#this ENTIRE time every single time when you copy pasted your brain another YOU was left behind to die. just like it happened at the end | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

unholyplumpprincess · 2 years

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Friend!! I was wondering what kind of comments would go good on a chapter for a fic? I wanna leave some on the fanfics I read, but mostly I can't form proper sentences?? Like mostly my brain just goes 'hdisjd yes good' but I don't want to comment only that in case the author just thinks I'm being repetitive :( do you have any tips on what would be nice to hear??

ABSOLUTELY!!! Sometimes it's really hard to come up with anything in your brain besides 'AYO?????????????' and I am here to help!!!!

I'll bullet point list this too so it's easier to read for people as well :D

This is help for people who want to comment on people's fics (or art!) but need help figuring out what to say/how to find what they want to say!

What should I tell a writer when I have no words?

• All writers have a different Style of writing, headcanons, and something we do that you love! What's the thing that keeps you coming back to Our writing in particular? Is it the way we write your fav character in the fic? Is it how you can relate to a certain thing? Maybe you love the inner thinking/monologuing that the pov of the character is doing?

Whatever it is? Tell us!!! My biggest thing for artists alike is to zone in on the thing they did in a piece that I LOVE and then running with it. A typical comment from me might be a staircase of things such as "The way you do facial expressions in every piece you do is absolutely Phenomenal! You can really feel the love and closeness these two have based just on the expression alone! Your colors you chose and experimented with ended up SO cool! Wonderfully done as always!"

Now lets unpack how to do this for writers! Pick the thing you loved, and FOCUS on it. Did you love how they wrote a Certain scene? Talk about that scene and Why you loved it!

Or did the whole fic just do it for you and you can't pick a fav scene? Hell, tell us that too!!!

~Rest under the cut~

Can't find the right words? Even just copy and pasting some sort of dialogue used or even a scene and then going like '<-This scene of xyz??? Lost my FUCKING mind over! This was my FAV bit!!!!!'

Telling a writer like 'hey I love your work! Can't wait to see more!' is all well and good and you'll probs get a 'o ty!' but if you want us to lose our shit? Be Specific on what drove you to love that specific fic!

I really want them to write more of this fic, should I tell them?

• Now I've talked to quite a few writers and we all seem to agree. If you Just leave a comment of 'Where's part two?' or 'Part two when?' we will never. Ever. Want to write a second part or continuation.

Want to let them know you'd love to see more? Follow the steps above and butter them tf up. Tell them every bit you loved about the fic- new or old. Every single thing that made you bananas and why. And then you can follow it up with a nice 'If you ever decide to make another part to this, count me the FUCK in!'

Will it guarantee another part? No! But you will probably be that bitch we think about if we ever continue it. I've had a few people I'll literally @ and be like 'okay bc i loved ur comment sm this part 2 is JUST for u bitch ilysm ty for inspiring me'. It happens! Sometimes it takes just a little bit of niceness :D

But like. It's like- let's say you baked someone a cake. They eat the Entire cake- NOT A SINGLE WORD SPOKEN ON IF THEY EVEN ENJOYED IT. No mmm's. No aaaa's. Nothing. And after finishing it all they turn to you and go 'Kay can I have a second cake now?'

Meanwhile if someone like moans and is complimenting your cake and how good it was and then goes 'Yo if you ever make another cake???? Let me know bc HOLY SHIT THAT WAS GOOD!' you'd have a totally new reaction of feeling appreciated!

Are keysmashes okay?

• Absolutely!! Honestly some of my fav comments I get are the ones going 'werioufheriufgh??? erougheriuheirfghaweklhjfn!?!?!?!! Dude holy shit I loved this' bc boy I GET IT! Sometimes the words fail you and all you can do is scream.

But also, don't be afraid to comment Multiple times on a fic either! Don't have the words Right Now? Not a prob! Keysmash and then a week later come back and be like 'Okay I know I commented already but I just HAD to read this again and HOLY SHIT' I promise you that feels Amazing when someone TELLS you how many times they came back!

Or! Do you want to make sure your comment is meaningful? Pop open your notes app or whatever you type on and re-read the fic beginning to end and write down Every Part that you loved so you can make sure to tell the writer What parts and What specifics you loved! Or even don't re-read and just on your first read have an app open so you can keep track :D

What do you personally love to hear on your fics?

• I put my heart and soul into every thought behind a character. Being autistic, I analyze characters with heightened vision and tear apart their character from top to bottom. Every headcanon, every dialogue, every written body language, every written inner monologue is analyzed Thoroughly to make sure they are in character as much as possible. With an explanation around it.

With that being said, people saying I write characters just how they imagine or accurately. Or even just telling me some line made you horny/gasp out loud or any sort of emotion? Make me Feral with joy.

Also wanna tell me you got wet/hard over a fic? Oh fuckin mama I eat that shit alive. I don't need a long comment to make my day, in fact I honestly LOVE tags where they're spaced apart thoughts all going to basically 'OMGGGGGG'. Or like 'the part where x did this thing??? I am SWEATING' makes me smile SO much! Just those Little things being said.

Now I'll tell you what, one of my favorite people to get a comment from? My mutual, and beloved mutual writer, Nix. She will comment on a fic from Beginning to End and point out specific scenes and then her feelings behind it. NOTHING makes you feel more appreciated for baring your mind and soul than her, on god.

I hope this helps you even a little bit!!! If you would like, like a template or smth or maybe certain comments that I can copy and paste to give you a visual of what rocks my socks personally, I'm happy to!!!! But everyone is different, BUT everyone is the Same in wanting to feel appreciated and like their art and time was worth it making just One person go bananas and show their appreciation!!!!

#princess talks #writing advice #comment advice #writing #comments

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writerquil · 5 months

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you genuinely expect us to believe you read case studies and scientific studies when you refuse to read a tumblr ask?

you have no idea what youre talking about at all, and you refuse to listen to anyone who disagrees with you because you've made up your mind about us without even hearing what we have to say and provide to a conversation.

you're so stuck in the toxic sludge that is your little puritanism cult and it shows

first of all when did i ever claim to read scientific studies lol, most of the things i know are from extremely basic research.

and no i literally just dont care enough to argue online, i did hear what u had to say the first time then replied with my own saying, including the fact that im not interested in debating or arguing, to which u replied with an entire essay

nothing has changed, i dont feel like arguing or debating because im never going to agree with u guys, ive had these arguments more times then youd think and you all talk the exact same and bring up the exact same points that im just so bored of refuting and have to delete right after theyre finished plaguing my profile.

"I brought up different points" you didnt, because although i didnt read your entire essay, i did skim through it in hopes u would have some points that i havent heard before or that i havent refuted before and you didnt.

so i have already listened to be people who disagreed with me, when they moved on, another came along, i refuted all their points, they said i was in a toxic cult (sound familiar?) and moved on, then another came along.

i dont feel like explaining my points again and again, this isnt some special little thing where ur the chosen one about to prove me wrong and im going to be like "omg ur right."

and before you say "how will u ever agree if u dont try" ive seen ur point of view before and i TRIED to put some effort into understanding ur points but when all of your points can easily be knocked over, its difficult

"then knock all my proves over, prove it" NO, because ive already done that way too much, so unless u want a copy and pasted paragraph ive already sent to five other people

your little "im the calm and collected one who explains all of these points in this organized, long way" is used by every single one of you, and when i explain to u that i said im not interested in a debate u get angry, just like the rest.

so once again, so it sticks to ur brain, ive heard the same points too many times by you all, frankly i dont feel like refuting them over again, you want an argument, or "conversation"? go somewhere else.

and before u reply with "ha im not fucking reading all that, if u didnt read mine why should i read yours", you did, you read this entire thing.

#proshippers dni

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imhereforscm · 10 months

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Update??? Please 🥺

Omg, baby, have a seat and take a breath🤣🤣💕💕💕💕💕

(adding a cut, because I'm rambling and I don't want you all to suffer with my long ass post)

Would you like some dessert?? I've got some cake in the fridge.🙃🩷 And if I'm not mistaken, I also got some ice cream too and a lot of chips and chocolates AND BASICALLY MY HOUSE IS ICHTHYS' HEAVEN WITH ALL THAT JUNK FOOD LMAOO

Zyglavis would definitely lecture me on my eating habits乁⁠[⁠ ⁠◕⁠ ⁠ᴥ⁠ ⁠◕⁠ ⁠]⁠ㄏ Joke's on him though. I don't eat unhealthy.... I don't eat at all!(⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡ (Don't copy me. I don't advise it.)

I haven't been online much recently, because something just ended in my life (nothing to worry about. Don't worry. I feel like this every summer.) And I'm adjusting to the new thing.

Also, I finished a novel and I've given it to some people to read it and tell me their thoughts on it. It's my first actual novel, so I don't think this one is gonna be published. But you never know what life may bring, I guess!🙃🩷🩷

Recently I also read over another novel I've written and....... I'm not content💀💀, so I want to rewrite almost the entire thing sometime. (That actually made me feel a little discouraged and down about my writing for some time and I'm still recovering from writer's block from it. I had high hopes for that novel and turns out, every single line I've read made me wanna pull my hair out. But there are scenes in there that hold great potential, so it just needs reconstruction.)

AND I'm in the middle of writing the first draft of yet another novel. Idk how that's gonna go. I have a great idea in my head, I just need to get it on paper. I dropped it for some time, because I was loosing track of my characters a bit, but now I've picked it up again.

But that doesn't mean I'm ignoring your fics🩷🩷💜💜💜💜💙💙💙❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 Every fic I have received will be written. I'm just asking for a little patience, because my brain's still recovering from writer's block and for forgiveness from everyone who's been waiting for months to see their requests published.💖💖💖💖💕💕💕💕💕💕

These past few days, my writing was odd. Like- I wanted to write, yet I couldn't get myself to sit down and do it and when I finally did it, I couldn't really see myself in my writing. It didn't feel like "me" and I wasn't content with many of the things I've written and now I've got a bunch of "rolled up and thrown in the trash" fics.

I'm really happy to be here and interact with all of you and write and share the things we all love together💜🩷🩷💜💜💜💜💜 So don't worry! I'm not leaving! All this is just a little dramatic episode of my brain and it'll get better very very very soon!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ (Also, a certain Leon request I received this morning is actually very interesting. I've never written about this topic before, so I'm excited to try my hand at it😏😏)

But now it's time for me to share something with you😌✨✨✨

Does anyone remember when I said I was making these two playlists?:

I made them public for anyone interested😚😚😚 The songs I picked mostly fit the vibe I think each department has. So you might find that the lyrics don't match a lot or that the gender of the person the song talks about doesn't match your gender. So rest easy! I picked them for the vibe!

My username on Spotify: (iconic profile pic. I know.꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡♡⁠˖⁠꒰⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠⑅⁠꒱)

(please, ignore the playlists named "(ignore)" lol. I named them that, so that they're ignored.)

I love you all!!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#scm #star crossed myth #scm music

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goingmorry · 3 years

Text

[One Piece Headcanons] OP Boys -> when some guy asks them if you're single

Part One | Part Two

Characters: Luffy, Sabo, Killer, Shanks, Mihawk

Tags: reader-insert, gender-neutral reader, overprotective, possessive, jealousy, violence

Author’s Note: Thanks for all the likes and reblogs. I appreciate all the love! 💖

MONKEY D. LUFFY

Easily gets distracted. The guy asks about you, and all Luffy can think about at that moment is spending time with you.

The question doesn't process in his head until the man asks it several times.

And even then, Luffy misunderstands.

He doesn't mean to make the other guy jealous, but he so does.

"You're their Captain, right?" the man addresses the straw hat pirate.

"Yup! I'm Luffy, the man who will become the Pirate King!"

"Right... I was wondering, y'know, as their captain... Are you aware if they have a special someone?"

"They? Oh - they're amazing, aren't they!" Luffy compliments you, ignoring the man's question, "I'm actually supposed to be helping them with their training! Maybe I should do that right now, huh?"

"No - That's not what I asked. I mean, do you know if they have a special someone?" The man attempts to steer the conversation back to his intended topic.

"Special... someone?" Luffy's eyebrows furrow in confusion before comprehension sets in, "Ah, I get it! Their crew! Their crew is special to them!"

The man looks at Luffy in disbelief, "No! That's not what I meant-"

Before the guy can get his point across, Luffy extends his rubber arms to fling himself across the island, directly crashing into your unsuspecting body.

"Luffy - what!?" you shout in surprise.

Luffy responds by wrapping his arms around you in a full-body hug, his signature 'shishishi' laughter ringing in your ears.

From across the island, the man observes your exchange with the straw hat pirate, disappointment and jealousy etched into his face.

SABO

He’s an absolute troll.

Messes with the guy by pretending to be clueless.

Ends up acting like a seemingly psychotic, overly possessive boyfriend. He's not. Trust him.

"Are they what now?" Sabo fights off the smile threatening to spill from his lips.

"Are they single?" the man repeats for the third time.

"Sorry, I can't hear you," Sabo motions to his ear, giving it a gentle tap, "I have trouble hearing. Can you please repeat that?"

The man's eyes soften in pity as he repeats the same question for the fourth time.

"Is who single?" Sabo asks again, appearing to make every effort to understand the guy's question.

The man clarifies another time. But before he can tell the blond Revolutionary to forget about it, Sabo perks up in feign recognition.

"Oh! Are they single?"

"Yes! You got it," the man exclaims, satisfied that his question finally got through.

Sabo taps his chin in thought, "Not that I know. Though I heard rumors that the guy they're with is a really fearsome man. Not someone you want to mess with."

The guy deflates at Sabo's response, "Are they now? They a pirate or a Marine... or something?"

"Mmm... Something like that," Sabo's fingers tap against the table in front of him, gloved hands obscuring the flames beneath his fingertips, "Ever heard of the Revolutionaries?"

The man nods in acknowledgment. "Rumors and the like. Never seen them myself, though."

"Same here," Sabo says absentmindedly. He motions for the other guy to lend him an ear, leaning over for a whisper.

"I would watch myself if I were you. Don't want to anger a group of strangers you don't know much about."

The man flinches away at Sabo's warning - or threat; the man wasn't sure. Sabo gives him a friendly smile in return, convincing the other guy that it may have just been a well-meaning warning between two close friends.

"G-gotcha. Thanks," the guy abruptly stands up, motioning toward the exit, "I better get going."

"It was nice to meet you, friend," Sabo calls out, his friendly smile morphing into a sinister one at the man's retreating figure.

KILLER

The definition of cool, calm, and collected.

Immediately becomes suspicious of the other man for asking about you.

Puts-thinking-cap-on.gif.

What does this strange man want with you? Why did he ask Killer in particular? What would this man do if you were already taken? Would he still try to pursue you?

Spends some time pondering but concludes that action needs to be taken.

Investigates your unwanted suitor and discover their malicious intentions.

In the end, Killer's cautiousness pays off.

Any chance they're single?

"..."

The Supernova's silence disturbs the other man, his eyes settling on the crowded room in makeshift comfort.

The sound of a gruff voice startles the guy into focus, body twitching in anxiety when he looks into the Massacre Soldier's expressionless mask.

"I don't know them," Killer says with finality.

