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kaceythecrunch · 2 months

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RANT. (sturntok.)

Yall. Im so mad. Sturntok pisses me the fuck off to the point it isn't even funny anymore. This might be messy, so bare with me.

Tara. Why the fuck is everyone pressed about Tara hanging out with the triplet, specifically matt and Chris. Yall are acting as if it was only two of them, like they're on a date. They were with fucking I don't know, 8 other people? Like why does Sturntok care who they hangout with? Did you not learn from elementary school to mind your bees wax, or business? You're probably 15. They're literally 5 years older than you. There is no way, in any universe they're gonna date you girl. ALSO TO SHIT ON TARA?? LIKE GIRL. FIND SOMEONE ELSE TO SHIT ON CUZ HOMEGIRL DONT CARE. SHE DONT CARE. SHE IS STRIVING AND LIVING LIFE LIKE YOU SHOULD GIRL. Live life and don't care. You'll probably have a positive outcome. No cuz y'all know how Chris owns the Saturn necklace thing? Its vivienne underwood. It's less than 20 bucks on Amazon. Also when was the last time y'all saw Chris wearing that necklace girl. Also there's a post from like months, or I think a year ago of Tara wearing the same necklace. These fucking tiktok girls are so annoying. Like we get it, everyone wants to be Tara. (she's my gf.)

Podcast. I saw a bunch of btiches shit on the podcast. Like cmon. THEY ARE PRODUCING AN HOUR LONG VIDEO FOR YALL EVERY WEEK. Mfs are burnt out, you're lucky that they even produce content for you ungreatful hoes. Like lwk, I'd rather have them remove Wednesday videos. I remember when they first started their podcast that they were really excited to start and stuff. I also remember, I believe it was their earlier vlogs. When they were still living in Boston and they haven't like went to LA yet, they were talking about turning their basement into a podcast room. Like cmon. This is something they've been wanting to do and you hoes just don't appreciate anything. Like have y'all's mama's not been pissed at y'all for not appreciating her food. Live life positive and not negative tf. But ofc, I respect their decision.

Intro. Yall just love to shit on everyone. Ruining the party. Sturntok reminds me of the kids-the class "clowns" who would be so shitty to the teacher for no reason and would ruin fun things for everyone. Like guys, I think we should all as a community bully Sturntok. It requires a bit more bullying, just to knock some sense into their heads. Anyways, back to what I was ranting about. I loved their new intro. its a new era. A new them. Change. Is. Fucking. hard. I understand that you love the teens from Boston running around making fools of themselves. Me too, I shall admit it. But in order to get sponsorships, to get the little paring things. (For example, them sponsoring Celsius, even becoming the youtooz thing.) Like they gotta act more professional.

Change. This tied in with the last few things. CHANGE IS HARD. CHANGE IS A DIFFICULT THING. But how the fuck are you gonna live life, and enjoy life when your stuck on one thing forever. Change is needed for growth, and for learning. Like guys, THEYRE 20. I think that's something y'all forget. They aren't teenagers anymore. Its kinda like how when everyone went into middle school and started to not like kiddy things when you still liked kiddy things. When I was in middle school I still like to play with Legos, draw, watch anime. Until I hit 7th grade, aka everyone's downfall. I still enjoy some of those things today but I changed because people in middle school stopped like those things and its embarrassing (well for me at least) to show up in school with anime shirts cuz I'm getting older. Thats what they're feeling I guess. Again, theyre 20 now.

Crazy ass mfs. Crazy, as in them soft mf's on sturntok. Also what pisses me off more is that they're coming here on tumblr. Like no, I know your soft ass belongs on Wattpad bffr. I have a long rant about this one, so bare with me again. They are so so so so so SOOOOO sensitive about the "spicy edits." Sometimes the fucking video frame isn't even about something "spicy" aka- them being shirtless, video frame near their crotch. It was when there was a song about sex. How soft can you be. Most songs these days are about sex. Some songs y'all probably didn't know about was about sex. (cake by the ocean for example.) LIKE LETS ME FOR REAL. MOST SONGS ARE ABOUT SEX. Also with the tiktok audios being removed like cmon. Not everything is about sunshine and rainbows. I remember I commented on a Chris edit and I was like.

"I need this man in my life. He's so hot."

"you're fucking gross. He's a human being and do you know how grossed out he would be if he saw that you said this? (bullshitbullshit,morebullshitandstupidness.)"

Yeah, keeping fucking running your mouth. THIS TIKTOK HAS LIKE 4K VIEWS. DO YOU WANNA KNOW HOW MUCH FUCKING FOLLOWERS THE TRIPLETS HAVE? YEAH. THAT'S NOT EVEN A QUARTER OF WHAT THEY HAVE. THIS VIDEO HAS 1K COMMENTS. ARE THEY FUCKING HUNTING ME DOWN?? MY COMMENT HAS 3 LIKES. WHY WOULD THEY CARE TO FUCKING CHECK GIRL. ITS ALSO TELLING THE FUCKING PERSON WHO EDITED THIS THAT THIS EDIT WAS FIRE AND THAT THEY MADE THE EDIT HELLA GOOD. UR FUCKING LUCKY I KEPT MY ANGER TO MYSELF CUZ OH GIRL. I WOULD SUCKER PUNCH YOU. You know whats also funny? They're the same people who will be pissed with when they see matt or Chris with a female. Like girl. You're calling me fucking gross? Do you think how much more worse that is than my comment? You ruin friendships. OG sturniolo fans know that they've been friends with girls. If you genuinely care, yall would know that nick made most of matt and chris' friends. Meaning most of them were females. SO OBVIOUSLY THEYRE GONNA HAVE GIRL FRIENDS. I remember watching the Zach sang pod when nick was on and he explained that matt usually doesn't make the friends. Theres a joke where matt says "I'm gonna make a friend that wasn't originally nick's friends." smth like that. Anyways, off topic. Just because they are seen with a girl, doesn't mean they are fucking dating them. Like shut the fuck up. please. Respectfully shut the fuck because I'm a nice person. Also Chris gives off major virgin vibes lets bffr.

Madi. Yall hate so bad on Madi and its fucking grossing me out. Why do you have to ship her with matt and chris??? Literally to the point they can't even put her in photo dumps or videos. You just gotta ruin it for everyone, huh? shes fucking gorgeous, and she's so funny in videos. Plus, when she does talk shes hillarious. She literally reminds me of Matt. She doesn't fucking talk much because she is more of a listener.. Like guys bffr. How can you hate her when she barley spoke in videos. Like respectfully, shut the fuck up. Yall just jealous shes pretty.

Calling Nick fine. I also hate them mfs who are always running their mouth about girls calling Nick fine. Lets bffr. Y'all didn't think a gay guy is fine? I'm sure you've had a crush on one gay person before. And if you haven't trust me. You will. I had a crush on my gay friend in 8th grade. I feel like its a canon even in every girl's life. anyways, I hate when girls will be scared to call nick hot.

"Nick is so fine. But like as a cool guy friend way. Please don't attack me."

POOR GIRL BELIEVES SHE IS GONNA BE ATTACKED IF SHE CALLS A GAY MAN FINE. Sturntok leave her the fuck alone. He's hot as fucking and I will kill civilians if I'm not given more nick edits. He's so fine. Literally the hottest triplet.

If u made it here thanks. There was shit on my chest that I really needed to let out. What have we learned today?

Sturntok can suck my fucking dick.

Thanks goodbye.

Me to Sturntok :

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cowboyfromh3ll · 7 months

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Red Dead Redemption 2 College AU !

I'm ignoring reqs for a bit to indulge in my own thoughts and ideas and write some hcs for my college au on what i think their majors/lives as students/professors would be like, ahem... Long post ahead. Also this isn't too well thought out as of now, just wrote down some fun thoughts. Plz tell me your own headcannons

Arthur Morgan - Fine Arts

THE MOST UNEXPECTED MAJOR FOR A GUY LIKE HIM. He's the guy who's seen around campus wearing leather jackets, riding his motorcycle, brooding over a cup of coffee while he stares off aimlessly into the sky. So imagine him walking into your visual arts class with some of the most beautiful drawings you've ever seen. Has his own apartment near campus and his roommate is Charles. Entire place is littered with sketches and art supplies and billions of projects. His hands are constantly stained with charcoal. Takes his major VERY seriously, he don't play about his drawings and paintings. Works at a college bar and constantly comes home with a new story. Frequently visits John and the others after joining the frat, especially when they have parties. Never misses out on those. Became friends with Lenny through these parties.

John Marston - Civil Engineering

Probably one of the most miserable engineering majors you'll ever see. And that's only because he doesn't stress out over his work and procrastinates like he hasn't a care in the world; seemingly forgets he's in college. That is until the deadline is 11:59 PM that night and he has to cram two weeks worth of assignments into one night. Complains about heart palpitations when the area surrounding his desk is littered with energy cans. Joined a fraternity as soon as possible and lives in the housing. Party animal, drinks on weekdays with Sean and Javier. Throws absolute ragers on the weekends. Is the guy to yell "IF YOU'RE NOT PART OF THIS FRAT, THEN GET THE FUCK OUT" before turning to you and asking if you had fun. Has missed his 9 AM several times because he either slept in or is hung over. Was probably community dick for a while. Works at McDonald's part time, people genuinely don't know how he handles the stress. 60% of his paycheck goes to liquor/alcohol.

Javier Escuella - Music Theory

PASSIONATE about his major. HE DON'T PLAY ABOUT HIS MUSIC. But I can totally see him as the type of dude to sit around on the campus lawn with a guitar as a group of girls surrounds him and listens to him play. Is in the frat with John and lives in it as well. Also plays his guitar at parties with girls surrounding him, starkly contrasting the EDM and house music in the background. Shows up to class regardless of hangovers, he is very serious about his education. As serious as he is about partying. Shows up to class fitted every single time. Probably has outfit changes between classes. Type of guy to have his fits laid out next to his bed. He does the most. Was also probably community dick. Works as a cook at a restaurant, constantly flirts with you there. Gets all giddy in the kitchen with his coworkers when he manages to make you giggle.

Charles Smith - Anthropology

It's him and his laptop against the world. He's super neat, everything in one place. Any papers he gets are all neatly kept away and categorized per class. Is hard at work on writing an ethnography and is frequently out and about for observations. If he's not out then he's at home working on assignments. Also a frat member but like I said, rooms with Arthur. Has gained the quiet serious type reputation in class but once you start talking to him discover he's very friendly and nice. Probably works on campus as a student ambassador. Is very involved with school and activities; runs an enviornmental sciences club. Dedicates several hours a night to studying/working on assignments. Amazing student all around. The way he has his life together is enviable.

Kieran Duffy - Equine Studies

LITERALLY PERFECT MAJOR FOR HIM. Literally the happiest student around, his classroom is the stables. Works at the stables as well. Just spends 99% of his time at the stables so catching him outside of there is nearly impossible. Gossips to the horses and tells them about his day. I feel like he'd fall behind in his other studies though because he'd be way too focused on the horses. Typical, struggling student. Joined a frat out of pressure, got the WORST of the hazing. I don't even want to begin to imagine what the rituals were like. Probably gets black out drunk at frat parties, ends up on the front lawn and wakes up half naked every weekend somehow.

Sean Macguire - Business Administration

He's just insufferable like that. Whenever people shit on his major he just finds a thousand bullshit reasons as to why his major is better and more lucrative. Complains to John how hard his homework is and when John asks to see his screen it's addition with pictures. Probably went to college to party and realized "oh shit I actually gotta do school". Googled the highest paying and easiest majors and chose it like that. Puts more thought into what beer he's going to buy at the liquor store than his studies. Hotboxes his car 24/7. His room REEKS of weed and so does he. Attempts to disguise it with ax body spray. Will always ask you if you want to wake and bake; regardless of if you do or don't accept he's showing up to class high and with sunglasses. Goes nonverbal when he greens out. Works at McDonald's with John, is constantly late and is warned he might get fired but never does. Just fucks around in the back. I can imagine he and Karen are constantly on and off but when they're off he brings a new girl home to the frat every night.

