Crowley did you take me to church??”

“Yes, so, out you come, let’s go,” he took Aziraphale’s arm and helped him up, “I’m sure we can find someone here to help you.”

“I’m FINE, really,” Aziraphale laughed again, “It was just, you know, well you don’t know, hehehe, do you want to know? OH, You need to watch it too!!”

“Is this seriously because of that television show? You’re not possessed or crazy or something?”

Aziraphale scoffed, scandalized, “Crowley dear, I am most certainly NOT possessed, or crazy, how could you think such a thing?

Crowley simply stared at him wondering if Aziraphale had any idea just how ridiculous he was being.

Aziraphale straightened his coat, “Anyway, I’m… quite fine, quite fine, let’s go home.”

“And what about hell?”

Aziraphale snort-laughed, “SUPER hell.”

“FINE, super hell?”

Aziraphale chuckled then climbed back into the car, “Come on, just take me home.”

Crowley threw his hands up in exasperation. Was this some kind of angel thing he didn’t understand? Still, he did as Aziraphale asked and drove home. Slightly safer than the first run. Maybe.

Aziraphale practically skipped back into the living room. “Now, I’ve gone and recorded the whole thing on my Video Home System.”

“Right, because of course you still use VHS.”

“Yes, yes, look let me just rewind,” he pushed a button with a flourish on the remote control, “One moment.”

‘One moment,’ Crowley mimicked to himself and slumped down on the couch in resignation.

The whooshing sound of the VCR abruptly stopped, “Here we are,” Aziraphale sat down on the couch next to Crowley, “OK, I’m hitting ‘play.’”

“Mmhmm.”

The episode played as intended and Crowley vaguely faded into and out of attention. Toward the end, Aziraphale was suddenly patting the back of his hand excitedly, “Here we are, here we are!”

Crowley undraped himself from the back of the couch and leaned forward, at least willing to humor the angel.

But? What? Was? This?

Castiel had said ‘I love you,’ and was promptly carried away to? Super Hell? Or something?

And it was so? Awkward?

Crowley pointed at the TV accusingly, “This? What is this?? It’s so…? There is NO CHEMISTRY?? And Dean says NOTHING?”

Aziraphale had already melted into a puddle of giggles next to him.

“Is Dean really THIS emotionally constipated all the time?” He looked at the angel in disbelief, “Really??”

Aziraphale clutched at his chest to steady himself, “You don’t understand, this has been a major non-explicit romantic relationship in this narrative for years. They’ve been leading fans on, and it’s finally real and it’s awful and,” more laughter, “HELL!”

“So they made it half-gay, killed the angel, and sent him to hell. Well, sounds like the kind of thing my lot would do,” Crowley remarked.

“DID YOU?”

“What? NO of course not. This is, well I would have done a much better job if I had done it.”

“HEE HEE”

“But why are you going to hell? I mean, these writers are definitely going to hell, don’t get me wrong.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Aziraphale pointed to himself, “Angel,” he pointed to Crowley, “demon, and arguably worse than a hunter, and I love you.”

Fortunately, Aziraphale was not immediately carried away to Super Hell.

And Crowley was not emotionally constipated, either.

(Special thanks to @actuallyfeanor for Crowley reactions and @knitordeath for helping spark this idea as we both lost our minds on November 5th)

cross-posted to AO3

#good omens #destiel #ineffable husbands #crack #fluff #VHS #will post to AO3 momentarily #happy 2020 y'all #tw for like I dunno uncontrollable laughing fits

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meow-bebe · 4 years

Text

Bored Games

Pairing: Minhyuk x Reader

Genre: Fluff, tbh this is just kinda weird, quarantine fic?

Warnings: a decent amount of cussing, one cringey sex joke, an unfortunate attempt at cheating at scrabble based of a real experience of mine

Word count: 3662

A/n: yes you heard me right, this is a quarantine fic. to those in the future, 2020 was a strange time

“I’m boreeeddd, Y/n,” Minhyuk whined, flopping down on the bed beside you. You were currently immersed in a book, laying in a pool of afternoon sunlight on your bed, glasses slipping down your nose as you lost yourself in the pages.

“I know,” you hummed, barely listening.

“I’m tired of staying inside,” he continued.

“I know,” you repeated, flicking a strand of hair out of your face and turning the page.

“I want food that we haven’t cooked.” He rolled over so he was closer to you, and you finally glanced over at him.

“I’m aware.”

“I want to go places!” His voice raised in pitch, somehow managing to become even more whiny, and you sighed, setting your book down.

“Yet again, Minhyuk, I know. Quarantine is driving you insane, you’re constantly bored even though we’re always doing things, and you’re itching to go literally anywhere. Bothering me every three minutes isn’t going to help anything.”

“I know,” he sighed, “I’m sorry. I just have too much-” Mihyuk flails his hands about - “energy. And it feels like there’s nothing to do. I need to keep busy.”

“You could water my plants,” you suggest sarcastically.

“Maybe I will.”

You roll your eyes, and an idea begins to spark in your head. “Actually, I might have something in mind.” Minhyuk pulls his head out where he had buried it between the pillows, eyes bright at the prospect of actually doing something. “How about this. You go find something to do for fifteen minutes so I can finish this chapter-” You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes again at the way your boyfriend visibly deflates - “and then I’ll show you my idea.”

“What, you’re not going to tell me what it is?” Minhyuk teases.

“Nope,” You pop the ‘p’ obnoxiously. “You’ll just have to wait and see. It’s pretty great though, I promise. I think you’ll like it.”

Minhyuk squints at you for a moment before finally agreeing. “Fine. Just, hurry up with the reading.” He got off the bed and dashed toward the door. “I’ll be waiting!” he sang.

“I can only read so fast,” you called after him. You rolled out your neck and turned back to your book, quickly managing to slip back into focus with no more distractions. You finished faster than you had anticipated, slipping the random scrap of paper you were currently using as a bookmark into place. Raising your arms above your head, you stretched out your shoulders before rolling off the bed. You strode over to the closet and swiped all of your clothing to the side, beginning to hunt around amongst all of the boxes of stuff you really didn't want to deal with when you moved in search of two specific boxes, hoping you had marked them correctly.

And there they were, stuck neatly on top of each other in the farthest corner in a surprising contrast to the rest of your messy closet. Board Games. You wore a triumphant smile as you pulled the two boxes from the depths of the closet, managing to get them to the bed without any accidents. You pulled the flaps open on the first box, the smaller of the two, and began to stack up the thinner game boxes on the bed. It was a haphazard pile, but it didn’t really matter. If everything went to plan it would be pulled apart within a few minutes anyway. Fishing the last game out, you tossed the box back towards the closet and told yourself you would clean it up later, knowing that you probably wouldn’t.

You opened the second box, stacking even more games onto your pile before the box met the same fate as the previous one. You gathered the precarious tower up, and even with your arms completely extended it met your chin. Tonight would be fun.

“Minhyuk!” you called as you strode out of the bedroom, startling Minhyuk. He wobbled slightly on his perch on the back of the couch, green watering can in hand as he had apparently scrambled up there to reach the spider plant hanging from the curtain rod. It seemed as though he had taken your overly sarcastic suggestion to heart.

“What,” he asked, eyes zeroing in on the stack in your arms, “are you going to do with those?”

“So remember how I told you I had an idea of what we could do?” He nodded. “We-” you dumped the stack next to the coffee table as Minhyuk tipped the rest of the water into the plant and hopped down onto the couch- “are going to play every board game that I own.”

Eyeing the large stack again, Minhyuk said, “That’ll take all night.”

“That’s the point,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Well then,” Minhyuk grinned and clapped his hands together, “we should get started. What should we play first?”

Shuffling through the pile, you produced a familiar yet dreaded box. “We start with a classic.” An evil grin spread across your face as you held the box up. “Monopoly.”

Monopoly ended about forty-five minutes later and halfway through the game when you somehow managed to hook your arm under the board and sent the entire game flying into Minhyuk’s lap. The two of you had decided that you didn’t want to set everything up again as neither of you could really remember what you owned or where everything went, and you were also aware of the competitive nature of the game and didn’t want to start a feud already. The night was still young after all, and you had a whole stack of other games to play. You had then played a surprisingly aggressive round of double solitaire and were now trying somewhat unsuccessfully to teach Minhyuk how to play Exploding Kittens.

“Hah! Give me your defuse!” Mihyuk bursts as soon as you draw your card, slapping down two ‘hairy potato cat’ cards.

You fan your handful of cards out for him to pick from and sigh. “You can only do that if you have three of those.” Minhyuk huffed and drew one of your cards, adding it to his significantly smaller stash. Scanning over his cards, he tossed a ‘see the future’ onto the discard pile and counted out the top three cards from the top of the deck to look at. He squinted, glanced up at you, and grinned before setting the cards back down and drawing the first one.

“You have an absolutely terrible poker face, you know.” You plucked a ‘skip’ from your hand and put it on top of the ‘see the future’. Minhyuk scowled and went back to dramatically shuffling through his cards. He eventually decided on an ‘attack’ and the pure pride on his face made you feel a little bad when you immediately slapped a ‘nope’ on top of it.

“Oh come on!” he yelled, “This isn’t fair! I barely know how to play this game.” Minhyuk glared down at his cards, and pulled a ‘shuffle’ out before sliding the deck towards you. It was still early enough in the game that there was a decent pile of cards, and you quickly and thoroughly shuffled the deck. Minhyuk drew the slightly bent card on top, promptly throwing it back down when he discovered it was the same exact ‘exploding kitten’ he was avoiding. “Seriously?” he yelled again, tossing down the rest of his cards on the discard pile. “You rigged it!”

You smirked a little. “I did no such thing.”

“This game sucks,” Minhyuk pouted.