It was impossible to read the Supernova's true disposition. His body appeared relaxed enough; arms splayed out in front of him in a civil manner. If it weren't for Killer's daunting presence and notoriety, the man would think that this blond-haired guy was your average pirate. For now, he had no choice but to conclude that Killer was telling the truth.

"Okay... Never mind then," the man awkwardly responds, leaving the tavern in displeasure.

- - - - - - - - - -

A masked figure looms over the inn you were resting at, sharp blades glinting under the moonlight. The Massacre Soldier himself was on guard tonight, eyes trained on the familiar body of the man who disturbed his peace earlier in the night.

Before your unwanted suitor can enter the lodge, Killer pulls him by the lapels, swiftly dragging the man into the back of the building - out of sight from prying eyes.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Killer says, muscled arms encircling the man's throat in warning.

The man clutches at the knife tucked underneath his coat and wildly swings his weapon at his assailant.

With little effort, Killer disarms and knocks out his opponent, searching the man's unconscious body for clues to his motive. Killer pulls out a slip of paper from the man's pocket and unfolds it. There's no mistaking it - a copy of your bounty poster - the price of your head neatly printed underneath your name.

"Tsk, should've known you were up to no good."

Another body to add to the Massacre Soldier's list.

SHANKS

Proud boyfriend™ alert.

He loves to gush about you. The fact that someone recognizes how beautiful and amazing you are - he's thrilled.

Shank's constant praise of you begins to wear down on the guy; he gets the message that the red-haired pirate is implying - to leave you alone.

Shanks flashes a lazy grin at the man beside him; attention renewed at the mention of your name. "Gorgeous brain and body, what's not to love, aye?"

Your potential suitor nods in agreement.

Shanks looks past the man and makes eye contact with you. You were happily conversing with his crew, enjoying their company at the local tavern while in town to replenish some supplies for the upcoming journey.

The red-haired pirate winks in your direction, and you fluster under his flirty gaze. Shank's eyes twinkle in amusement at your shy demeanor.

The man across from Shanks looks back and forth between you and the red-haired pirate; his mouth opens and closes at the implication of your relationship.

"That one's mine," Shanks answers the man's unspoken question, waving over the barkeeper for another round of drinks, "But I'd love to tell you more about them."

DRACULE MIHAWK

The only classy one.

Doesn't take offense to the question, doesn't beat around the bush, and doesn't threaten the other guy for asking about your relationship status.

If the other man has bad intentions, Mihawk will know. And he will take action.

His entire being is enough to intimidate most people, after all.

A-are they single?

Mihawk casts an uninterested glance at the man standing a few feet away from him.

Nowadays, there were only a handful of people who dared approach the World's Greatest Swordsman - the Marines and Shanks.

Rumors were circulating that the former Warlord had been traveling the seas with you - that the normally lone-wolf pirate had acquired a companion to accompany him in his seafaring journey.

Oh, how clueless they were.

"Yes, we're in a relationship. Them and I," Mihawk states, taking a refined sip from his wineglass.

"I-I see. Thank you," the man bows before briskly running in the opposite direction, away from the black-haired pirate's piercing golden eyes.

The next day, Big News Morgan publishes your relationship with the infamous pirate for all the world to read.

Mihawk's eyes widen imperceptibly at the newspaper clutched in his hands.

Maybe this is for the best, he thinks. If there's anyone who can keep you safe, it's him.

#one piece #monkey d. luffy x reader #sabo x reader #killer x reader #shanks x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece imagine #one piece scenarios #one piece x reader #mywriting

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fanficwritersinterviewed · 2 years

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ITWW, Bunnywest & DiscontentedWinter

<<This post is a part of a longer conversation about fanfic writers, how they view fanfic, and their writing process. All views are the fanfic writers’ own, and whatever fanfic they choose to write is entirely their own decision. No judgement value will be placed on fic content. These conversations are meant to provide insight for other fanfic writers in whatever stage they are at in their writing life>>

In the Weeds Wednesday

(with Bunnywest & DiscontentedWinter, @bunnywest & @thisdiscontentedwinter)

Walk me through your process. When you write a fanfic how does it progress? Are there notes? Outlines? Vibes? Wine? How does it go for you? B: HAHAHAHAHAHHA notes. I think I can reliably say that we are both pantsers. For me, it can start with a single image or scene, and I sort of build off that. I'm always convinced I will never have another idea and then my brain goes "warlord peter virgin bride stiles arranged marriage with werewolves,” and bam, I’m off. We had one memorable collab where the suggestion was made at lunchtime, and by the time I finished work at 5pm, two-thirds of it was written and they were saying "Hurry up you’re writing Peter!" and Winter was copy/pasting while I was still typing. It's a quick and dirty process!

DW: Yeah, with me it tends to be one scene, and suddenly I've built a 60k fic around it. One single plot bunny, and I'm off! I tend to write and post a chapter a day, no slowing down. With a collab, which tend to be shorter, we write the whole thing before posting. We have a Discord conversation, and pick which scenes we're doing, and then read through at the end to make sure we haven't contradicted each other, basically. But we have pretty similar tastes, and pretty similar ways we view the characters, so I don't think there's ever been any clashes or anything. And yes, we are both very much pantsers.

Okay. So. For those (ahem ME) that tend to write short and can't conceive of writing long let alone long AND fast, how does that happen? B: Honestly, there are days where five hundred words is a win because every one of them is like drawing teeth, and other days 5k is no problem. There's no rhyme or reason to it. I mean, I have the opposite problem. Write short? I don't know her.

DW: Same. I started what I thought was going to be a 10k hurt/comfort fic once. It wound up at about 60k, because it turns out that when you put that much hurt into a fic, you really, really can't shortchange the characters, or the readers, on the comfort part. It just wouldn't have felt right to finish it up any earlier. When I'm writing and posting a chapter a day, my house is even more of a mess than usual. It's 6pm and I'm still in my pyjamas from that morning. I have zero work/life balance in the middle of a fic, which is why I don't do them that often! Because I tend to do nothing else. It's like doing Nanowrimo every time. Except, ironically, I've never finished Nanowrimo.

B: I am a morning writer - if I can start in the morning I can go all day. If I have to adult and do other stuff first? It's much harder.

DW: I'm an afternoon and evening writer. Which works great when we're cowriting! You come back to the doc, and it's grown! Basically we have a Discord chat each day, and figure out where we want the story to go.We have a vague idea of a starting point, and a few things that will happen in the middle, and an ending point. Whether we stick to it or not is another story! We'll just dive in and see what happens.

B: When we collaborate we have a twelve-14 hour window of productivity. And we both think the other one has written more and nobody wants to be the slacker on the group project. So, we chat in Discord and side comments as we write, and sometimes we tweak and play, but a lot of the time we just jump in when the cursor blinks in the same spot for too long which either means they're stuck, or the dog has escaped. Could be either.

Do you use an outline? DW: I don't think I've ever plotted a fanfic in my life!

B: [With Original Content] We normally have a plot point doc.

(image: spare, stream of concious notes for original content novel)

DW: You can see how sparse it actually is! Because usually, despite our best intentions, we end up doing most of it in Discord conversations. I should point out that I normally forget we have a plot point doc, and disregard it entirely. Then Bunny reminds me we have a plot point doc. And I realise that every fantastic idea I just came up with, she already had several weeks ago.

B: Or I go "Have you read the doc? You just come up with the same ideas twice.”

Where do you get inspiration when the creativity tank is low? Is it ever low? You two seem like runaway trains when it comes to generating words. B: Oh it definitely runs low, which is when we leech off each other and sometimes the characters do what the hell they want, and do the work for you.

DW: Yeah, I used to think that you needed a Big Idea to write a book, but I've decided that no, that's not true at all. What you need is characters that readers will connect with, or just a fun way of telling your story, and readers will enjoy it. So I think as long as you know your characters, and you make them the heart of your story (which is especially easy in romance) then the rest of the story will build around that.

Is that true in both OC and fanfic do you find? The characters lead and the stories follow? B: Absolutely true. If your characters don't evoke some sort of reaction in readers, nobody will care what happens to them.

DW: I like to let the characters drive the plot. I think you get a stronger story that way. You can have the most intricately plotted story in the world, but if the characters are cardboard cutouts, nobody will care. Character is way more important to build on.

B: This! I've read fanfic that is technically and grammatically perfect and about as interesting as watching paint dry, because there's no engagement. The characters are being moved around but they haven't come to life. Give me a fic where the author's note reads: "Well Chris Argent wasn't even meant to be IN this chapter, but he insisted.” Then I know this story is gonna have some life to it. And god, give me flawed characters! I don't want ‘perfect'. I want someone who talks out their ass when they're upset, or doesn't check with their significant other when they do a thing.

Usually I ask people to say something nice about their own writing, but how about this time, since there’s two of you, say something nice about your own and each others’ writing. B: Oh, Winter is the goddess of hurt/comfort. She can squeeze your heart in her fist with half a dozen words and you'll thank her for it and ask for more. But then she'll make it right again and it's gorgeous. I'll never recover from “Sanctuary” or “Painted Wooden Letters.” I remember you commenting on the “Gentleman” verse and almost passing out from hero worship.

DW: I love the way that Bunny can take a trope and make me utterly invested in finding out what happens next, like it's the first time I've ever read an arranged marriage fic, or fated mates! I think the first fanfic I read of hers was the “Home” verse, and I got excited every time there was an update. She reeled me in, hook, line, and sinker! And bonus points for the way she writes snarky Peter Hale. All the snark, all the time!

Okay, so that was easy, but you still need to say something nice about yourself. DW: Oh, crap.

Yuuuup. That’s everyone's reaction. B: Um....Okay. I also think I do pretty well at snark and dialogue. And I like to add a twist to the usual tropes, and I think I do pretty well at that, too

DW: I love the reactions I get from readers, and knowing that I made their day a little brighter by sharing my stories with them! I don't have any other superpowers, but that feels a lot like one!

B: "People like my stuff' doesn't count, lol!

Hahaha! Okay, yes. THANK you I was gonna let it slide but… DW: Ha! Alright, how about I think that I'm pretty good at pulling a bunch of plot threads together in the end and getting the landing right!

B: Oh you absolutely are - it's almost like you've planned it!

DW: If only! I think I do at least 90% of my work in my subconscious. For me, it's a little like putting a jigsaw puzzle together when you don't have the picture on the box. It gets clearer as you go along! But I do think that even though I say I'm not a plotter, it's just that most of the plotting happens in the back of my mind, and it's there when I need it. And when you're finished, you look at it, and say, "Oh, now I see it!"

B: That is actually a thing by the way. What you think is a random detail turns out to be essential three chapters later and you're like "Good job, past me!"

What advice can you offer to the newbie writers out there, or the ones that are struggling with it? B: I'd say write because you enjoy it, write what you want to write, and tag, tag, tag! Nobody wants to cause someone to have a dissociative episode because they stumbled across unlabelled non-con. Also, don't underestimate the enjoyment your fic gives to other people. Oh! And a tip for young players: change your doc colour to a soft blue and save your eyes

DW: The best thing about wanting to write is that the more you do it, the better you get at it. But also, try not to judge the value of your writing on kudos or hits alone. It can be hard, especially in a bigger fandom, to feel like anyone is reading your stuff at all. Just remember your first and most important audience is yourself. You're writing for you first.

B: Ooh yes. don't compare yourself to anyone else, because sometimes those numbers are a big fat lie. I've read fics that are the most popular out there and gone...eh? I don't love it. And I've read things with far less kudos and been 😍

DW: Exactly this!

#fanfic writers interviewed #in the weeds wednesday #bunnywest #discontentedwinter #fanfic #fanfic writing

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studythenight-away · 4 years

Text

Hello! As finals season (aka 5-research-papers-due-in-a-week season) dawns on many of you, I thought I would share the process I used to write papers in college. This made writing long research papers much less daunting (but can also work on shorter papers). I really hope this helps some of you who feel stuck. Especially during these ridiculous times, when you're stuck at home and might have other uncontrollable factors affecting your mental health, a clear framework of what to do could be helpful. Good luck, my friends! You got this.

About me

I graduated college in 2018 with degrees in Political Science + International Studies and will be starting law school this fall. I wrote nearly 20 15 to 25-page papers, never earning below an A. I loved researching about my topics but hated writing. It's tedious, takes so much time, and everything I write sounds bad at first. Plus, I was a terrible procrastinator so most of these essays were written in under a week. Talk about stress.

Over time I found a process that worked for me, one that made churning out a paper seem straightforward, like going through a factory line rather than this terrifying concept of writing 10,000 words. It kept me sane without decreasing the quality of my work (or more importantly, how much I learned!)

I'm thinking about making a short video to show this in action… let me know if that could be helpful!

Step 1: Research

How you organize your research is a key step in keeping you sane. Usually I'll have a pile of 20 books in my dorm along with dozens of JSTOR tabs open on my laptop, and that can get overwhelming very fast. Right now just focus on collecting ideas, not developing an argument or even an outline! As with most research papers, you could be starting with little to no background information on the topic, so it is still too early to be thinking about an argument.

Put all your research in one document

Open up a new doc: this will be the heart of everything. For a 15-page paper I usually end up with around 14-18 pages of typed research, 10 pt font, single spaced, tiny margins. This seems like a lot, but essentially all I do is type up anything I read that seems relevant to my topic, so luckily this step does not require that much brain power. Just type type type!

Use the table of contents

Find the chapter(s) that are actually relevant instead of skimming through the whole book. Time is of the essence here!

Use Zotero, cite right away

You can also use easybib or whatever you're used to, but keep track of your sources. I like Zotero because I can keep a log of all of my sources and copy the footnote or bibliography version whenever needed. Before you even begin reading, cite the source and copy it into your research doc. This will save you so much time later when you have to put in your citations in the actual paper.

Here is an example of what my research doc looks like:

Full citation is my heading for each source just so it’s crystal clear

I ignore all typos (I don’t think there are any in this part though, go me!) because my head is buried in the book just trying to get all the info down

I always start with the page number so I know what to cite when I go back

Create a shorthand

While typing up research, you might think of something that the author didn't talk about that you'll want to write in your paper. Or perhaps a few sentences already start to form. Put them all in one place, with your research, so you know what source you'll have to cite to then lead into your idea. I type "!@#" before anything that is strictly my own idea so I'm never confused. It's fast and stands out.

This is an example: the two bullet points above are evidence from my source, which made me think of this argument I could make, which I noted with “!@#”

Step 2: Read Your Research

Now that you have all your information, go back and read through it all. Every time you read about a new theme/person/event, write it down somewhere. You may come up with a list of 20+ different ideas in your research. No matter how small, as long as there is something about it, write it down. Each of these mini themes is going to end up being a paragraph in your paper or combined with another mini theme.

Once you’ve made your list, look for larger overarching themes. In the paper I’ve shown you, I had mini categories like “political party x” “religion” “labor groups” “little organization” and “hierarchy.” When I looked back I though, hey these are all groups and how groups are working together, so they each became their own mini paragraph under the subsection of “Alliances.”

As with most research paper structures, I try to find three general themes/subsections (like an extended version of that 5-paragraph essay we wrote in middle school). It makes the paper less messy and also makes sure I’m not covering things that are beyond a reasonable scope.

During this step, you are also searching for your thesis. It won’t be your final version. As you fill in your outline in the next step you may make slight changes. But this is definitely when you start thinking about it.

