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picnokinesis · 25 days

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Hi!

(A mild panic on the topic of: This is not a question, oh god, this is NOT a question. This is a recommendation of a fandom at BEST.)

So I was reading a fic one day and my brain went very quickly in succession:

a) /Oh/, this is the good stuff

b) No wonder you think so, remember spydoc telepathy edition (And you, Taka, are like an ambassador of that land in my mind)

c) Actually many fics from this fandom are like this

d) Do we think…?

So I had two facts:

1. This is a thing someone I have a great respect for would probably enjoy.

2. There was no indication Taka has seen or engaged in the fandom of Pacific Rim. Despite its notoriety in this neck of the woods due to the concept of drifting in particular.

And what I am doing with those facts is telling you this. I think you are great and I think you would like the fics of Pacific Rim. So if you feel like checking it out, it’s very low effort on entrance. Only one movie to see. Or two. Depends who you ask.

Here are two excerpts to judge for yourself. (Is this a spoiler? I know people for whom this would be a spoiler. For me it’s a tester.)

1) What’s a Little B&E Between Friends? By VoiceOfNurse (Part 20, Chapter 1)

No need to reach for the void, when he was so complete, nestled up against the part of Them that was Hermann.

…safe…

Newt was aware, in as much as Hermann was aware. It was difficult to separate himself out, when Hermann’s mind was locked around him like a steel trap made of numbers and chalk dust and spite. They were one organism in two parts- four lungs, drawing breath, two hearts beating in time. There was cold, and there was pain, but it was far away.

There is no room for (masters-monsters-precursors) here. They are (insects-vermin-insignificant) when faced with (memory-language-connection). We are (brilliant-unstoppable-rockstars). We are (music-logic-science). We are (Newt-and-Hermann) and they are nothing.

2) What’s a Little B&E Between Friends? By VoiceOfNurse (Part 20, Chapter 2)

They were Drifting. Tendo couldn’t quite work out the whys and hows of it, especially now that he was being bitten to within an inch of his fucking life, but he was certain. He’d hurt Hermann by moving too fast, probably jostled the guy’s leg, actually, which was folded weirdly under him with Newt on top, but the closest set of teeth bit him. Newt wasn’t even conscious in the traditional sense of the word, but Hermann was. Hermann was, and apparently Newt’s teeth were available to rectify the situation. Newt’s urges, too, because Tendo didn’t really picture Hermann as a biter.

HELLO MY FRIEND oh my days I'm SO sorry but I'm laughing so much because this probably happened because tumblr search function is useless but 'no indication' sksksksk, oh my sweet summer child: here's the pacific rim tag on my blog LMAO - or, even better, the entire pacrim au I came up with for s12 of doctor who one time. Also. Also. Buddy. This is so funny, I love you so much. Are you aware that I'm obsessed with the works of one of the biggest Pacific Rim fanfic writers ever? I did, to be fair, literally take their name off my blog description yesterday to replace it with Bloodywood instead, and I'm more on the Stargate Universe side of things these days - but cleanwhiteroom is one of my favourite authors, and I read Designations Congruent with Things before I touched any of their Stargate material. If, my dear anon, you've not heard of cwr, then I really highly recommend their stuff, but I'll add a link below and see if I can dig up the other fic that I really loved from back in the day. Thank you for the fic rec though!! Those excerpts look excellent haha, I shall check that fic out when I get chance because you're absolutely right I love that kind of thing.

(also, absolutely DELIGHTED that you read this sort of stuff and thought of me - that is SUCH an honour oh my days! Like...rancid spydoc telepathy ambassador....what a title, I'm dead chuffed at this haha bless you!)

I think this is just so funny to me because - you couldn't possibly know this, of course, but like you know where I got this from? This love for writing weird, messed up mental connections between people?

Pacific Rim fanfiction HAHAHAHAHA

(and, later SGU - but I mean, mostly just cleanwhiteroom tbh. I was 16yo and I imprinted okay. But there were also other fics too, and they had an influence. Guh, Newt/Hermann post-drift fics are PEAK man)

Okay but actually let me tell you the story of how I got into pacrim because I think it's hilarious. So most people get into fandoms by like, yknow. Watching the film, reading the book, seeing the show, etc. I mean, how else would you do it? I'll tell you how. I was pottering about on deviantArt, back in the the grand old year of - oh, it must have been 2014. 2015? Something like that. Anyway, I stumbled across some Newt and Hermann fanart, and I didn't know the fandom but I was intrigued and REALLY liked the artstyle (I think the artist was feriowind?) - anyway I went on their profile and was MORE intrigued when I found they'd done some gorgeous cover art for THIS FIC, which got me so curious that I decided to read it. Without having watched the film. What I did was: read the plot summary on wikipedia, watched a couple of newt and hermann fanvids/clips (LIKE THIS ONE) so I could see them/hear their voices right, and then just blitz on through the fic with google images open in another tab so I could google thing like 'the shatterdome' and 'the LOCCENT pacific rim' and stuff like that for visual reference SKKSSK. Damn this is a throwback, I'm having a great time. ANYWAY. Read the fic. Loved it. Read the sequel. LOVED IT. Started looking for more fanart and stuff like that - and found a bunch of people kept on mentioning this fic called Designations Congruent with Things. Searched it up, found it on ao3, read the first 6 chapters and it almost melted my brain LMAO so I stopped. Then I couldn't stop thinking about it and I came back to it and oh my days. Oh my days. It fully rewrote my brain and DAMN I was obsessed. By this point I was vibrating in place at the mere thought of actually SEEING THE FILM, YKNOW. The film I'd read hundreds of thousands of words of fanfic about. Anyway, my friend who got secret santa for me that year literally had the easiest job on the planet HAHAHAHA so I watched it on Christmas Day and it was so so funny because like. You probably are aware of how much damn lore this film has. Like I knew the names of most of the jaegers that aren't even mentioned in the movie, I knew about Caitlin Lightcap and Sergio D'onofrio, but I had NO IDEA what was extended canon and what was fanon and what was actually. Y'know. In the film. So when I watched it I was like BUT WHERE'S LIGHTCAP for most of it HAHAHAH, but yeah it was great. SO GREAT. Guh I love the concept of the drift SO SO MUCH it's absolutely fascinating and just. AHH!! So so good.