“It’s not that bad,” you said, gathering all of the cards so you could shuffle the expansion packs back in and pack up the deck. “It’ll be more fun when you really learn how to play, promise. Why don’t you go choose our next game? Oh, and add another point to my side of the board, would you?”

The two of you had decided to turn this into a little bit more than your average game night, keeping track of who won how many games on the whiteboard that you usually used as a schedule. Considering that you weren’t really doing much these days other than attending video call meetings, you had erased the weekend and were using those slots to keep track of the points. Whoever won the overall competition got to have the other as their ‘slave’ the next day, doing anything and everything the other could ask of you. Truthfully you had no idea who was going to win, but either way tomorrow would be interesting. The arrangement reminded you somewhat of when you were a child and caught your siblings sneaking candy and then forced them into promising you a week of their service in exchange for not telling your parents. Winning Exploding Kittens put you in the lead, as you had decided that each of you would get a point for both Monopoly and solitaire as neither had a particular winner.

Minhyuk glared at you. “Fuck you.”

“Only if I say so,” you teased, and he pretended to throw up in response.

You shuffled the Exploding Kittens cards one last time for good measure before halving the deck and putting it back in the box. You then tossed the box across the coffee table to join the decks of cards on top of the Monopoly box next to Minhyuk’s spot. “Did you pick a game yet?”

“Yes.” He slid the red box onto the table. “We’re playing Scrabble.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You always cheat. I don’t know if I want to play with a cheater.”

He whisked the top off and tossed it to the floor. “I do not. We are playing Scrabble, you got to choose the last one so it’s my turn now. And I choose Scrabble.”

“Fine,” you said, grabbing the board and dramatically snapping it open. “Give me my letter stand thing.”

Minhyuk burst out laughing. “Letter stand thing?” he wheezed, “Isn’t there a word for it? You'll have to try harder than that if you want to win this.”

“Perhaps,” you said, “but I have more important things to focus on right now. Like making sure you don’t cheat.” You snatched the velvet bag from his hands, and immediately paused, not feeling the flat Scrabble letters inside. “This is my D&D dice….”

Minhyuk tipped his head to the side. “You play Dungeons and Dragons?”

“We had a campaign in high school.” You opened the bag just to make sure you weren’t losing your mind and pulled out the favored D20. “How did these end up here?”

“I really don’t know,” Minhyuk said, “but I certainly hope you still have the Scrabble tiles.”

“Well if these are here-” You shook the bag- “I can only assume that the Scrabble stuff is with my D&D books.”

“Alright then,” Minhyuk stood up abruptly, shoving the table towards you a little bit, “let the hunt begin!”

As it turns out you were right, and the wooden letters were, in fact, with your old D&D books. Although the bags were exactly the same, which led you to believe that the bag that the dice currently resided in might have been stolen from one of the other members of your high school party’s Scrabble set, you really weren’t sure how the two had gotten mixed up. It took about twenty minutes of searching through boxes, but the books were eventually found.

You were currently set back up at the coffee table again, each of you with your phones pulled out for easy access and the dictionary sitting next to the game board, and you were impatiently waiting for Minhyuk to finally take his turn.

“Are you going to go, or are you going to sit there and stare at the letters some more?” You asked. “We don’t have all day.”

“We have nothing but time,” Minhyuk says, starting to rearrange the tiles on his stand.

“We also have a shit ton more games to play,” you pointed out. “You accepted the challenge, now we gotta pull through.”

“Fine,” he huffed, gathering his letters, “I’m adding onto your ‘ate’ to make ‘tolerate’. Give me five more letters.”

You held the bag out, high enough so that he couldn’t see into it and choose which letter he drew, and Minhyuk pulled them out one by one, carefully setting them on his stand. He scrawled down a few more tally marks on the ripped sheet of notebook paper you were using to keep score as you surveyed your own letters. As you began to set them out, he pulled his phone up and you squinted suspiciously at him before straightening out what you had placed down and announcing how many points you get.

“I was going to use that letter,” Minhyuk grumbled.

“That’s how the game goes,” you say. “Now take your damn turn.”

“I’m working on it,” he said, placing two letters out, hitting both a double word score and a triple letter score.

“That-” you point at the ‘word’ on the board- “is not a word.”

“Yes it is,” Minhyuk says smugly, “I googled it.”

“Zek?” you question, “there’s no fucking way.”

“Look it up then.”

“Fine,” you say, unlocking your phone, “I will. And I'll prove your ass wrong.” Minhyuk sits there proudly and adds up his as you type his ‘word’ into google.

“‘Zek’,” you read out, “‘a Russian slang term for a prisoner in a Soviet labor camp’. What the fuck, Minhyuk?”

“What?” he asks incredulously.

“Russian. Slang term. Two reasons you can’t use it, right there in the definition! Scrabble words can’t be in other languages, and you can’t use slang terms! Take it off the board and erase your points!”

“Fine!” he exclaims, accidentally knocking a few other letters around as he angrily swiped the ‘z’ and ‘k’ of the board. “But I get another chance.”

“Got your points all counted up?” Minhyuk asks, writing down his final number and hiding the paper from you.

“Yep,” you confirmed, “all words present and accounted for.”

“You go first,” Minhyuk says, grinning down at his numbers before tucking it back against his chest.

“Two hundred and seventeen,” you proudly announced.

“Two hundred and twenty eight!” Minhyuk yells, jumping up from the couch and dancing around the room in celebration. “I fucking win!”

“What?” you screech? “How? All of your words were small and shitty!”

“Yeah they were,” he says, stopping his victory flailing to poke you in the nose, “I just know where to put my small shitty words to get more points than you!”

You grit your teeth and slap his hand away from your face. “Give yourself a point, pick another game.” You carefully folded the board most of the way and situated the bag underneath it, pouring the tiles back into it. You put everything back into the box and slipped underneath Monopoly.

“Here,” Minhyuk fell back into his spot and tossed a small plastic bag of Cards Against Humanity cards onto the table. “Do you have more of these?”

“Somewhere,” you said, “but let’s just use these. Keep it short ‘cause we have more games to get through.”

“Good idea,” he agreed. “Are we planning on having dinner soon? It’s going to get dark in a little while.”

You looked up to the window behind the couch to see the sun sinking steadily towards the horizon. The light was starting to fade from the room, and at some point in the near future you would need to pull a lamp close to the table if you wanted to be able to see whatever you would be playing at that point.

“I am getting kind of hungry. Why don’t we finish this game and then eat?” you proposed.

“Works for me.”

Playing a short round of Cards Against Humanity had brought you back into good spirits again after the overly competitive nature of Scrabble. As always, you had both lost your shit laughing several times, and Minhyuk was surprisingly not very pouty when you claimed the point. (Although he did try to argue that you should only get half a point because it was basically just half a game.)

The two of you had quickly thrown together a small dinner, after which some rearrangement of the living room lamps was required to provide enough light to see by. Despite needing three people to play, a game of Clue was attempted, however you gave up pretty quickly because you each had too many of the Clue cards and therefore too much power. (And Minhyuk was definitely trying to cheat again.) Neither of you got a point for that one.

You were currently trying to work your way through a small box of “road trip games” that you’ve had since middle school, although it wasn’t going very well. For either of you. The box was tiny, the appeal of it coming from the small size and the magnets in the bottom of the pieces that allowed them to not get knocked around. Unfortunately, most of the magnets had fallen out over the years, and you and Minhyuk would consistently bump the little game board around, knocking several pieces over each time. Also neither of you were very good at chess.

Minhyuk moved his knight to take one of your pawns, and you immediately swept in to claim the knight for yourself. He then managed to take another one of your pawns, and you snatched the rook right away. Minhyuk groaned and flopped his head back onto the couch cushion. “This is stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” you chastised, “we’re just bad at it.”

“If both of us are bad at it, it’s not a good game.”

“Your logic is flawed,” you sigh, “just take your turn.” He did, moving his queen to the side in an attempt to get a shot at your remaining tower. “Check,” you announced, and before Minhyuk had a chance to move his queen back to a protective place you moved your knight once more and happily exclaimed, “Checkmate.”

“Fuck this,” Minhyuk glowered and slapped the box closed. “Let’s do something else.”

“We still have to play checkers,” you reminded, adding another point to your column of the schedule.

Minhyuk groaned again. “At least checkers is kind of easy.”

“Well then let’s get to it.”

Several hours had passed. You kept playing games, slowly decreasing the stack next to the couch, adding point after point to the whiteboard. It was definitely pretty late now, but time had no meaning anyway. You were drinking your third cup of coffee, trying to stay alert enough to keep your mind sharp. It wasn’t particularly working.

“It is literally two in the morning. We’ve been playing games most of the day. Are we almost done?” Minhyuk had just won his first game in a while, and you were left staring at the final box on the floor.

“Yeah,” you said, “only one left.”

“What is it?”

“Pictureka,” you say, plonking the broken box onto the table.

“Pictureka?” Minhyuk buries his face in his hands. “For fucks sake, seriously?”

“I’m completely serious,” you say, starting to unpack the tiles.

“I’m tired,” Minhyuk complains, “and you know I can’t see for shit anyway.”

“You’re wearing your glasses,” you point out. “And anyway, as soon as we finish this we can go to bed. This is the last one.”

He huffs dramatically. “Fine.”

The two of you set the game up, and once you began playing, it was obvious that despite the fact that Minhyuk “can’t see for shit,” he was winning anyway. The two of you continued for a while, impatiently waiting for the timer to run out each round, slowly collecting a pile of the challenge cards.

“Wait, are we supposed to go through all of these cards?” Minhyuk asks, suddenly realising how many were left in each stack.

“I mean, I’ve always just played until I got bored,” you say, trying to recall if you’ve ever played the whole decks.

“Then why are we still here,” Minhyuk asks. “It’s too late to be doing this.”