Step 3: Outline

We’re ready to outline! Once I’ve collected all my different themes and organized all my subsections and paragraphs, it’s time to fill in that outline. I start a new doc just for the outline and take advantage of google doc’s headings function to make a clear document outline.

Here comes the fun part, I read through my research one more time, this time copy and pasting all my research into each section of the outline. The document outline in google docs makes this easy because I can just click on each subheading to get me there (super helpful when you’re dealing with 15+ pages of research).

Here is what it looks like:

Let’s say I need to add something to my outline about labor groups. Boom, labor groups. Also, the typos are really abound here haha

Step 4: Write the Paper

Okay, I get it, easier said than done. BUT! You already have everything set up. Your outline is essentially just a list of your paragraphs and all you have to do is paraphrase, cite, and create a topic sentence. And that’s how you should think about this: you’re essentially transforming bullet points into sentences and adding footnotes.

In high school my English teacher introduced us to Sh*tty First Drafts for creative writing, but honestly the same applies to research papers. Sometimes I’ll even have phrases like “wait no that’s not what I meant but basically...” and when I go back to edit, I realize that what came after “but basically...” is fine! And I keep it. So just start typing.

How do you cite while you write? Because we’re trying to get a constant stream of writing going, inserting proper footnotes after each sentence you type is too bothersome. I usually split screen with my outline and my paper so I just copy and paste a few words from my bullet point into my footnote, like so:

(This is from a different paper about cluster munitions.)

Step 5: Edit the Paper

I work best when I print out my first draft and make all edits in red pen. I feel more productive and can visually see where I want to move sentences and what I need to change. The more red there is the better I can feel the paper getting. (Whether or not that’s true doesn’t matter. We’re trying to stay motivated here!) When it’s all digital I don’t really see the progress. Plus, once I finish all the red, I get another moment of passive brain work, where all I’m doing is transferring edits rather than thinking. And at this point in the process, that kind of relief is much welcomed.

The good thing about this process is there’s not usually a need to cut entire paragraphs or pages because the paper you end up with is just a formalized version of your outline. Because you started with such a detailed outline, the cutting and editing now is just to refine your word choices and get rid of the “but basically”s. You’re almost there!

Step 6: Replace your citations

Now it’s time to go back and replace your footnotes with actual citations. Zotero makes this easy because in Word you can just insert and add the page number, and it’ll automatically do “Ibid.” for you when needed. Ctrl+f in the original research doc to quickly find the source.

Step 7: One More Read-Through and Submit!

Congratulations!! You’ve got a fully-researched and well-backed paper! Of course, even though the process is straightforward, it’s still a lot of work. In ideal situations I would start researching two weeks before the deadline, but if need be, I believe I’ve done this all in three miserable panic-filled days as well.

Please message me if you have any questions at all! I really hope some of you find this helpful! Good luck!

#studyblr #college #university #writing #essay #study tips #studytna #original #research #research paper #study #student #school #you can do it!

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roger-that-cap · 3 years

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weatherman

at first, you loved the words on your body that connected you to your soulmate, your one and only. but the older you got, the more annoying and mocking they became. what weirdo sings rhianna when they first meet their soulmate, anyway?

steve rogers x fem!reader

soulmate au!

word count: 1.7k, she’s a baby :,)

warnings: none besides the fact that this was written in an hour and a half, flufff!

By the time you were old enough to read, the song wasn’t out yet. At the time, you had no idea it was a song, of course, and the words were still cute. It sounded like you had a sweet soulmate. You thought of your soulmate coming to you in a million different ways in your imaginative little brain every single time it rained.

But when you were eight years old, the song came out. And then, you were teased for your words relentlessly. They started to hum the song when you walked by. Someone drew you a picture of a raindrop. One kid was even bold enough to laugh right in your face and tell you that Rihanna herself was your soulmate.

And every morning, you would turn on your side, lift your arm up, and look at the words inscribed in semi-neat cursive, your soulmate’s writing.

You can stand under my umbrella

Who even said that? It was so… cheesy. As the years went by, you doubted that it was rain at all that made the words come out of your soulmate’s mouth. By the time you were in high school, you were certain that it was a pick up line. You no longer longingly stared at every rain shower that happened.

Even though you had a certain, tiny disdain for whoever was behind the words, you knew that you missed them in a way that you didn’t understand fully yet. Perhaps the reason was that everyone else around you was happy with their other halves, living perfect lives with the person destined for them, but you knew that wasn’t their fault that you didn’t have yours. By the end of high school, most people already met their soulmates. You didn’t have yours yet, and it was your second year of college. Naturally, you started to worry.

What if they didn’t exist at all?

The possibility of not having a soulmate and just having filler words in the form of a Rihanna song plagued you every day, and the thought only got stronger when it rained. When you were younger, rain meant good luck, and it was your comfort weather. Now, all it brought was the cold and negative thoughts.

§§

It was your lucky day, because it was quite literally pouring while you served the drenched customer her coffee. You watched her yank the door open and rush towards her car through the glass windows, and you swore under your breath when you remembered something.

Your car was in the shop, and you were supposed to be walking home from work. That meant walking home in the torrential downpour.

You sighed and shook your head, leaning over the counter and already anticipating getting ultimately drenched on your short walk home.

Your boss let you go home early and started closing shop, and you didn’t know if you wanted to thank her or send her the bird for not letting you wait out the storm. She had never let you go home early before, not once in the entire history of you working there. It was unusual. You had full intentions of asking her if she had a hot date, but she started to turn off the lights before you could ask her what made her want to do something nice for once.

You shook your head again as you realized that you didn’t even have a hood or jacket or even worse, and umbrella. You sighed and braced for the cold, yanking the door open and folding your arms, pushing through the uncomfortable feeling of the cold, wet rain with your head down.

You got caught at a crosswalk and had to watch cars fly by. Of course you did. There were footsteps behind you, and you sighed and regretted the second that you stomped your foot, looking up to the sky and letting the rain hit you right in the face. “This is the worst fucking day of my life.”

There was a gasp from beside you and you didn’t even open your eyes. You assumed that whoever it was, was offended by your language. “Sorry,” you said, but you didn’t sound apologetic at all.

Someone cleared their throat from beside you, and you turned your head to the side to see a handsome blonde man with a dark blue umbrella and a pink flush on his face smiling at you, already moving the umbrella your way. Your heart raced. This couldn’t be it. Was it? Your hands were suddenly shaky as you waited for the man to say something, anything. No, not anything, you were waiting to hear the predestined offer (or pickup line) that you now loved again.

“Here,” the man said, and the sound of rain hitting the roof of the umbrella was almost as empty as you felt in the moment. You mustered up a smile at him and said a small thank you, trying to mask the disappointment that came with being so close meeting your soulmate after all.

The man held the umbrella for as long as he walked in the same direction as you, and then he apologized for not being able to hold it for you any longer. “It’s alright, thank you” you said, and hoped that the sound of the pounding rain was enough to hide the tremor in your voice. You were not about to cry.

You went to stand under the roof of a building on the side of it, hoping that the wave of rain would be over in a few minutes. It was better than running for two minutes, you supposed. You saw another blonde man with large strides walk past, with an even darker blue umbrella in his hand, and he was dry.

You groaned. “How am I the only one who didn’t know about the rain?”

The man stopped in his tracks and turned around, looking at you with wide, blue eyes as you stood nonchalantly under the roof, arms crossed and still a little hurt after the universe teasing you with the first umbrella man. When all he did was stare at you, you have him a harsh look and looked away. Staring men always meant trouble, and the meaner you were, the faster they would leave you alone.

“You can stand under my umbrella,” the handsome man said, and slowly, your head turned back his way. Your eyes locked again, and it was your turn to stare like an idiot. “I-I mean, if you want to.”

You leaned off of the wall of the building and took a step towards him. “Did you really just say that?”

A grin lit up on his beautiful face, and you already decided that his smile was your favorite thing on earth. Screw churros from the fair. “Depends, did you just say something about being the only one who didn’t know about the rain?”

You threw yourself into his arms, and he nearly dropped the umbrella just to hold you. His embrace was warm and strong, and he used just enough pressure for you to feel he was there. “I didn’t think you were real.”

It truly did felt surreal. You were in your soulmate’s arms after all that time wondering, worrying, and losing sleep, and now it all felt like it was going to be alright. You could see the happiness in you near future coming your way, the questions and the subtle and uncontrollable bitterness towards others fading away quickly. You already held this man high in your mind, and just like that, he was a priority. And you didn’t even know his name yet.

Instead of asking him for the name that you so desperately wanted to know or saying any of the cheesy words swirling around in your mind, you decided to talk about the words. “Because, who quotes Rihanna?”

“Who doesn’t look at the weather before leaving the house?” He retorted, pulling back a bit to study your face. You were glad that he was able to do it, because you discovered that his face was just as comforting as the warmth of his arms.

“Shut up, weatherman.”

He smiled down at you, blue eyes giving you a fond look that only soulmates could give each other after meeting so suddenly. He poked you right on your nose, a fluttering touch that made your heart skip a few beats.

“I can walk you wherever you need to go.” Your heart warmed at his kindness. It turned out the younger you that hoped that your soulmate was a sweetheart was right, after all.

“No, it’s okay, it’s probably out of your way,” you said anyway, disregarding the way the inner you was screaming at the part of you that had control over your mouth.

“I’m not even supposed to be all the way over here right now, and I think I already missed my appointment.”

“Where are you supposed to be?”

“The barbershop.”

You frowned at him. The barbershop was all the way on the other side of town, and he didn’t seem like he was lost. “How’d you find yourself over here?”

He paused for a second, like he was debating on whether or not to tell the truth. “Something told me to walk this way.”

You could have fallen apart, and you believed that without even knowing you, he would have known how to put you back together again. “Looks like you listened,” you breathed out, in awe of the man before you, who was staring at you with the same look of bewilderment.

“How could I not?” He took one of your hands in his after asking for permission with his eyes, and you felt the tingling build up at the connection. “I’m Steve.”

You told him your name, and he repeated it once, and then twice, and then a smile was on his face, like that was the one word he needed to hear. You resisted the urge to touch his face now that you could see the subtle stubble growing in. “Don’t wear it out, weatherman.”

You took a step forward, and his long legs only took half of his normal stride to match up with you. He walked you home while you talked about anything and everything with him, every now and again talking about the words on your respective wrists and how glad you were that you found each other.

It felt so right.

You met him the next day at the park, and it was as sunny as it could be. He was carrying a tackily designed gift bag that he put red tissue paper in, and from then on, you knew he was a big goof. He handed you the bag with a huge, dopey smile on his face, and you cackled when you opened it.

It was an umbrella, an poncho, and a copy of Weather for Dummies.

******

omg omg not my first soulmate au lmao and many more to come in different shapes and sizes bc-

i’m obsessed

hope y’all liked it!!! <3

#steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers soulmate #steve rogers soulmate au #soulmate au #marvel fanfic #my fics

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hxseok-honee · 3 years

Text

atlas heart || part 25

a/n : so sorry it took so long getting this update out !! i had a disgusting amount of work to do and i really was not doing anything else for a few days -- i really hope you like it!! pls lmk what you think about things now that jimin (and we) know everything! its gonna get,,,, i wanna say messy but messys not even enough to cover how messy its gonna get

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________________________________

Jimin can’t remember the last time he’d closed his eyes for more than a few minutes. Time goes by so fast these days that he’s partially convinced he’s been falling asleep and not realizing it. The hours between class and dinner every day are spent in the library, his headphones shoved into his ears haphazardly while he tunnel visions onto what’s been in the back of his mind since the beginning of the year.

Those spare hours had turned into days and days into weeks -- weekends where he doesn’t even glance at his phone, unaware of the growing concern of his friends. It’s almost May now, the chill of early spring having melted away around him without him realizing. His schoolwork stopped being a priority ages ago, and he knows his grades are really taking the hit for it. He vaguely remembers Namjoon confronting him one night some time ago -- a week? Two weeks ago? -- but he can’t for the life of him recall the contents of that conversation. Something about hating to play the ‘prefect card’, but having no choice. He doesn’t even know if he’s still on the quidditch team. It doesn’t matter -- nothing matters when seeing everything with the perspective he’s got now.

Practically buried in scrolls and books, Jimin could care less about the time and the fact that he’s very obviously breaking curfew right now -- the library’s been empty for hours now, and the light outside the window has well past faded into pitch black darkness. He had to hide from Pince around 10pm, barely managing to catch the click of the librarian’s heels through the music blasting in his headphones to keep him concentrated -- it’s a miracle that she hadn't caught him, really. He’d never be able to focus properly back in his room, not when he’s this close to putting the pieces together.

It’s there, right there, everything scattered in his brain. He knows it’s sitting right in front of him, he can feel himself trying to hyperfocus on anything that can blatantly tell him what he needs to know. Flipping through the pages of a book with one hand and shuffling through scrolls with his other, he glances down at a scrap of paper with his own handwriting, chicken-scratch on a ripped up piece of parchment for him to refer back to every few minutes. There, in black ink, the words ‘vampire’ and ‘veela’ are written and then, later, crossed out. There’s one below it -- ‘maledictus’ -- that remains uncrossed and haunts his every thought.

For the better half of the week, he’d spent his nights scouring the bookshelves for any text he could find on blood malediction -- there isn’t much to show for his efforts. Too rare a condition to have any extensive research done, he could barely manage to put together a few measly scrolls and one book with less than a full chapter on the subject. Sighing heavily, Jimin leans back in his chair, rubbing at his temples while he reconsiders the information for what feels like the hundredth time.

It fits the fact that she has a blood condition… but it’s not right. There’s no mention of a potion or even of regularly experiencing sickness. Y/n is in the Hospital Wing like once a month. There wouldn’t be anything Pomfrey or Hoseok could do to help her if she was a maledictus…

He considers that maybe those things are part of blood malediction and that there just isn’t enough documentation for him to verify it. But there’s something nagging at him, telling him this isn’t right. He thinks back over everything he knows, trying to pull up the major details that could help him finally get some sleep. Ignoring the fact that he very well could doze off, even with his loud ass music, he lets his eyes close so he can think. It takes a few minutes, but eventually he’s sitting up in his seat, eyes wide as he recalls something said to him almost months ago, forgotten amidst everything else on his mind.

“What’s the deal with your roommate, Tae?”

“Who, Stephen?”

“No, not fuckin’ Stephen -- Jungkook!”

“Well, how the hell was I supposed to know?”

“Because Stephen doesn’t look at me like I’m the bane of his existence.”

“Yeah… I don’t know what you did to make Jeon Jungkook hate you, but it must have be serious--”

“Just tell me what you know about him, Tae.”

“I mean… nothing crazy, really -- an only child, comes from old money. Probably as old as the Malfoys or the Potters. His family’s the purest of purebloods. And always Gryffindors, just like the Malfoys are always Slytherins. It’s kind of nuts, having a family history like that.”

Jimin stumbles out of his chair, already making his way down the aisles of bookshelves, almost crazed with concentration.

Purest of purebloods -- there’s not a single pureblood family that isn’t documented in a registry… registry… regis-- aha!

Turning down an aisle designated for family registries dating back centuries, he scans the shelves at a lightening speed, finally coming to a halt in front of a tome titled Gryffindor Legacies. Hauling it from the shelf, he doesn’t even bother returning to his table, taking a seat right there on the floor.