Lenny Summers - Literature Major

Joined the frat because he thought he'd make good connections (LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER). One of the youngest pledges, went easier on him with the hazing. He's incredibly focused on his studies. You'd be surprised to find out he's a party animal as well because he's constantly reading a book in his free time. Definitely joined a book club with Mary-Beth and is taking Dutch's English class. Works on campus as well as the library; prides himself on his work and education. I believe he'd dorm because there's no way he's living in that filthy frat. Super organized dorm. Became really good friends with Arthur during one of the parties, also became close with Sean. Frequently gets driven around by Sean and gets second hand high from being in his car.

Bill Williamson - Army

Out of everyone he went to the army instead of college. But he definitely still hangs with the frat when he can simply because he's friends with a few of them. Frequently buys them liquor and supplies it to the younger members. Asks them how their classes are going and ends up falling into a rabbit hole where he's learning about infrastructure planning or astrophysics and tries his hand at doing their homework for them. It goes terribly. Drives a beat up pickup truck and you can hear that mf coming down the road 3 blocks away. Subtly tries (and fails) at flirting with some of the frat members.

Micah Bell - Criminal Law Major

Insufferable. Need I say more. Very money centric. Definitely thinks he's better than you because he's a law student. Kisses the professors’ ass all the time. Joins study groups and acts as if he's the smartest one there, tries to lead conversations, and views it as a challenge if anyone says differently than him during said discussions. He probably has an internship at a firm. Oh my god I can just imagine how sleazy he is. Also part of the frat and several of the members do not like him. Harasses the girls that show up. I can see him cutting off people during class or talking over them. Type of guy to say "not to be devil's advocate, but..."

Pearson - Culinary Degree

Came back to school to get his culinary degree. Mostly keeps to himself but has become acquainted with a few people and is actually decent friends with some. Pretty serious about his studies but is also chill, you can just tell he's extremely passionate about what he does. Excuses himself from hangouts by saying "sorry I got a pie due at 3." Loves it when he's able to sell some of his products back to students/general public and see how people react. Dreams of opening his own restaurant so he takes the accounting/marketing aspects of his degree very seriously.

Abigail Roberts - Education Major

I CAN JUST SEE IT YK. I can totally see her being a teacher, and she's super hardworking. I feel like her schedule is jam packed so she hardly ever has time for fun. Studies, does homework, student teaching, and takes care of herself and her son. So yeah imagine how busy she is all the time. Occasionally leaves Jack with his grandparents for a night of fun but that is few and far in between. Joined a sorority for support but wouldn't live in the house. Lives in the same complex as Arthur and they get along, sometimes he offers to babysit Jack. Drops off food for her when she's real busy with her studies. NEVER late to class. And besides handling ALL THIS, she'd work as a waitress at a restaurant by campus. Talk about hard working.

Sadie Adler - Agricultural Sciences

Definitely moved to live on campus from a rural town to pursue her degree. Joined the sorority early on but dorms. Suffered a breakup and found solace in the community the girls provided. Works at a local supermarket and volunteers at a community garden nearby. Her dorm is full of potted plants. Became really good friends with Arthur through Abigail, who has her over at times. I feel like she'd be asked on dates frequently but she always turns em down because she's still struggling to accept her breakup. I'm not making it a death because this AU isn't that BRUTAL. Argues with the boys often. Pearson frequents the supermarket she works at and she always makes a comment on the strange ingredients he buys. Thus leading to a weird tense air between them that they never directly address. Enjoys her coursework and never falls behind. She's on top of that shit. Also very outspoken in class.

Karen Jones - Biological Sciences

PREMED BABYYYY. On the path to becoming a nurse. She procrastinates a lot, is often late to class, BEGS her professors for extensions. Truth is she's a party girl and she will NEVER give up that party life. Constantly at several different frat parties, gets black out drunk on Saturdays, and on Sundays she's studying for her bio exam on Monday. Complains to her sorority sisters about boys, particularly Sean, to the point where they all HATE any man she gets involved with. And the next time they see Sean in public they're all glaring DAGGERS at him. Parties aside she does her work even if she puts it off... Her grades are decent, definitely passing, but everyone tells her she's gonna need to do better if she wants to go to med school. I can see her working at a retail store like Walgreens. Most miserable cashier you'll ever see. Probably lets you walk out with your items for free if she's particularly pissed off at work that day.

Tilly Jackson - Physics Major

SHE IS A SMART GIRL. One of the most hardworking on this list. Her grades are top notch and she don't play about studying. I can see her offering tutoring for math and even getting paid for it. She is not one to be underestimated when it comes to her academic abilities. Occasionally parties (aka gets dragged along by Karen) and enjoys herself, but I can't see her being a major party animal. Offers Karen lots of advice as well as helping the girls with math assignments when they need it. Joins study groups as well as math clubs. Works at a cafe on campus where Mary-Beth and Lenny visit her occasionally. Generally well organized. Has her shit together.

Mary-Beth Gaskill - Literature Major

ALWAYS has her nose in a book. Becomes extremely engaged in class discussions and has probably read every single book required for the semester already. Works at a bookstore and frequents the campus library. Is on the chiller side of partying but still accompanies the girls. She's very reserved but can be quite friendly. Writes fanfiction in the back of class while her professors think she's just passionately writing a report. Always gets extensions from Dutch, always. Even when she doesn't need em. I can see her reading a lot of philosophy books. Also an Otessa Moshfegh fan. Colleen Hoover is her guilty pleasure. Runs a blog about the books she reads. I can also imagine her being part of the school paper. Real close with Lenny as well, often hangs out with him at the cafe Tilly works at.

Molly O'Shea - Cosmetology

Shows up to her 8 AM with a BEAT face. Full face of makeup, decked head to toe in designer: designer purse where she keeps her macbook, designer shoes, outfit, accessories, etc. Probably wears brands you've never even heard of. Has a crush on Dutch, only reason she has perfect attendance in his class. Has a grudge towards Mary-Beth. Dorms for sure, even though she'd be able to afford housing nearby. The only times she's at the dorm is in the morning getting ready for class or at night to sleep. Hardly talks to her roommate either, not even a hey. Gained the stuck up rich girl reputation from her peers. Seen at cafes in between classes and is always alone. Is out of town and has been struggling to make friends. Lots of guys ask her out on dates and she only accepts when she's bored and wants a free meal. WILL make y'all go to a steakhouse, WILL order the most expensive thing on the menu.

Dutch Van Der Linde - English/Philosophy Professor

This guy definitely speaks about philosophy with a PASSION. His class is very engaging, though I do believe he'd play favorites with a few female students... This goes for both classes. Constant open ended discussions. Type of professor to ask you "but what do the blue curtains mean...?" Hardass with assignments unless you're one of those favored female students. No late assignments with him ever. You either turn it in at the deadline or you don't ever. I feel like he'd forget to take attendance frequently despite being a hardass about that too. Probably the type of professor that tries to integrate himself with the student body and try to fit in. Mildly successful.

Hosea Matthews - Theatre Professor

THE SWEETEST, KINDEST, MOST COMPASSIONATE PROFESSOR. ALWAYS excuses late assignments and very lenient, will not deduce points. His class is very fun and engaging as well! Does what Dutch tries to do and makes genuine connections with his students while keeping it professional. Tells his students they can always talk to him and come for advice. Frequently has lunch with Dutch and Susan and talks up just how great his classes are. Frequents the library and local bookstores; also goes to the cafe Tilly works at. I also feel like a lot of his relationships would have a fatherly air around them, like he's a second dad for a few of the students (we know who...).

Leopold Strauss - Business Professor

YOU CANNOT TELL ME HE WOULDN'T UGH. Probably a super boring class I'm not gonna lie. His accent would probably make it hard for some students to understand what he's saying, not to mention he probably speaks super softly and not loud enough for everyone to hear. He should've retired by now but he refuses to. There is no syllabus week with him, you got homework on the first day. But it's probably not even hard c'mon. Sean is probably the most lively thing about his class, but he's definitely falling asleep in there frequently. Always late to his own class, doesn't even say why, just gets into lecturing. NEVER seen without a cup of coffee. Sometimes there will be long moments of silence between lectures as he tries to figure out the technology. Falls asleep in his car after class.

Orville Swanson - Theology Professor

Also a super chill professor. He's probably super open to his classes about his struggles. He's able to facilitate well structured discussions and keep things civilized amongst his students. I feel like it could get boring because it's mostly lectures and slide shows but he'd still find a way to keep his students engaged, especially on discussions. I feel like he'd also be lenient about assignments, but his assignments would be rather large. Back to back papers. Type of professor to say hi to you in the halls or outside of campus and ask about your day. 10/10 guy.

Uncle - Biology Professor

How is he still working here. HOW hasn't he retired. WHY hasn't he retired. SOMEONE PLEASE make him retire. There are pros and cons. You will learn NOTHING in his class, so if you're unfortunate enough to land his class you better drop that shit as soon as possible. If you for some reason stay, you must be some sort of masochist. Probably has the best stories. As soon as you think he's about to start lecturing he goes on a tangent about a story that happened to him the other day. He has weekly tests and you might as well teach yourself the material because his ass definitely isn't doing it. Also has plenty of labs so he can leave you all to your own devices amongst each other while he sits at his desk and does who knows what. You can probably find him sleeping in a student lounge at any time of the day. Also the frat guys have definitely run into him at the liquor store.

Susan Grimshaw - History Professor/Sorority Mother

She's hard on you but only because she cares. Isn't very lenient when it comes to assignments but she's involved with her students. If she sees you struggling she'll pull you aside and ask what's up and figure out a plan to help you out in her class. Likes to remind her students she isn't their mommy but has a very motherly air surrounding her. And she is VERY on top of her girls. As a sorority mother, she makes sure they eat well, stay on top of studies, and deals with parents. Encourages the girls to keep up the general cleanliness of the house and tells them to work as a unit. Extremely proud of each of them.

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peachypinkygloss · 10 months

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can i request exes2lover with jin? where they both kind of hate each other but they both have to co-parenting their child (puppy).

congrats on the milestone💕💕💕

hey baby, yess, and thank you so much! 🤍

co-parenting

You still pretend you hate him, but he knows it's just an act.

pairing: ex bf!seokjin x fem!reader

genre: exes to lovers

warnings: none other than reader's really bitter 😭, 500 words.

a.n.: i LOVE dachshunds, they're so cute and smoll 🥺

This is part of my 2k milestone celebration! Here is the post for the drabble game! 🤍

♡・2k celebration masterlist・♡

Sunday is the day when your ex comes to pick up Lua for the week. You could call it co-parenting, having to take care of your child every two weeks. Well, your dachshund, not an actual baby human.

It's already complicated to co-parent a dog, so imagine a human. That would be like hell because you have enough of seeing your ex once a week.

You'd have to see him way more often if the child in question went to school and had parent meetings where both you and Seokjin would have to be present. You can't even agree on what type of food Lua should eat or how many treats she has the right to have in a day, so no, co-parenting an actual child with this man wouldn't be great at all.

"Okay, so here's the leash," you hand Seokjin the pink object. "You know she refuses to go outside without the pink leash, so forget about yours," you say bitterly.

Since you bought the pink leash with a matching collar for Lua, she simply doesn't go out with another one. You don't know if she can actually recognize colours, but you definitely can't trick her.

You've tried before with Seokjin when you were still together and nothing worked. Literally. You don't know what's up with this leash, but Lua is obsessed with it.

You won't lie, this boosts your ego, knowing you've chosen it for her. You're kind of into a competition with your ex, trying to prove you're the parent she prefers. You both know there's nobody she likes more because Lua can't be separated from you two. It's like she counts the days until she gets to be with her mom or her dad.