Anyway. Absolutely losing it, bless. Sorry this is all over the place, I'm very tired but my goodness. Yes. Talk to me about drift bonds any day of the week, I'm here for it. If you want cleanwhiteroom fics, you can find them here. I linked the other one above, but there were a couple of others I read too...like I read a LOT of fics, and this was before I had an ao3 account rip so I don't have it in my fic reading history. There was one called Occam's Razor that I read a lot of, but I don't think I finished it. OH but I also liked this one (that i thought I found but it turned out to be the wrong one, am looking again now lol), from after Pacific Rim 2!! Which, as a film, I mostly consider to just be like. A fanfic with an exceptionally high budget ksksksks so yknow. I don't hate it because I don't consider it canon as much as I consider anything outside the original film canon. ANYWAY LOVE YOU

#SKSKSKSK I'M JUST LAUGHING SO MUCH I'M CRYING #BLESS YOUR HEART #i mean you're not wrong!! you are in fact absolutely right!!!#i definitely would enjoy this fandom!!!#taka replies #anon #pacific rim #<- here's my tag if you need it on mobile #cwr #cleanwhiteroom #cwr influenced so much of my writing style it's unreal #literally had a comment today mentioning that exactly phenomenon which ALSO made me cackle #bless you guys hahahaha #needed this today #thank you for bringing me a lot of joy #i love remembering old hyperfixations #fic #fic rec #long post

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aroacehanzawa · 1 year

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they weren't kidding in the post that's like "me reading my own fic: wow this caters to all of my specific needs" because i keep rereading my own writing and giggling for this exact reason

#they also weren't kidding when they said that creating things with your own hands and brains #really does bring joy incomparable to mindless media consumption!#anyway back to business i do actually have a longer odazai fic that's been brewing for months but that one takes more planning and research #i only have a 1k draft of the introduction written down so the rest will have to be a post-exams summer holiday project #it's the long goodbye AU i've mentioned before #i think i'll make it vaguely historical (either 1930s like the original book or 1970s like the movie adaptation)#although that would be purely for aesthetic and not really affect the plot in any way. i just want to have some raymond chandler references #in there especially when i'm not skilled enough to emulate his writing style #wait no actually the lack of mobile phones and high tech surveillance could actually work in my favour #well anyway not now. i need to study for exams first jhjfdhkjdhg

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shleemies · 1 year

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Lately I've been going through a lot. I've been experiencing a lot of transphobia on top of my depression and PTSD. I've been struggling a lot with creativity and what art means to me, in addition to being in a ceramics class while my wrists are having a huge flare up making the wheel work I want to do near impossible. I see trans bodies celebrated in art and it means the world to me. I wonder why do I feel unable to do the same? Coming to terms with the fact that I still carry a lot of internal shame surrounding my body and my sexuality. This is not sexual artwork to me, more of a self portrait. More of a love letter to myself. I brought clay home to work with and kept scrapping everything I tried to make, until I sort of accidentally made a t dick. I thought about it, planned it in my head, and started it over with intention. It's been such a struggle to enjoy making art. And I enjoyed making this. Going over familiar curves, smoothing out the cracks and bending the clay in a way that felt so natural. I want to fire this piece and maybe even add underglazes to it, but I'm still so nervous because it's a classroom setting where multiple people will see it and handle it if I don't make time to load and unload it from the kiln myself, which I probably won't. But why should I feel ashamed? Cis women make art of their vaginas all the time. Breasts too. Someone a few weeks ago had a mug decorated with naked gay men they made in class. Trans bodies deserve the same respect and love as cis bodies. I love my body. I just want to show trans bodies are normal and nothing to be ashamed of. I don't have anywhere I share things like this, so it's going here. I may have a breakdown later and end up scrapping it, I might not. I love being trans and I love every trans body. Trans bodies are nothing to be ashamed of. What will I do with the finished piece? No idea. Where does one put a porcelain penis? Perhaps I could make it a wall piece. But despite what I may or may not do with this, it was really important for me to share this. I love my body. If I could only sculpt trans dick for the rest of my life I think I'd be happy. Something to do with trans existence being a constant experience in self creation. Every trans body is a work of art. I am endlessly creating myself and I think that beautiful.

#nudity #please let me know any tags i should add to this #ftm #my art #theres a lot more i was going to go into but i like keeping this post a little lighter #i know i dont usually like post dicks on here or anything. probably wont again. or maybe i will. who knows #if readmores worked on mobile id add one. appologies #but um feel free to like and reblog my intention is to share my art and experience #since its kinda personal i just wanted to make clear that its okay. but also no pressure or anything lol #i dont have the braincells today to write as eloquently as id like but thats okay #trans love #trans joy #trans pride #i love my transgender self #i am enough. it is not important to change myself to make myself palatable or desireable to anyone #being openly myself is the best choice i get to make every day #also its not finished im drying it out a bit before i touch it up

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4giorno · 4 months

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and yes im replaying my otc (one true character) again 1. because of the clown make up but 2. bc when i looked at astarion in a thumbnail of a yt video recommendation i thought 'i dont even know you anymore'