Flipping straight to the back to search for the family name, he locates it easily and heads to appropriate page. Searching the family tree down generations, it takes him several pages of flipping through Jungkook’s ancestors’ lives to finally get to his parents. They’re the most recent entry -- new editions of the book are printed with each new generation, the original, handwritten copy belonging to the respective families. It’s an inefficient system for sure, but Jimin’s not exactly complaining when he’s the one benefiting directly.

Scanning the page, from the birth of his mother -- Jeon Eunha -- to her school days, from her marriage to his father all the way to Jungkook’s birth. Jimin expects the next part to follow the same structure of his mother’s story, recounting his childhood, but it diverges from that almost immediately with some extra lines that he almost feels don’t exist in the original copy at the Jeon family residence.

Not long after the birth of their first and only child, they were met with circumstances leading to the adoption and care of another, the recently orphaned infant girl, Y/n Y/l/n. In her days at Hogwarts, young Eunha had become friends with a female Ravenclaw student, who had a noticeably sickly pallor about her at all times. She was to become her closest lifelong friend. The same night in which Y/l/n was to give birth to her first child, she and her husband met an untimely fate in the form of a violent animal attack in the backyard of their own home. The Jeon family were the first to arrive at the premises, deciding immediately to take in the infant child and raise her alongside their own son. Not much else is known about the girl, only that she and the Jeon heir were to become inseparable.

Jimin stares down at the page, unblinking. There’s a lot of information to process, but the things that stand out most to him are the fact that Y/n’s mother was also apparently afflicted with the same illness as Y/n, and --

‘Violent animal attack’? I knew the car accident thing was bullshit, but… did her mom not even die in childbirth? Why would she not tell me… there’s nothing suspicious about an animal atta--

Almost like his brain has started to short-circuit after the long nights and lack of sleep, Jimin’s thoughts are gone instantly, replaced by the mental image of a book sitting not a even a few aisles away, on a table littered with all of the information he’d ever needed in the first place. He’s completely incapable of registering anything around him as he races back to his table, his mind flipping incomprehensibly between the information in front of him and all of the pieces of his memories, details that make too much sense in this moment to match anything but this one conclusion.

Most Muggles, however, will die from the extent of their injuries… all known instances of Muggle attacks have been portrayed in the media as ‘animal attacks’ so as to preserve the secrecy of the wizarding world…

Given the extent of the available research and data, collected almost entirely from male subjects afflicted with lycanthropy, not much is known about the hereditary components related to a female werewolf. Therefore, it is unknown if a pregnant female werewolf's transformations would affect the ability to carry the pregnancy to term…

Without any humans nearby to attack, or other animals to occupy it, the werewolf will attack itself out of frustration…

“My mom died in childbirth and my dad… just a… just a freak accident you know, no one’s fault or anything…”

Because werewolves only pose a danger to humans, companionship with animals whilst transformed has been known to make the experience more bearable as the werewolf has no-one to harm and will be less willing to harm themselves…

“You want to talk about forbidden, Jeon? Let’s talk about your illegal animagus status-”

The way one must imbibe it is very unique among potions, in that a goblet full of wolfsbane potion must be taken each day for a week preceding the full moon…

“…you know how long it takes me to make a full set of vials for you. I barely have enough to make it last 3 days…”

The monthly transformation of a werewolf is extremely painful if untreated and is usually preceded and succeeded by a few days of pallor and ill health…

“He was lowkey carrying her down the stairs… she looked kinda sick actually…”

Throwing scrolls behind him without care as he searches for the one with the final detail, he pulls his phone out when he finds it -- a book listing all of the recorded moon cycles for over a century. Jamming his thumb down on the icon that’ll take him to his search engine and typing with blind panic, he finds himself yanking out his headphones by the cord with one sharp tug when the answer flashes back at it him on the screen, and he realizes that almost all of the pieces are in place.

The quidditch match against Slytherin -- it was the night before a full moon.

“No, no… no, no, no, this can’t be right. This isn’t happening, this can’t be right, she can’t be--” Jimin remembers the text he’d sent to her almost 8 hours ago, sitting unanswered, and he moves without thinking. Slamming his hands down on either side of the moon cycle record, he flips frantically to the cycle for this current month, April of 1978. What he sees there has his heart dropping out of his chest.

“Next week? It’s next week? But that means she’d have to be feeling the effects of it this wee--” He’s cut off by the feeling of his phone buzzing in his pocket, and he reaches for it almost desperately. It’s Y/n, finally responding to his concerned texts with nothing more than a single line. His blood turns to ice when he reads it.

I’m fine, just feeling under the weather.

When Jimin bursts through the door of Dumbledore’s office just past 3am, the headmaster’s already seated at his desk, evidently waiting for him. He’s donning a light blue robe with a matching sleeping cap perched delicately on his head, suggesting to Jimin that he’d somehow woken up knowing he was soon to greet a guest. All of the panic invading Jimin’s body is masked just slightly by guilt, only now realizing how late it is and how intrusive he must seem in this moment.

“Mister Park, you certainly are out quite a bit past curfew, no?” Jimin stands in the doorway cradling all of the scrolls and books he’d been hoarding the last few weeks -- he can’t very well have left a huge pile of evidence back in the library. It would have taken no time at all for someone to look through it and see there were connections everywhere to lycanthropy, even if he himself had been blind to it for so long.

“... Park? Mister Park?” Jimin jumps, lifting his tired eyes to meet Dumbledore’s concerned ones. The man continues once he’s got Jimin’s attention. “Surely, you must need something from me, or you wouldn’t appear so…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. He doesn’t need to. Jimin’s aware of the state he’s in -- the dark rings under his eyes, his ruffled clothes and hair, the way he’s holding his books like he needs to protect them with his life. He looks unhinged. He feels unhinged.

Realizing he has absolutely no idea how to approach the subject of a potential werewolf at Hogwarts with the school’s very headmaster, Jimin decides to start by moving toward the chair in front of Dumbledore’s desk.

Maybe I just need to sit down and take a deep breath. That should help--

He doesn’t even make it two steps before one of the many books he’s holding crashes to the floor between them, falling open to the page he’d stuck a pencil in to save his spot. The moon cycle for April of 1978 stares back up at him, and when he flicks his gaze up to peer at Dumbledore, he sees the headmaster’s expression has hardened with caution.

“Professor--”

“Have a seat, Mister Park.” Jimin’s heart lodges in his throat at Dumbledore’s tone, never having heard such a sharp edge to the kind man’s voice. He moves to the chair, setting the obnoxious amount of research haphazardly in his lap. His eyes will only go so far as the top of Dumbledore’s desk, unable to bring himself to meet the man’s eyes.

“Sir, I… need to ask you something.” When he isn’t granted a response, he swallows hard, pushing forward. “If there were to be a student at Hogwarts with a… peculiarity of sorts… how would you go about dealing with that?”

“How would I deal with what, Mister Park?”

“That student.”

“I’m not quite sure I know what you mean.” Jimin lifts his eyes then, confused, but he’s met with a deliberately ignorant smile.

“Sir?” Dumbledore’s smile, albeit strained, only widens.

“I think you may be suffering from a lack of sleep, Mister Park. There are no students at Hogwarts with any peculiarities, as you call it.” Jimin stares suspiciously up at him, knowing Dumbledore can tell that Jimin doesn’t for a second believe that claim. Breaking eye contact, he glances down at his lap, trying to figure out how to keep this conversation going. Trying to figure out why he’s even here.

Jimin looks down at himself and the pile of incriminating evidence, cursing his idiocy when he realizes just how bad this situation must look. A student out of bed way past curfew, barging into the headmaster’s office holding weeks of research and making outrageous claims about a potentially dangerous student. And he’s a Ravenclaw no less.

Shit. He probably thought I was some nosy little fucker trying to expose her and get her expelled.

Knowing that he’s risking a lot by being straightforward, he takes a single deep breath and meets Dumbledore’s eyes, his own filled with determination.

“Sir, I know about Y/n Y/l/n, and I know you do, too. I need to know how to take care of her. I need to know how to help her. I need you to tell me what to do because, to be honest with you, I’m freaking out.” The way Dumbledore’s examining him as he speaks tells Jimin that he’s right, but more importantly, it tells Jimin that Dumbledore hadn’t been expecting him to want to help.

“That is a very serious accusation you’re making, Mister Park, especially in this political climate. Very serious.” Jimin doesn’t waver when he responds.

“I know, sir. That’s why you’re the only one I’ve made it to. Because I need your help. Because I know you can help.” Dumbledore narrows his eyes, peering at Jimin over the tops of his half-moon spectacles.

“Have you considered the fact that just you knowing this information at all has placed Miss Y/l/n in more danger than she’s already in?” As soon as the words leave Dumbledore’s mouth, Jimin’s heart is stopping in his chest. All the times that Hoseok and Jungkook had told him to mind his business come rushing back, and he feels himself becoming sick to his stomach. Of course it’s more dangerous for her now that he knows -- he’d been too selfish to even think it through, too nosy for his own good. He had done all this to try to understand her, to try to be a better friend who can help when she needs it, but it’s all bullshit. Everything he thought he had done for her sake had actually been for his. For him and his stupid curiosity.

Lifting his head as a thought comes to mind, Jimin doesn’t even think twice before speaking.

“Can you erase my memories?” The headmaster’s eyebrows fly to his hairline, his expression becoming amused as Jimin continues rambling. “Can’t you obliviate me or something? Wouldn’t that be the best way for me to help her? Wait… but do you have to erase everything I know about her -- will I still know her? Can you make sure I still know her? I really like her! I don’t like Hoseok or Jungkook very much -- they kind of scare me -- but I like her! I don’t want to forget her, but also if me knowing that she’s a werewolf is only going to cause her more trouble, then I really think you should make me forget--” Dumbledore lifts his hand calmly, effectively silencing a frantic Jimin.

“Have you always had such a one-track mind, Mister Park?” Jimin smiles weakly, offering a half-joking response.

“It’s my only redeeming Ravenclaw quality…” Dumbledore chuckles before scratching at his forehead with a heavy sigh.

“Unfortunately -- and I do truly mean that -- I cannot erase a student’s memories. So, you and I will need to continue this difficult conversation.” Jimin considers the man’s words, knowing that it really would be better for everyone if he had his mind wiped clean and hating that he’d unknowingly put Y/n even more in harm’s way. He looks up when Dumbledore sighs again.

“Mister Park, you do understand that you are strictly forbidden from informing anyone else of this situation, yes?” When Jimin nods immediately, opening his mouth to assure the man that he wouldn’t say a word, Dumbledore only shakes his head. “No, Mister Park, I’m not sure you really understand. This situation is infinitely more complicated than you could ever imagine, so it is absolutely imperative that you keep this information to yourself.” Jimin blinks, unsure what’s meant by ‘infinitely more complicated’, but he nods again.

“I’ve put her in enough danger just by being here, Sir -- I’m not breathing a word of this to anyone.” Dumbledore examines him a moment longer, essentially staring into Jimin’s soul to gauge his trustworthiness. Eventually he nods, leaning back in his chair.

“What advice would you like me to give you, Mister Park?” Jimin stays silent, thinking hard about any way that he can make Y/n’s life easier, especially after all the trouble he’s caused up to now. His mind flashes back to the conversation he’d overheard in the library. He opens his mouth slowly, choosing his words with care.

“Sir… how does a student that isn’t even taking Potions know how to brew the wolfsbane potion? Isn’t it nearly impossible?” Jimin sees Dumbledore’s eyes flicker with recognition, and the headmaster responds cautiously.

“…If that student isn’t taking any kind of Potions course at all, they’d need to already be an expert from having dedicated all their studies to the art of potionmaking. They would also need an immense amount of private mentoring, even if they are taking Potions. We do not teach the wolfsbane potion in the curriculum. As I’m sure you can imagine, it wouldn’t fare well in these times…” Jimin squints, putting the pieces together quickly in his mind.

“And where would a student like that find this kind of… private mentoring?” The headmaster hums at Jimin’s question, peering down at him with knowing eyes.

“Well, Mister Park, if you wish to receive mentoring on much… safer forms of potionmaking, I’m sure Professor Slughorn would be happy to help you. However, if you are asking me about Mister Jung Hoseok of Slytherin House, and if you are wondering just how he became capable of caring for Miss Y/l/n at the young age of 13, well… you’re looking at his mentor.”

When Jimin leaves Dumbledore’s office almost an hour later, he feels like his head is going to explode. The nights of sleeplessness seem to also have come rushing back to him at once, and he’s not sure if he’s going to collapse first from the exhaustion or from the weight of everything he knows now. For a moment, he considers that maybe he really should ask someone to erase his memories -- Jungkook or Hoseok, perhaps.

Yeah, I’m sure they’d absolutely love to do me that favor.

Dragging his feet as he trudges down the corridor in the direction of Ravenclaw tower, Jimin stops short at a window when movement down by the Black Lake catches his eye. Almost as if thinking about them has caused them to materialize before him, Jimin watches the silhouette of Jung Hoseok stroll casually down by the shoreline, followed not long after by Jeon Jungkook racing toward him, a body perched precariously on his back. It’s not hard to see that Y/n’s clinging weakly to him as he runs, her arms wrapped around his shoulders as he keeps his hands hooked under her knees. Jimin can see that she’s got a gown on from the Hospital Wing, and it’s obvious that Jungkook and Hoseok have snuck her out from under Madam Pomfrey’s stern supervision.

They head for the Forbidden Forest, Y/n reaching back for Hoseok when Jungkook passes him. She beckons him forward, and Jimin watches as the three of them disappear together into the trees. He sighs deeply when he can no longer see them, muttering to himself under his breath as he makes his way to his room, overcome with extreme guilt at the entire situation.

“You’ve really gone and done it now, you fucking idiot.”

#bts au #bts smau #bts social media au #bts hogwarts au #park jimin #jimin x reader

157 notes · View notes

worldsover · 3 years

Text

Judgement to the Desiccated ft. Karina

length ✦ 5573

genres ✧ sm type future; asphyxiation; blackmail; virtual_servant!Karina;

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Air did a poor job of not being polluted so Lee Soo Man flooded the world instead. The man himself certainly must be long gone and could not have been in charge of that decision but the legacy of his company far exceeds the legacy of any other human collective in history. Once on this planet, gas was the fluid of choice for respiration and breathing was an unconscious reflex. Now there’s Aether by SM. How very on-brand of them to have the liquid air you breathe follow perfume naming conventions.

Open your eyes and exit the sleeping chamber. Aether has you work for each inhalation, it desaturates the color of the bedroom—maybe there’s a subtle but uncomfortable tinge of yellow—and it makes your nose itch. Your muscles wield much less force than they used to because of the lack of resistance the fluid provides. Moreover, it smells like hairspray as though the ozone layer is taking sardonic revenge.

Screens impersonating windows track your eyes to ensure realistic parallax, playing the scene of divine blue heavens that could not exist. An azure sky is a reward for those planets that have an atmosphere and a sun for light to scatter. Your walls are either chrome or drywall white and your whole bedroom is plainly decorated just like the day you moved in.

“Etymology of bedroom,” you think out loud, though it falls on no ears.