“Says the one with a pile twice the size of mine,” you deadpan.

“Hey, it’s not my fault your brain stops working when you're tired.” Minhyuk raises his hands defensively.

You roll your eyes. “One more round?”

“Perfect.”

Completely unsurprisingly, Minhyuk had won Pictureka. He gave himself another point, and began to help you separate the different colored cards and stick the tiles back into the box. Once that was all put away, it was added to the pile of game boxes sitting next to Minhyuk on the couch and also beginning to pile up on the floor.

You pulled the whiteboard into your lap. “And now, we determine who’s the final winner of game night.”

You counted up your points, wrote the final number at the bottom, and then began on Minhyuk’s. The number you reached on his side made you pause. “....They’re even.”

“What?” Minhyuk screeched in your ear. This earned a glare from you. “Let me see.” He snatched the board from your lap, quickly scanning over the points himself and apparently coming to the same conclusion as you. “Well what do we do now then? Do neither of us get the prize? Or both?”

“Let’s figure it out in the morning,” you say with a yawn, “it’s too late for this.”

“You’re right,” Minhyuk agreed, and stood up to stretch. “Maybe it’s better that we tied.”

“Perhaps,” you mused, “but all I care about right now is going to bed. I’ve sat cross legged for too long today.”

And so, the two of you made your way back to the bedroom, setting your empty coffee mug in the sink and avoiding the boxes you had tossed around earlier. Minhyuk’s boredom had been alleviated, at least for today, and it was almost three a.m. Definitely time to call it a night.

#Monsta X #minhyuk #minhyuk monsta x #mx #minhyuk x reader #lee minhyuk x reader #monsta x x reader #monsta x fluff #minhyuk fanfic #minhyuk fluff #monsta x fanfic #monsta x scenarios #minhyuk scenario #monsta x imagines #minhyuk imagines

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thedeviljudges · 4 years

Note

sometimes (often) your edits makes me see things i hadn't seen before, in ways i hadn't seen it before, and it's so eye-opening and inspiring!! i just stare at them like i haven't even seen the scenes a thousand times already! you're so good at what you do. thank you for making me see new details.

i’m…. really overwhelmed by this message because i think this is one of a handful i’ve ever gotten about my gifs in ask form, and it really means a lot. like, i genuinely want to cry.

gif makers are not really seen as content creators. that term is usually used for artist and fic writers (to which i am also the latter but have focused much more on my gifs due to their ease in comparison). we’re not really included in those special asks or when ppl make posts about celebrating content. after all, gifs are not really…. ours in the way art or fic is.

but here’s the thing, and this goes along with what you’ve said here - most, if not all fandoms, wouldn’t have structural conversations and meta analysis if it wasn’t for gifs and/or the screenshots that are created. you wouldn’t be able to visualize those smaller moments you might’ve not caught the first time: the details, the facial expressions, the background pieces and more.

the point of a television show is to create a certain tonality with the acting, the writing, the lightening, the music. but what happens when you strip that away? when you produce a scene in another lighting? it allows for a whole new thread of interpretation - and that’s what i love about gifs. it’s not that i even do it intentionally. hell, half the time i just want to gif a scene to challenge myself and see what colors i can produce.

but i can’t tell you how many times i’ve stopped and just stared at gif set because of it’s coloring or because it offered a new perspective i hadn’t even thought about. or it connected dots to two different scenes i hadn’t thought of before. that it allowed me to garner a new way of thinking about a character or sparked my creativity to actually write something about it!!

there are ideas in gifs. are all of them posted with that intention? no. but they provide a visual fan-service with the actual characters faces in a way that you can’t get with art or fic. they change the coloring so that your brain processes a scene differently than what was intended by canon. and that’s something special. it’s something special to read people’s tags, their hcs that a gif set produces, a whole world they’ve just built from several looping images.

by saying all of this, i’m not trying to hype myself up. i personally feel there are far, far better gif makers out there than i. i envy some sets out there because they’re just so stunning, and i know that i could never produce that quality of work.

but it makes me SO HAPPY to know that someone like yourself actually sees it!!! be it in mine or someone else’s, that makes me excited because even if it’s a random scene gif’d, there’s still hard work in the coloring, at the very least. sometimes i almost resent making gifs bc of how little credit they’re given and how easy they are to steal - especially when no one makes an effort to call out those who steal them.

so, with all of that said, this is genuinely the nicest thing i’ve gotten about mine, and i can’t thank you enough for that. i seriously mean it when i say that i could cry about it. gifs don’t seem like a lot - and i guess in a lot of ways they aren’t. but they still take time, and more importantly, they induce conversations in which fandom needs in order to survive (also applicable to screenshots or video).

#x #harringrove #billy hargrove #answered #anonymous

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iwroteinapastlife · 5 years

Text

Change

So I was going through my wips and I found notes for this LadyNoir-centric fic I was planning to write once upon a time. Its main premise was completely negated by season 2, but I still really like the idea, so I wanted to share it with y’all! Enjoy <3

After finishing lycée, Marinette ends up going abroad to study fashion. The night before she leaves, she goes on patrol for the last time and finally tells Chat Noir she’s leaving. He does his best to be happy for her, but Ladybug can see the heartbreak in his eyes.

“I will gladly await your return, my lady,” he says, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. The gesture is so silly and she’s been rejecting it since the first day, but she knows she’ll miss it.

“I’m going to be gone for four years at least, Chat Noir.”

He smiles warmly at her, and she doesn’t think she’s ever seen such a genuine expression on his face. “You’re worth the wait.”

And so, she leaves. She keeps contact with Alya, but aside from that, she really falls out of touch with Paris in general. Most of her knowledge of what goes on comes from news that’s big enough to reach international coverage, and even then, she hardly ever tunes in.

Some months after she leaves, she sees clips on the news of a new hero that’s been named. She’s skeptic at first, because the new hero looks like Volpina, but after a couple months or so, she has to accept that Rena Rouge is real.

Sometime later, another one appears who calls herself Queen Bee. From what she sees on the news, she’s kind of glad she isn’t there working with this one. Chat Noir seems to get along with her well enough though and that’s good.

It’s been a couple years and she hasn’t been paying close attention, so when she hears about Carapace, she’s not even sure how long he’s been around. She’s surprised though, because he’s got the turtle miraculous—Master Fu’s miraculous. She calls him up in a panic, fearing the worst, and is relieved to learn that Master Fu is alive and well; he’s just training the new holder to be the next guardian.

Six years have passed when she finally makes her way back to Paris. After four years of university and two years of an internship, she’s finally ready to go back home and start up a life of her own.

Alya is different—older, more mature—but in some ways, she hasn’t changed a bit. She still runs the Ladyblog (she refuses to change the name, even if Ladybug hasn’t appeared for years), and she’s all too happy to spew everything she knows about the new heroes when Marinette asks. She’s especially proud of an exclusive interview she got with Carapace.

Watching the video on Alya’s phone, Marinette remarks that it looks like she could have a superhero boyfriend if she ever left Nino. To her surprise, Alya smiles with a certain spark in her eyes as she gazes at the screen and says, “He is cute, isn’t he?”

They’re out walking around on a nice day during her first week back when Marinette sees Chloé. She’s a fair distance away—thank goodness—and in the back of her mind, she thinks it strange that Chloé would just be casually hanging out in a public park, but that isn’t what strikes her. What strikes her is the completely genuine laughter Chloé seems to be sharing with the man whose arm is slung over her shoulders. The man with unmistakable red hair.

“That’s a thing?” she asks, unable to tear her eyes away. Alya follows her gaze just in time to see Chloé shove her cone of ice cream into Nathaniel’s face.

She laughs and Marinette is surprised by the lack of disgust or sarcasm or anything like that in her voice when she replies, “Yeah, that’s been a thing for a few years now.”

Years?

Nathaniel leans forward and starts trying to rub the ice cream off on Chloé’s face. Marinette can hear their laughter from here.

Her confusion must read loud and clear because Alya gives her an almost pitiful look. “You’ve been gone a long time, girl. Things change.”

That’s certainly true when she sees Chat Noir for the first time. She’s been seeing pictures of him this whole time of course—she knew he got taller, buffer, grew out his hair—but the cameras didn’t prepare her for this.

He’s still her Chat Noir though, she thinks, because when his eyes finally find her, there is absolutely nothing different in that stupid grin of his.

Except maybe the way it stirs in her stomach.

Ladybug finds herself so unexpectedly relieved to just sit on the Eifel tower and talk with him for hours on end. Being with him was always easy, and she’s so very thankful that that isn’t one of the things that’s changed.

Then the others show up.

Rena Rouge and Queen Bee are almost annoying in how excited they are to meet her. It’s been a long time since she’s had to put on a polite smile for fans, and she really wasn’t expecting to have to do that with other heroes. At least Queen Bee isn’t as obnoxious as she seemed back when she first appeared.

Carapace is a lot easier to interact with, though it’s a little unsettling how he seems to see right through her. He’s got that same insightful gaze that Master Fu has and she doesn’t know how, but she’s absolutely positive that he already knows her identity by the time he shakes her hand.

She soon mentally retracts her earlier statement to Alya, because it’s clear that Carapace only has eyes for Rena Rouge, and her him. It’s sweet how they look at each other, but at the same time, she can’t imagine dating someone who she didn’t know outside of a mask. She thinks that would be endlessly frustrating.

It doesn’t take long at all for Ladybug to start feeling like a fifth wheel—like, minutes. The others have their own established dynamic that she’s not a part of. And…they all seem so close. Way more close than she and Chat Noir ever were. They speak and joke with such ease, almost as if…as if they’re all best friends.

Toward the end of the night, Queen Bee is gearing up to leave when she points back at Chat Noir. “Remember, 8 o’clock. Sharp. Don’t keep us waiting again or we will leave without you.”