"I assure you I succeeded with the extendable one. She didn't even notice," Seokjin says, taking the leash from you and crouching down to Lua, attaching it to her collar.

You roll your eyes, resting your hands on your hips. It's not like you don't believe him, you do, but it would mean you've lost this battle and you hate losing against him.

"Lua is always distracted by the other dogs when she goes to the dog park," you rationalize, trying to prove she still likes the pink leash. "She will notice if you go for a walk."

Seokjin stands back up and passes a hand through his hair, making you hate him even more. He knows he's hot, he knows you find him hot and he uses it against you. This is so unfair of him.

"I don't think she minds that much anymore," he states, glancing down at Lua who looks between the two of you, not knowing who to focus on. "Honestly, the only one who really cares is you." Seokjin glances back at you, a shit-eating grin forming on his face.

You look offended for a second, scoffing as you roll your eyes once again. How could he say that? You know your dog and she is a stubborn little dachshund.

How are you the one who's really stubborn...?

As you don't respond, lost in your thoughts, Seokjin changes subject. "Anyway, don't worry, mama, we'll have a lot of fun," he smiles at the dog like he's addressing her. "And a lot of treats, right, Lua?" He laughs, getting out of your apartment with Lua's bag in hand.

"What? No, Jin-" He's already out when you snap out of your thoughts, making you groan out in frustration.

But you can't help the little smile drawing on your face.

#🍑 [drabble game]#requests #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts drabble #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin x reader #seokjin drabble

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thegloweringcastle · 5 months

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A Million Lifetimes

Happy holidays to @sideralwriting!! My dear, I appreciate your patience with me as I navigated life (& the gift swap) this holiday season. It has been SUCH a delight getting to know you these past few weeks and I look forward to hopefully staying in touch after the swap! I'm sorry this isn't my best work, but I hope you like it nonetheless. I tried my best to add small little details you might appreciate, and I know it's not great but I hope it may bring you some joy. <3

And the absolute biggest hug and thank you to @acotargiftexchange for being so patient with me - I'm sorry I had to be *That Person* this year. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart<3<3<3<3<3

No warnings to be found! Just silly feysand fluff and shenanigans.

_~_~_~_~_~_~_

Many people use the holidays as a time to reflect on all which has changed. Some measure how much they’ve grown as individuals, others use it as a way to mark the end of a long, grueling year - seeing the short break as a way to signify a year’s worth of change and prompt improvement for the months between the next holiday.

Feyre and Rhys, on a similar note, liked to use it as a way to track how many times they have found each other, over and over again.

***

This time the wind blew gently; not hard enough to urge people inside, but not so gentle that it went unnoticed. In the crowded holiday market of Velaris, two people huddled closer together, sharing heat and smiles.

“I’m just saying,” Feyre’s words formed between them as frosty clouds. “I still think that the winter we spent in Greenland was better than the one in London.”

“But Feyre darling,” Rhysand’s words were not as clear as Feyre’s, thanks to the scarf he kept tight around his face. “London!”

“Yes, London, but it was early nineteenth century London and we had just run into each other - quite literally - from slipping and sliding through sewage.”

“Oh, darling, you forget how I so smoothly saved us from certain doom.” He tugged the scarf away from his face, rewinding it around both of them.

“You didn’t save my shoes, that’s for certain.” She huffed. “All I’m saying is I believe you’re looking at it through rose-colored lenses.”

He chuckled. “I’m not going to win, am I?”

“No, my love. You’re not.” She offered him a pat on the cheek - a consolation.

They wandered between stalls of vendors, watching the holiday lights and decorations in quiet awe. Feyre itched to blend the colors together on canvas, perhaps make a mashup of every holiday she’d ever spent with Rhys. There would be golds and reds from the market they currently walked through, but there would also be greys and browns and greens. Light and shade, with a fair share of tears to balance out the smiles. It would be… chaotic. And perfect. A strange, haphazard image that perfectly depicted their lives.

She tugged on his hand, drawing them to a stop in front of a Bavarian craftsman.

“What about that christmas in Germany?”

“That was a pretty good year. Bloody cold though.” He shivered, as if just the thought of it sent chills down his spine. “I think it’s still one of my favorites of our firsts. It was refreshing to see you so at ease. Remember how simple it was that year?”

Yes, Feyre remembered that life well. It was among her favorites, she supposed; one of their cozier lives.

***

Feyre could feel the cold seeping through the window of the train even on the farthest side of her bench. Her lace gloves didn’t do much other than look pretty, and not for the first time she grew irked at women’s fashions for being so terribly impractical. Sure, petticoats galore were plenty warm in such low temperatures, but not very easy to maneuver; and narrow-heeled boots weren’t especially stable in slush and ice.

Nonetheless, she was enjoying her travels. Watching the world blur past the window was meditative - reassuring. There may not have been much left for her to escape, but being on the move was the only way to ensure peace and quiet - and the only way for her to feel less adrift in her search for… whatever it was she thought was missing.

The train drew to a halt, wheels screeching against the tracks as it stopped for a station in Munich. The hustle and bustle of people unboarding began immediately, luggage being jostled down the aisle and people rushing past. It was a wonder Feyre even noticed the booklet which tumbled to the floor - she wouldn’t have, if it hadn’t fallen from the pocket of a man with violet eyes.

She leaned over, snatching it during a break in the crowd while trying to keep track of her stranger. Right before he stepped off, his gaze found hers.

Her heart tugged, and before she knew it, Feyre was out of her seat - belongings snagged at the last minute - and braving the crowd to follow the man with violet eyes. The notebook couldn’t have been more than thirty pages or so, yet it sat heavy in her hand as she navigated the crowded station, ducking between people and dodging around suitcases. Feyre realized that she had lost sight of her stranger, but there was a sense of urgency she couldn’t shake. It wasn’t until she was panting for air and had almost certainly gone in circles that she slumped onto a bench, setting her things down with a clatter and letting the book fall open on her lap.

She knew it was rude to look, but it was unlikely that she would find the owner to return it. One peek couldn’t hurt; if it was a grocery list - well, nothing terribly personal there. If it was notes, or perhaps a novel in the making… She was an artist too. It would be fine.

Still, she wasn’t quite prepared for what she found on that random, worn page.

In that icy chill

Of those depthless blue eyes

I see only warmth

I wonder

How might it feel

To succumb to you

Adrift in your blue

“There you are,” A voice deep as night stood out over the din of the train station. “From the train. I’ve been looking for you.”

Feyre snapped the book shut with a resounding thwack and stood abruptly, only to be pinned in place by a pair of violet eyes.

“I’ve been looking for you too. For a while, I think.” She held out the journal. “This is yours?��

“Indeed. Thank you for finding it for me.” Their hands overlapped, making it impossible for Feyre to let go.

“This may sound odd, but for quite some time I’ve been looking for something I think I lost. You seem to be good at finding things,” She could listen to his voice forever. “Perhaps you could help me once more?”

Even as he asked, the pieces began to fall into place. Sounds of past lives ringing through to the present, urging her to hang onto him. Memories returned to both of them, and his grip moved from the journal to her hand.

“Of course.” She smiled, watching carefully for a crinkle around his eyes. “I would love to.”

***

“I have to admit, all those skirts were warm, but they sure were a pain to deal with when nature called.”

Rhys’ laugh boomed between the aisles of vendors. “And it made it much more challenging to undress y-”

“That’s enough!” She clapped a hand over his mouth before he could say anything too filthy. “We are in public, Rhys!”

He smirked. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Yeah, sure you weren’t.”

“I think it’s you who let her dirty mind get carried away.” His grin was impish.

“If I have a dirty mind it’s only because you’ve rubbed off on me.”

He put his hands up, surrendering. “Whatever you say, love.”

They wandered some more between vendors, debating over their favorite holidays together and which first-meeting was their best.

“I thought it was funny when your friend introduced us,” It was a memory that Feyre often thought of, no matter how plain it might have been. “Not sure if it was the best, but it was… normal.” Out of everything, that had to count for something, right?

Rhys laughed loudly, grabbing her hand even tighter. “And he kept meddling in our business no matter how clear we made it that we were together.”

“It was flattering to know he thought we went well together, at least.” She wagged a finger at him, laughing slightly. “At least it was better than the one where you saved me from being burned at the stake. That was pretty horrid, wasn't it?”

He pulled her close, teasing and hinting at a kiss. “At least I got to play hero for you.”

“Oh,” She dragged it out. “That’s right, because we were early in the game and I was, at the time, still half convinced you were a complete prick. Yes, you did need those extra points.”

He hummed, half in amusement and half in agreement. “What about that one we spent at that inn? That was one hell of a time.”

“The place with the armadillos?” She shivered. “Unfortunately, I do remember that.”

***

Feyre did not like the high desert for two reasons. Reason one: The air was too dry, it hurt her skin and chapped the inside of her nose. Reason two: there were too many creepy crawling critters that wanted either to kill her, to eat her, or to steal her body heat.

It didn’t matter if it was winter and most animals had either migrated or gone into hibernation underground. She did not. Like. The. desert.

“Almost there, darlin’.” Rhys encouraged, ignoring the fact that she had just chewed him out in an hour-long tangent for “dragging her into the middle of nowhere for a single, stupid job in the blasted desert during a snowstorm”.

“I thought the desert didn’t get snow.” Feyre was pouting. She knew she was pouting. Unfortunately, she was too uncomfortable to care.

“This is the high desert, love. It’s a bit more dramatic than what we’re used to.”

“Rhys,” She pulled their horses to a stop and faced him. It was getting harder to see as the snowfall grew heavier. “Please tell me we’re close. I don’t want to cut this life short, I especially don’t want to cut this life short because of one stupid decision.”

“I promise you, darlin’, we’re not far.” He turned to face forward, pulling out his compass. “There’s a small town just around this bend. We’ll stay there ‘till this weather clears up.”

Feyre didn’t waste her energy responding - she wanted a hot drink and soft bed now.

Sure enough, Rhys hadn’t been lying. There was a town - small and rundown though it was, Feyre was just grateful they wouldn’t freeze to death in the most miserable place on earth.

Rhys held the door for her, the two of them stepping into an inn and stomping the snow from their boots and shaking the ice from their scarves and coats.

“Howdy there and welcome, I’m Shirley and I sure am happy to see you. What can I do for you lovely folks tonight?”

Feyre looked up from where she was struggling to undo her buttons, ready to charm the lovely owner for a room, before letting out a startled gasp.

The woman - Shirley - held an armadillo to her chest as one might hold a cat or puppy. A snake rested coiled on the hearth, another few armadillos trundled between tables at the restaurant. Other patrons sat at the bar normally, seemingly unconcerned with the lizards crawling around the counters.

“W-we um-”

“Howdy ma'am.” He stuck his hand out, not once looking at the armadillo the lady held. “The name’s Rhysand, this here’s my lovely wife Feyre. We got caught in the snow and were hoping you might be able to spare a room for the two of us?”

“Of course! I hope you two don’t mind cacti too much. Any concerns? You know what, doesn’t matter. I’ll grab a key and show you two on up!”

“That’s perfect. Thank you, ma’am.”

Not even thirty minutes later they had gotten a room and were getting ready for bed. Or, Rhys was getting ready for bed.

“Rhysand, you know I love animals. I adore animals. I do not, however, adore snakes. Or any desert dwelling creatures. They're gross, and dusty, and out to get you. Remember that Christmas in Australia? Boiling hot and everything was trying to kill us.”

“But darling, that’s Australia.”

“That’s irrelevant!” She huffed. “My point is, I want to celebrate our first christmas in this life somewhere other than an Inn filled with wild animals.”

He grabbed her hands, stopping her pacing and making her meet his gaze. “We will. I promise.”