“Bedroom is a compound noun consisting of bed and room. Bed goes back to Old English bedd ‘sleeping place, plot of ground prepared for plants,’ which goes back to the Germanic-”

Plants and sleep are both strong words to use nowadays. The former doesn’t exist in nature and it seems you’re the only one who bothers with the latter. Faint buzzing distracts you from the AI’s response and signals you to the nano drones that swim throughout the liquid to process carbon dioxide from your lungs. This whole ordeal could’ve been much worse if you didn’t have brain interfaces doing the hard part of controlling your diaphragm. The most you need is a purposeful thought. Still, it gets tiring having to think the same thought every three seconds. In. Out.

Was the metaphorical Soo Man teaching a lesson in perseverance? You love K-pop and imagine it’s how trainees used to practice dancing, singing, being charismatic. Being an idol had to be as natural as breathing air. Inhale and exhale. Right now with any antiquated programming language you clung on to, you could write a single for loop that did the same job. For every three seconds: breathe in, breathe out.

“What’s for breakfast today?” Not loud enough. “What’s for breakfast?” you think it louder.

“Welcome, master. Ae-Karina is ready for service.” It’s quite a kindness for SM to blur the bland dystopia you live in by augmenting reality through your neural device. A bosomy woman in a gold-lined but otherwise modest maid outfit appears from the corner of your eye and she bows. Ae-Karina is bewitching and almost becoming of her basis as its graphics have gradually upgraded over the rotations but you wouldn’t misconstrue the avatar as human.

“I said, what’s for breakfast!” It feels impolite to scream in your head, there’s other residents there, but finally the fridge lights up.

“Of course master. May I remind you eating is unnecessary?”

In. Out. Every day, she does remind you, yes. How kind of the company to put all your nutritional requirements in the new air. Aether goes in then Aether goes out. You wish the thoughts of breathing could fade into the background but they’re just like your cravings for food. Always hungry but never starving, whole though not once satisfied. Your eyes pause at her gorgeous face and she tells you there’s bacon. Take it from your fridge. Bacon goes in. Well, the drones take care of the out.

Your assigned living space is the entire 207th floor of a tower. Two hundred and seven floors below the surface. The neighbor a few floors upstairs says that he thinks living deeper is a sign of status. What a luxury. That guy should check the status of his facial muscles, maybe improve his code that lets him tell lies while he’s at it. A couple hundred flights of stairs to swim up is a useless skeuomorphism of skyscrapers in the days of the sun. In fact they were more than useless, you would've preferred a single vertical hallway as it would have let you propel upwards unimpeded. Each floor is the exact same, a glass door that affords no privacy for its residence, a false tree on each side. At the upper levels, malls, convenience stores and other gaudy retail, but it’s the gyms that mock you that you mock in return. They’re always empty.

Finally reaching the top is no true break even if it is a change in scenery. Inhale. Aether tastes a little different up here. Exhale. Can’t say you like it.

Countless satellites form a parody of the star from which the planet flew away, the false image refracted by the upper boundary of Aether. They can’t take away your memories of this star. Looking up at the sky once blinded you with ultraviolet radiation, burning your cornea. It was beautiful. Now everyone’s decided that if they’re playing the part of corporate dystopia, they might as well fit the aesthetic. In a way, it’s self-fulfilling. They wouldn’t have chosen a neon pink sun to compliment the blue and metallic gloom of the cityscape if it weren’t so ingrained in popular media already.

Still, you would’ve expected Google or Walmart to become the megacorp responsible for the state of the world, not a Korean entertainment company. Must’ve been quite the red paperclip scenario. Instead of material design or utilitarian architecture, tacky artistic structures line the streets. The same advertisements for albums that they’ve been selling for the past however long. It's all so obvious, the city could've been designed from scratch to accommodate new forms of travel and goddamn liquid air but instead they went with futuristic Tokyo.

Dubstep permeates your inner ear implants. A notification informs your thoughts that it’s “Hip-hop EDM dance pop with a strong jungle house groove and urban influences.” It’s dubstep. Liquid carries barely any sound so SM affords the option for implants if you're nostalgic for one of the senses. Even though it’s a slower form of communication than direct neural transfer, the noise comforts you. Of course the company would choose dubstep as their background music, but maybe they make money off refunds somehow. It switches to Ice Cream Cake. Much better.

You walk the not so busy roads towards a short brick warehouse in the distance and heavy rain soaks your clothes. No such thing as weather without the sun and water but it’s all simulated anyway.

A warm Seulgi adlib and you know it’s Psycho that starts playing. No, none of your senses are real. The most you could trust is your vision but even that’s being lied to. You could be living in a vat and fed all these thoughts, but then why make it so mediocre? Not paradise, nor torture but a lukewarm in-between. Guess that's what happens when SM Entertainment manages the post-apocalypse. Good on them for trying. The alternative would be a frozen hellscape without solar radiation. Can’t deny their work with geothermal and nuclear energy to keep the Aether warm so that you didn’t have to live underground for the rest of human history. It’s quite great PR to save humanity.

“Hey now, we’ll be okay,” repeats a few more times than you remember.

The Idea Factory Alpha White Delta Green says the neon tubes lighting the front of the brick and mortar building. Your ID card bears a name but it’s not yours, not until they approve your name change. Those usually get processed faster with how often people liked changing their names.

Sit at a desk with a sterile white keyboard and slick new monitor. Type and empty words appear on the screen: “Think for the many, not for the one. We need to think ahead.” A thumbs up. The company appreciates the input. That’s probably enough work for one day. Some SNSD live stages help the time pass, SM certainly appreciated the streaming numbers and it would net you some social points.

It’s hard to say what comes to mind when they ask you to envision a world without the sun and air, especially since it’s what you’ve known for... Two hundred years? There’s no frame of reference, that much you can tell from when you counted seconds to see how often the satellites completed their orbit. SM really took time to have them propel at random speeds, they love withholding sensitive information like that from citizens. To be fair, time is sensitive. Guess the meaning of that phrase changes like all parts of language.

Look around. Dozens of employees at identical workspaces all try to answer the same questions. Naturally, there’s no need for manual labor anymore but there will never be a replacement for human ingenuity. Nice slogan but you know you’re only here for data. Can’t see a need for customer retention though—what’s the alternative, skip Earth? See you on another planet?

“Hey bro, you come up with anything new?” Dave says. Two desks away, you see the enthusiastic, surprisingly spry man play around with a Newton’s cradle. The balls at each end bounce back and forth, not slowing down their rhythm any time soon.

“I think I got something,” you say, “Earth is not the answer. It can’t be, long term.”

“Ooh, I like that. Actually, I really like that.”

“What are you gonna do, copy me?”

“Of course not. You know how much SM hates plagiarism.” Click. Clack.

“Ha. As if there’s a single original thought left in the world.” Click. Clack. The imaginary sounds of metal spheres bouncing play in your mind. They got the volume wrong, no way it’d sound that loud from that distance. “You’d think with all their resources, they’d have figured out space travel by now.”

“I don’t think they want to leave, bro. Wouldn’t be great for profits.”

Your mouth opens to laugh and causes laugh8942.mp3 to play in Dave’s head. “I love it. SM probably hates that sass too,” you say.

“Oh no, they’re gonna arrest me for thoughtcrimes. Nah, they love creativity, just when it suits them. Also, if they actually did bust you for wrongthink like rumors say, I wouldn’t have this on me.” Dave twirls a finger and points at you and you thank his absurd flair for the histrionic that keeps you amused with such drab work.

“NewDrug.mp6. Would you like to play it?” the dry system voice notifies you.

“Woah woah there tiger, hold on.” Dave must’ve noticed your intrigued eyes and holds his hands up. “You might wanna experience that at home. But if you’re interested in more, ask for chicken parm at the vegan place. You know the one.”

Dave leaves his desk. He doesn’t return. You finish your work. Inspire. Expire. You’d rather not.

In contrast to your commute to work, the roads fill with others on your way home. You have to know. Take solace in the comfort of a bench where a huge McDonald’s arch bathes the surroundings and its people with a yellow glow. Really shouldn’t watch it now, especially if Dave says it’s a home type of watch but you have to know. A family of five watches you pass out. They, along with every other passerby, ignore your still body draped over the chrome outdoor seating as you look like yet another junkie. The title is correct after a fashion, the simulation is some sort of new drug. The details of the exploits that happen in the immersive replay wash over you but you don’t need them to know that it’s the sort of lewd that SM would not allow—at least not publicly and not without the right exorbitant payment.

Suit pants and underwear go straight to the laundry. That must’ve been an embarrassing sight but no one bothered to stop you, so it doesn’t matter. Look up where this vegan place was that Dave so presumptuously assumed you knew about and you find that it’s about four Avengers’ stores down from work. He must’ve eaten there before.

“Yo Dave, just wanna make sure, what’s the name of the vegan place called?”

“What are you talking about, man? You telling me there’s some secret underground farms that SM wouldn’t know about?”

You can’t tell when you got to work, a lack of standardized timing would help as well the haze of living in a monotonous dark. “Nah, I mean, for the-”

“I have no idea,” Dave emphasizes each word, “what you’re talking about.”

“I see.”

Work flies by, unusually.

“Hey, can I get a chicken-”

“Uh, this is Maron’s Veggies Only, it clearly says on the sign.”

Clear your throat. “Parm.”

The shifty part-time worker looks around and rubs his fingers gesturing for money. “No digital.”

Over the counter, you pass him a gold coin stamped with a holographic 1 and he hands you a USB stick and a laptop in return. How old-fashioned.

“It’ll sync with whoever you have set as your avatar experience aspect,” the worker says.

“Thanks.”

Ever vigilant as the patrol is, the alleys are the last place you want to go to hide with the obvious criminal element within them all but you head to one anyway. Dump the anachronistic technology in your storage pocket dimensions. Looking at its contents, you’d have to clean that mess up later, but the more you look like an average slob the better. The biggest problem with the inventories is all the people squatting in them. Inspectors wouldn’t care about the archaic ruins you left in yours.

“Welcome, master. Ae-Karina is ready to service.”

“I’d like to go on a date. A special date.” You highlight the key word special and sit on your living room couch. No one’s going to look in your glass door and regardless, you wouldn’t be the pervert for glimpsing into someone’s home.

“Ah yes, master. Ae-Karina is ready to fully service,” she says with a provocative tint in her tone, her sclera disperses to black to match. A pole drops from the ceiling while parts of her maid outfit dissolve which reveals more of the silky skin of her thighs, her lissom arms and most importantly her overflowing breasts. Ae-Karina wraps her legs around the pole and spins around, teasing fingers trace curves on her body to harden you. Her dance is precise but sultry regardless. She pulls up her short skirt to flaunt more of her ass beneath white panties and then pulls down to flourish her cleavage, not trapped by a bra. “Are you enjoying your maid’s show?”

“Very much so, yes,” you say.

Half of a smile forms before a glitch occurs and she teleports next to you, fully nude. It doesn’t pull you out of the illusion however. You just stare and drink in the splendor of her created body.

“You’re not going to touch?” Ae-Karina says.

A feel of her tits and you find it softer than pillows you used to rest on. Soft isn’t much of a character that exists anymore when the whole world is engulfed in liquid. No one has beds, especially with the rarity of sleep. Therefore, her mounds are a consummate dedication to the texture as you squeeze and pinch at her cute nipples.

Her maid outfit rematerializes as she straddles you. It provides more friction to your pants as she begins her lap dance. The weight of her body dragging across your legs and clothed erection induces your carnal impulses further. If only you could fuck the virtual idol. You have to make do with the imprint of her pussy lips on your bulge sliding up and down. Breath in. Breath out.

Ae-Karina pulls down your boxers and spits on your erection. It's not real but her hands so slick on your cock and you let reality slip. Real is for the past, you have desires gratified in the present. There is no real person nibbling at your neck but your nerves activate in sexual desire without discernment for truth. No, she doesn't love you, but when the voracious mass of ones and zeroes says it loves its master, you say it back.

"I love you."

ILOVEYOU infected ten million computers in 2000. An explosion. Calibration engaging. It’s 1:21 PM, Sunday, July 18, 2286 and hypothetically the sun would be out in its full rage. At this latitude and longitude, you’re at what was once the epicenter of all—Seoul, where a fountain caused a chain reaction allowing the hopeful remnant of a world to exist. It lasted a surprisingly long time without the sun and without Aether but the dying planet would succumb inevitably to the ever-increasing contamination so SM of all corporations took charge. A different kind of chain reaction occurred when they acquired a restaurant chain that discovered the recipe for liquid air. The law is on its way and prepared to punish you to its full extent.

You reel while your ears ring. An even sexier version of the woman you already fantasized about appears from your peripheral vision in the crater of your floor. A skimpy cop outfit, striated with reflective material that seems to wane black at different angles, outlines Karina’s curves. She has a tool belt with absurd gadgets, such as a knife baton hybrid, a taser combined with a spray bottle and a Tamagotchi. None of this is necessary. They could just immediately arrest you, impose limitations on your devices. Sure, SM cloned people to deal with underpopulation, but why Karina would be the enforcer is a whole nother issue. Maybe the entertainment company loves their irony?

“Halt. You’re under arrest. Any resistance will be penalized according to the combined Terms of Service of all SM and SM associated products.”

Fucked anyway, you figure you might as well go for it. Escape into your inventory and only seconds later you’re forced out. You manage to get what you need regardless.

“Violation of access rights will be charged to your account.”

It’s so obvious but there’s a reason you kept so much gold in physical storage. As you swim away, the sides of your apartment start to bubble. Bubbles? Already, your limbs feel unsteady. Something’s wrong in the Aether.

“This is standard procedure for escaping suspects that are indoors. Again, this is all agreed to under the Terms of Service.”

“When the fuck did I ever click accept to that shit?”

“When you were born in this world and decided you want to stay in it,” Karina says out loud. You hear her say it. Your physical ears process the vibrations in the air that come from her mouth. Gravity thwarts your desperate escape as your limp body floats on the limit between liquid and air. The atrophy of your muscles becomes apparent within the gaseous atmosphere. She watches you sink down as the room drains of all the false air though her eyebrows crease when she inspects you closer. Your breaths are involuntary. Despite your muscles shorting out, the force of gravity and the pressure of the gas bearing down on you, you’re breathing and you don’t mean to. Her eyes wander farther down. On your pants, a concrete rod stamps the fabric.

“Oh, you like what you see?”

“Shut up, criminal. Anything you say can and will be used against you.”

“Your pussy,” you say and she scoffs.

“Original.” Karina bites her lip as your erection continues to grow behind its prison. You use all effort to put your hands up.

“Please, miss Karina. I’ve been bad.”

“I could punish you even more for sexual assault.”

“Then do it.”

Heat radiates the room in a way you haven’t felt in a while and droplets of sweat form on each of your bodies, especially on the thighs that her revealing outfit parades. Her facial features contort in deliberation and the wait kills you. You bat your eyes at her before Karina takes off her tight shorts and drops herself into your anticipatory face. This makes no sense but none of this life made any sense so you decide to go with the tides.