#hkddidkdk it is that serious!!!!!#none of my other characters have him in the party so seeing that image i was truly like '🎵 whooooo is that girl i seeee🎵'#and thank GODDD i did bc this way i discovered that all the other times getting gale was overriding some camp dialogue with astari0n #and shad0wheart AND bc having gale and getting that overriding scene triggers astari0n sneaking into the woods which THEN overrides #a brief scene of introspection from your main character #so yes by long resting somehow EVEN MORE frequently i was able to get even more dialogue with my faves that i missed #and to me extremely importantly a scene that adds more development to my beloved aka my character #but listen...... i dont know if i can do this...... idk if i can have wyll being a warlock 🤧🤧🤧#i like to have pure class builds for everyone in my (one true) characters campaigns to keep it more authentic to me #but i just cant make myself play warlock a single time more it just sucks every bit of joy from my being ⚰️#like i gotta do 4 warlock/8 paladin right? its lore accurate right 🥹🥹🥹🥹#(okay i just read these tags and the sentence structure/grammar is actually unforgivable #but in my defense its 8am and i havent slept and writing tags on mobile is hard bc you cant see what youve written ⚰️#maybe you can still get what i was trying to say even tho some of the parts of sentences dont connect 🥹)#(actually no its not understandable at all. the 'thank godddd i did' in the beginning is referring to me starting this replay. this is #the only correction i have the energy to make hjffkjdkdkd)

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patrice-bergerons · 1 year

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I just love how tetchy James gets when he is in pain (whether emotional or physical) and how Robbie can read him on this by season 5 you know 🥲

#itv lewis #lessons have been learned from the lbof and dead of winter experiences #but also #it really does make me want to write fic #in which james breaks his foot badly or busts a knee or sthing #so his mobility is limited AND it hurts like a bitch AND he has to rely on ppl a littlr to get by #which activates his must never be a burden instincts #and the end result is just a very tetchy james indeed #and robbie. who is like. regrettably /this/ is the light of my days the joy of my life #ahhhh i think I have a wip i can dig out actually #ha!

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haettr · 8 months

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i can’t wait to throw this virgo woman @ y’all

#i love writing earth signs ok #as someone w no earth placements #it brings me much joy #mobile.

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antihcroes · 1 year

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okay but kate wallis and joy from room are coded the same way and if kate hadn’t shot martin then she very well could’ve ended up like joy, tell me i’m wrong -

#( ooc )#( mobile )#(joy yelling at her mom abt how if she hadn’t raised her to be so nice maybe she wouldn’t have helped the guy with the sick dog)#(& kate yelling at her mom abt how she raised her to be blind & obdient & trusting & martin took advantage of that)#(are the same damn scenes - this is even more ironic given that kate’s mom is named joy but like)#(fr - honestly if i ever give kate an older fc tempted to make it brie)#murder tw #kidnapping tw #grooming tw #ask to be further tagged #(also yeah i can’t shut up abt kate apparently we’re having a mini brainrot here)#(dw steve is still the main one)#(& also also i’ll actually write today i would very much like to)#long tags tw

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dr-felitas · 1 month

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to love is to learn

synopsis: aventurine is still unexposed to the many concepts of this world. but that doesn't mean he won't try to get to know them if it's for you.

pairing: aventurine x reader | wordcount: 1.0k | content & warnings: hurt/comfort, insecure aventurine, established relationship, my ass wrote this in an hour and its super late rn i just wanna upload this and my lazy ass did NOT proofread this + im on mobile so hell, kinda HELLA rushed ; ficlet

a/n: just the other day me and azul were talking about what body parts of aven would be sensitive and we got to his collarbone and azul said that he thinks that it'd be super evident so i pointed out that it might be cause he was used to starvation and barely ate even when he got to the ipc/had the chance to do so. SO I JUST HAD TO WRITE SMTH.

tags: @azullumi

aventurine shudders under your touch. your nimble fingers trace across his collarbone, featherlight movements, touch so delicate, it makes him tremble.

the pads of your digits lightly dance across his clavicle, one finger turns into two. your index swiftly slides over the pale skin that separates the bone that lies underneath. while your thumb starts inching closer the neckline of his satin pajama, diving beneath. at that he can't help but flinch.

“oh god.” he laughs out. “someone's being touchy today.” his voice is filled with joy. hearing, seeing, knowing that aventurine has fun around you, makes you crave for more. his laugh is an intoxicating drug. something that you'll always long for, absorbing it until every part of your body is stained with the tantalising essence and puts you to your demise.

you don't stop your actions, instead continuing to glide your fingers along his delicate body. “sorry, for i couldn't help it!” a giggle escapes your mouth.

“i just thought about how pretty it is.” you let out a small hum.

“my collarbone? pretty, how come?” he's confused, what is the beauty you see within his body?

his body is fragile. it's a hollow shell he carries around. ugly and not worthy of your attention even less your admiration, abused and marked in burns. when the digits that he carries around like a sacred body part of his, roughly engraved on his neck, come in contact with any kind of substance, liquid or his own fingers. he's reminded of the mishap his body was or rather is in. how it was abused and dragged through the mud.

putting his calloused fingers around the tattoo, stings. the touch lingers like a nostalgic scent which still remains on an old piece of clothing, one that has never been washed so the smell never fades away. it burns up at the slightest touch. hurting just as much as when it was freshly inflicted onto his young body.

kakavasha doesn't even know what he looks like. the only person he sees in the mirror is aventurine. sure he walked past puddles of dirty rain back in his childhood, reflecting his younger self, but the images are vague and blurry. he doesn't know what kakavasha looks like and he probably never will.

and neither do you. the only thing you have in front of you right now is aventurine. a shattered soul that doesn't know where it belongs. his being consists of a thousand fragments, they're scattered thoughts that are similar to broken mirror shards.

they reflect the tales of his heart and reveal its greatest desire. mirroring those untold stories like the surface of the water. thoughts and wishes that are full of pureness, almost childlike.

the broken pieces that make up the man who's named aventurine long for a haven which he can call a safe space - a home. but on the other hand he thinks that he's not permitted to find such a place, that he's not allowed to stay, undeserving of it.