He rolls his eyes with an easy smile. “Your threats don’t work on me, Bee. I know he’s nice enough not to ditch me.”

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t be late.”

“I won’t. I’ll see you tonight.”

Then it’s just her and Chat Noir. “Tonight?” she asks.

“Yeah, I have dinner plans with her and her boyfriend.”

She’s confused for a few seconds—trying to wrap her mind around this image of two superheroes and a civilian just casually eating in a sit down restaurant out in public—when she finally understands.

“Oh my god,” she whispers, eyes wide. “You know each other’s identities.”

That easy smile fades from his lips and he just watches her with this almost sad understanding. “Yes,” he says quietly. “We all do.”

“All of you?” His eyes dart away from hers, almost as if flinching, and she hates how disappointed but unsurprised he looks.

“Yeah. All of us.”

She’s shocked, to say the least, but even worse, she feels almost betrayed. And she hates that feeling because she knows it doesn’t make sense. She knows she was the one who insisted they keep their identities a secret. Of course he shared his identity with these new heroes.

“It’s safe, you know,” he says quietly. He tentatively brings his eyes back to hers and she’s so very frightened by the unspoken plea swimming behind them. “We’ve known for years now. If anything, it’s made us more cohesive as a team. And it makes communication a lot easier. Plus if we’re ever stuck somewhere as a civilian, we can help each other out. Like this one time—,”

“Stop.”

He does.

She has to look away from that hurt in his eyes. It’s too calm, too long-standing of a hurt.

She can’t handle this right now. She feels like the ground under her feet has been stolen. “I have to go.”

He doesn’t stop her.

Things from then on are weird, to say the least. She feels out of place fighting alongside this team. An outsider. They’re all nice enough, and they seem enthusiastic to work with her. But they don’t know her. They know each other.

Queen Bee and Rena Rouge don’t understand why she won’t just reveal her identity.

“What’s the big deal?” Queen Bee asks. “It’s not like you’re some wanted criminal or something.”

“I bet you’re totally cool as a civilian!” Rena Rouge says.

Carapace assures her it’s safe, but he doesn’t push it. And Chat Noir just closes up whenever the topic comes up.

It’s just the two of them watching the sunset from the top of the Eifel Tower one night when she asks the question that’s been on her mind for months. “How’d it happen?”

He smiles fondly. “Queen Bee figured me out less than a week after she started.”

“You knew her?”

He nods. “We were best friends.”

The thought seems so foreign to her. She knew Chat Noir was around her age, but she had never considered him possibly being part of her civilian life.

“We didn’t tell the others that we knew for a while,” he continues. “But after it saved us from more than a few close calls, we decided it might be a good idea if everyone knew each other.”

“And the others? Did you know them?”

“Yep. We were already friends.” He laughs lightly. “And I can’t even describe the relief on Carapace and Rena’s faces when they realized they were already dating each other.”

Ladybug feels a pit drop in her stomach. As if she didn’t already feel like enough of an outsider, all of them were already friends as civilians before this even happened. What about her? What if she didn’t even know them? Or worse, what if…

“What if I tell you who I am and it turns out that you hate me?” Her body feels like it’s shaking under her skin, finally admitting her fear out loud. She can feel Chat Noir’s gaze on her, but she keeps her eyes on the horizon.

“I don’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that. Because I don’t hate anyone.” She looks at him then with a frown that asks him to take this seriously. His expression melts into a gentle smile. “Even if I hate you as a civilian—which I don’t—then…” he shrugs, “I’m wrong.”

He hasn’t flirted with her in that obnoxious way he used to since she returned, but looking back and forth between those green eyes in that moment, she knows he kept to his word.

“You really did wait, didn’t you?” she asks.

“I meant it when I said you were worth it.”

“And you still think that’s true? When I won’t even tell you who I am?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “I do.”

Ladybug has to swallow down a lump in her throat. She looks out at the sunset again, unable to handle the heavy weight of that loving green.

“I’ll tell you someday,” she finally whispers as the sun disappears below the horizon. “I’m not ready yet. But I will be.”

She looks up again as he takes her hand and presses a delicate kiss to her knuckles. “I will gladly await that day, my lady.”

Ladybug smiles. She was right; she did miss that.

#ladynoir #miraculous ladybug #love square #djwifi #chlonath

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echoeternally · 5 years

Note

What do you do to get motivation? I have a fic that's been going on for years now. I have the whole thing drafted, I mostly know what I want to happen, though I sometimes get stuck on side details.

Motivation works differently for everyone. I wish I had one universal answer to simplify it, but it really depends on who you are and what drives you.

To help, I can give you some tools that I use to help inspire me, and maybe from that, you can find your answer as well.

Short version for that would be the following:

Books, Media, and Other Stories

Music and Art

Unexplored Territories

Rewinds: Re-read and Remind

Audience

Friends

Research

Creating Goals

Slightly longer blurbs will go under the cut to explain things.

Ok, let me explain some inspiration sources a little more. (And because each section is longer, this now is a very long post.)

Books, Media, and Other Stories: This is usually a good place to start, since you can help engage yourself to your work by getting into other things. Books get a particular special mention because writing and reading go hand-in-hand. This can be extended to comics and manga though. Media is the umbrella term for tv shows, movies, video games, and other forms that entertainment take to portray stories of different kinds. Other stories themselves are meant for the less conventional venues to explore, like articles or history, or even other fanfics as well. Each source has their own story to tell you, and by looking into things, you can find how storytelling flows from each of them.

It doesn’t have to all be good stuff either. Maybe you hated the latest episode of your favorite cartoon or tv series. There was a book you finished last week, and it just completely fumbled the ending into a mess. Perhaps history was duller than dirt. Think you can come up with something better to tell? Great! Then fire up and get into writing how you’d do it better.

Music and Art: Another good spot to rouse creativity. Music and art tend to help bring about some life into you that stoke your creative fires well. Both are broad to describe, but they each have a lot of forms to them, so you should go with what you like to delve into. For example, art doesn’t strictly have to be fan art for fanfics; maybe there was a cool painting you remember from a museum that you wanted to recapture or explore. That can be useful. Same goes for music, as maybe there’s a song’s lyrics that you want to elaborate on, or take into a story of your own.

Personally, I prefer music that doesn’t involve lyrics. Classical music and media soundtracks (movies, video games) are usually super helpful, because they can have dramatic flares to them, and don’t always have people singing with lyrics that you end up associating with the song, which becomes a story of its own. If you can get the right tune that you can relax to, it can then help you want to create a story that goes with the atmosphere. There are all kinds of feelings that songs can stir in you, so experiment and see what you like.

Unexplored Territories: Stories are mostly not quite groundbreaking in what they tell, but rather how they tell it. Nevertheless, there are numerous less explored resources that can be immensely helpful to get into. Most people go for realistic stuff, like cultures that aren’t as primed for media representation. It’s good when you’re doing grounded things that deal with people mostly. For those more engaged in fantasy, though, you’d want to get into stuff that’s not tied for cultures, or extract it from them. Maybe you look up a list of mythological creatures and want to write about something that isn’t the woefully tiring trend of wizards/witches, vampires, werewolves, or clowns. Even changing it up in simple ways, like establishing a difference between sorcerers and witches, or having werewovles, werecats, and werebears all in one story that operate differently.

But don’t be afraid to turn to real life stuff too, especially for less explored spots. I tend to use LGBTQ+ stuff (mostly gays) to both give representation to groups that I identify with, as well as use character dynamics that mainstream media is too afraid to touch. Those two main male characters that are best friends? Make them boyfriends. That lady who seems like she’s super sexy? She’s actually asexual. I’m not telling you to specifically use this stuff, mind you, but this is an example of less explored territories that you can have a little more flexibility with. Heck, it can even simplify the story you tell with minimal changes: Beauty and the Beast’s titular characters are both female. The rest of the story plays out as follows, but it now gains brand new angles to be explored by a small change. That’s part of why I also like shipping and going for “rare pairs” for romance stories: they’re not as explored, and therefore, prime for new content that can be exciting just by existing!

Rewinds (Re-read and Remind): A simple concept, but sometimes you can help stir some motivation by looking back over your old work. Checking back on things can help remind you of what’s going on, or can help create the desire to continue what was going to happen next. It’s basic, but sometimes just the smallest trick to help start some sparks you lost.

It doesn’t have to be a lot, either. Maybe you just wanted to write up this one scene, but you haven’t gotten there yet. Write it anyway, and then work on how you need to get there. While you’re reading over something you wrote, don’t focus on editing, but on the content. Maybe there’s this one line of dialogue that you really loved, and it’s this excellent one-liner that defines your character really well. And then that can make you want to give more to them. When you rewind and recall things you had ideas for, sometimes reviewing them can help you expand on them.

Audience: Has anyone read your stuff yet? If not, ask a few people to do so! An audience can help you immensely, because their reactions help gauge what works and what doesn’t. By giving them content to look over, and interacting with your readers as well, you can end up helping drive yourself to want to deliver more to them. It keeps things flowing nicely! (And this is why writers cry a lot about wanting feedback: it super seriously helps out in a great big way!)

Make sure to look for readers too, not just other writers. Sure, other writers can give you tips and tricks, but they’re looking at it from a similar perspective to yours: the creator’s. For readers, they’re specifically interested in consuming the content, and therefore, have different interpretations and interests for the story. They can give you opinions that other writers can’t quite so easily offer, because they can be more to the point of entertainment engagement. (Writers do typically double as readers, though, so it works out either way.)

Friends: I wanted to add a special distinction for friends as opposed to audience. Friends are nice, but are infinitely less likely to read your work. Online pals, irl friends, whichever you’re comfortable with talking to, they’re still not always the people you’ll go running to so you can grab a new reader. But that’s ok, because you have other ways they can help!