Centuries of training your respiration has led to this moment, but when you finally have real air to breathe, you spit at the opportunity and choose to suffocate. Then you spit at her pussy and lap it up. Karina’s nectar transfixes your olfactory glands, for once a smell that isn’t the sterile Aether. Your eyes are mesmerized in parallel because of the perfect design of her pussy, a single crease that leads into her hole that your tongue emphatically explores. Karina spreads her thighs wide to reveal a small nub that craves attention. So give it. Suck and swirl and flick your tongue, and the woman provides you the tight clench of her legs as a gift. And the sounds, rediscovered glorious noise. Loud, almost too loud, and clear is how they assault your ears, even surrounded by the flesh of her thighs. Muffled by the weight of her legs, you hear Karina moan in approval but she’s still clearly in charge with how she chokes you with her legs. This is not about your pleasure but hers, and any satisfaction that you derive is not only incidental but probably punishable by SM copyright law.

Karina squirms her hips subtly on your mouth. Her eyes are sharp and she’s just about to stop your hands from moving but she notices them clasp together.

“I’ll do anything to make you cum, please.” you say sloppily as her pussy juices fill your cheeks and drip down your chin.

“God. I can’t.” She takes deep, contemplative breaths. ”That’s more time added on for inappropriate behavior.” Her groaning and brief squeals make her words sound incogent.

You give her a concluding lick and a kiss on her slit. “So what have you been doing right now then?”

Point to a corner of the room and a subtle red light indicates a recording camera. At once, she pulls out a hose from a pocket that could not fit it and the vacuum submerges the room with noise. Her expression shifts quickly to serious.

“We don’t play games here in SMTOWN unless it’s SuperStar so don’t fuck with me.”

“Look who's trying to be a comedian. How about you fuck with me any further and the video gets released.”

“That’s funny, you think you have any sort of power-”

“Yoo Jimin, I suggest you don’t push me more.”

“Where do you know that name from? Right now.” She weighs herself down on your neck.

“You think I don’t have contingencies for if I die too? Karina, we can make this a win-win scenario. We both get to cum, we both get to walk away unscathed.”

“Fuck you.”

Your weak arms wander between her thighs. At any moment, a feeble punch towards your face or another ten seconds of asphyxiation and she could call your bluff. Even if you did have the ability to expose her perversions in any way, there would be no permanent recourse, not as long SM was in charge. So it surprises you when Karina takes off her shorts.

“Goddammit. Your cock just looks too good. And your mouth, how are you so good with it?” Put up five fingers when she motions to remove her top as well, and instead she opts to take off your clothes, seizing your pants and throwing them to join the rubble in the room.

A finger slips in, then two and a third dares. Her flawlessly architected pussy lips clings to your digits and Karina shudders in reply. You explore her wetness and find it’s smooth to the point of having no faults, but her juice inside is gloppy and causes your fingers to stick more than the liquids she spills from her slit.

“Who said you’re allowed to have more?”

You lap up the nectar on your fingers. “Then why’d they make you taste so good?”

Your thumb teases her sweet tight asshole and puts just the slightest amount of pressure on it while you finger her with more intensity. The mass of her butt burdens your torso the closer she gets to orgasm. Her eyelids squeeze close and you see her body ripple in anxious pleasure. Karina shows off her pearly whites, teetering on the cliff of hysteria.

“Yes, yes! I’m so close,” she screams.

"Not yet."

“Fuck." Karina sobs, "God. Damn, fuck I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Just fuck me.”

“My pleasure,” you say. There’s no need for you to grab her since she brings herself down to your groin, which you’re thankful for as your arms are as good as jelly now. Fortunately, your cock throbs as hard as ever while Karina’s slit rests on it.

“Say you’ll delete it all, all the evidence, promise me.”

“You’re gonna fuck me first or what?” Your breath hitches while she makes a strangled noise as her velvety walls swallow your cock whole to leave no room for comfort. Her tightness is stifling and you have to start counting just to breathe again.

“One two-”

“Be quiet.”

But there is no quiet when pleas for your cooperation intersperse her excessive profanities when she seats herself into your cock and ricochets up and down. Sweat emanates from her creamy skin while her legs widen to find a better angle for her supporting knees in her cowgirl position. Grapefruit and other citrus mingle with the scent of the sweat, fruits you haven’t seen except on billboards in music videos. As much as your mind crackles and your blood roars for every atmosphere of pressure Karina’s walls provide on each thrust in and out, you can’t help but reminisce on sweeter, more innocent times.

The white fluorescent lights in your apartment sputter. For all the advancements in technology, some among many things never change. Light refracts differently in air, less bright, but you can see the pure enjoyment on Karina’s face no matter the luminescence. Karina slows her ride to pull her hips down harder instead and she jolts when your cock finds the most tender spots inside her pussy and it interrupts her babbling.

Karina almost hyperventilates when she gets up to spit on your cock. She pulls out some kind of meter from her tool belt and sighs when there’s no beeping and you recognize it having to do with carbon dioxide. She gets back to dribbling saliva and the filament trailing down to your shaft mesmerizes you. This spit is real, not simulated, and it wettens your erection in a mix with her pussy juices to paralyze you further in your already listless state. Her bare thighs jiggle and you can’t exert much force with your hands but her buttcheeks are firm with just a bit of give.

“Thank you for this cock, thank you for being bad,” Karina says as you watch her ass sink deeper while her pussy holds your dick taut. She’s frenetic when bounces up and down to play an unadulterated orchestra of slick noises between your groins.

“You’re welcome,” you accomplish getting out the words between planned breaths. Your hands cup her buttcheeks but you fear they may break with how she strikes her ass into you.

Karina turns around once more to give you the spectacle of her facial expressions as she fucks herself into you. Knead her calves laying on your torso and they take no energy to spread them though she brings them back together, compressing your hard shaft within her pussy. A new game you play with her, a separate rhythm of loosening and tightening. Her feet press on your chest to help her bounce, but the way they bear down on your lungs against the timing of your breathing causes you to fumble. Your cock bends straight forward as she plunges herself into you and it sends prickles to your entire skin, making the new angle difficult but worth it. Karina takes your hand and starts sucking on your fingers.

“You want my promise that bad?” you say.

“Yes, as bad as I want your cum. I swear, I need it.”

She draws her knees up to her torso and hugs her legs to keep thighs as tight together as possible. Karina couldn’t keep her word, she was trying to kill your cock with constriction.

“Fuck, your pussy is so fucking tight. God, Karina, fuck. You’re so good.” Even if good isn’t the word you want to use to describe her.

“Do it, please, please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, baby. Karina can be a good girl, a good maid, a good cop, whatever you want. Just don’t get me in trouble, please.”

Karina’s mouth stops saying words though her lips writhe, drunk in increasing lust. Her cheeks flush, before the rest of her skin joins in redness while she grapples your chest and whatever spare limb she can find. You still struggle wresting control of your body but nature seems to take over when you drive yourself into her and match her needy cadence. The air in the room is replaced by a new air but it isn’t Aether. Passion, sweat, heat and all fluids that you both exude join squelching sounds, slaps and moans in harmonic bliss when her body tenses and she screams. As her body tightens, her pussy especially holds your cock for dear life and endeavours to wring out all your semen as her wetness throbs and spills. Karina starts counting to three repeatedly and you laugh though your amusement quickly subsides when you feel her juices become more viscous and she continues her ride, even in the dying pulses of her climax.

“Was I good?” Karina asks.

Just a moment goes by before you mentally send her a screenshot of all the recordings being deleted. Karina hasn’t stopped fucking you yet so at least it wasn’t a ploy.

“Thank you, thank you, I love you.” The flexion of her pliant legs brings them all the way back to rest on top of your legs. Karina lays prone above you and finally give you a kiss. The citrusy flavor may be closer to lime than grapefruit but it’s been so long that you can’t remember which scent is which. Lips crash and her tongue lashes out at yours trying to establish dominance. Keep still to let her investigate your mouth while her pussy does the same to your shaft.

You savor the way Karina’s top emphasizes the bouncing of her tits synchronous with the rebounding of her waist on your cock, but your mouth waters when she frees them. Take the shortest moment to relish in the sight before Karina smothers you with her plump globes. You wriggle your face to try to breathe. Inhale, up and exhale, down, but all you inhale is the scent of her orbs’ sweat. Her hips undulate with a pace at least double yours breathing and the echoes of slapping flesh resonate throughout the air-filled chamber. The loudness is unlike any you’ve experienced in a long time. It’s almost a flashbang every time her ass slams into your lap, especially as you start to see white when orgasm threatens to overload you with preludial pulses.

The last words you hear infected ten million computers in 2000. Fade to black. Cut. You’re slammed out of existence back into existence as a sun rebirths both within you, heating your core to a dangerous high, and from your eyes, dazzling you in an unforgiving white light. In the throes of unconsciousness relapsing to consciousness back to tenebrosity, your streaks of semen suspend in the Aether like a dead tree resting from the wind. What flashes your mind in its orgasmic state are two things only you would remember, plants and weather. Your hyperventilation is unconscious but not unwelcome, as it’s the first time in a while your breaths were reflexive even in the liquid air. However, basking in your newfound power, you start to choke. Right. You breathe in and out again. In and out. In. Out. In. Out. Back in.

“Replaying KarinaArrestsYou.mp6.” A hint of vexatious glee in the system’s otherwise dry voice. You don’t stop for it.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

It’s pretty silly but the idea danced around in my head ever since I saw the absolute Black Mirror concept that SM had for aespa and I concur that Karina is insanely hot.

As I’m writing this, this Kurzgesagt video on the idea of a rogue Earth comes out and now I have to rewrite stuff to make it at least a little consistent. I’m obviously already going nuts with all these ridiculous sci-fi concepts but this video almost feels too targeted to me writing this for me to ignore it.

#kpop smut #aespa smut #male reader #reader insert #title tracks

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restlessfandoming · 3 years

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“the president and the troublemaker” (part 9) (chilumi fic)

“Lumine is the student council president and Childe is the school’s number one troublemaker. They cross paths more than they’d like. Especially when Childe finds out Lumine’s big secret. Highschool AU à la Kaichou wa Maid-sama.”

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8]

my brain b decayin luv

[Fic Masterlist] // [AO3 Link] // [Main AO3]

the president and the troublemaker (part 9)

Was this a hallucination?

Had Lumine been out in the sun for too long?

Surely, there was no way she was about to fight Childe of all people.

And yet, there he stood, with that stupid grin of his, stretching his arms across the ring from her.

“What are you doing here?” Lumine said through gritted teeth.

“And let you have all the fun, all alone? No way,” he teased. He stretched his arms upwards, his gray tank top riding up as well, exposing well-sculpted abs (which of course made a gaggle of girls screech nearby). He caught sight of Lumine’s gaze, and laughed. “Aren’t you a little hot in that t-shirt, Lumi?”

Bastard.

Lumine would’ve obliterated the ground underneath that smirking ginger if she could.

“Hey, ref,” she said to the man sitting on the lifeguard chair behind her. “Any illegal moves we can’t do?”

The man pondered for a second. “Not really—we’re pretty casual here.” He laughed. “Just make sure you guys don’t hurt each other too much.”

“No promises,” Lumine muttered, marching to the center of the ring.

Childe copied her movements, and eventually stood before her. “Looks like we’re the last two left,” he said. “I wonder who will become champion of this little competition?”

Lumine didn’t respond, instead choosing to glare up at him.

He tilted his head curiously. “Lumine…,” he asked lowly. “Did I really hurt you earlier?”

No, you didn’t hurt me. She didn’t know what he was doing to her.

Her life was going perfectly fine, the exact way she had planned, until Childe found out her secret. Not only did he find out her secret, he had inserted himself into her life, and left her a swirling mess of confusing feelings—feelings she had never experienced before nor any idea of how to deal with them. He said he loved her.

“Ready!” the referee shouted.

Lumine raised her fists up.

Childe mimicked her with raised brows. “That doesn’t really look like a wrestling stance to me.”

The referee blew the whistle—the match had begun.

Lumine immediately swung forward with a punch, to which Childe blocked easily with his forearm.

His eye twitched. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Lumine swung again, with her other arm, and Childe quickly moved back, out of the way. The crowd around them broke into hushed murmurs as the realization set in that this was not a normal match.

Childe shook out his hands, then raised them back up, cocking his head from side to side. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With a grin, he lunged towards her with a fast and powerful swing.

Lumine felt the air blow past her face as she jumped back, her palm catching his other fist as it came in quick succession milliseconds after. She shoved his hand away, with her leg darting out in an attempt to sweep him off his feet.

He jumped, and using the brief window of distraction, she swung at his face again. At the last second, his hands caught her forearm, and she was now stuck in his vice grip.

“Come on, Lumine,” he breathed. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

She tried pulling her arm away, to no avail. “You,” she hissed.

His grip loosened, just a bit, and Lumine yanked her arm out.

“Me?” he asked. “What about me exactly?”

“Everything.” She threw a jab at his face. “Everything you do.” Another jab. “You tease me. You confuse me.” A sweep with her foot. “I don’t know what’s happening to me—because of you.”

Childe dodged every single one of her moves, though his brows were now furrowed in concentration, and a slick sheen of sweat glistened on his face; they were tiring each other out. At this rate, neither one of them would win. Lumine’s frustration grew, bubbling and festering deep in her gut.

“If you want me to stop,” Childe said, “I will.” He threw a punch at her. “Say the word, and I’ll go away.” Each word he said was punctuated with a swing at her, backing her up further and further.

Do I want him to disappear?

If he did, her life could go back to normal—she could go back to normal.

And yet, part of her knew it wouldn’t feel right.

He had really taken her out of her comfort zone, broadened her horizons. Made her a better fighter. A better person.

Childe wasn’t the problem. The problem was her: it was her frustration and her inability to figure out how she felt about him.

“Do you really hate me, Lumine?” Childe asked.

No.

I like you, you idiot.

She stepped back, ready to answer through her fists. What she didn’t realize, however, how far back she was, and she crashed directly into the referee’s chair.

There were sharp gasps from the audience as she fell onto her back, the wind knocked from her lungs, too stunned to roll out of the way as the tall metal chair came tumbling down on her. She could only shut her eyes, and brace for impact.

The unmistakable hollow sound of metal against skin resounded in her ears. But she didn’t feel anything. She opened her eyes.

Poised above her was Childe, his hands on either side of her head, while his body shielded hers; his face was twisted in pain.

“Childe?” Lumine whispered.

He opened his eyes, and upon seeing her gazing right back at him, he forced a meek smile.

“Hey, girlie,” he said, strained. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah.” She put a hand on his chest, gentle, trying to help stabilize his shaking arms. “What about you?”

A heavy huff of a breath. “I’m fine.”

The chair was lifted off of him as spectators gathered around the two, a swirl of questions and calls for medical attention.

As he sat up, Lumine sat up as well, her hand subconsciously clutching the front of his shirt, holding him close as her concern grew.

Childe kept persisting he was fine to everyone around, but when someone behind noted a large bruise was blossoming across his back—so large it was visible through his top—Lumine turned him around and examined it herself.

Her fingers traced the injury, and when Childe winced, she told him they were going to the nearest clinic—no arguments. After a hasty call to Kaeya and Aether explaining the situation, the two were sitting in one of the clinic’s rooms, waiting for the doctor.

“I told you, I’m fine,” Childe repeated from his seat on the exam table. “It’s just a bruise. It’ll go away.”

“You really don’t like getting your injuries treated,” Lumine huffed from her chair nearby. “You didn’t even want to go to a hospital after diving off a building.”