“no particular reason. i just like the way it stands out, it's easy to find and trace.” the words that roll off your tongue sting. they probably hurt as much as a paper cut you've received as a little kid, but it's not like kakavasha knows or is able to relate - he didn't get to grow up like the other children. but he can't blame you, you're oblivious to his past.

his body has gone through physical and emotional abuse. beat ups, labor or starvation. the reason why his collarbone is so evident, the face you adore is so slim, and his rips slightly poke through his body, is all because kakavashas hunger has never been satisfied and the dryness in his throat has never been quenched.

even after he put on the mask of the man who calls himself aventurine - a wealthy man, who’s a member of the ten stone hearts that makes more money than he spends, he's still reluctant when it comes to eating. of course he could buy all the delicacies that kakavasha never got to try - never even knew, but he hesitates.

the concept of chewing and swallowing the bits is still something aventurine can't befriend himself with. it's unfamiliar - he's not used to it, the feeling of a full stomach, what it's like to be satisfied after a meal. it's something foreign to him, a feeling he's not sure he'll ever get accustomed to.

he doesn't think he deserves to eat. to know what it feels like to be full, the rumbling that comes from his stomach is the one he grew up with is what brought him here. he fears that if he gets too comfortable with something or someone he'll forget who he is.

a lost soul that mourns after the past, but saved itself from the dark abyss, freeing itself. not allowing himself to get too close, always keeping everyone that comes near him at an arm's length. worrying he might grow too attached.

so why is he still here? here with you, chattering happily and conversing freely, he doesn't deserve it - he doesn't deserve you.

but is it wrong to be selfish for once? he knows the answer already: it is. but he can't help it, not when you coax him into this position, one which he can't leave, no matter how hard he tries.

“i love you.” you trace the letters along his neck, over the tattoo that is engraved on his skin.

you don't need a verbal answer to know that he feels the same way. perhaps, he himself hasn't realized it yet but he's conveyed his love for you many times already. just like now as he continues to lie in bed with you.

the both of you are oblivious, but that doesn't mean that either of you will stop in your tracks, turn back and leave. (even though he sometimes wishes to do so)

both satisfaction and love are two unfamiliar concepts for aventurine. but he'll try to get to know them. for the sake of you.

#toorurs #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #aventurine x reader #aventurine hsr #hsr aventurine #aventurine imagines #kakavasha x reader #aventurine fluff #kakavasha fluff #aventurine

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thebibliosphere · 4 months

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I wrote this entire god damn thing on the Patreon mobile app because the desktop editor kept breaking.

Anyway. Get in, bestie; we're doing a year-round buddy system.

(the writing desk in question) (sorry for lack of ID my hands are killing me)

#patreon

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luveline · 1 year

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hi hi honey! so i sent this request before but tumblrs been eating my asks so i’m gonna send it again,

i’m the person who asked about the kisses before dinner universe and so since u said u hadn’t gotten any requests for it i wanted to send u one! u mentioned that it was quite nerve wracking the first time reader got pregnant so maybe u could do a blurb where steve’s just comforting her and reassuring her during that time? if u want something more simple, it could just be a small blurb of how their night goes when reader comes home from work or something? ty and i hope tumblr actually ate my request and i’m not bombarding u with this again :(have a good day lovely ❤️

i love kisses before dinner i wanna write a thousand blurbs for them, thank you for requesting! here's steve and u when ur pregnant the first time with avery <3 fem!pregnant!reader

You're more young than you'd planned to be, the first time. Young and terrified.

Steve knows how scared you are, and though he hasn't suggested anything again since the first time you'd made up your mind, you know that any path you take is the one he wants to take with you. Having his support makes it easier, but it certainly doesn't make it easy.

Pregnancy is terrifying. It can make you so sick. It can kill you. So while it's beautiful, and Steve insists it's doing numbers for your complexion, it's gruelling.

You're not even that pregnant yet and still you're fucking tired.

"Stevie?" you call, or try to, voice hoarse with fatigue.

He emerges rather than answer, arms open wide and waiting. "Hey, sweetheart."

And that's new. Steve has always been a "babe" or "baby" kind of guy. Your pregnancy has made him soft.

He's careful not to press against your stomach though it doesn't hurt even slightly when he does, abdomen held away from the small swell of your bump as he gets his arms under your armpits, hands rubbing over your shoulder blades. "Hello," he says sweetly, kissing your cheeks, your chin. "I missed you so much." He hesitates for a second, and then he lets a hand slide between your bodies.

You lean back to let him know it's okay.

"And you," he adds, palm flat over your stomach, "I missed you, too."

"I don't feel very well."

He nods. "Alright. Come and sit down."

That's another one of his insistences. Total, awful honesty. Pregnancy is full of problems, like morning sickness and heartburn and back ache and nausea and headaches. It leaves you stressed and exhausted, and Steve had made it very clear that any complaining was welcomed.

You know, in your heart of hearts, that he's more excited for this baby than you are. He's terrified, too, but he's brimming with joy half the time, so eager to meet whoever it is that comes out on the other side. And you know he feels indebted to you, though he shouldn't. You want this baby a lot.

But Steve aches for them. He's gonna be a great dad.

Right now, he needs to be an amazing boyfriend almost husband.

I don't want a pregnancy proposal, you'd said.

His guilty smile had given him away fast. I want to marry you.

And I want to marry you, Stevie, I do. But not because we're having a baby.

In your mind, he's not your husband or your boyfriend, he's your Steve, as silly as it sounds. He's your everything. He's the only thing getting you through this.

Steve sits you down on a cushion in the kitchen and plants another kiss on top of your head. You haven't lost any mobility yet, but the pleasure of being cared for so deeply makes it hard to turn him down when he guides you around like this. Though, sometimes, when you're cranky, you complain about being babied. He takes it all in stride.

He cracks open a cold bottle of water and gives it to you. Then he turns back to the chopping board next to the stove and finishes what he'd been doing before you arrived, funnelling slices fruit into the colander. He rinses it, and then he pours it into a bowl and puts it in front of you.

"You want peanut butter?" he asks, wrapping his arms slowly and carefully across your shoulders, chin hooked over your shoulder. "Honey? I could melt down some chocolate?"

You pick up a shimmering slice of watermelon and tip your head back to feed him.

"Salted caramel?" he asks as he chews.

You smile softly at him and lift your chin until he gets the memo, leaning down enough for you to kiss the side of his mouth.

"Stevie," you say, because he's so fucking lovely and you love him and not everything hurts when he's around, "I love you. I hope you know how much."

He blinks at you, swallowing hurriedly. "I know," he says.