Sometimes, just telling a vague summary of things that are going on in your fic can help you get interested in telling more about it, and to others that might understand it more. Telling your friends puts you in a spot that helps you come up with ways to break down your story to its bare bones, and then what you want to do to help build it up. Another way to go about it would be to listen to stories that they have to tell you. Maybe they’re not writing, but sometimes just interacting with others can help you with developing dynamics that people can share in stories. Or events that are so out there, and you can come up with a way to create a related scenario. (No, I’m not telling you to write your friends…unless they make good characters, lol.) Even just being with friends to take your mind off of things and relax? That helps out too, more than you realize in the moment or immediately after.

Research: It kind of goes with some stuff above, because by viewing media, other stories, unexplored territories, music, and art, you’re doing a type of research. Each one presents a different medium that lets you get to know about them, and the more you look into it, the more you learn.

But the cool thing about research is that it takes you places. Websites like TVTropes and Wikipedia can take you to all kinds of weird places, but that’s what makes them great! You end up learning new topics and angles to explore, and they can help inspire new ideas by doing so, or help you restructure ideas you might think are too cliché or simply don’t work. Delving in deep can be time consuming, but also can lead to major payoffs.

Creating Goals: This one I’m not quite as sure about, because it depends on what you’re looking for out of stories. Still, it can be a helpful boost in its own way, so I’ll include it. Goal creating isn’t just something like, “Today I want to write a sentence.” That’s good to do in general, but I’m talking a little more along the competitive lines.

You’ve got a fic written up, but you’re looking to keep it rolling. Maybe you’re exploring two neglected characters from a movie and giving them a new life. But, guess what? Someone else tried something similar about two years ago. Heck. Are you going to let that stop you though? Heck no! What you do with that is see what that story nets for ratings, and plug away at trying to match them. Don’t overwhelm yourself by trying to outdo them entirely, especially the top ranking stuff. You don’t have to be the best. But you want to compare as well, so see how your content measures up. If they have bookmarked readers that stack to several hundreds, and you can net half after writing about the same characters? That’s pretty great stuff on your part! Even if you don’t have something specific to go up against? Tackle the archives or stories in general! See how highly rated you can get your stuff to be, and duke it out to be visible among everyone else’s content.

This one is really dependent on your personality type, so if you’re not competitive, don’t put stock into it. But if you get fired up about a challenge? Bring it on!

…

There’s a bunch of different avenues that you can look into, and different ways to help bring some motivation and inspiration into your creative mind. These are some suggestions based on angles that I’ve personally attempted, so they may or may not work for you. But that’s ok, because you might be able to come up with more ideas as well.

It just depends on what you like, what you want to do, and what stories you want to tell. From there, just let loose and explore.

But, please do keep in mind to keep yourself (yes, you) in check and feeling good. Tired? Get some rest! Hungry? Go eat! Overwhelmed? Decompress and relax. Know your five senses? Engage them all! Your mood definitely matters as well, and it’s little things that can sometimes hold you back in major ways. Take breaks, and when you come back, things might flow a little easier.

No matter what though, make sure you’re having fun! That’s what really counts in the end, above all else. Do stuff that’ll make you happy, and you’ll flourish in ways you might not even realize. These may be typical lines you’ve heard in countless places before, but they’re pretty helpful.

Again, go for it, and have some fun with the writing!

#askecho #echo's writing advice #writing tips #writing #fanfics #motivational #inspirational #motivation #inspiration #bobosmith01

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today-we-will-survive · 6 years

Text

Dinner Guests

BTS au one-shot

OT7 x Reader Y/N

Fluff

Word Count: 1,148

A/N: This fic is based off my Making Dinner for BTS scenario. I’d recommend reading this as a prologue of sorts to it :)

gif by @hope-film

You seriously didn’t think it would work. Honest to God, when you went to that fan meet on Saturday you wouldn’t have dreamed in a million years that your seven favorite people in the entire world would agree to have dinner with you. Not only were they going to have dinner with you, but they were going to have dinner at your house! And you were going to make it for them!

Even now as you rush to clean your kitchen, you keep replaying that moment back in your mind over and over. You remember that spark of unease that passed over Hoseok’s face when he saw that you were American but then the relief again when you started talking to him in fluent Korean. You remember that same occurrence with each member as you made your way down the line. Then when you got to Namjoon, he greeted you with a “hello!” in English and you stumbled over your native tongue for a sentence before switching back to Korean.

“Oh! You speak Korean so well!” he said to you, resting his chin on his hand and his elbow on the table top.

You nodded furiously, going on about how you’ve lived in Korea for the past ten years and how you’ve been following their journey since the beginning and he just sat there nodding and smiling and letting you ramble and profess your love for them until you had to cut your sentence off so you could finally suck in a breath. Namjoon just laughed at this point and held his hands up.

“Slow down there…?”

Oh shoot, you hadn’t even told him your name.

“Y/N,” you choked out.

And then the two of you went on to have a pleasant conversation. As you continued to talk to him, you clutched the note you had written earlier down at your side, finger tapping against it as you mentally fought with yourself on whether you wanted to give it to him or not. After standing there for several minutes talking, you happened to glance back down the line to meet the irritated frowns of the other fans that had been waiting this whole time to meet the leader of BTS.

“Oh! Sorry,” you said then turned back to Namjoon and thrust the letter you were holding at him. “Here, this is for you. For all of you.”

Namjoon took it, smiling kindly. “It was nice talking to you, Y/N and thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome,” you said then rushed back off the stage and out of the building.

Three days later, you received a call.

Imagine the surprise when you answered and the familiar voice of none other than Kim Namjoon greeted you from the other end of the line. You stared at your phone in shock for several silent seconds wondering if this was a prank. If one of your jerk friends that liked to make fun of the fact that you’re an army had somehow gotten a voice recording and played it over the speaker.

“Y/N? Are you there?”

Now how would your friends be able to fake that? “Uh, yeah,” you stuttered. “Sorry.”

“This is RM from BTS.”

You wanted to scream “I KNOW!” but instead choked out a weak “hi”.

He went on to tell you that he and the guys appreciated the sweet letter you’d written and that he was actually calling because they’d talked to their management and had been given the go ahead to accept your invitation to have them over for dinner some night. Your heart about stopped at those words. You’d written that letter in a moment of desperate adoration during a night of watching youtube compilations of particularly emotional moments. You’d wanted nothing more than to take care of them. To cook them a meal. To watch them be adorable and domestic, going so far as to leave your phone number and the invitation at the tail end of your emotional letter.

You still can’t believe you had the nerve to give it to them. Then again, you never expected to see them again so you figured it was harmless. Surely, they got these over the top letters from fans all the time.

Wrong. At least about the first thought.

Now, here you are furiously scrubbing your stovetop, eyes darting up to the digital numbers on the microwave every few seconds to check the time. They said they’d be over around seven and it is six forty five now. You still have time. And yet…

You turn around to face the rest of your kitchen. Your apartment is one with an open floor plan so your quaint living room sits just on the other side of your smallish island. You spent all morning meticulously cleaning every inch of the apartment, even going so far as to scrub the carpet in the closet in case one of the members decide they want to hang up their coat.

You’ve washed all of your windows, laundered your throw pillows, scrubbed your counters…this being a pretty big feat since the last time you cleaned your place so thoroughly was when you first moved into the place and learned that the person before you was a hippie that didn’t believe in bathing. And that was six years ago.

With ten minutes left before the boys were supposed to arrive—side note: HOLY CRAP!!! ADSKFFGHFDJKHFDS!!!!1!!—you arrange ingredients to make omelettes in a neat row on the counter next to the stove. You’ve seen enough of BTS’s videos to know they enjoy cooking so you’re hoping they like the idea of helping you as much as you think they would.

As you stand there daydreaming about Jin holding a knife in those beautiful hands of his and chopping the bell peppers, the shrill sound of your doorbell cuts through the silence and suddenly you feel panic welling in your chest.

“They’re here,” you whisper, wide eyes darting to the entryway. As you stand there trying to will your jelly legs to move, the bell rings again. Crap, now you’ve made them wait.

MOVE!

You push off the counter and stumble toward the door, eyes sweeping the room for any stray clothes or anything out of place that you need to quickly stuff in closet. You’ve been cleaning since you woke up this morning so of course you find nothing out of place. Then when you turn the corner and see the unmistakable silhouette of BTS’s beloved leader through your fogged glass window, you freeze again, your heart skipping another beat. This night is proving to be dangerous for your health so far and you wouldn’t be surprised if by the end of it, you developed a murmur.

With a deep breath, you step forward again, putting one foot in front of the other until at last you can reach forward and grasp the doorknob in your trembling fist. One more breath and you twist the handle, pulling the door open and coming face to face with seven angels.