He shrugged with a smile. “What can I say? I like to test the limits of my strength.”

Lumine rolled her eyes. “You’re not invincible, you know.”

“I’d like to think so.”

“Jesus, who let your ego grow this much?”

“I haven’t died yet, so there’s nothing to prove I’m not invincible.”

Lumine stood, and poked at his back. She saw his muscles jolt and scoffed. “You sure about that?”

Childe leaned back on his hands. “Injuries and scars mean nothing if I’m still breathing.”

Lumine looked at him curiously. “What kind of mentality is that?”

He looked back at her, his blue eyes dark in thought. Then, he grabbed the collar of his shirt, and pulled it over his head.

Immediately, Lumine slammed her eyes shut, even throwing her arms over her face to block out her vision completely. “What are you doing?!” she managed to squeak out.

There was a soft chuckle from Childe, and before she knew it, he had gently grabbed her hand, guiding it towards it, until she felt her fingers flat against his chest. She let out another squeak as her hand felt his bare skin.

Though it definitely didn’t feel normal. It felt smooth, unnatural. Lumine opened one eye to peek.

There was a large pinkish-white scar etched on his sternum. A knife wound of sorts. Right by the heart. Life threatening.

“Some no good scumbags did this to me when I was young,” Childe explained. “Insignificant now, but maybe the reason I push myself so much. Nothing will ever come close to this life-or-death moment.”

Lumine’s entire system felt dry as she imagined a little boy with a smattering of orange hair and bright blue eyes with this wound, gaping of blood. What kind of monsters…? “Do...Do you know who did this to you?” Lumine didn’t realize how hoarse her voice sounded until she heard her nearly trembling voice spill out.

Another chuckle, a little darker this time. “What? Are you going to get revenge for me?”

Lumine’s eyes stung. “You’re not angry? Upset that some monsters out there nearly killed you? When you were only a kid?”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Childe let out a sheepish laugh. “Didn’t mean to make you upset, Lumine.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, straining to keep the tears at bay. “I just...I’m always so dependent on you. Whenever I need help, you’re just magically there to save the day.” Her head hung down, eyes fixed on the floor. “I can’t even repay you for all the times you’ve come to my rescue. And you’re always the one to get hurt. Even when I’m horrible, when I’m stubborn and angry and—”

Childe wrapped his arms around Lumine, pulling her in for a tight embrace. “I’m plenty dependent on you too, Lumi.” His words buzzed against her ear as his chin rested on her shoulder.

She hesitated a moment. But her arms eventually found their way around him as well. “Just...let me help you. Like how you help me.”

He pulled back, just a bit, his lips ghosting over her forehead as he murmured, “You already are.”

Lumine looked up at him, how impossibly close he was. Her eyes trickled down to his lips.

His eyes followed hers, and she felt his muscles tense against her skin.

As the heat crept from the pit of her stomach to the apples of her cheeks, Lumine’s eyelids fluttered closed, and she leaned in—

CLICK.

“Alrighty, how are we doing today—?”

Lumine and Childe froze and turned to the open door. The doctor looked back at them with raised brows.

“Sorry, should I come back…?” the doctor asked, his voice lined with amusement.

Lumine’s arms snapped back to her own body as she frantically waved in front of her. “N-no, no, no; ah, uhm, sorry, doctor!” She quickly deflated back into the chair, facing the wall away from Childe as the doctor began his examination.

Her heart was constantly hammering away at her chest the entire time, barely noticing the exam was over until Childe tapped her arm, jolting her back to reality.

“Ready to go, Lumi?” he asked, a wide grin splitting his face.

“Already? What did the doctor say?”

“Oh? Were you a little...distracted?” If possible, his grin stretched wider.

Lumine stood, leaving the room abruptly. “You can die for all I care,” she muttered sarcastically.

He jogged to keep up with her. “He said I was okay: just a bad bruise that will go away after a while.”

The two exited the building, walking into the colorful sorbet glow of sunset.

“Back to the beach house?” Lumine asked.

Childe hummed in agreement. There was a brief pause before he leaned down, right into her shoulder, and said, “Unless you want to finish where we left off.”

Lumine put her palm on his forehead, shoving him away, his laugh breezing her arm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she answered, walking away. I am going to die from embarrassment.

God, she had never been so...so vulnerable in front of someone. To think, she was about to kiss—

“You never did answer me, by the way,” Childe said, walking by her side.

“What?”

“When we were fighting.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Whether you hate me or not.”

Lumine bit the side of her cheek. “What about you?” she blurted. “Do you really love me, or is it just another one of your stupid jokes?”

“Does it bother you?”

Childe had stopped walking, his expression all tight lines.

“Does it bother you?” Childe repeated. “If I’m in love with you?”

Was she going to continue running from him? Denying anything and everything about him? In the end, it would just hurt them both, wouldn’t it?

“No,” Lumine answered quietly.

A soft smile tugged at Childe’s lips, and he stepped in front of her, putting his hand on top of her head. “And do you hate me, Lumi?”

“N-no.”

“Again.”

Her face scrunched. “I...I don’t hate you, Childe.”

I like you. Why couldn’t she just say it?

“Don’t look so constipated, Pres.”

Lumine’s jaw dropped as her head snapped up at Childe’s face. “I am not—!”

Childe kissed her forehead, gently, his hand delicately placed on her cheek.

“Thank you, Lumine,” he said, his breath rustling her golden locks. “For everything today.”

She clutched his shirt, legs shaking—but she didn’t back away. “I should be the one saying thank you. For saving me.”

“Always.”

“I’ll save you too,” Lumine whispered. “I swear.”

“It’s a promise, then,” Childe whispered back.

* * *

[part 10]

#genshin impact #genshin lumine #genshin childe #childe #lumine #chilumi #fanfiction #fanfic #me

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faithinlouisfuture · 2 years

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Thank you for tagging me @louehvolution @longhairedlouist91 @berlinini & @icarusfallsforwalls 🤍

End of the Year This or That - Louis Version

Just Hold On or Don't Let It Break Your Heart : The simple message in this track is so eloquently worded that it’s bound to fill the most downhearted with at least a shred of hope which can then grow to the strength needed to overcome whatever heartbreak/obstacle that’s got you down. The absolutely smashing instrumentality is a definite bonus!

Back To You or Miss You : This one was hard to choose not gonna lie. I love them both! I think the only reason I chose BTY over MY my beloved (with peaky louis yumminess) is that on a personal level I can relate to it. Been there, in that toxic AF place where you stress me out you kill me you drag me down you fuck me up but my shit brain forgets all of that after two laughs I have with you, and we’re back to square one. Here we go again. (Gladly out of it now). I have to say I’m dying to hear Miss You live though!

Just Like You or Only The Brave : Choosing JLY over OTB feels a little bit like sinning because of the absolute iconic nature of OTB on a level that I can’t even begin to put into words. BUT hear me out, Just Like You - she’s so damn multilayered my mind is blown! The lyrics and message of course, but the music video made me ASCEND! There could be an entire two hour long documentary based off of just that one music video and the hundreds of different issues that have been highlighted in there! It’s pure pure genius, there’s no other word for it.

Fearless or Defenceless : My most played track according to my Spotify wrapped and for good reason. It’s the closest thing to a beautifully crafted diss track on that whole album. It’s out for blood. It’s saying fuck you without saying fuck you. It’s showing you the mirror. It’s showing you your painted picture of filth, rotting and decay when you thought you were immortal and above it all (Dorian Gray ref in case that wasn’t clear). It’s beyond beautiful! And he sounds ethereal on it!

Always You or Habit : The way this absolute bop could have been the summer anthem of 2020 had it been marketed properly and given the air time that it deserved! He sings it so well live too, I can totally imagine it killing it at festivals oh so well.

Too Young or We Made It : The message of hope after continued struggle is so strong in this one. I really really hope that he feels this in his core, he HAS made it, we have made it, despite every single reason and obstacle put in his path not to.

Kill My Mind or Walls : KMM my most beloved, my jam, my go to, my life’s theme song if I had to choose one! It’s the kind of music I NEED more of from him, the sound is right up my alley and the imagery is like my entire own personal brand. I resonate with it on another level! Can I please mention here that regarding Walls (which I also absolutely adore) turning the words “for every question why you were my because” which probably wasn’t written as a very positive lyric according to my own personal interpretation of the song, taking that and turning it into the absolute positivity of louies shouting that lyric to Louis and pointing at him whenever he performs it live and making it a positive for him, gives me absolute life. It’s what he’s earned!

Perfect Now or Two of Us : She’s beautiful. She’s heartfelt. She brings me to tears almost every time. And I’m so proud of him to be able to put all of that heartache in a song, with such beautiful words and imagery and promises to his future and past self.

Copy of a Copy of a Copy or Change : Once again, it’s iconic. It’s iconic not only because of the absolute brilliance of the lyrics or the absolute brilliance of HOW AMAZING he sounds on the Live from London version (it could literally be a studio version if it wanted, it’s that flawless), but mostly cuz it can be interpreted in so many different ways, every individual with their own individual issues can take solace from it. You’re not the only one. You’re not the first or last. This too shall pass. It’s been this way for ages. You’ll get through it. You’ll make it out.

Beautiful War or 7 : 7 is beautiful with such a power packed message BUTTTT Beautiful War you guys! Could anyone in their right mind have ever even imagined that there could be a version more beautiful and pure than the original by KOL? No not at all. But that’s the magic of Louis. He sings it like he OWNS that song. Like it’s not meant to be sung any other way than the way he does it. In love!

Drag Me Down or Through The Dark or Little Black Dress : Especially the punk ass way he did it during LFL! It was such a momentTM. Iconic. (I know I’ve used that word to death by now but I can’t find any other words that do justice to the way this man makes music and does all things)!

Live From London or Away From Home Festival : This is too hard! I’m not picking one. I absolutely love both for different reasons! LT Live from London was a day of hope in a time when EVERYONE needed at least a shred! Something anything to hold on to. And boy did he deliver! The entire set was so flawlessly performed that in my opinion it could have literally been studio versions of all those songs. He sounded absolutely amazing. And then fast forward to AFHF and that man somehow manages to sound even more beautiful! Not somehow, we know how! He showed us how, constant persistence, constant hard work, constantly working to better something that most of us felt was already flawless. Can’t even manage to put into words the pride that documentary made me feel for him. And then to top it all off the way that louies were able to interact with him! And him with them! You could just tell it made his heart swell with pride and gave him that feeling of sprouting wings, he felt like a god on that stage, as he should! And I cannot wait for him to feel that way every single night on tour! (take a shot for every time I’ve used an exclamation mark in this paragraph and you’ve got yourself a NYE drinking game)

As usual I’ve rambled on for ages on each of these. Once you get me started I don’t shut up. I can’t contain my fond & pride for this man and his music and his journey. So if you read through all of that, thank you 🤍

I think all my mutuals have already been tagged cuz I’m pretty late to the party tonight, but I'm tagging @quetzal-28 @itsallaboutzayn @polaroidplanets @dreamersdivingheadfirst @a-kiss-is-not-a-promise @louis-the-eternity and anyone else who wants to participate 🤍

#this or that #louis version #I made this #louis tomlinson #loml #hope you all had an amazing NYE btw #mine was pretty great #it’s 5:30 AM and I need some sleep now #also apologies for any typos #I’m half asleep #tag games

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script-nef · 4 years

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No need for jealousy, sweetie | Kageyama Tobio

Category: fluff

2k words; Is it a famous idol? Is it a high-skilled setter? Nope. It's his own son.

Everyone knows Kageyama Tobio, the genius setter of Japan’s national team and a member of The Monster Generation, is a love-struck fool. It’s not that hard to find out, seeing how his normally rigid and scowling face immediately turns soft and full of tender affection as soon as his wife is mentioned. His reaction is the same when his son, who celebrated his first birthday just a few months ago, becomes the topic of conversations as well.

The news of his son’s birth was posted all over Japan’s news as it consisted of a video uploaded onto his SNS account where you were beaming like a sun with your newborn baby in your arms while Tobio was silently crying his eyes out. He then moved to embrace you, words of thanks and love spilling out in between hiccups and cries. You joked that he cried more than you during the labour and everyone in the room was either laughing or comforting him.

You once attended one of his matches with Hikari in your arms, cheering for your husband and his team. As soon as the match was finished and congratulations were given, he zipped to your side and took the baby off of you. Hikari, recognising his father, gurgled joyfully and snuggled deeper into his embrace. As you started talking to Tobio, they both looked at you with an identical expression, like it was copy-pasted, that fans nearby took hundreds of photos. It’s one of the highlights in compilations of “Kageyama in husband mode” videos. (Other popular uploads include interviews where he doesn’t shut up when asked about your health or questions about your relationships. A lot of his fans started liking him thanks to YouTube’s wacky algorithms.)

Tobio is the embodiment of a devoted husband and father. Despite his odd memorisation skill which seemed limited to all things volleyball related, he never once missed an anniversary, birthday or doctor’s appointment. He even excused himself from practices for you. You can still hear how Hinata screamed “You’re skipping volleyball practice? You?” when he delivered the news. Interviews and commentaries after matches were cut short, much to his company and team officials’ dismay, because he couldn’t waste a second returning back to your side. He always repeated “[Name] is waiting. Goodbye.” with a bow and took off. He also wakes up practically instinctively to the baby’s cries even after he’s wiped out due to his rigorous training. The amount of superhuman stamina he has made you jealous since you’re half-dead after exercising a bit while he’s fit as a horse. He says any exhaustion he has evaporates as soon as he sees his son’s cute little face. A weird and floppy smile appeared on his face whenever he took the minuscule hands in his.

Hikari is practically a carbon copy of his father. Same piercing black eyes which look odd but strangely suitable on a one-year-old, smooth black hair growing in tufts and a round face with baby fat filling out his plump cheeks. Tobio sometimes pokes his chubby cheeks while he’s sleeping, hands trembling like he’s about to touch a priceless artifact. If you took a photo now and compared it to one of Tobio’s childhood ones, even he would be confused. They’re just that much alike.

When his teammates and friends visited to celebrate Hikari’s first birthday, their reactions were… quite interesting. Apparently they didn’t expect the child, a genetic offspring from Tobio and you, to have the similarity percentage lopsided to 99 and 1. Hinata argued 99.5 and 0.5 which caused another fight to explode between him and your husband.

It was very childish, the arguments thrown around being the equivalent of “Look at him! Are you sure you didn’t just split into half like that thing with the cell?” “Mitosis, idiot.” “Why are you still so mean, Tsukishima?! But yeah, mitosis!” “What the hell do you think you’re saying, dumbass? He’s so much like [Name]!” “Only you can see that, Mr Wife Idiot!” and so on. It was cut short when Hikari started crying due to the influx in noise and Tobio’s Dad Mode kicked in.

In your eyes, it’s absolutely adorable. Two copies of your favourite face in the world to wake up to and fill your life with. While pregnancy was a pain, right now is paradise. Especially since Hikari is a quiet and calm kid just like his father. By now, you should be concerned if they’re clones rather than father and son.

But recently, Tobio’s kind of miffed at Hikari for some reason. That doesn’t mean he’s neglecting his child, he would rather die than do that. He’s as attentive as ever, if not even more so than usual. Using his overpowered athletic skills to respond to Hikari’s whines or cries much faster than you, he drops everything and runs out at the smallest indication of discomfort. It’s also not because having a baby is a handful, they’re meant to be like that.