"Okay, good."

"You think I don't know? Sweetheart, you're carying our kid."

"But if I weren't, I'd still love you this much."

He softens like taffy in the sun, rubbing the tip of his nose into your cheek adoringly. "If you weren't, I'd still love this much, too."

You breathe him in, the wet crush of watermelon between you and his lingering aftershave.

"But you are," he says eventually, kissing your cheek again and then pulling back. "So you better tell me if you want peanut butter of chocolate."

You choose. Steve is delighted, spoiling you with fruits and toppings and asking about work as he starts to make dinner instead. That's another conversation you've already had — he's still working now, but when the baby comes, he's gonna stay home even after maternity leave ends. And if you change your mind and want to stay home instead, that'll be okay too. He's a dream like that. Accommodating your every want and wish.

And so, he's teaching himself how to cook. It's more hit than miss, shockingly, and almost always nutritionally golden.

"Broccoli again?" you ask, trying to hide your amusement.

"Our munchkin's gonna be the healthiest kid ever. TV dinners are for schmucks."

You aren't sure he'll be saying that when he actually has a kid. "She won't be able to eat broccoli for the first six months."

"She wont," he agrees, clearly overjoyed at the idea of a little girl, "but when she can, she's gonna love it."

The fruit is nice and then not. You might've overindulged, or maybe your stomach's being sensitive, but suddenly it smells very strong and you have to push it away, keeling in on yourself with a sigh.

Steve doesn't fuss dramatically, but he does fuss, hand hesitant behind your shoulders.

"You need a bucket, baby?"

"No, I-" Saliva pools in your mouth. "Maybe."

He's swift, kneeling in front of you with the bucket positioned at your feet, hand sliding between your legs to find your hand where it's kneeding your aching stomach.

"She's bullying you, huh?" he asks sympathetically.

"She's barely the size of an apple," you moan, sweat prickling across your brow. "How can she do this to me?"

He strokes the inside of your hand with both thumbs. "She doesn't mean to."

You know that.

Eventually the sickness subsides. You don't throw up. Steve seems as happy as you do about this, kissing your hand with a very apologetic expression.

"I'm sorry," he says.

You lean back in your chair, back already aching, and pull him up onto his feet. If he's surprised at your strength he doesn't say anything, only closes you in again with his arms over your shoulders and his cheek pressed to your warm forehead.

"Don't be. We knew-" You laugh. "I knew this would be hard. I knew it would suck. But I want to do this with you."

"Even though you're scared," he murmurs.

"Even though I'm scared."

His hugs are a balm, always. You melt with relief the longer he holds you, listening to the pot simmering on the stove, lid rattling, steam whistling out of the gap. There's a fondness in his hands you find difficult to describe, devotion or something similar, big palms roving the lengths and slopes of your arms and back like you're made of the most precious thing on earth.

"I won't let anything happen to you."

That's sobering. You suppose you can fall into dramatics about it. Pregnancy is solemn, but it's also completely normal. Millions of people are pregnant right this second. You smile into his jaw, breath hot as you laugh.

"I know, baby," you say, more cheerful than you've sounded all night. "Promise."

He laughs too.

"My girl," he says, too much like the song. You're worried he's gonna start singing. Actually, you might like it.

"Can we listen to the radio?"

"Depends. Will you dance with me?"

You dance with him. You suppose it's a good idea to get all your dancing out now while you can, because in a month or two you'll have cankles, and not long after that you'll have your arms full. He pulls you in and spins you out, brown eyes dancing with a brand new happiness, silky hair falling in perfect layers either side.

"I hope she has your eyes," you say. The shape of them.

"I hope she's your carbon copy," he says, twirling you around, radio hiding the clumsy patter of your socked feet. "A mini you. God, what will I do then? I can barely say no to you."

"You never say no to me."

"Exactly."

He smiles so hard his lashes kiss in the corners, a pleased squinting grin. He can say what he likes. If she doesn't get his smile you'll riot.

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #pregnant!reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things 4 #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #kisses before dinner universe #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x pregnant!reader #steve harrington x reader fluff #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

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undercoverpena · 5 months

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THINGS TO LEAVE IN 2023

presented by your friendly neighbourhood jo ✨🩷

✨ being an arsehole: this doesn’t just apply to your fellow writers, gif makers or readers, but also to yourself. if you talk crap to yourself, you’re giving permission for others to talk to you in the same way.

✨ writing things you don’t like: so, you’re mid-series and you’re not feeling it. the worst that can happen is your wip is abandoned, and some people might be a touch annoyed? I know it feels bad, but also, by pushing yourself you risk burn out, writing sub-par work you hate and feeling disinterest in the thing you loved doing. overall, not good for either you or readers, so.

✨ feeling guilty for putting yourself first: there is only one you. sometimes we have to draw a line in the sand and put our hands up and go “I cannot do this rn” and that is okay. we also need to know which people to walk away from, which things to give our time to and continue to protect our energy. it takes a second to deplete our batteries and several business days for it to return—remember that.

✨ things that don’t bring us joy: whether that’s your mobile theme, a fandom, a pairing, a character, the list goes on, but let’s do the things we want to in 2024. let’s also surround ourselves with people who lift us up and let’s choose things which make us smile. let’s also celebrate ourselves a bit more, cause we’re all fucking amazing.

✨ the notion of “to write X you need to have Y”: the beauty of fandom is that we’re all playing around in a playground with a bunch of swing sets, slides and sand boxes. you want to write X!character going to space, go for it. (pls be sure to label and mark warnings for people tho, it’s not cute to blindside people).

and because I’m a believer of growth, here are some things I’m gonna promise to do more of in 2024:

➡️ begin accepting compliments and not moon-walking away: because I know by not accepting them, I’m both telling myself they’re not true and also possibly running the risk of telling those who are complimenting me their opinion doesn’t matter. be easy on me though.