Sure enough, the storm had passed by the time they woke in the morning. They were up and at’em in a hurry, Rhys’ compass taking them to the next town over in time for a holiday spent indoors, together, and most importantly away from wild animals.

***

“I think I still have that compass, somehow. I remember finding it again in an antique shop in that area a few lives ago, then I tucked it away for safekeeping - and the future. Sort of like you do with our rings.”

At the mere mention, Feyre brought hers up to the light. It glimmered beneath the street lamps, scratched and nicked from centuries of wear. Some people may have been bothered if their wedding rings had been so damaged, but Feyre just saw it as lives well lived and loved.

She shrugged. “So that may not have been my favorite, but it wasn’t the worst. In hindsight, it was a more entertaining year, so I can’t hate it.”

Rhys’ shit-eating grin dimmed, shade by shade. “I know which one was my least favorite.”

It was Feyre’s too.

They both sobered and held one another a little bit closer.

***

In all of their lifetimes, through dozens of centuries, it was the longest they had been apart; the loneliest they had ever been, too.

War had a tendency to do that.

In this particular life Feyre had been teaching art classes at an elementary school, biding her time while waiting for something. Someone. There was a pain in her heart amplified by a holiday season spent alone. It felt like every day the rain would just fall and fall and fall, unbroken by sunshine or snow. Even ice would have been welcome - anything to cut through the long, unending shadows.

She sat in a late night diner, avoiding returning to an empty apartment while sipping burnt coffee over a half-finished portrait of a man with raven hair and violet eyes. Something familiar, someone unknown. Behind the counter a server switched the radio to a news channel broadcasting the latest updates from overseas.

Had she known that her next life would be so much fuller, she might not have been so hopeless. Had she known that, a lifetime from then, memories would come rushing back and the stranger in her painting would not be so strange, she might have been less disturbed by the sheer number of renditions she had made of the same man.

Alas, she did not know these things. She didn’t even know the cruel twist of the universe - the war? - taking from her the man she didn’t know she waited for. And so for many many more nights she sat in silence with a tepid, burnt coffee (she preferred hot chocolate) and endless half-finished portraits, always hoping for the rain to stop.

***

Children rushed past them, dodging around holiday shoppers and festival booths with shocking agility. Silence hung between them like a clock’s pendulum at its peak, ready to come falling down at any second.

He squeezed her hand. “It made our next-first-meeting even better, I would say.”

Sparkling lights of all different colors turned to smudges in the background as Feyre focused her gaze on Rhys; on his violet eyes. Some things about him had changed, especially after the war, but his eyes stayed the same. The way he smiled with his entire being remained the same. Reliable. Constant.

“I think I would have to agree.”

***

With time their memories would fade. They would begin again, growing into new lives and apart from each other, but they were inevitably always nudged back together. And each time, they remembered one another a bit more easily.

So when Rhys settled in after the war and his new neighbor felt like home, all he needed was a light push in the right direction.

That day in particular had been windy and icy. Roads were closed, businesses were shut down, students were off of school. The universe handed Rhys an excuse to seek out his neighbor on a silver platter: the power went out, and Rhys knew his apartment was the only one with a classic wood-burning fireplace.

She answered after only the first knock.

“I have hot chocolate at my apartment and a working fireplace - if you need. Hot water too.”

Her gaze was soft, and she didn’t hesitate before agreeing.

They kept that year simple, soft, easy. It’s what they needed - something comforting. She stayed even many hours after the power had gone back on and the world had returned to operating in full-swing. They fell into easy company as years long since passed came rushing back, and a new promise was made to never be separated for that long.

***

They still had yet to break their promises.

“I thought that was very domestic, even for you.” Feyre grinned, exchanging a few coins for a small cone of roasted chestnuts.. “But I wonder if maybe we’d earned it. So many different adventures and lifetimes… maybe it’s good that we finally have the time for things like hot chocolate and wood fires. And roasted chestnuts.”

His lips turned up, the creases around his eyes softened. “Maybe you’re right.”

When it inevitably grew too cold outside and even their shared scarf and intertwined hands weren’t enough to keep them warm, the couple navigated through the crowded streets towards their shared townhouse.

Cozy, small, but most importantly - theirs.

He took her jacket, she put away his hat. He put the kettle on, she got their mugs and measured out the tea. They moved fluidly together, silently; familiar over so many different lives spent together. It wasn’t until they had settled in together on the couch, warmed pumpkin beside steaming tea on the coffee table, that Feyre spoke again.

“I still don’t know which of our holidays is my favorite. Maybe I don’t have one.”

Rhys reached out to tuck a lock of her hair behind one ear, cupping her face with the movement. “My favorite one is the one with you.”

“That’s most of them - I don’t think that counts as any single one, as romantic as it is.” She placed a kiss on his cheek. “But you sure are a sweet talker.”

“Then it’s this one, right here, right now, with you. When we can finally have forever.”

***

In every one of their meetings and partings, Rhys and Feyre fell together into one single life. Whether it grew from eye contact across a supermarket, a quick handshake in a business meeting, or simply bumping shoulders on a crowded sidewalk, and no matter how it ended, there was another life waiting for them. Homes to be lived in and loved, holidays to be spent bundled up together in a bubble outside of time.

It was the general consensus between the two of them: The best lives were the ones spent together.

#secret santa 2023 #acotar gift exchange #feysand

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film-in-my-soul · 5 months

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Master Reclist · Personal Masterlist · Blog Nav.

#hangster #sereshaw #hangster reclist #top gun maverick reclist #reclist #fanfic reclist

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erikiara80 · 8 months

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New theory: I'm going to connect the Will with brown eyes to birthdaygate

I like the idea of Vecna stealing memories, and it's possible that in S5 the people Will loves forget him, or that he forgets them, but I think there might be another explanation about his birthday.

Ok, Will having brown eyes is only mentioned in the S1 Missing poster, and we only see them in the shed scene.

So, I wonder if they focus so much on his eyes in S2 not to show that he's possessed, but that there is a timeline where Will's eyes have always been brown.

It would be a smart way to hide the truth in plain sight; letting people believe that the color has changed because of the possession.

But S3 should make us doubt about that explanation. In fact, Billy's eye color never changes. There's even a close up of his eye at the end of 3x03 (here), when he's already controlled by the Mind Flayer. I think they wanted us to notice the difference between the two Williams.

But back to birthdaygate. They said that in S5 they included many S2 ideas and that we should definitely rewatch it. One of the reasons could be the mention of Will's birthday and the I forgot your birthday card in 2x04.

I talk about the Will the Wise scene here

Theory: Maybe the Will with brown eyes was born on March 22, but not the Will with hazel eyes, the one we've seen in every season, including S4. If that's true, it means that nobody forgot his birthday in S4.

We can't be sure, because we don't see what color Will's eyes are when Joyce says 'Do you know what March 22nd is', or when she looks at Will the Wise (and the birthday card). But I find it interesting that Will's birthday is mentioned in the only scene in the entire show where his eyes are brown. The same color mentioned in the Missing poster. And that we only see the birthday card in S1, the season when they make the poster, and then in one shot in 2x04

The card in S1

And in 2x04

They even show Hopper's confusion here, because he doesn't see anything. In fact, in all the other shots/episodes the drawing is on another wall.

Before Joyce looks at the drawing

After she looks at it

The drawing in 2x01 and 2x05 (Will's eyes, always hazel)

I have questions tho. For example. The birthday card. Is it foreshadowing of Will's family forgetting his birthday, or about something important in the past that we'll see in S5?

Also, S4 starts with the mention of someone stealing thoughts. A hint about Vecna stealing the memory of the birthday, or about him spying on Max and the other kids?

The 'Be sure to specify birth date' could also have two meanings. That people forgot Will's birthday, or that it's not on March 22, like we thought.

Then in 4x08 Brenner says that One takes everything from his victims, including their memories. I know he didn't kill Will in S2, but he was literally in his mind. And I'm sure that line is important.

But let's say that the theory is correct and Will's birthday, the Will with hazel eyes, is not on March 22. Then when is it? I think it would make sense if it was just a few days later.

And maybe they told us when it is. March 29, Billy's birthday. The hint could be the fact that his name changes to William. Also, interesting that Not forgotten... If Will's birthday is really on March 29 then it's true, nobody forgot it.

So, maybe the Will with hazel eyes was born on March 29, and the Will with brown eyes was born on March 22.

And IF Will's birthday is on March 29, it makes also sense that Mike doesn't give him any present. Maybe that's why he was supposed to stay in Cali for a week. March 22-29. He wanted to be there for Will's birthday.

But then he sees Will at the airport and his brain stops working. Joyce goes to Russia, El gets arrested, and people start shooting them. They were all busy trying to stay alive and bury agents in the desert. I get that they didn't mention the birthday, lol

Also, this means that Will's birthday would be at the beginning of S5! Before the time jump, when he can hear Vecna again, when he can have visions of other birthdays and Lonnie. In the middle of the apocalypse.

It would make less sense imo if the birthday was before Spring Break, because I'm sure Mike would at least mention it and say that he was sorry he wasn't there.

So yeah,maybe I'm wrong, but seeing Will's birthday in S5, while they have to hide from soldiers, monsters and an angry mob would be epic.

Tagging you, @lilitblaukatz I'm curious to know what are your thoughts on birthdaygate

#byler #birthdaygate #will byers #mike wheeler #timeline theory #st vecna #henry/vecna/001 #henry/vecna/one #st theory #stranger things

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fujoreads · 4 months

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The Summer Hikaru Died Vol. 1 + 2 // Review & Thoughts

I just finished reading volume 2 and realized I did not talk about vol. 1 at all, so let's talk!

The Summer Hikaru Died (story & art by mokomokuren) is a cosmic horror story with a queer-coded complicated relationship, set in rural Japan. Got your interest? Well, you’re in for a ride!

CW: Death; Body & Cosmic Horror; Gay Panic & Homophobia

I honestly don’t remember how I got to know about this… I think someone talked about it in a podcast episode? I remember the concept being very interesting: your friend is gone for a week and when he comes back, it turns out he’s some sort of creature that only our protagonist is aware of.

I read both volumes with a huge time gap—almost an entire year, I think?—and every time I finished one, I was just too stunned to read much of any other thing that day. It’s immersive, it’s creepy, and it has that gay panic vibe only these types of works can give. I love me some fluffy and dramatic romance, but the angsty, scary and out there stuff is what conquers me.

I’ll admit: I thought this was going to be just another BL I’d forget soon enough, so the horror aspect caught me off guard… and I absolutely loved it! It’s intense without being always present. I wouldn’t say it’s psychological horror as the horror is present, but it does not rely on cheap jumpscares. Instead, it builds its tense atmosphere, and the use of cicadas for that is amazing. I remember getting the same anxiety-inducing feeling when reading Higurashi: When They Cry (the visual novel), like the heat is getting to you.

I’m not a huge horror fan. Not that I don’t like it—I love it—but I just can’t find stuff that suits my specific tastes. This one does, and I can’t get enough of it. I love mystery and horror but I hate the kind of horror that relies on visuals to scare the reader. This one managed to have a healthy balance and it serves as the exception.

It has Hikaru’s face. It has Hikaru’s voice. It even has Hikaru’s memories. But whatever came down from the mountains six months ago isn’t Yoshiki’s best friend. Whatever it is, it’s dangerous. Carrying on at school and hanging out as if nothing has changed—as if Hikaru isn’t gone—would be crazy...but when it looks so very like Hikaru...and acts so very like Hikaru…

This story is fantastic. It’s fast-paced, and yet you feel stuck in time, glued to your seat. I sometimes even forgot the background cicada noises I’d play while reading.

This is mysterious, but don’t expect your typical mystery read. This is a slice of life existencial thriller, dealing with bizarre creatures and worst of all—your own feelings.