No, he’s just incredibly jealous of a one-year-old because “he’s taking up all your time and affection when you promised to love me most in the world”.

When he first said that, your initial reaction was to double-take because you thought you heard him wrong. The thought of “Well. My hearing is failing now” echoed in your head. But no, this dork was being possessive and filled to the brim with envy over his son. His own. Son. As unbelievable as it sounds, it’s kind of in character for Tobio. Tobio who has various epithets like:

King of the Court

Volleyball Idiot

Number 1 Wife Fan

Mr “I have two brain cells and one’s for volleyball and one’s for my wife. A third one is sprouting for my son.”

And plenty of other variations.

So far, the attempt to make him understand the needlessness of his concerns and jealousy haven’t gone well. Generally, it starts with your defence of “Tobio, I love you and Hikari equally.” “You said you would love me the most in the world!” “Fine then, I love you the most in the world.” “I know you’re lying!” “Sweetie, please.” Rinse and repeat.

He turns dejected after every single “fight” and curls up into a ball, refusing to talk to you unless you hug and kiss him. He thinks he’s sneaky and manipulative. He really isn’t, you have him playing in the palm of your hands.

But it’s going to become a real problem if he’s going to be jealous with the tiny tenant who’s going to be around for at least another 2 decades. And the worst thing is that you can’t regularly find advice since his closest friends aren’t… much of a help.

Hinata looked at you like you were crazy in one of your rare meetups. Tsukishima acted like he was actually getting sick from your concerns, that salty bastard. Yachi, kind and helpful and sweet Yachi, was the only one who made valuable contributions with Yamaguchi. It’s such a shame they’re so busy that they can barely have a social life nowadays.

“Hmm… I mean, he stills loves Hikari, right?”

“Yes. Endlessly.”

“Well then… how about treating him exactly the same as you did before Hikari came, if not more affectionately? That’ll show him that his son, his one-year-old son who doesn’t even understand the concept of jealousy, is not a quote-unquote threat.”

“Just threaten to leave him alone for like, a month if he keeps on being possessive. That’ll wake him up.”

“Tsukki!”

“Oh hello, Satan, didn’t think you'd be contributing. How’s roasting the souls of the innocent going?”

“It’s going fine. Would they really be innocent if they’re in Hell?”

“It’s a joke, Sea Salt. Also, that would crush him!”

“That’s the whole point.”

“I think you’re using this just to annoy him.”

“You’re thinking correctly.”

“Back to the topic at hand! [Name]-chan, just reassure and spend a lot of time with him.”

“That’s literally what I’m doing right now! Ughhh what should I dooooo…”

“You know it’s really annoying when lovestruck couples come and complain about their relationship like it’s a problem when in reality you’re happy, right? Just saying.”

“Tsukki, she has a real problem here!”

“Eh, does she though?”

And of course, that line of conversation took off before you could object and continued for the rest of the visit. So all in all, the two-hour lunch date with your friends resulted in a public commotion which nearly got you kicked out of the café. You were about to return home with no solid solutions when Hinata grabbed and stopped you.

“Hinata?”

“[Name]-chan, I’m sure it’s going to be fine. I think he’s just like this because he spent his entire life looking at either volleyball or you, and now that a third party has entered, he’s just not used to it. Time fixes everything or something like that, right?”

“It’s already been a year though…”

“Yeah, well… I’m sure he’s getting better. I remember when we visited you on Hikari’s okuizome, he was literally looking at you for the entire time. The entire time. When it was his son’s 100th day anniversary.”

Yes, Tobio spent the whole 5 hour party/ceremony with his eyes glued onto you, until everyone berated him for his lack of attention. Hinata literally flung a rubber band at his head and he didn’t even flinch. It was the main topic of conversation in your friend circle for the next month or so.

“But when we came again for his first birthday, Kageyama was all over Hikari! I think the transition of his love for you to Hikari is a bit slow, if that makes sense. He probably thinks the love you have for him is getting smaller compared to his love for you. Our Kageyama’s a bit of an idiot like that, right?” You don’t really know whether to nod or shake your head. “The fact that you’re hesitating kind of says everything, [Name]-chan. It’ll get better when his love for Hikari matches yours, okay? Hang in there!”

With a swift but warm hug, Hinata ran off to do his training.

The entire walk back home was filled with ruminations. Hinata was probably right. Kageyama’s attitude was slowly, but surely changing now that you’re thinking back. The ratio of his time with you and Hikari was 9:1 when he was just born, but recently it was more like 8:2. It should be concerning that this is the progress after a year of living together, but it’s better than nothing. You probably have nothing to worry about.

“Tobio, I’m home!” Silence welcomed you back. “Love? You home?” It was one of his rare days off and he said he would be taking care of Hikari so you could enjoy some free time while he can sleep in for the day. Also because his team instructor forbade him from meeting with Hinata since it always ends with a 3 hour volleyball match.

“In here.” A tiny reply emerged from the nursery. He always came running as soon as the front door creaked open like an overgrown puppy since you started living together, so this was surprising. Quietly tiptoeing in, you were met with your baby sleeping soundly in your husband’s arms, sucking on his thumb and sleep-babbling intermittently. Tobio’s face was one of love and pure happiness as he watched Hikari snoozing away like he didn’t have a care in the world—the same face he made when he stared at you. When he raised his head up to look at you, his eyes were filled with joy and warmth, crinkling in the edges.

“He’s so small.” He whispered, careful not to wake Hikari up. You joined him by his side, gently nudging your child’s chubby cheeks and revelling at its softness. “I have this… this feeling in my chest whenever I look at him… the same one whenever I see you.” Tobio’s hand came up to cup your face and he pressed a tender kiss to your lips.

“I love you both so much.”

Yeah, you have nothing to worry about.

#kageyama x reader #kageyama imagine #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu!! one shot #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#kageyama #kageyama tobio #fluff #female reader

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imaginesga1ore · 3 years

Text

Loves Harsh Reality

Summary: Life is a bitch.

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Reader, Avengers x Reader (all platonic)

Warnings: swearing, mention of past/current abuse

Prompt: “You want what everyone wants. You want a love that consumes you. You want passion, and adventure, and maybe even a little danger.”

Word Count: 1780

Do not copy, translate, or post any of my stories anywhere you write stories, whether that’s here, Wattpad, or Ao3.

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Life never treated you well. Not even when you were just an innocent child, trying to navigate your way in this terrible world. You were forced into a cold and unloving organization that was run by people who don’t really give a shit that you were only 2 when they stole you. They never treated you like a human, more like a laboratory experiment, which kind of went haywire. When you were brought in, the sleaze running this entire operation stripped you of everything you had so far, which was only a name you had just barely begun to learn, and they assigned you a number, much like a court case; experiment 973. And that’s what you went by for the next 23 years of your life.

The day you were rescued from that deranged and psychotic place was...hectic to say the least. It began like any other day while you were their little pet; get woken up at the ass crack of you don’t know when, test out your powers until you physically passed out and then get ungracefully woken again only to be forced to use your powers. This continues for hours on end before these assholes make you go fight actual people in hopes that you aren’t lacking in physical strength. You fight until bodies start piling up and when your sadistic handlers are satisfied with your progress, as if you haven’t they haven’t been training you to take down monsters bigger than Goliath himself. But something wasn’t right and you could feel it in the enclosed space of your cell.

While you normally had a rough awakening by someone poking, prodding, and eventually yanking you out of bed, nobody was there. In fact, there wasn’t even a peep from the cells neighboring yours. That was until you heard multiple gunshots and multiple bodies slumping against the floor. See, the thing about HYDRA is that they’ve trained you for this exact moment but every single ounce of training they’ve ingrained in your body and mind left the building completely as you hunkered down against the wall furthest from the thick, metal door barricading you from the outside world.

Suddenly, the door you were just measly standing behind came crashing down, dust from the unwashed floor rising. After the dust settled, you looked up to see the poster boy of HYDRA himself, the Winter Soldier. “Steve, I’ve got a live one here. Female, looks to be in her mid-20s,” he whispered into his ear piece. He slowly moved closer, putting his weapon away as he noticed your frail body shaking from fear. “У тебя все нормально? Я ведь не бил тебя дверью?*” Shaking your head, the soldier stopped in front of you, kneeling next to you. “Меня зовут Баки. Что у тебя?” Shrugging your shoulders, you made an attempt to look over at him. “That’s ok. How long have you been here?”

“двадцать три года*,” you said, a bit of hesitation in your voice, finding it hard to speak after decades of being punished if you spoke out of turn. As you finished speaking, you heard another voice, one which you assumed belonged to this Steve person.

“Хорошо. Стив дал мне добро, чтобы мы могли убираться отсюда,” Bucky said, standing back up on his feet. But you weren’t too sure about this. Along with your training, your handlers had pushed on you the notion that the Avengers, and anyone associated with them, were out to harm you, always, and that’s why you needed to be able to defend yourself.

“Ты ведь не сделаешь мне больно, верно? О-или убить меня,” you asked, clear hesitation towards the soldier who was about to grant you freedom from this hellhole.

Bucky looked at you with sympathy drawn over his features. Shaking his head, he gently grabbed your hands, a shiver traveling up your spine at the coolness from the vibranium arm. “Конечно, нет. Я вытащу тебя отсюда.”

-TIME SKIP-

It had been a few months since the Avengers had rescued you from HYDRA and you were beyond grateful that Bucky had stumbled upon you that day. But the fear that HYDRA had instilled in you about being near the Avengers was still running rampant in your system. Whenever someone knocked on your door, or came up behind you, your fight or flight instincts kicked in like that of an animal in the wild. You thought it’d be better by now, considering you have been going to therapy since coming to the compound. But today, all your frustrations came to a head.

You probably should’ve been in bed considering it was 4 in the morning but you needed to burn off some steam. What you failed to realize was that a certain super soldier was sitting in one of the boxes above the training center, watching your every move. But, him being a super soldier meant that he could pick up on more than you realized. Bucky had noticed that blood dripping onto the floor, which came from your terribly wrapped hands.

He knew you were on edge, but not like you were when he first got you out. By the time that you realized Bucky was in your presence, it was a bit too late. You felt a hand on your shoulder; two seconds later you had the body attached to the arm on the floor, your other arm extending towards their throat, keeping them pinned to the floor.

Once the haze cleared, you could tell who it was that you had down on the ground. “Buck? Oh my god.” Quickly pushing yourself off of him, you started pacing the gym floor. “Fucking shit. I am so sorry Bucky. I-I didn’t mean to do it. Are you ok? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” You kept rambling and pacing until Bucky stopped you, stepping in front of you to stop you from wearing a hole in the floor.

“I am fine, кукла. Are you ok? Your hands are bleeding.” Looking down, you saw the streaks of red coming out from under the tape on your hands. “Let’s go get you fixed up, ok?” Nodding, you followed Bucky out of the gym and towards the medical center. “So, what’s got you going at 4 in the morning anyway?”

“I couldn’t sleep. No matter what I tried. I even tried that tea Wanda suggested. By the way, don’t drink it. It tastes like dirt.” Bucky chuckled as you sat on a gurney, grabbing supplies from the cabinets. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t we wait for, you know, a doctor, or an actual medical professional to come in and do this,” you immediately questioned him.

“Do you seriously doubt my suturing skills? I did serve in World War II, so I’m pretty confident that I know my way around a needle and thread,” he said, carefully unraveling the useless tape from around your knuckles, taking a look at the damage. “Yeah, this’ll probably take a little bit, but don’t you worry, Dr. Barnes is always here to help.” Bucky smiled at you, calming your nerves the tiniest bit.

After prepping and numbing you properly, Bucky began stitching your open wounds shut. “So, do you wanna talk about why you couldn’t fall asleep? Talking might help, at least it usually does for me,” Bucky asked, not taking his eyes off his work in progress.

“I, uh, I keep having nightmares. They went away for a bit, when I could actually sleep for the night, but for some reason, they’ve come back,” you admitted quietly, almost like it was a dirty little secret.

“Well, you’ve only been here a few months so I wouldn’t expect your nightmares to just instantly go away. It took me a few years to actually get a good night's sleep with them waking me or anybody else up. So I know exactly how you feel,” he said, finishing up before wrapping your hands in sterile dressings. “And you are all set. Now, no excessive force, which includes going to the gym at 4 in the morning and working out like you are about to fight the Hulk.” You laughed lightly, shoulders loosening up.

“Why are you being so nice to me? I mean, you just stitched up my hands cause I got too into my own brain after I almost choked you when you could’ve just dropped me here and gone back to bed.” Tears filled your eyes once more, a thickening feeling surrounding your concerns.

Bucky sighed, gingerly sitting next to you on the gurney. “When I found you at the base, I knew it wasn’t going to be an easy ride for you. Or for anyone here really. Adding another member to the team can sometimes jostle things around. And I knew for a fact that you would feel like an outcast amongst some of the biggest heroes the world has ever seen...so far,” he said as you laid your head against his arm, wiping away the tears that had made their way down your face. “And I thought maybe, just maybe, if we became friends or even just acquaintances, that you wouldn’t feel so alone here. Cause I know exactly how that feels. And ever since coming here, I can see what I looked like when I was found; lost, felt like I didn’t deserve anything good or even deserving of love. But even though you hide it with a sort of tough exterior and you’re used to being trapped away, I can tell you something about yourself that you probably don’t even know,” Bucky said in a matter-of-fact voice.

“Oh yeah? What would that be,” you asked, quite curious as to what he may have found out.

“You want what everyone wants. You want a love that consumes you. You want passion, and adventure, and maybe even a little danger. Cause that’s exactly how I feel right now.” At some point, of which you weren’t sure, Bucky had hooked his fingers under your chin, turning your face up to meet his. Your eyes finally met his, capturing the look of a pure and innocent love in his icy stare. He slowly leaned down, but stopping right before your lips collided. “Is this ok?” Quickly nodding, Bucky pressed his lips to your own, cupping your face as your injured hands made their way to his sides.

Pulling back, Bucky rested his forehead against yours. “Never thought that this is how we would have our first kiss, doll,” he said, making you laugh which in turn caused him to chuckle. “But, I’m not at all opposed to it.”

“I’m glad. Now let’s get out of here. I’m tired.”

-----------------------------

1. У тебя все нормально? Я ведь не бил тебя дверью - Are you ok? I didn’t hit you with the door, did I?

2. Меня зовут Баки. Что у те��я? - My name is Bucky. What’s yours?

3. Это хорошо. Как давно ты здесь? - That’s ok. How long have you been here?

4. двадцать три года - 23 years.

5. Хорошо. Стив дал мне добро, чтобы мы могли убираться отсюда. - Ok. Steve gave me the go ahead so we can get out of here.

6. Ты ведь не сделаешь мне больно, верно? О-или убить меня? - You aren’t going to hurt me right? O-or kill me?

7. Конечно, нет. Я вытащу тебя отсюда. - Of course not. I’m going to get you out of here.

8. Кукла - Doll

If you see this on another blog, @multifandomwhre , that is my first blog where I submitted it to @sweeterthanthis “Quote Me” challenge.

#bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes imagine #imaginesmcu #marvel

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