➡️ apologising for silly things: I’m gonna slip up, but I’m going to try and stop apologising for writing too much, being a bother (more so when I say hi and strike a convo) and for my mental health.

feel free to reblog and add on one or two goals you hope to do in 2024 ✨

#jo’s thoughts #this is just something I’ve been pulling together over the week #I love setting goals #(achievable goals)#and also being a supporting and kind space

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writing-with-sophia · 7 months

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How to write an elderly main character?

I'm back! Because school is quite busy and I'm about to take exams, I don't have time to post new articles. I wonder if anyone remembers me. (probably not, lol)

There are many novels that feature elderly as main characters, for example, "The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared" by Jonas Jonasson or "Our Souls at Night" by Kent Haruf. Today, I'll show you a few tips for writing this type of character.

When writing an elderly main character, it's important to approach the portrayal with sensitivity, authenticity, and a nuanced understanding of the aging process. Here are some tips to consider when developing an elderly main character:

Characterization: Create a well-rounded character with depth and complexity. Consider their personality traits, background, life experiences, and values. Remember that elderly individuals, like people of any age, can have diverse personalities and interests. Give your character hobbies, interests, and passions that reflect their individuality and bring richness to their life. Older adults can have a wide range of hobbies, such as gardening, art, music, or storytelling, which can add depth to their character.

Realism: Research and understand the aging process. Gain insights into the physical, cognitive, and emotional changes that commonly occur in older adults. This will help you create a realistic portrayal of your elderly character and avoid stereotypes or misconceptions.

Language and Dialogue: Reflect the character's age and life experience in their language and dialogue. Consider the vocabulary, speech patterns, and cultural references that may align with their generation. However, be cautious not to overuse stereotypes or make assumptions about their language abilities.

Challenges and Strengths: Portray the challenges and strengths that come with aging. Depict the character's struggles with age-related issues such as health concerns, memory loss, or changes in mobility. These changes can impact how your character interacts with the world and inform their daily routines and challenges. Also, highlight their resilience, wisdom, and life experience as sources of strength.

Relationships and Interactions: Explore the character's relationships with people of different ages, including family members, friends, and younger individuals. Show how their interactions and perspectives may differ from those of younger characters, while also highlighting the potential for intergenerational connections. This can involve exploring intergenerational conflicts, mentorship, or the passing down of wisdom and traditions.

Avoid Ageism: Be mindful of ageist stereotypes or biases and avoid perpetuating them in your portrayal. Treat the character with respect and dignity, highlighting their agency, autonomy, and ongoing personal growth.

Emotional Depth: Explore the character's emotional landscape, including their joys, fears, regrets, and aspirations. Show their emotional growth and the ways in which they navigate and adapt to life's challenges.

Seek Input: Consider seeking input or feedback from older adults or conducting research to gain firsthand insights into their experiences. This can help ensure an authentic portrayal and avoid generalizations or assumptions.

Life History: Develop a backstory for your character that encompasses their life experiences, significant events, and milestones. Consider how their past has shaped them and influenced their perspectives, values, and motivations.

Cultural Context: Take into account the cultural and historical context in which your character grew up and lived their life. Different generations may have distinct cultural references, societal expectations, or historical events that have influenced their worldview.

Social Roles: Explore the roles your character has played throughout their life, such as parent, grandparent, spouse, or professional. Consider how these roles may have evolved over time and how they perceive their identity in relation to these roles.

Please remember that every character is unique, and individual differences should be considered when writing an elderly main character. Approach the portrayal with empathy, respect, and a commitment to representing the complexity and richness of older individuals' lives.

If you want to read more posts about writing, please click here and give me a follow!

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nymphie66 · 6 months

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God Bless America pt 3

Part One

Part Two

Description: Things are back on track between you and Ben, and you've found a sort of peace. Vought is determined to ruin that.

Author's note: This hyperfixation is really serving. This may be the last part of this mini-fic, as I've literally just been writing things as they've entered my mind and they just happen to be cohesive. But who knows! Uni starts up again imminently, hopefully I'll catch a break. Feel free to send in prompts or scenarios and I could probably bang something drabbley out. Also, thank you everyone for your support, I love each and every one of you motherfuckers.

Warnings: gore, darkfic -kinda, this came out slightly fluffy (don't know what happened there lol), mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sex, swearing, implied forced testing, cringey language

S/N : Supe Name

Suit: random office worker that I didn't bless with a name or description

---

You span in your desk chair in absolute boredom, hands on your swollen belly, the only modicum of joy you got was from the movements of your darling baby, only four more months to go now.

Which is why you were sat in said desk chair, in a Vought meeting room with a bunch of suits from HR and legal, negotiating over your maternity leave and, much to his horror, Ben's paternity leave.

He couldn't understand why he would have to take time off as well. As he put it "My part is done, I got my soldiers to your base, your turn to lead the charge." After saying such a thing he promptly had the nearest object in your vicinity thrown at him.

You tried to explain to him, that you would need help as the pregnancy progressed, that there could be complications leaving you bed-bound till it was time to push the little one out into the world, that you could even be hospitalised. You expected him to put his fingers in his ear and start singing the national anthem at you, desperate to drown you out, but what happened instead shocked you.

He stilled, and you could see the thoughts churning in his head, and gradually his brow furrowed and he turned away from you. You walked towards him, arms encircling his waist, face pressed against his back, the texture of his soft cotton jersey brushing against your cheek. You knew exactly what he was doing.

Ben cleared his throat and took a sharp inhale of breath. He couldn't show weakness in front of you, especially not now. It wasn't the manly- let alone fatherly- thing to do. But he felt that resolve weaken by the way you held him so tenderly, leaned into his back so softly. It reminded him of the earlier days in your relationship, when you trusted him so blindly, believed in him so faithfully.

He'd get home from work, usually in a pissy mood, ranting and raving about whatever fuckery his team had put him through. And you would be there, smile on your lips, eyes filled with joy just at the sight of him. You'd listen, never probe but when he was just winding himself up, you would circle your arms around his waist and press your face into his back, leaning on him for support. The action was simple but made him feel like he was your whole world, that he was all you needed, that he was enough.