Mokumokuren’s art is just superb. It’s so unique that if I wasn’t already drawn by the synopsis, I would have read it for the art alone. Not only is the artstyle pleasing to look at, but the way they draw perspectives and play with the shading does wonders to the horror elements.

Also, I have to shoutout to Abigail Blackman (the letterer) and Yen Press! The way the sound effects were inserts in the panels made a world of difference, especially when it comes to the cicada sounds.

The story follows mainly Yoshiki and Hikaru, two best friends in a rural Japanese village. Yoshiki is more of a gloomy kid, while Hikaru (just like his name, “light”) is the sunny, dumb kind. This all changes after the events the synopsis presents, showing Hikaru as more feeling, and even more childish.

These two are so interesting to follow: a co-dependent pair that doesn’t want to admit it and the way this shows through a literal monster is just delicious.

The way Yoshiki feels repulsed towards his friend and his own feelings, while feeling seduced to accept something that might not be so good to him—and yet, it feels right. He misses his friend and feels conflicting feelings towards this new creature inhabiting Hikaru’s body. Is it alright to accept this as Hikaru, or will it never be the same? Are is feelings true when directed to someone who isn’t there anymore?

The way Hikaru tries to come to terms with the meaning for his feelings and what is “Hikaru” and the being’s own identity. His strong feelings of loneliness and feeling overly attached to Yoshiki is something I could definitely relate to.

While there’s nothing explicitely better about queer media, something I’ve noticed is how more subtle and metaphorical dynamics and relationships can be, either because of direct societal prejudice or because of how queer people grow to hide their feelings, in fear of rejection and humiliation. Of course, the latter can also happen with hetero couples, but the feelings of rejection that can lead to co-dependence and loneliness are just that much stronger within the queer sphere, especially amongst gay men—and it’s visceral, to the point of fitting right into the horror realm.

Dealing with the unknown can be scary, and the way mokumokuren portrays this relationship and mixes it with the cosmic horror elements is masterfully done. It feels gross but erotic—like a guilty pleasure you find as a teenager—without ever being pornographic in nature. Hell, there’s not even a kiss or explicit thoughts, it’s all a play of “will they, won’t they” for the readers to munch over. While this is a fast-paced series, it’s also a slow burn when it comes to their relationship.

The writing iself isn’t anything too grand, due to its format. You can’t expect too much of a focus on writing in a visual medium.

I’ll talk about this into more detail in the following paragraphs, but the way the writing mixes with the environment and horror elements is where it peaks. There’s occasional bolding and a play with the font sizes, making it more tense to follow along.

I’ve always loved stories set in rural Japan, but all I’ve read that checked my boxes were set before the 2000s—before smartphones and other modern technologies.

The Summer Hikaru Died is set in contemporaneity and even then, you sometimes forget it. There are occasional shows of a smartphone, and even a mention of the Nintendo Switch, but the rural setting makes it so that feels useless.

When reading Higurashi (which is set in the 80s), I always thought “man, this wouldn’t have happened if they had smartphones” but reading this now, I realize that was a futile thought. Sure, they could use the GPS tracker in moments of panic, or call a friend, but in the moment of fear and paranoia, that could only aggravate a situation. Mokumokuren takes full advantage of that: someone sneaking a glance at a message notification they weren’t supposed to see; being too scared to grab the phone…

The horror elements here were only intensified by the creative use of the format!

The concept for this story by itself isn’t anything unique: things inhabiting our loved ones’ bodies isn’t a new thing. However, the way this trope is used to explore other fears and themes is where it stands out.

The exploration of sexuality mixed with feelings of guilt for both parties; the “what if” scenarios in Yoshiki’s mind that could have saved Hikaru; and the overall way being queer plays into society, especially one such as the rural community in Japan.

It’s not uncommon for queer people to have lost a friend or two, be it to mental health or an STD, and the way homossexuality is sometimes compared to an “illness” by the townfolk, I can see the being inside Hikaru as a personification of his feelings and desires, and how Yoshiki struggles to accept them and his own love.

The series isn’t over, but I strongly recommend checking it out.

The third (and latest) volume comes out in April 16th, and I’m super excited! From the cover alone, it may focus more on the minor cast, such as the group of school friends.

In summary: this is a fast-paced (but slow burn when it comes to the main relationship) horror story, more within the cosmic horror sub-genre. It has BL elements and I personally find it to be the main topic, even if it’s not explicit. If you enjoy these, go for it!

Even if you’re not a fan of BL, I find it interesting and subtle enough most times so even people who aren’t into BL can enjoy it, as long as you enjoy slow-burn horror.

I’ll give all my starts and love to this one, as it’s one of my personal favorites! I’m looking forward to more from mokumokuren!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Thank you for reading it all to the end! Hey, kind stranger! Would you be so kind and consider giving me a little tip? It can be as low as 3 bucks and it’d make a huuuuuge difference!! If you tip 10€ (or higher), you can dictate my next read and be credited (if you’d like) on that review! Have a nice day!!

#blog #review #manga #bookblr #the summer hikaru died #yaoi bl #eldritch #cosmic horror #rural Japan #cw death #cw body horror

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ktkat99 · 11 months

Text

Two Weeks Of Whump Challenge Day 11. Hanging (By A Thread)

TW: Depression and loss of apatite.

"It feels like breathing is a chore. Like something you have to do. Like something you should be able to do on your own, but you just keep forgetting. You… you feel like you're walking, trying to just keep moving forwards, but with every step, someones adding more and more weight. But you know you can't stop. You're not allowed. Because everyone always says that if you just keep going, it will all get better. And so all your focus is on just… moving. One foot in front of the other. Again. And again. And again. But it keeps getting harder and harder. And then sometimes you wake up and realize you've been so focused on just moving that you've blocked out literally everything else. Your life, your friends, your family. The whole world. It's all kept moving without you. You weren't necessary."

Tim shifted and looked at his hands, leaning against Bruce's side. "It sucks." He whispered. "I know it does."

Mad Hatter had set off a device earlier that night that amplified all of Batman's most negative emotions until they overwhelmed him and left him disoriented.

"But, please, just… come back?"

Tim, having only been Robin a few months by this point, had frozen in place. He hadn't been sure what was more important at the moment, catching Mad Hatter, or helping Batman.

He'd decided to stay and help Batman.

He'd gotten him into the Batmobile.

He'd managed to drive the both of them back to the cave.

And now, hours later, he was seated on the edge of Bruce's bed, trying to talk to his mentor as the man sat, still as a statue, staring at a photo of himself and his last Robin.

"I… I don't know what the right thing to say is. I don't… I don't know how to help you." Tim swallowed the lump in his throat. He'd been talking for hours, and had barely gotten any reaction.

"Jason's gone, and I can't change that. I can't fix that. And I'm sorry." He felt hot tears as they fell.

"But, if it helps at all, I'm here. I know I'm not who you want, but… at least you're not alone. I always…" Tim trailed off rubbing his eyes with his hoodie sleeve. "I always hate being alone."

Yyyyy

"Hey, Bruce?" Dick knocked on the open door of his father's home office.

"Hey. What's up?" Bruce greeted, eyebrows drawing together in concern.

Dick leaned in the doorway, worry written all over his face. "It's Tim." He nodded down the hall. "He's not eating."

Bruce frowned. That wasn't good.

Tim had been struggling for a while lately, but a few days ago a case had gone sideways and he'd gotten a nasty dose of Fear Toxin.

He'd gotten through it after about half a day, but whatever he'd been forced to see…

"I'm sure he'll eat when he's hungry. Why don't you leave the plate on his nightstand?" At least, Bruce hoped he would.

After waking up, Tim hadn't spoken to any of them beyond a few hoarse whispers about being tired and just wanting to sleep.

They'd helped him upstairs to his bed, and that's where he'd stayed.

At first, they'd all just been happy to see that he was resting and actually taking time to recover.

Then, they'd been relieved and even joked when it seemed he was taking some time to just relax and be lazy for a bit.

But now?

Now they were starting to get worried.

"I don't… Bruce, I don't think he will." Dick sighed. "I brought him dinner last night and the plates still on his nightstand. He didn't touch a damn thing."

Bruce nodded and stood. "I'll see what I can do."

He made his way down the hall to Tim's room and knocked on the closed door.

No response.

"Buddy, it's Bruce. I'm coming in." He called.

No response.

He opened the door and walked in. The light was off and the window closed, making the room dark enough that his eyes had to adjust.

Dirty clothes lay all over the floor, dropped and left where they'd fallen.

His desk held a closed laptop and several stacks of papers and files, all stamped with the familiar Wayne Enterprises logo.

The skateboard he used to ride everywhere was leaned against the wall, coated in a visible layer of dust.

And the small lump under the blankets on the bed hadn't so much as twitched since he'd walked in.

Bruce walked closer, seeing that Dick had been right. The plate they'd made for Tim the night before hadn't been touched. Balanced beside it, hanging over the edge of the nightstand, was a bowl of oatmeal.

Dick had sliced a peach into it, the way Tim loved.

He hadn't even taken a bite.

"Tim." Bruce sat carefully on the edge of the mattress. "Are you awake?"

No response.

"Can I get you anything?"

No response.

"Do you want something else to eat?"

It was starting to feel like Bruce was talking to a wall.

Sighing, feeling helpless to protect his child from this invisible foe, Bruce gently set his hand on Tim's shoulder, rubbing it slowly.

"I don't know what you need."

He, again, didn't get a response.

"I don't know what you saw. I don't know what you went through, or if that's even what triggered this."

Bruce reached out with his other hand and felt the bowl of oatmeal. It was room temperature, and starting to dry out.

How long had Dick sat here trying to get his brother to eat something?

"Please, let me help."

He begged softly.

"Please tell me what I can do."

Tim still offered no response. Bruce would almost have thought he was asleep if it weren't for the fact that he could see that Tim's eyes were open. He was staring blankly at the wall, back facing his father.

"You told me once… what it felt like. When you got like this."

Tim blinked.

"You said that it felt like the world and everyone in it just kept moving without you."

Bruce gave Tim's arm a firm squeeze.

"Tim, I'm not moving. I'm not going anywhere."

He rested his forehead on Tim's shoulder.

"Not without you. Because you're my son, and I love you."

Tim's next exhale was shaky.

"I don't care how long it takes. Just, please. Come back to me? I-,"

Bruce trailed off when Tim shifted ever so slightly.

He reached up and grabbed the hand that was still resting on his arm, squeezing it tight.

His hand was shaking, but Bruce chose to focus on the fact that he was moving at all.

"I'm here, Tim." He whispered. "I promise, I'm here."

Tim gently tugged the hand, and Bruce let him move it.

He pulled it to his chest and hugged it tight with both arms like a child afraid to lose their security blanket.

And then he broke.

Silent tears streamed down his cheeks as he ducked his head and curled up into a ball, still desperately clinging to Bruce's arm.

Heart breaking, Bruce wrapped his other arm under Tim's body and hauled him upright, pulling him into his lap.

Tim let himself be moved, but his grip didn't waver.

His entire body shook with sobs, which quickly dampened Bruce's shirt.

Neither of them cared.

"I'm here, son. I'm here. I've got you."

If Tim heard what Bruce was whispering, he gave no sign.

#batman #bruce wayne #bruce wayne whump #tim drake #dick grayson #batfam #red robin #nightwing #tim drake whump #bruce and tim

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cdyssey · 1 year

Text

Yellowjackets 2.08 Reactions

CW: Cannibalism

The opening scene of Mari and Misty helping Lottie pee is harrowing. Jfc. One thing that it’s high time for me to give YJ flowers for is its unflinching look at the human body. It’s unafraid to show us what the body does and how it functions in every facet. It’s gross at times, and yeah, that’s the point. Having a body can be gross; what comes out of it is abject.

MISTY CALLING MARI OUT!!!!!! WOW, THAT WAS GOOD. But now I’m sad for Mari. All of these girls are so fucked up.