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maraudingforflesh · 6 years

Text

Reddie Recs Yet Again

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12160854/chapters/27598224

Most Beloved (41,820 words); there’s no pennywise in this au but this fic still managed to fuck me up 10/10 do recommend

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12450867

Cigarettes in Your Lungs (3,558 words); they shotgun and then make out

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12488572

his name is richie (3,724 words); trans!Richie is the best Richie and Eddie loves his boyfriend

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12460665

Boys (2,136 words); no seriously trans!Richie is my boy and he deserves the world

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12464511/chapters/28398300

of asthmatics and amateur impressionists (3,266 words); yooo these boys love each other something fierce. Features all the greatest hits such as: sharing a bed, cuddling, trans!Richie, and acknowledging that It used Eddie to lure Richie

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12487428

Allow Me to Exaggerate a Memory or Two (7,158 words); 5 times Richie showed Eddie he loved him +1 time he actually said it out loud

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12527308

i brought a stick to a gun fight (3,013 words); 5 times Richie tried to let Eddie know he loved him +1 time Eddie took pity on him

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12538656

so lovable but just troubled (13,675 words); they’re in love and the other losers care about Richie too so he can get over the fact that his parents suck

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12463422

make a wish (6,701 words); Richie’s parents forget his birthday but at least he gets to live out a sixteen candles fantasy

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12399342/chapters/28213053

Beep-beep, Eddie Kaspbrak (28,433 words); Eddie and Richie through various ages

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12476676

never had to walk like this before (8,117 words); it takes way too long for these losers to end up together the way they belong

http://archiveofourown.org/series/848619

The Greater Fool Series (8,611 words); Eddie really loves Richie, but he has no idea why

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12609160

The lockbox (19,063 words); Eddie is ace and he and Richie are just so in love. Yo for real tho I never thought about ace!eddie but I love it

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12631767/chapters/28782099

Seven Stages (8,710 words); Richie is dealing with loss and Eddie is helping

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12663147

no one could save me but you (5,020 words); soulmate!au where Richie’s handwriting is so bad they almost don’t get together

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12745452

It's A Match! (31,421 words); modern!au where they meet on tinder and everyone has baggage

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12698409

i'm gonna sleep cause you live in my daydreams (9,780 words); Richie goes as Eddie’s date to a wedding and also they’re both trans sorry I don’t make the rules

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12663300

Five Times Richie Kisses Eddie and One Time He Doesn’t Have To (5,750 words); the title p much says it all y’all

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12679449

There is a crack right through my heart (17,153 words); I am weak for soulmate!au fics y’all and this one is particularly sweet and amazing

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12708990

Feed Me, Spark Me Up (7,593 words); Richie has some shit going on at home and Eddie is worried

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12721953

A Playlist of Richie Tozier Appearances (2,399 words); YouTuber!au in which Eddie is very popular and his fans love videos featuring Richie

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12403791/chapters/28223454

He Asks How I Am (19,369 words); they meet through an online pen pal program and then again in real life

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12622460/chapters/28759120

my poor heart aches (with every step you take) (7,586 words); they meet at a show Richie’s band is playing and they fall in love from there

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12567628

I wanna be yours (3,707 words); Richie and Eddie normally wear matching Halloween costumes

#reddie #it 2017 #it #fic rec

894 notes · View notes

disarmingly · 7 years

Text

fanfic asks i’m going to post answers in numerical order as i got some numbers asked twice which is cool but i definitely am the idiot who will lose track if i don’t do it in number order! also i’ll throw it under a read-more bc i tend to get rambly and so it all gets quite long! like seriously i apologize i wanted to give it my all but like i may have written too much >_<;;;

i'm gonna preface with: i was confused by these first two because i thought is this the same question but then figured maybe 3 was ff and 4 is not ff? T_T;;;;

3 [ name three favorite writers ]

the truth is i admire a lot of people and not all of them actually post their work unfortunately. however, xiajin ( @j-ungah) is one who does, for which i am very grateful. it's easier though for me to say the THINGS i like best i.e. i really admire people who do humor in…how do i say it? ah well it's best for me when it's fluid within other feelings -- like the lightheartedness makes the punches and ups and downs of other aspects of their stories just shine? i am fairly unskilled with lightness/humor and i am repeatedly and eternally in awe of people who weave that facet of the heart into their narratives so believably. ^^;; i also admire what i think of as a seven-sense experience -- which is to say something about a writer whose descriptions dialogues and everything in-between??? create a thing i feel hear smell taste see, yes, but also a thing i dream, i thing i wake up to or from….that kind of suspension of my reality. ^^;;; which just smacks of escapism i know hahakjsfsdlfds OTL but it is what i like! some other part of why i don't have a lot of names rn is that when i'm focusing on writing i don't read as much fic? and on the flipside when i'm not trying to write then i read like everything under the sun thrice over ^^;;; but i've been in writing/trying to write-mode since i posted This Time Around so…yeah!

4 [ name three authors that were influential to your work and tell why ]

this is really hard! but i left out one writer on my past book rec list so i'll mention him here. john steinbeck! i know that most people/schools/etc tout him for grapes of wrath T_T;;; but like….i tried really hard to like it for a friend who is basically married to that book and i just…couldn't? i tried with of mice and men too but that book is like being beaten up by the written word and no one to patch you up afterward. but. BUT! let. me. tell. you.

east of eden

this book is falling apart like i've read it until it's shreds and i don't wanna give up the copy i have because like…i have so many notes in it? i have dates written down and things i don't remember ever writing or what they reference but getting a new one would be like…idk i can't do it yet. i'll have to soon just bc i carry it around everywhere and i need it but..this book, warrants steinbeck being mentioned in and of itself. if you haven't read it, i cannot rec it enough. like i am not honestly a huge fan of anything outside of fantasy or science fiction but this is my exception. no amount of applauding is going to do it justice. but suffice to say he's got this wickedly good balance of ideas, execution, emotion, and rationale and i just feel so much it is a book that HURTS and yet i kind of…what's it like? it's like if it took me years and years to climb a tree just to see what i can see from the top, then learning to climb back down. sitting under that tree. feeling…like a conversation happened?

T_T i ramble but yeah. john steinbeck's east of eden.

other than that: diana wynne jones, CLAMP (cries forever), cs lewis

6 [ how did writing change you? ]

before i wrote i drew and i painted, which i find hilarious now because lolololol what IS visual art, it’s hard work and talent hybridized with quality hearts (me: /stares at all my fave fanartists for real) kdsfdsfdlsfjlds but yeah uh writing happened because i loved reading. i thought: these things make me feel less displaced in the universe, if only a little. ah well, more to the point, writing in and of itself changes me in every day life almost to a fault: i think a LOT about what i say, even when i’m perceivably rambling. i over-think it too. writing in every-day life makes even the most awkward cat potato (me) better able to hold a normal conversation, which come to that isn’t the MOST important thing, but it is a thing that changed because before writing i basically stood still and tried to hide in my own shadow (unsuccessfully btw.) now i stand very still, hope no one talks to me, but am able to at least talk back if they do ^^;;

if this question means how did ff writing change me otherwise...is it stupid to say on several times, writing ff has saved me? is it melodramatic? probably. i think it does though. i’ve said several times i don’t do wonderfully in-person (ability to converse even so) and it’s painfully true. i don’t know that i believe i ever will. i’m in plainest terms, too afraid. ff writing has given me opportunity to connect with people despite my shortcomings in this way though. sometimes someone says they related to a certain thing or they feel content or a familiar sadness but not in a bad way and that is So Much to me. like can you imagine being in complete darkness and seeing a small light in the sky or the ground or the sea suddenly? that’s what those are.

so writing is helping me change, i hope, from someone who has had the growing fear of being lost forever, to being a little less lost, a little less unworthy. to be fair, writing in and of itself for me is often a lost feeling but those sparks of Found are irreplaceable and whether they happen when i write or when someone responds to the writing, i carry them with me to the best of my ability. because they’re precious. because i need them. and i’m grateful.

writing separate from ff is something i also hope will change me, but i have yet to figure out a way to share that and for now i have a lot of stories on my Intentions to try to actualize, so my side poetry is a sidecar project and that’s okay.

11 [ do you listen to music when writing? ]

yes! in fact i tend to make playlists for my stories when i’m done usually consisting of what i listened to….even if that's a silly thing to do ^^;; i think about sharing them sometimes haha but it’d be linking a bunch of youtube links so idk if that’s dumb sdlkedfsoijlefdjoslk sometimes it’s bangtan and often it’s movie scores i.e. ghibli stuff ....oh and video game osts too!!! a hodgepodge!

12 [ favorite place to write ]

home because i need as much control over my environment as possible. i honestly don't understand how people can get any writing done outside in the city because it's like one massive attention-deficit lmfdlsfdsfkdsjl but kudos to the people who can…!

13 [ hardest character to write ]

LMFSLKFUOIJWFLSK gosh um…i think for me the way i would phrase this is that the character i am most nervous writing??? yoongi. he features predominantly in my writing because i find his transparency about his journey(s) relatable and something to always be grateful for. unfortunately being relatable presents the ever present pitfall possibility of projecting onto someone, which i don't want to do. even when writing him as a character, i still want him to resonate true to the real deal in as much as possible in the world created or the canon suggested. i want to do right by him, very badly, and for better or worse that means i can almost never enjoy writing him because i'm so worried the whole time. the moment of peace is when i either post or delete, but both leave an uneasy feeling if i'm honest, and perhaps that's always going to be true -- with my favorite people and my favorite ideas i guess.

14 [ easiest character to write ]

like 13 i'm cheating and changing this to the character i'm least anxious writing and that would be namjoon. i love him a lot but for whatever weird reason i'm not having heart palpitations every time i have to write a line of dialogue for him. is it because i've watched and read everything of him the most? not really. i think i've re-visited more kookie things out of all of the ot7, but namjoon has a vibe i get, a wavelength i'm on almost all the time and i can't quite explain it since it's not like i'm talking about a person i personally Know. but what i mean is, i feel like i do? he makes me feel comfortable with him at the colloquial level both verbally and emotionally so i don't overthink him as much as i do say yoongi, jungkook, and hoseok -- all beloved but also sharp points of vulnerability for me.

17 [ favorite AU to write ]

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh….well. the way it's phrased it feels like it means ongoing AU??? which would be time and again drabbles supplementary to This Time Around (the initial oneshot).... (even tho from hereon out everything else will transpire BEFORE the current chapter up lololololol way to be confusing right) but if it just means like what universe, period, huh gosh. all your stars are my stars too au probably.

20 [ favorite character to write ]

i CAN'T pick

21 [ least favorite character to write ]

i don't have one unless you count 'difficult' as leas favorite but that's really not true for me s-so...