Things were better now. Ben had followed your instruction to the morbid T, and in turn, you allowed his presence, tolerated it even, though you soon fell back into the trap of loving him wholeheartedly again. The way he doted on you, adored you, the way you were 'his girl' again.

It didn't mean that things were perfect - far from it. You still had the occasional shouting match that led to the replacement of many crushed/shattered mobile phones, and though you wouldn't admit it, your attachment to Ben had become positively possessive. If his gaze strayed from you for more than a minute, you could feel yourself freeze up, a blend of uncouth rage and desperation flooding you that was only sated when he looked back at you again. You were needy, and it was pathetic- to you, not to him, he found it hot as fuck and told you so.

Ben would press a hand to your lower back, hover smugly above your ear and whisper assurances to you, though they were less than PG. Often involving a detailed description of him fucking you in front of whoever you were jealous of. You blamed the pregnancy hormones, but every time he did it you wanted him to make good on his promises and you quickly escorted him to a (mostly) private section of wherever you were.

In fact, as you sat there, listening to the drone of legal and HR, you realised that you had been in this meeting room before. Though you could hardly blame yourself, you didn't really take in decor when you bent over the conference table, getting your brains fucked out. You cursed yourself for not making Ben read that pregnancy book earlier, ever since he found out making you cum was good for the baby, the man was on a mission - not that he wasn't before, but there was definitely an added level of determination that you appreciated.

"So it's agreed? S/N will start her maternity leave now and once she reaches her third trimester Soldier Boy will start his paternity leave." Your Vought legal representative consolidated. You tuned back into the conversation, hopeful that this meeting was finally coming to an end.

"Agreed, we have already arranged for the samples to be taken in the next half-hour if S/N is ready?" The other suit asked, casting you an expectant look. You froze, your hand gripping your bump and leaned forward, a panicked look directed to your rep, but before you could continue the suit continued. "May I remind S/N that it is in her signed contract that sample matter from a resulting pregnancy is legally Vought's to take. This includes amniotic fluid, blood and foetus tissue sample."

You felt your stomach lurch and you swallowed thickly, you didn't argue that it wasn't in your contract, it was exactly the type of sick and twisted clause Vought would stick in there.

"S/N?" Your legal rep asked, seemingly completely unbothered by what was going on. You didn't question if it was safe, nothing that Vought did was ever safe.

You surveyed the room, there was about eight people there, none of them particularly intimidating but that's not what you were worried about. They would have known you were going to show resistance and you now realised that the abundance of office workers was to merely lull you into a false sense of security. This meant one of three things. 1) There was a supe nearby ready to make you comply 2) One if not all of them had tranquillisers on them 3) all of the above.

Knowing Vought it was probably number three.

You could try and do a runner but you would get caught, you could try and fight them but that meant risking the baby. Whatever supe was going to show up would hardly care about your condition and who the fuck knew what Vought put in those tranquillisers.

Your eyes looked around the room, pretending to think about if you had any scheduled plans after this meeting. Your eyes settled on a wonky painting that had been hastily put back up- in fact, you had put that back up after it fell during your 'de-stressing session' with Ben.

Ben.

"Yes, I think that should be just fine." You smiled sweetly at them, "You wouldn't mind me calling my fiancé Be- Soldier Boy to let him know, would you? He likes to be included in anything related to the baby. Plus he would love to know that our little creation is helping advance the research at Vought. Anything for his country- you know him!"

You laughed and waved your hand, praying that they were convinced by your little show. They didn't know him, but it flew that Soldier Boy, the living and breathing embodiment of the good ol' red white and blue, would be behind such a thing. It was for his country after all.

"Great, that's just great. I'll call him now." You took the general shrugging from them as a go-ahead and quickly called Ben, mouthing 'busy man' to them with a big smile as it continued to ring, you were half afraid that he wasn't going to pick up until you heard his gruff voice on the end of the line.

"What baby? Can't even go to a meeting without-"

"-Ben, honey!" You smiled tensely as you cut him off his surely sordid sentence, and prayed that he could pick up on your forced cheeriness, from experience he should. Considering you only spoke in that tone to him when you were threatening to get rid of his baby or extreme violence. "I just wanted to let you know that Vought are going to collect some samples of our little star-spangled bugaboo. Amniotic fluid, blood, a bit of tissue matter, nothing our little super trooper can't handle, especially considering her old daddio! I was just hoping you would be able to join your darling doll at the doctor's, honeybuns."

You wanted to pull your own tongue out of your mouth, stuff it down your throat and throw it back up again.

"I will be right there."

And just like that the line dropped, you smiled, taking the phone away from your ear and holding it to your chest. You gave a thumbs up and chuckled nervously, "He's on his way!" You sat back down into your chair and exhaled, muttering the phrase to yourself again. "He's on his way.."

The time it took for Ben to get there was filled with awkward silence, interrupted only by the odd question from a curious suit about your pregnancy and the baby. Which was met with a vague and elusive answer. There was no way in hell you were going to give them any more information about it than what they already had.

Then finally, Ben appeared, bursting into the conference room decked out in his suit, hair dishevelled, panting ever so slightly, knuckles bruised. So you were right, there had been a supe nearby. He looked at you with a loving urgency and you stood up, one hand on your stomach as you nodded your head. You were okay, the both of you were, but more importantly, you were ready.

Ben landed the first hit and the HR manager's head rolled down the conference table like a bloody bowling ball. You struck next, your unhelpful rep ended up being useful for the first time in their life by acting as a human shield as you burst through their chest and clawed out the Head of Legal's throat. The others got out their tranqs - right again, but you unsheathed your forearm from your rep's chest and threw their body onto them, knocking them off their feet.

"Glad you got the message." You told him in relief as you crushed an approaching man's skull in your hand, blood decorating your face like gruesome confetti from a piñata. You quickly dropped him and continued walking towards your saviour.

"Well at first I thought you were trying something new-" Ben kicked another suit's chest in, smiling as he fell to the floor, there weren't many left now. "-but by daddio, I started to realise that something was wrong, darling doll and honeybuns was then just obvious"

"Oh so star-spangled-bugaboo and super trooper were fine, but you drew the line at daddio?" You laughed, hands on your hips as he finished the rest off. Happy that the threats had now been eliminated, Ben allowed himself to relax- slightly and turned to look at you.