Every time Akilah talks about her baby nephew, I wanna cry bc I have a baby nephew and I’d do anything in the world for him.

NOT FUCKING NUGGET BEING DE A D. GODDAMMIT.

THESE GIRLS ARE SO FUCKED UP.

If I had a nickel for every time Taissa has called out her teammates for talking to corpses, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.

Shauna returns to the group and they’re all so happy and tipsy; just five minutes ago, all these women were howling and dancing in the flurrying snow.

“Well, I didn’t have a fucking tape measure.” KQKWDJFNWK

Misty: “I should have done it myself.” Yeah, lmfao.

Van immediately knowing that Tai is lying to her.

VAN JUST YEETING THE KEYS OUT INTO THE WILDERNESS QOOQKDOWEK

The girls are fighting!!!!!

Lottie plays the peacemaker here. THE SHARING SHACK!!

Shauna, anguished, disgusted: No.

That cut from Lauren to Liv was so good.

Jesus, that shot of the two Tais in the window.

Oh, my fucking god. Belt soup. They have to eat belt soup.

(Even months and months after her death, mere weeks after they literally ate her, they’re still consuming Jackie Taylor.)

“Lottie took it from her to protect us.” Such a goddamn fascinating line because the implication is that if Shauna hadn’t been allowed that catharsis, she would have wrought vengeance upon them all.

“Maybe Lottie dying wouldn’t be the worst thing.” Goddamn. It’s a mirror of Nat telling Jackie’s remains that she was the lucky one.

Coach Ben and Nat’s relationship is still one of my favorite things ever. God, I’ll never forget their moment in the woods at Doomcoming.

Ben seems much more invested and present here (and while he’s rifling through Javi’s drawings) than we’ve seen him look all season; Misty really got through to him!!

Oh, my God. She almost tried to eat the mouse skeleton. (Like Shauna, if Akilah had to, she’d eat a creature that she loved to survive.)

Taissa hearing the dripping as well hhhh. THAT FUCKING BLOOD IS TERRIFYING.

I always get chills when I think of the theory of Mari’s hallucinations possibly portending her death as Pit Girl.

Matt the Cop is the FUCKING WORST. Every time he says something with that smarmy grin, I grind my teeth!!!!!!!!!!!!!

How can he fucking look Callie in the eye?!

Go, Callie, for video taping him!!

“The other-just-as-problematic cop has your back. Congratulations.” I LOVE HER.

That fucking low blow about the cannibalism. KILL KILL KILL.

Eurghdhhdh, the photos of Adam.

WOW, THE GIRLIES (cough, Misty) DID THINK OF THE TATTOOS.

Jeff doesn’t back down from Kevyn, underscoring his utter loyalty to Shauna, the lengths he’d be willing to go to protect her, and I really do love him for it.

The girls are fucking SNIPING at each other in the Sharing Shack!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Yeah. I’ve had Van’s address for years. You could’ve just asked me instead of outsourcing.” AKQKQOWIOWOWWJJDNSJE. Goddamn, never change Misty.

OH, ALL THE SECRETS ARE COMING OUT TONIGHT, HUH? YEAH, I’M HERE FOR IT.

MISTY NOT EVEN HESITATING TO GO FOR THE JESSICA ROBERTS REVEAL!!

“And, fuck, Shauna, it’s not like you couldn’t use the money.” GOD GOD GOD GOD?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AND THEN JUST STRAIGHT UP CALLING NAT AN ADDICT.

CLAWS OUT TONIGHT.

Misty’s concern for Ben here is so touching, esp. right on the heels of her adult self saying that she fixed things, like she always did. She’s fucked up in a thousand myriad ways, at least a hundred of which the other girls are not, but it’s a testament to the show’s writing and Samantha/Christina’s acting, that it’s genuinely clear that she believes she’s doing it for some greater good.

Nat tenderly caring for Javi. 😭 So glad that young Nat’s getting some more screen time. I’ve missed her!!

“You’re a good person. And I’m sorry for… ever making you feel otherwise.” Sobs. Listen, Travis gets it.

“If I die, don’t waste my body.” Goddamn. Even on the verge of death, Lottie’s thinking about what’s best for the collective.

“Oh, wait, maybe those were her hands.” AKKQKWDNWJNSS. Van, I fucking love you.

“Misty, you are nothing if not proactive.” / “Thank you?” AOQOQKWOWJIWJWDJD.

SHAUNA’S FACE WHEN MISTY SAID THAT RANDY MENTIONED JEFF EJDJEND.

I’m so fucking glad this secret is coming out—all cards on the table!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Love that shirt on Elijah. Really makes his eyes pop. Walter possibly being a fuckin’ snitch. I think it might be a misdirect, though.

THIS JEFF NIGHTMARE JESUS.

“Why the fuck would I like it?” AWMEKKEWMSN

The nightmare told us something we’ve deeply suspected for a long time: Jeff loves Shauna, yeah, but he cannot fucking handle the wilderness within her.

JEFF KNOWS ABOUT WILDERNESS BABY.

THIS BEING THE FIRST FUCKING TIME CALLIE HAS LEARNED ABOUT HIM.

GOD GOD GOD

Callie reacting with absolute devastation when she hears this. She loves her mom so much.

This talk between Jeff and Callie is so goddamn tender and good. But his emphasis that she doesn’t have to bear her parents’ burdens is tragic in light of the fact that, Jesus Christ, she already has. From the moment Callie Sadecki entered the world, she was a product of all the effed up shit her parents had gone through, and now she just learned that for herself.

Shauna saying “Me either” at being unable to imagine being in the cabin without Lottie. Like, girl, YOU PUT HER IN THIS POSITION. WOQKWKWOWNDDJNDNDS. YOU’RE SO FUCKED UP ASNDNSND

Taissa: “You lied to me.” / It’s personal for Tai after all the shit she and Shauna have gone through together.

This Tai-Shauna back-and-forth is brutal. The reaction shot to Lottie just made me realize that she’s been quiet during all of these exchanges.

“… I probably would have fucking killed them.” Shauna’s unflinching honesty here is so, so good. Every uncontrollable impulse she’s had this season has been unexplainable to her, but she knows for certain that she would have killed, even if it meant hurting her friends. She’s done far worse to them before.

Hell, they’ve all sunk their teeth into each other, with equal amounts of violence and all-consuming love.

Oh, God. Lottie doesn’t believe in therapy and psychological needs anymore. 😬 And ironically enough, Nat is the one who is advocating for talking it out.

ARE THEY DRAWING CARDS TO FUCKING HUNT

OH GOD I THOUGHT THIS WOULD BE LATER

THEY START IN THE FIRST WINTER?!

THE QUEEN CARD

AND THEY’RE ALL COMPLICIT. THEY’RE ALL STANDING IN THIS CIRCLE BECAUSE THEY BELIEVE THEY’RE MAKING THE CORRECT CHOICE OF ACTION. HOLY GODDAMN SHIT

Tai’s visceral sigh of relief when Van doesn’t draw it.

JAVI FUCKING RUNNING TO HIS BROTHER. I’M UNWELL

NATALIE?!

WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT

And they’re all in goddamn tears.

JACKIE TAYLOR’S FUCKING NECKLACE FOR GOOD LUCK.

I AM SICK. FUCKING JACKIE FLASHBACK.

THE GIRL WHO HAUNTS THE NARRATIVE; SHE WILL ALWAYS HAUNT THE NARRATIVE.

SHAUNA THE BUTCHER. THEY WERE GONNA SLAUGHTER HER IN THE CABIN.

I love how Ben steps out for a few hours and the team decides to resort to ritual killing and cannibalism.

“Wait. You’re gonna have to look me in the eye.” Shauna is visibly terrified. Jesus Christ. It’s one thing to carve up something that’s already dead—a deer, a bear, your very best friend—it’s another thing entirely to hold a knife up to the throat of someone you love and slaughter them.

TRAVIS SAVING NAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

NOT THE GIRLS FUCKING HOWLING AS THEY GO HUNTING. THIS MAKES THE SCENE LAST WEEK WHERE THE ADULTS WERE HOWLING SO FUCKED UP!! THAT WAS THEIR HUNTING CRY!!

This needle drop is insanely good.

Adult Shauna, right on the heels of the girls sacrificially hunting Nat: “None of that was real, Lottie.” GOD GOD GOD

“Natalie’s right, look at what we lived through.” NAT, WHO LITERALLY GOT HUNTED!!!!

OH GOD. LOTTIE MATTHEWS FULLY SUGGESTING THEY SACRIFICE ONE OF THEMSELVES. GIRL.

LOTTIE HAD THE EUTHANASIA DRINK ALL PREPARED. JESUS

“It is quick and it is also painless.” Unlike the death that those hunted will receive—i.e. Pit Girl.

“Misty, you did actually kill someone.” AKWMSNSNDNNSSN.

Van is the only one whose big secret didn’t get revealed in the circle.

“Why don’t you just volunteer to drink it, Lottie?” HOLY FUCK. THE DISDAIN

LOTTIE IS REALLY ON THE VERGE OF CONVINCING ALL THE WOMEN THAT THIS IS HOW IT GOES.

Ben, while ur doing the good work, your girlies are hunting Natalie in the woods.

Javi trying to save Nat too. 😭 And this is the most he’s spoken this season since talking to Ben in that one episode.

THE WAY THEY BREAK OUT OF THEIR ANIMALISTIC STATES WHEN JAVI FALLS THROUGH THE ICE.

THE GIRLS ALL STANDING THERE.

MISTY ACTIVELY TRYING TO FACILITATE THE DEATH.

“If you save him, the others will get you.” AND SHE’S FUCKING GODDAMN RIGJT

AND NATALIE STOPS STRUGGLING. BECAUSE SHE WANTS TO LIVE.

TRAVIS AND JAVI BOTH TRIED TO SAVE HER. I’M

THIS IS THE MOST UPSETTING FUCKING THING I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY GODDAMN LIFE

IT’S A REVERSAL OF THE WHITE MOOSE.

I’M NOT WELL.

NOT VAN SAYING THE WILDERNESS CHOSE.

THIS EPISODE IS UNREAL. HOW IS IT EVEN MORE UNHINGED THAN “DOOMCOMING?!”

THE PROMO THE PROMO THE PROMO THE PROMO

THE WOMEN ARE GOING TO FUCKING HUNT ONE OF THEMSELVES!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IN 2021!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

TRAVIS EATINT HIS BROTHER IS SO FUCKING. IT IS?????

#yellowjackets spoilers #yellowjackets #s: yellowjackets #maggie blogs #I CAN’T FUCKING DEAL WITH THIS SHOW!!!#UNHINGED

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regina-cordium · 9 months

Note

I dont know much about pjo, never got past book one but I distinctly remember the capture the flag bit

anyway, how do u think each of the newsies would behave in CtF?

Capture the flag is honestly extremely iconic of rick. Forget the Roman war games; let a bunch of teenagers beat the snot out of each other for a flag

In the books, it seems the two teams are always Athena vs Ares, which makes sense since they're the two war gods. Hermes and Apollo seem to always go with Athena, while Aphrodite always with Ares. Idk if there are other cabins that always go with one side over another, but I'm gonna trrrryyyyy to keep it in that line

Team Athena: Davey makes the plan, while Sarah looks it over to catch anything he missed or overthought. Katherine is expected to take charge with the party actually going after the flag, because she's a daughter of Zeus. She goes along with it for a while because That's What's Expected, but after her first quest she's like "yeah fuck that" and becomes Davey's new strategy partner. Race hides the flag; there have been weeks where he forgets where it is, and Buttons has to make a new one. Jack and Crutchie are guards; Jack makes people feel dazed and exhausted, while Crutchie sits in a tree shooting people with his slingshot.