22 [ favorite story you’ve ever written ]

?_? ahhh the story closest to my heart? tie between all your stars are my stars too verse, and this time around verse. haha i keep picking those two but honestly despite being two very different worlds the pulse is actually the same.

23 [ least favorite story you’ve ever written ]

so far away

still disappointed in myself because to this day i don't know what i can do to make it better i just know it could be and it's so specific i just don't look at it anymore. it is by far the one i've revised the most and i'm sure that's weird haha...but it means so much to me...if it was a friend in my past, this story would be the friend i should have done more for, didn’t, couldn’t, and will regret until i can either come up with an answer or just have to square with said regret and say we don’t always get it the way we want it. hm. i admit when i posted it i hoped i’d be less disappointed with myself over time, but apparently not so.

24 [ favorite scene you’ve ever written ]

T_T no idea … do you have one, anon? /waves white flag/ i guess i'm just cheating through all these asks OTL forgive me but i guess a favorite would be any scene that a reader feels connected with them/resonated personally or moved their feelings into a place or shape they didn't expect but are okay having?

25 [ favorite line you’ve ever written ]

sjflkfesdipokleds /covers face/ im really sorry i just don't…have one…ah...i can’t look too closely...but i always appreciate when readers have favorite lines and copy paste them to me any given time like it’s so nice? ;_; it’s so nice ahhh

26 [ story you’re most proud of ]

since i kinda hard passed the last two with this one huh like i guess if i can qualify this as 'story i consider deleting the least often' that would actually probably be my ONE vmin fic i wrote so far -- sidereal -- lmfdlskfdsfjdsl sidereal -- and it's not that i think it's especially good but more so that i know/ don't question what i'd change about it because it came together start-to-finish very naturally…and that's funny since i had never written them before.

27 [ best review you ever got ]

listen. every review is the best review T_T seriously every review, every bookmark's notes, every ask….(well as long as it's not mean!) ah is a use of someone else's time they did not have to give me but they did and that? that's huge. fanfic is interesting bc it's a thing done for pleasure but unlike say, fanart, there is no readily apparent way to make it marketable? so i think of those words left as review or ask or whatever… as a manner of wealth, if it makes sense, a currency of kindness motivation/encouragement and hope -- that even if i dislike my writing/ find majority fault within it at the end of the day….. there are people out there who don't dislike it too, which is amazing and a relief.

28 [ worst review you ever got ]

hmmm well tech it wasn't a review but like i have gotten a LOT of asks regarding ... .- ...- . -- . + stardrop that range from disappointment that i wrote/published stardrop at all [i knew it would garner some of this but i have haha had more than i thought] to just flat-out regret for having read any of them in the first place. now, as someone who doesn't see any time in the near future where i'll like my own writing, having someone use the words 'regret reading' are….it's upsetting. i feel silly for how much it gets to me but i'm a weak spiral of a person in many ways, so asks like that send me running to hover over the delete button all the time, not just on that story but every story. but i know LOGICALLY it's just an extreme reaction of mine so i don't follow through but yeah my fight or flight response is very much flight lolololol OTL

as for not that uh probably the smattering of asks that came through when i posted 'follow' …one of which asked why i portrayed jungkook so stalkery (as far as i'm concerned, i didn't. he admires namjoon same as some of us admire our own internet idols or whoever)

32 ... .- ...- . -- . [ alternate title for (insert story title) ]

IN fact i almost called it 'equilibrium' but while relevant that seemed too vague...

33 ... .- ...- . -- . [ alternate ending for (insert story title) ]

jungkook wakes up. jungkook wakes up and he's raining, brings his hands to his eyes and can't stop, can't speak, can't anything but rain. jungkook wakes up, curls on his side, and cries cries cries until he falls back asleep.

a moment later, the door to his room slides open. two pairs of eyes worry after him into the dark where they recognize three things: 1. jungkook may never forgive himself; 2. there is nothing either of them can do about it; 3. when the captain named namjoon and the mechanic named yoongi forced jungkook into an escape pod at just the last second, their intention was to save him but the result is not so simple.

with unpredictable caution, taehyung enters the room, jimin's hand at his back, doesn't bother to speak quietly, well-acquainted at this point with how deeply jungkook dreams, how desperately. biting the inside of his cheek, taehyung shakes his head. "what are we gonna do?" after a moment, he glances to his right as jimin brushes past him to draw jungkook's blankets up more securely around him, combs soft fingers through his sweat matted hair and says,

"the best we can."

38 [ do you reread your own stories? ]

other than to proofread? no! i'm still very immature as a writer so the reality is if i go back to read something i have a 99% likely will delete because i see all the flaws and things i want to do better but don't yet have the skill to achieve??? but i know i can't or shouldn't literally wipe everything away Just Because, so…@_@;;;

40 [ which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series ]

time and again drabbles or this time around

46 [ share a scene of a story that you haven’t published yet ]

the night of taehyung's sorting, jimin jumps out of his place at the table to go meet him but a hand circles around his wrist, holds him there. when he looks down, he finds taemin, all calculated cat expressiveness that reminds jimin of yoongi except taemin has a contradictory warmth about him. yoongi is cool to the look the touch and everything until you get inside him; then he's warmer, jimin would dare say, than he himself is, but so few people know it it's hardly worth mentioning. he blinks. frowns.

"i'm going to say hi."

"no."

jimin pulls. taemin sighs.

"do you think for a second they won't use him against you."

it's not a question and for good reason. jimin sits down again, quiet. hollow, learns at age twelve about thinking ahead and expecting the worst.

if only to protect the very best.

truth be known, he doesn't mind being a slytherin. it's easy to just say no one is trustworthy than to say everyone is. but the history of his family creates a whole additional spectrum of uncertainty. 'park' is so common a name one would think it wouldn't be so obvious except jimin's family has been in and out of the wizarding world papers for quite some time. try as they might to undo a history that predates them by decades, it's hard -- no, impossible. slytherin is one thing. heir is another. wealth. jimin is twelve but the world is much older and his so-called peers fall somewhere in-between.

anyway.

what he wants: to say hello to his dearest friend.

what he doesn't want: to bring said friend trouble, no more than he already has.

jimin looks over at taehyung, watches as hoseok helps him with his baskets and...swallows.

it hurts.

around the middle of the second month taehyung goes missing.

it's yoongi that lets jimin know, which makes jimin feel guilty all over: i should have already known.

"did they say when they last saw him?" he asks, rushing around more than he knows yoongi prefers but yoongi is loyal and yoongi is yoongi; he rushes with him, this way and that.

"hobi says yesterday, supper."

biting his lip until it bleeds, jimin experiences what a person always experiences when he knows this might be all his fault: wrenching self disgust, fear, anxiety that crawls around in the chest and twists around the heart like a curse. but feeling bad won't do anything; feeling bad won't find his best friend (who might not want to be your best friend anymore, his heart whispers and it's cold, it's distant, it's terrifying.) yoongi's hand in the sleeve of his robe jerks jimin to a stop so fast he almost trips, except yoongi holds him up while muttering a spell under his breath, the tip of his wand a sharp tap against jimin's strawberry pin (a thing he wears every day in the knot of his tie.) it lights up briefly, blue.

"if i find him before you, that'll happen."

then yoongi is gone in another direction. it makes sense. the school is offensively massive and jimin has never detested it more in his life.

growing up, jimin lived by the sea and taehyung came to visit him every other summer. they collected seashells and named all the fish they happened to find and made castles they planned to live in one day when they were older.

"this one's your room."

holding up a piece of sea glass shining aquamarine, jimin held it over the sun, turned back to face him and said, "then it's yours too."

the room of requirement is for any given thing. for taehyung he needs a place to be found and for jimin, he needs to stop losing.

it takes him two days to find the boy whose sleeping patterns he knows by heart, the boy whose dreams felt often like his own dreams when they were much smaller; it takes him two days and seven hours and forty-one minutes. but he finds him.

when he opens the door, it's some god sized gift to have taehyung meet his eyes.

it's a human sized gift to receive a careful smile.

and it's everything else to crush him in his arms and breathe him in and keep him there, everything to say,

"i'm sorry."

"me too." a pause. "those strawberries were for you," and the way taehyung says it isn't a guilt-trip. it's just him being genuinely regretful he couldn't give them to jimin the way he wanted to but this makes it that much sharper.

jimin bursts into tears.

that summer they go to taehyung's home and jimin eats every strawberry taehyung offers him, which means he gets fairly sick, but he disguises it as something else as best he can and almost doesn't feel so sick at all anyway when taehyung, wide-brimmed straw hat a halo on his head, laughs a sunrise sound and sings a sunset song. it's very windy during their visit, so jimin lays a charm on taehyung's hat to keep it from flying away.