You looked ravishing.

His little psycho.

Your hair was wild, no longer in the neat ponytail you had agonised over this morning. The blood that drenched your clothes hung to your curves perfectly, showed off your baby bump beautifully. The look light and love in your eyes? Intoxicating.

He quickly strove over and placed a firm hand on the back of your neck and pulled you closer to him. How could he have ever taken this- you- for granted. He would damn himself a hundred times and a hundred times more for it. You squeaked at the force behind his kiss but happily melted into it and for a brief moment you thought you were going to have reenact the last time the two of you had been there. If you ignored the background last time, you could ignore the blood, guts and gore that made it up now.

Unfortunately, Ben pulled away, pressing his forehead against your own. You whined and he smirked. "Sorry baby, but Butcher's waiting outside in the car, gotta get you and bugaboo out of here."

"That's not sticking!"

"It so is."

#jensen ackles #the boys tv #the boys #soldier boy x supe!reader #soldier boy x pregnant!reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #tw: dark content #the boys amazon

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weirdkpopgirl · 27 days

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Better | Jisung Imagine #4

Title: Better

Genre: Angst

Warnings: mentions of self-harm, mental struggles

Word Count: 867

Author's Note: I wrote this last week I think, and I apologize for posting something so dark again. I do have some lighter stuff I plan to write in the near future. Something I noticed in writing these type of stories is kind of me just talking to myself through the characters. I don't know, I guess it's kinda selfish and pathetic. But I wrote this from the perspective of someone witnessing their loved one going through a hard time, and I could see Jisung in this specific scenario. Thank you for reading and if it can comfort any of you, then I hope it does ^ ^

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With a sigh, Jisung drowsily let his phone drop to the coffee table, retiring from the mobile game he had been playing. He then rose from the couch and made his way to the kitchen, seeking your presence. Mere seconds later he caught the sight of you gracefully packing away the leftovers from dinner into clear airtight containers.

Usually, watching you perform these tasks with such ease brought comfort to him. Oftentimes Jisung felt you were more like his mom than his girlfriend. Despite him being older by two years, you consistently made an effort to take care of him. Whether it be through doing his laundry on the weekends, buying him bunggeobang when he wasn’t satisfied with his stage performance, or when you made him home-cooked meals so that he didn’t eat take-out all the time. Your actions were always so nurturing, and your eyes always brimmed with joy as he ate.

However, observing you tonight didn’t bring him the usual sense of domestic tranquility that usually filled the atmosphere. Instead, there was this deep, sadness that gnawed at his stomach and traveled up his throat.

It was the way you momentarily paused what you were doing. Then the slight hesitation that crossed your expression before your hand gripped the edge of your sleeve to vigorously drag the fabric up and down your forearm. Jisung despised how familiar that habit had become to him, one he had witnessed too many times before now. Your actions could only be a sign of the physical manifestation of the pain you carried as a result of the endless thunderstorm in your mind.

Jisung wanted to say something, he always did in these moments. But each time his tongue stilled, because he was weighed down by his own emotions. He knew what it was like to struggle mentally, yet he couldn’t think of the best way to express his concern without sounding like he was judging you.

However, Jisung knew he couldn’t stand around doing nothing. He stayed still for a moment though, watching you return to collecting the containers and turning around to store them in his refrigerator. Once the fridge door was closed again, your brows furrowed in frustration one more as you rubbed your arm again. You seemed more annoyed with the irritation beneath your skin than the fact that you had intentionally hurt yourself. This realization only made Jisung’s heart sink further.

After taking a deep breath, Jisung decided now was the time to act. His footsteps were barely audible against the tiled floor. Walking up from behind you, he wrapped his arms around your waist in a gentle back-hug. Your body initially tensed at the unexpected affection. But once you recognized it was just your boyfriend, you instinctively leaned back against him.

A few seconds passed before Jisung cautiously extended his arm out to tug at your sleeve. When you didn’t say anything, he slowly rolled it up, the kitchen light immediately drawing attention to the angry red lines scattered across your pale skin. Just a glimpse made his heart break into a million pieces.

Jisung felt your head lower, diverting your gaze to the dark countertop. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, biting your lip. “That you have to see this horrible, ugly side of me.”

Following your quiet apology, Jisung gently turned you around to face him. His heart broke at the emptiness in your expression, almost as if you were used to this sort of reaction. Even though you were standing in his arms, there was this distance you were trying to maintain with him. More than anything, Jisung wanted to reach out, pull you close and never let go. Never let you go, ever.

“I just want you to get better, (Y/n),” his voice wavered, unable to suppress his emotions any longer. However, Jisung knew it was almost futile to say these words to you. Deep down the both of you knew that you didn’t share the same desire for yourself as he did.

Yet, tears started to form when you managed to meet his gaze. Most likely because you could see the heartbreak in his eyes, he thought. Then, unexpectedly, you were the one embracing him, burying your face in his chest.

“I’m sorry Jisung,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his sweatshirt. “I’m so sorry.”

Those words left your mouth repeatedly between your sobs. It didn’t take long for Jisung to feel his own tears stream down his cheeks, mingling with yours. The two of you stood there, holding each other tighter than you ever had before. Although he knew you weren’t on the same page as him, the silent understanding that you loved each other was the connection.

And as you cried together in the middle of the kitchen at 10:37 p.m., all Jisung could hope for was that showing his support for you more often would do something. He knew that he couldn’t take your pain away entirely, but in these moments all you needed was someone to hold you. He needed to remind you that you weren’t alone.

Maybe, and just maybe, his love would be enough to encourage you to get better.

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previous masterlist -> current masterlist

#nct dream #nctzen #kpop #czennie #nct dream imagines #nct #nct dream scenarios #park jisung #jisung imagines #jisung angst #nct jisung #nct dream angst #jisung scenarios #jisung x reader

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