Meanwhile, Hotshot tries to go brawn over brains. He draws out what his scouts say the Athena camp layout is and tries to use brute force to scatter their forces while another subsection of the group goes after the flag. Mush guards the flag because he's got charmspeak and convinces people that actually, they wanna go grab some hot chocolate, like, who wants to stomp around the gross woods looking for a stupid piece of fabric?

And the others, who I don't know where to put

Les - Not Allowed To Play. Race and Crutchie keep trying to sneak him in, but Davey eventually gets them to stop. When asked what he said, Race and Crutchie just get far-away looks in their eyes and say "You don't want to know"

Spot - like I said in my other post, people fight for him to be on their team. He's so tired of it. Half the time he just sits out. Will only play if sufficiently bribed (although it does seem like he's on Athena's side more often 🤔🤔🤔 interesting 🤔🤔🤔)

Blink - similar to Spot, but he's less like the sure-fire win Spot is looked at as and more like a little luck boost. He honestly doesn't care about the game, he just likes watching Mush make everyone trip over themselves

Romeo - uses the Mist to make people lose their way or think they're hearing things. He is not allowed to play with Mush; they are a dangerous combination and know it

Albert - the long suffering head medic who just goes crazy, goes stupid during capture the flag. A not-insignificant number of people in the infirmary after the game are there because of Albert.

Finch - plays both sides, nobody knows whose team he's on on any given day. Makes booby traps and uses the games as an excuse to test new weapons

Stray - similar to Romeo in that she tries to confuse people as to where they are, but physically changes the trees/foliage

Elmer - also not allowed to play because he's A Literal Child, but he manages to convince them to let him play every so often. Y'know that "i'm just a little guy" tiktok audio? He's just A Little Guy and has KILLER puppy dog eyes and makes people feel bad when they try to get around him/get the flag from him

#thank you!!#signed and delivered #angry-kid-with-no-money #newsies #newsies pjo au

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jezmmart · 6 months

Text

Chamomile Comic Trivia #29

#151 - Awful

I remember this one came to me when good art friend Louistrations was chatting about a leaky ceiling or something similar he was suffering from. I hope it's long no longer an issue or you have a bucket to sleep with if not Louis!

I forget if this is the first time I've done it, but for a condense gag comic like Cammie, having little "The Next Day..." type captions just feels a bit off and breaks up the rhythm of the joke for me, which is why I instead went for a panel showing night and sunrise and outfit changes instead to imply the passing of a day.

#152 - Breakfast

Basically Cammie repeating an exact experience I had on the way to work once in full. Looking up photo reference for shop exteriors and such in the UK is always interesting, I never really notice how often the buildings of businesses have elaborate stuff like window boxes and such because they pretty much always have flats above or the building was never built with the modern business below in mind at all!

Oh yeah... and also this one published in March 2020. I think at this point I was two weeks ahead on producing the comic, and in that two weeks this comic aged terribly, coming out right at the point where panic buying began and the supermarkets became stupidly empty. The panic buying had already started when I drew it, so I felt the need to make sure I drew a fully stocked establishing shot of the supermarket to make it clear that panic buying wasn't the cause of the empty shelves Cammie observed, the pastries in the little supermarket bakery section just weren't out yet! But what took me by surprise is that two weeks later, when the comic published, that phenomena was still VERY much ongoing.

Here's the uncovered panel since I spent a good little while on it despite mostly being covered by speech bubbles! Still very basic once you really look at it, but a definite improvement on visual fidelity since #39!

And... who was that hiding behind a speech bubble this whole time!?

My old character Frogy, after some marmite as usual! It's hard to tell at this level of detail if it's really him... I wonder if Frogy is a franchise within the fiction of Chamomile (baby Cammie was wearing a t-shirt with him on in... hey, #39, the one I linked just above again!) and someone left their toy on the shelf here, or whether this is truly the first case of including an actual character cameo from another work of mine in Chamomile, confirming that it and Frogy take place in the same universe, with dire, dire lore implications! (I mean for a start he's a celebrity if Cammie had a t-shirt of him).

#153 - Office

A little follow-up to Layla's storyline since I was done with it but it never really got a conclusion to return to the status quo. I recall the joke was more or less a straight adaptation of a real life conversation, perhaps between Molly and I, though I forget the specifics at this point, 3 years later. It was also a fun opportunity to explore some in-universe humour, sometimes it's nice to just hang out with the characters making jokes among themselves rather than have them act erratically or larger-than-life in some way for the sake of humour.

#154 - Bush

I remember at this point - or at least two weeks prior when I began work on this comic, I made the firm decision I WASN'T going to have the pandemic happen in the comic. This was the point where it was all anyone could think about, and I would rather the comic remain a thing people could enjoy a laugh from every week detached from the real world. I also didn't want the safety conditions of the pandemic holding back the scenes or character interactions I could make.

In fact, at the same time I made this decision, I specifically started this comic with the idea of making a little oasis of tranquility from the rising stress of the situation, going with cloudgazing and drawing that first panel and trying to come up with a joke from there - this is one I literally just ad-libbed at the time instead of opening my notepad of ideas. It remains a little favourite of mine!

My only regret is that I wanted the space to have that fairly nice big panel at the top but needed somewhere for the first line of dialogue to go. I kept it floating just OUT of the panel to hopefully keep that first panel timeless and encourage readers to linger on it for a moment and percieve the atmosphere, but there's... something I'm not happy with it, I dunno, it doesn't quite work for my eyes, but might be entirely in my head!

[Trivia Archive | Browse from most recent]

#jezmm #chamomile comic trivia #art insight #frogy splatoon

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illogarithmil · 9 months

Text

Often I look at how Productive people are on here and get a bit distressed because I feel very ineffectual by comparison, so as a form of self-care I decided to go and list all my ongoing projects to remind myself that I'm *not* ineffectual, just sometimes inefficient.

Creative projects I presently have ongoing in addition to two seperate bits of academic/social research:

Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay 4th Ed campaign, monthly

Mongoose Traveller 2e campaign, monthlyish

Narrative Warhammer Fantasy Battles campaign using a unique campaign system which I designed and am playtesting for general release in the process

Reading a book every week for an entire year

Designing a massive modular homebrew RPG and low-fantasy setting for it that all my RPG friends and I will be able to play in for the rest of our lives once I'm out of uni and have time and energy to run campaigns again (*please ignore the above, they don't count because reasons*), including detailed climate maps, a table of fictional cultures presently 70 pages long and a setttinh map that'll be about two metres wide when completed

Reading every single product in the TTRPGS for Trans Rights in Florida bundle (link, by the way) - might do a review of the ones I like when I'm done, I'm getting close now!

Projects I want to start soon:

A third revision of my TTRPG Candlelight, designed for telling narrative fantasy stories the way I like to tell them. Probably too much of a heartbreaker to release to the public, but the second version is really good for what it is and just aching to be reworked based on what I've learned about game design in the last third of a year (mostly from the aforementioned bundle-reading)

Making a hack of Vampire: the Masquerade that makes it a sword and Sorcery RPG with Greek Epic tinges, because A) it would be funny and B) I actually think it would work shockingly well with minimal rules changes

Designing a lot of homebrew rules for Warhammer Fantasy: other human nations based on actual cool setting lore rather than the random stereotype mashup of Matthias Eliasson's Warhammer Armies Project and rules for raising armies in a way unique to each faction and for incorporating the strategic and operational level into your games

Projects I am actively preparing to start:

Second game of a FIST two-shot about hunting down psychic vampire demon summoning nazi occultist undead Northern Irish loyalist paramilitary child kidnappers and tarot card thieves

Vampire the Masquerade/Mage the Ascension two shot in which a group of vampiric elders make a huge fucking mess whilst trying to clear out some local anarchs and the Technocracy gets sent in to fix it.

Projects I technically am working on but are staring at me accusatorially at the moment as they perch on the edge of the abyss of forgetfulness:

Drawing a fairly complex encounter map of a coastal cove for use in some rpg or another some day

Designing a TTRPG about vikings and nominative determinism (it's called In Search of a Name, I've posted about it on here before a bit and I still really like it conceptually but it's maybe a bit narrow given I'm not actually a huge viking fan so I think the concepts might get cannibalised into other things)

Going through every trope on TVtropes to construct a fake TVtropes page for an old D&D game which I really loved (I had read half of all trope pages on TVtropes when I last updated it a month or so ago, over the course of about nine months)

Projects recently resurrected from that abyss and eager to regrow:

AYUG, a Skirmish wargame with cards I designed with some friends a couple of years back about battles between collections of weird philosophical devotees fighting for their beliefs in spaces that literally shift to represent those beliefs, featuring hypercapitalist fairies, an army of boltzmann brains and a faction whose major mechanic was probing socratic dialogue that made your opponent give up their beliefs and go home. We all loved this game, I wrote a load of lore for it and I have no idea why we stopped.

Memories of the Light, a system designed to port traveller-style lifepath mechanics into 20th Anniversary World of Darkness

The Dragons of Čachtice, a Vampire the Masquerade... supplement? I guess? about a tradition of ghouls linked to Erszebet Bathori (Elizabeth Bathory) who bathed in the blood of vampires to gain the powers of a ghoul without thr bond.

Would you look at that? I feel (marginally) less useless. My therapist will be so happy that I'm Challenging Negative Self-Talk™. Apologies if I've now become part of the problem that originally sent me down this road... moral of the story is, though, I guess that if you feel like you're not finishing anything it might just be that you're splitting your energies a lot, and that's fine and cool and good too and probably makes you a more interesting person - certainly more interesting to me!

And if you are just ultra-focussed and productive, please consider the impact your actions have on others and become horribly distractable instead /j <3

#creativity #volatility thereof #posts I've had boiling up for a while now #ttrpg community #creative process

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softiem · 3 years

Text

you used to paint his skies (pt. 2)

pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x GN!Reader

overview: The one in which Bokuto is still swearing up and down that he loves you, but the nagging feeling in your chest is too strong to ignore.

word count: ~4.3k

content warnings: mentions of cheating, swearing, MSBY!Bokuto, mildly suggestive scene at the end (no nsfw), our baby Bokuto kind of loses it at the end, don’t let the fluffy interludes deceive you again

notes: I’M SO SORRY FOR LITERALLY BEING DEAD FOR 6 MONTHS,,, Here’s the second part to “you used to paint his skies” :D (I think this is better than part one — at least I hope so). Some people asked to be tagged for this second part, so those will be below. Thank you for reading, darlings ʕ ´•̥̥̥ ᴥ•̥̥̥`ʔ <333

part one.

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“Baby?”

Faint sniffles came from Bokuto, whose head was currently nestled on your lap, the two of you strewn across the sofa. His arms were wrapped tight around your waist, as if he were afraid that holding you any looser would cause you to disappear from his arms. His voice was quiet, meek — nothing like the loud, boisterous ball of energy you’d grown to adore, to cherish.

To fall in love with.

Now, here the both of you were, a pile of cracked and fragmented pieces of the love you once shared, desperately grasping at whatever you could salvage from the mess.

You hummed a response.

“Are we gonna be okay?” Bokuto turned his head, his eyes staring up at you — wide, teary, and filled with a broken sense of hope.

In an attempt to avoid breaking down a third time, you cleared your throat. You still couldn’t look down at him, into his eyes that seemed to praise your very existence, even after the pain you caused.

“Please.” His voice cracked.

“Let’s not talk about that right now, Kou-Bokuto.”

He bit his lip roughly, enough to bite into the skin and draw a slight trace of blood. Choking on a weak sob, he nestled his head into your stomach once more. He couldn’t stop you from calling him that name anymore; he’d lost that privilege.

What could he have been asking for? For you to simply just call him your Koutarou again? For you not to leave him and stay in his arms? For you to kiss him and wipe those tears running from his pretty eyes as you tell him you’ll love him forever, no matter what?

Quite honestly, Bokuto didn’t know what he was asking of you; he didn’t know what he wanted from you.