49 [ writing advice ]

1. don’t give up. -- which for me and i guess a lot of people whether it’s art or just life, is truly the hardest. but i am constantly attempting to apply to writing what i try to apply to my livelihood: this idea that the most contemptible thing to do is to surrender. i was thinking about lord of the rings the other day and trying to figure out who i hated the most 8D;;; because my train was stuck and i was viciously trying to not freak out....anyway i kept thinking of denethor...and he’s not you know out and out a villain but he’s just so vile to faramir and on top of that he has clearly given up. he’s got this twisted saccharine doom about him that is somewhat because he’s lost his mind but he lost himself first.

i know this is a really dramatic mental deviation but it’s what i think about ^^;;; the temptation to give up is constant, it’s not a thing that goes away -- which is why i wrote ‘begin’ to address this idea that sometimes the hardest thing is to start, and then to continue in the face of a trouble that has no permanent cure. the moment you give up you lose you, and of course you lose your art. what’s that cliche??? you can’t get something for nothing. i hope that doesn’t come across condescending or bad. i just know for me i have to yell at myself all the time about it, so that’s why it’s first on the list OTL don’t give up, or in the words of bangtan: no no no not today! ^^

2. i used to believe you couldn’t force writing but i think what the more accurate way for me now is to think: i can’t force Right Writing, like it isn’t necessarily good as i throw it down initially and sometimes that’s as good as it’s going to be until i reach a point in that piece that helps me rebuild/recreate/reword the first parts that i KNEW at the time weren’t very good but couldn’t do more with...like perspective within your own narrative i guess, which can’t be gotten without pushing ahead.

so for example, i disliked everything i had with call and answer from the beginning to the end but the only way i got it all done was to write something every day a paragraph or two maybe, just to get draft one done. then i could look at it the next day to proof-read, put one part before another part, etc, etc, the things that went into making it something i could bear to post. ah so basically if it comes a little naturally that’s awesome but i know for me the most frustrating thing is not being able to control when that happens or why, and since i still want to write, this was my ‘solution’ so to speak -- write it, don’t delete it, look at it in an hour or the next day but move forward even if you’re not 1000% sure with it. like i know this doesn’t work for everyone but it is what has at the moment, kept me afloat. it’s not fun but for whatever reason, it is a method i have employed time to time. 3. write what YOU want to, not what anyone else wants you to (unless it’s like a request you’re fulfilling which case that’s up to you of course!) but in general like....i think there’s a misconception that to write big you have to write for everyone but you can connect to a lot of people by telling a very specific story -- they may not dive into every part, but if there is even one aspect of a story i feel recognized by (a moment, a turn of phrase, the resolution, the problem, whatever) then that’s often enough for me. it’s like with people, we don’t get every part of each other -- even the best of friends, or lovers or whatnot -- but the parts we do get mean so much. same for me with stories.

4. give better advice than me lmfdslkf omg

feel free to send other numbers or if i missed one let me know........omg but you probably wouldn’t want to after this huh? lmdsfijfoklfeds ^^;;; wow if you read all that uh....thank you but also i’m sorry ;; lmfdsojklefds T//////T!!!!! <3 ;3;

#haku shut up #fic asks #save me #this time around #so far away #begin #asks #stardrop #time and again #did any of this make sense #i feel dumb but i spent all this time on it hhfdskf #so i post it #OTL #t///t #hakufail #a potato cat #someone take my tags away from me

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withacorkscrew-blog · 7 years

Text

Sherlock: The Final Problem

In which some people fail to understand that “the legends, the stories, the adventures” are not the whole point.

And in which “some people” are definitely not Sherlock Holmes.

For the last couple of weeks I’ve tried to get to coherence, but if Moftiss can’t be arsed to do that, why bother? So, some lightly edited analytical notes on this disaster of a finale.

What was the purpose of the entire intro? Mycroft watches sexy noir crime videos for fun? And has interspersed his sexy videos with family footage to the extent that he is no longer surprised by the segue?

There are 38 fics on AO3 with titles that are some variation on “rarely pure and never simple.” I will bet that at least 30 of them are better than this episode.

“It’s family” “That’s why John stays” - Is Sherlock saying that he loves John and considers him family, or that he has so little trust in/for his family that he won’t discuss family business without a witness?

“In the early days Sherlock was an emotional child.” - If this episode served no other purpose, it was to demonstrate that Sherlock is deeply, deeply traumatized. Has there every been a relationship in his life that isn’t abusive? Is that what drew him to John at first? The simplicity and straightforwardness of John’s admiration and respect combined with John’s understanding/experience of trauma? And if so, how much more tragic is this season and the change in Moftiss’ depiction of John?

Blowing up the flat - why? What was the point? Why was it a necessary impetus for anything? They wouldn’t have gone after Euros otherwise? Please. Gratuitous pyrotechnics, aka this show’s new MO.

Mycroft’s bit about badges and titles and satirical costumes was a momentary sort of spark. Could’ve been political allegory, if it had any context instead of being a sloppy throwaway.

Euros does the same mid-piece pause that Sherlock does when he hears Moriarty on 221B’s creaky stair in TRF, and that nod to deliberateness and continuity was almost painful in an episode that otherwise feels so distant from the show’s strengths.

Mycroft doesn’t want blood on his hands? Mycroft - who is the British government, who is involved with ~plots, who works with assassins and thugs, who controls the secret service, who is about to make a cold calculation about whether to crash a full plane into a city or into the water - can’t have blood on his hands? Is he making a distinction between literal and figurative blood or is this another loss of continuity?

"Is it not in the end selfish to keep one's hands clean at the expense of another's life?” - More ethical threads that could have been interesting if they gave a shit, but that are rendered empty and irrelevant by their disinterest in distinguishing between characters (people?) who are capable of making ethical judgments and those who are not

Just really loving the idea of Moriarty planning his post-mortem chaos by making choo-choo noises into the camera. I would be so much happier watching an hour and half of Andrew Scott hamming it up villainously.

“She’s very clever.” “I’m beginning to think you’re not.” - You know, this could’ve been an interesting thread too. This could’ve been a great storyline. Sherlock rejecting others’ derogatory assessments of him and coming to own his unique set of intelligences? Sherlock confronting abusive influences in his life and recovering his self-esteem? That could have been so universal and rewarding and so well-integrated into the show. Not this show, as it is now, but isn’t that a damn shame.

Is this what they think of female genius?

This whole arc would have been so much better if John and Mary's love had been believable.

This is a really fucking shitty thing to do to Molly and a really shitty last place to leave her.

“Emotional context...it destroys you every time.” NO ACTUALLY IT DOESN’T. COULD DO WITH A BIT MORE HERE THANKS.

Why is Sherlock so angry as to destroy the coffin? Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of reasons why. Plenty. Euros has pushed him to an emotional breaking point, he’s done something cruel (though ethically justifiable) to someone he cares about, he’s spent the last few minutes contemplating the possibly imminent death of someone he cares about, he’s under intense stress, he’s failed to make a correct deduction about Euros’ reach, he’s failed to make a correct deduction and that always influences his sense of self - there are lots of reasons. But which one is it? Because I can’t tell.

Sherlock’s choice to shoot himself is clever and emotional and he knows it, or he wouldn’t have counted down to it, and it’s that combination that makes him the best Holmes sibling. Another thread that would have made for incredible stories, if this show was still in the business of telling those.

“This is where I get off.” Oh, Moriarty, you were such a delicious villain. And I have closure about you. Bless.

Euros....is the child on the plane? Was the child on the plane? What? What is this? What is happening? Sherlock calls it “the perfect metaphor” So, how did they get audio?

Someone reallllllly needed to buy the Holmes parents a book on raising gifted children.

John has a shock blanket. Greg says Sherlock is a good man. That’s some nice symmetry, in the most basic possible sense.

Lestrade is going to take care of Mycroft - at least there might be some happy shippers in the world tonight.

"Sherlock? Well? You were always the grown up. What do we do now?" - Wow Sherlock was the most abused. That is such an odd conclusion to leave us with. Probably not the one they intended, but I am at a loss - and I think a reasonable one - for what Moftiss did intend, beyond having a laugh amongst themselves.

Are these Holmes family violin jams like........gonna be a thing now?

“The desperate, the unloved, the persecuted” have never had a place in 221B. (Or on the show, other than as victims and villains.) One of the core premises of the show is that Sherlock is exponentially more interested in the clever, intelligent, mysterious, and challenging, that he wants an intellectual puzzle rather than an ethical or emotional one. How on earth could Mary conclude that 221B was a place for the downtrodden, when Sherlock could never be bothered with much more than writing them off as low IQs with limited life expectancies?

Except, oh wait: these characters are completely inconsistent and nothing makes sense and there are no rules and, therefore, no point in being invested.

Things to watch:

Questions to which we will probably never have answers:

WHO SENT MARY'S FUCKING TAPES? We still don’t know. They’re still coming. Moriarty’s dead, Euros is incapacitated, Mary didn’t have friends or family... Does this show care about logic anymore? At all? (Okay, we maybe have an answer to that one)

What happens to Molly?

What happened to Anderson and Donovan?

Remember in the first episode where it was intimated that Anderson and Donovan were boning? What happened to that?

What happened to Anerson’s wife?

What happened to Lestrade’s wife?

What happens to Lestrade?

Why did they introduce that lady detective in the first episode of this season?

John got shot but had no injuries. How?

Presumably he went to the hospital and was out of commission for some time and childcare arrangements needed to be made and Sherlock probably would have come to visit and just...no?

When not serving as an unusually active 221B tchotchke, where does Rosie go and who takes care of her?

John and Sherlock got blown up and thrown through a second story window with no apparent injuries. How?

What was that high tech cave that Sherlock was lurking in in TST? Does he just have a bunch of caves around just in case?

What was the point of reminding us of Irene Adler?

What was the point of Mycroft’s interaction with Lady “here’s my private number” Smallwood?

“I had no one” and then the flash to Nemo Holmes’ grave - Is Nemo Holmes someone or something Euros loved? Or just a convenient segue to this codebreaking problem that Sherlock cracks immediately and that doesn’t engage the audience at all? Is there any point in even having this kind of puzzle when they haven’t made any attempt to follow through on audience engagement in the mystery since TRF?

Do you think that after TRF Moftiss just discovered a whole new level of visceral pleasure in fucking with their fans and that’s been their underlying motivation for the last two seasons?

Are we supposed to think that Euros was the child on the plane? Euros, the plane....seriously, what the fuck is going on?

If John is chained to the bottom of the well, how can Sherlock have saved him by throwing a rope down, which John then apparently climbed?

Are they even trying for continuity, if they’ve lost track of someone being chained up vs not within a five minute sequence of the same episode?

What was the point of this episode? Why did they make it? Why?

The actual unedited last note I made about this show:

This was dumb and that last frame was stupid

#sherlock #sherlock s4 #sherlock spoilers #tfp

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