The only thing running through his mind was the fact that he’d just ruined the best thing to ever happen to him.

You.

You, the love of his life. He knew you like the back of his hand.

He knew how, despite your small tendency to be romantically constipated, you tried your best to love him — even to the point of using stupidly cheesy pet names for each other.

– – – – –

“Please, baby!” Bokuto had your hands tightly grasped in his. “I swear, if you do this for me, I won’t ever ask you for anything else for the rest of my life — okay, that’s a lie because I really want ice cream after this, but you know what I mean!”

“Kou.” You drew in a breath. “I’m saying yes to the ice cream later, but those are the cheesiest pet names I have ever heard of.”

You saw the way Bokuto visibly deflated as he heard your soft rejection of his idea.

For the rest of the night (after stopping by the store and getting yourselves two tubs of ice cream, of course), the two of you sat cuddled up on the sofa half-paying attention to whatever B-list movie was recommended to you. Occasionally, you would hear Bokuto let out a deep sigh, most likely to try and guilt trip you into doing what he asked of you earlier.

Turning your head to face him, you grinned at the little pout on his lips as his eyes bore holes into the TV screen.

“Hey, Kou.”

Nothing. His attention stayed glued to the TV. The only sign that showed he’d heard you was the deepening of his pout.

“Koutaro, pretty boy. I’m talking to you,” you giggled.

Still nothing. You racked your brain for all of the possible ways this could end — every one of them resulted in the same thing.

Sighing, you brought up a finger to poke at his cheek. “Hey, dovey.”

If Bokuto were a dog, his ears would have stood straight up and his tail would have started wagging as he whipped his head around to look at you.

“Say that again,” he demanded, his eyes wide and sparkling and the corner of his lips twitching, just barely restraining a smile.

When you didn’t reply, his fingers prodded at your side — a promise to tickle you if you didn’t humour him right now.

“Say it again! Who am I?”

“You’re my dovey.”

“And who are you?”

You struggled to fight the urge to curl up into yourself as you answered him, “I’m your lovey.”

“And what are we together?” Bokuto brought his face closer to yours, his eyes going back and forth between your eyes and lips.

“We’re lovey dovey.” You completed it with a pair of awkward jazz hands.

With that, Bokuto’s face split into a blinding smile as his laughter rang through the living room. He brought you tight into his arms and buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“Yes! I knew you could do it, lovey!” Your cheeks grew warm as you were subjected to his rain of kisses on your face.

Pulling him in for one last kiss to your lips, you whispered, “I love you so much, Kou.”

– – – – –

He knew how he was always the first thing on your mind; you’d put him as your first priority without fail, no matter how busy you were, even when he hadn’t put you as his.

– – – – –

Bokuto stared up at the crisp, white ceiling — hospitals were never a fun place to be in. He was broken from his thoughts when the door to his room burst open, revealing you in your ever-ethereal work clothes rushing toward him.

“Babe! Are you alright?” Stopping at the side of his bed, you brought his hand up to place a kiss on his knuckles.

Bokuto let out a light laugh as he intertwined his fingers with yours. “Yeah, it’s just a sprained ankle. Nothing to worry about, honey.”

“What do you mean ‘nothing to worry about’? Your coach said that you’d have to be out for two weeks!”

“That’s not too much! It’s not like I’ll be missing the whole season, angel.”

“But, Kou, you also have to–”

Bokuto stopped your worried rambling as he pulled you down, giving you a soft kiss on your lips and cheeks. He gave you a smile.

“Stop worrying, baby! Everything will be fine because I have the cutest, smartest, and kindest nurse to help me recover, right?”

“And who’s that?” You sent him a teasing look as your hands shuffled through your pockets looking for your phone.

“You, silly!” He paused before staring up at you in concern. “You are going to take care of me, right, baby?”

“I don’t know about that, Kou. Work has been hectic lately.” You pulled out your phone.

“But I’m injured! And I’m your boyfriend too! You can’t just leave your injured boyfriend alone to fend for himself! Baby!” Walking away from his bed, you exited the hospital room, tapping away on your phone.

A few minutes passed before you returned, seeing Bokuto sulking in the hospital bed, a familiar pout on his lips.

Your eyes softened as you gave him a smile. “Guess who just got two weeks off?”

– – – – –

The foundation of your relationship was built upon the fact that the two of you knew each other like no other; you loved each other like no other.

So how had everything culminated into such a mess?

“Bokuto.” You felt the way his body stiffened as you called his name.

“Yes,” he hesitated, “honey?”

“Do you remember what I told you a couple years ago? About what I thought of love?”

Feeling a prickling sensation in his nose, Bokuto squeezed his eyes shut, forcing out a few tears that had collected on his eyelashes.

His voice came out hoarse and weak as he whispered, “I could never forget.”

– – – – –

The sky was enveloped in a cloak of darkness, but not even the onslaught of exhaustion could prevent the two of you from leaning back on the picnic blanket to stare up at the shimmering stars.

“Baby?” Bokuto turned his head to where you lay beside him. You hummed in response, half of your attention taken by the stars.

“What do you think about love?”

You raised an eyebrow, rolling onto your side to fully look at your boyfriend.

The moonlight casted harsh shadows on his face, but the way he looked at you — eyes sparkling with curiosity and the corners of his lips curled into a light smile — softened the darkness surrounding the two of you.

“Where did that question come from?” You raised a hand to lightly trace over the curves and slopes of his face; your thumb caressed his cheek as he leaned into your touch.

“Answer my question first, and then I’ll tell you.” His eyes turned into little crescent moons as he smiled at you. “Deal?”

You pretended to think about it for a few seconds. “Hm, three kisses please,” you said, wiggling three of your fingers.

Bokuto laughed, indulging you with a kiss to both of your cheeks and a final kiss to your lips.

“Okay, okay,” you giggled. “You asked me what I think about love?”

He nodded.

“Well,” you sighed, turning back to face the midnight sky above you, “I think that love is like the sky — the sun, to be specific. It’s always changing, and everything is so unpredictable about it. There’s so much potential for destruction in what the sky holds. But, there’s always one constant. Do you know what it is, Kou?” You looked at him.

“What is it, angel?” His golden eyes glimmered, as if they were holding stars themselves.

Adjusting your position on the picnic blanket (you curled closer into Bokuto, who wrapped an arm around your shoulders), you continued, “It’s the sun. No matter how much it rains or snows or whatever weather catastrophe is happening, the sun is always going to be there. Sure, you can have multiple suns like those Star Wars planets, but…” you trailed off, looking into his eyes. “... I think I’m happy with my one sunshine.”

Bokuto, ever the romantic, pulled you into a nearly-bone-crushing hug as he laughed into your shoulder. After peppering kisses to your neck and jaw, he pulled away to look at you. He sported the brightest smile, but something sparkled behind those eyes of his.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re getting cheesier than me.”

You groaned, leaning away from him, “Shut up, Kou!”

He giggled before placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Now let’s get home before these mosquitoes eat us alive, honey.”

“And then you’ll tell me where you got that question from?”

“Of course, honey! I never break a deal!”

– – – – –

How could he forget what you said? Every word you’ve ever spoken to him, he’s grasped onto like a lifeline, as if they would be your last. He was so close to bursting — so close to pulling himself off of your lap, looking into your pretty eyes, grasping your shoulders, and yelling at you, screaming at you, asking why you would think he could ever forget anything about you. How dare you think he could ever forget anything about you?

But he couldn’t do that. Not to you. Not anymore.

He didn’t realise that you’d gone silent — his world had gone silent — until your sniffles broke his reverie. His arms tightened around your waist as his head nuzzled into your stomach once again; it was a broken act of comfort.

“Honey,” the edges of his voice cracked as he called out for you. “Talk to me. Please. Don’t… don’t stay quiet.”

Being met with another bout of silence was almost excruciating. Bokuto was struggling to keep himself together, to keep his head above the water before he drowned in his thoughts of losing you.

He launched himself up from your lap, grabbing your face with shaky hands. He had tears running down his face once again. His face was blotchy, and his hair was a mess. He was a mess.

“Please, lovey,” he whispered. If you stayed silent just one minute longer, he’d collapse. He was sure of it. Fighting the urge to just sit himself in your lap, pull you tight against him, and beg you not to leave, Bokuto settled with caressing the skin under your shirt.

Finally, you broke the silence.

“I forgot to tell you one thing that night.” You moved your hand from where it was resting in his hair back to your side; he tensed at the loss of your touch.

He swallowed, his anxiety began to pile up once again. “What’d you forget, baby?”

“Even though the sun” — your voice cracked — “is a constant, sometimes it can be too much. Burn too bright and dry up everything underneath the sky. Sometimes...” you paused to take a deep breath, trying to swallow back the lump that was growing in your throat. “Sometimes the sun can do even worse harm than anything the sky could do.”

Bokuto could feel the gradual increase of his heartbeat. He shook his head, his fingers involuntarily digging into your skin. No, no, you didn’t mean that. You couldn’t mean that. If you did he… he didn’t know what he would do.

“I’m sorry, Bokuto,” you murmured, “I can’t stay here any longer.”

You tried to pry yourself out of his grip, but he wouldn’t relent. His arms were shaking as he pulled you even closer into him. He was whispering something to himself.

“Bokuto, I’m being serious.” You tried to keep your voice stable but failed miserably — it all came out shaky, your tone uneven. “Let me go.”

His whispers grew louder until you could finally understand what he was saying.

“No, no. This isn’t real. I love you. I love you. No, don’t leave. Please don’t leave. I love you.”

You called his name. Once, twice, thrice. As you called for him, his whispers grew to full-blown cries.

“Bokuto!”

“I’M SORRY DON’T LEAVE ME!”

But the only thing your eyes chose to focus on was the trail of red and purple leading down his neck.

You felt a prickling sensation behind your eyes, a feeling that had grown familiar to you in the past few hours.

Bokuto caught the wandering of your eyes down his neck, a faraway mist muddled the irises he loved gazing into; he realised what you were staring at, forcing down a choked sob. He clenched his jaw, violently cursing himself for making you feel like you weren’t enough, like you weren’t the one keeping him standing straight.

Like you weren’t his sun, moon, stars, and whatever else you filled the fucking sky with.

He gently moved your head, trying to get you to look back into his eyes and away from the bruised mistake that marred his skin. His thoughts only filled with one thing — “Come back to me, baby.”

Waves of relief crashed against him once you met his eyes.

“Baby– Angel– I’m so– I don’t– Please–” Bokuto struggled to keep his thoughts straight. Not when you stared at him with an iciness that pierced his heart every time he looked back into your eyes, hoping to find even the smallest trace of love left for him.

He let out a rough sigh, frustrated with his inability to speak through the racing of his heart. His hands, still cupping your face, lightly squeezed your cheeks to ground himself. He looked back to you, his eyes swimming with even more tears, trying to send a message to you that he couldn’t put into words.

You looked away from him, focusing on the ticking clock on the wall as you gnawed your lip. A question had been running through your mind ever since he cracked into your resolve to leave and pulled you to the sofa, laying his head in your lap.

Your eyes turned back to him.

“Can you tell me something, Bokuto?”

“Yes, yes, baby, of course. I’ll do anything you want.” He eagerly nodded, a small spark of hope sparkled within him.

“Why’d you lie?”

He felt as though you just dumped him into one of Atsumu’s god-awful ice baths.

“What’re you saying, angel?” His eyebrows furrowed. “I’ve never lied to you.”

“Earlier,” you croaked. “I asked you earlier how long you’ve been” — you couldn’t say that word; it’d hurt too much — “messing around.”

A glint of recognition passed his eyes.

Continuing, you forced your voice out, even though it grew weaker the more you tried to hide your pain, “You said that it was just this once. That wasn’t the whole truth, was it?”

Fuck. Bokuto took his hands away from your face, opting to grasp one of your hands in his. He gave your knuckles a kiss before looking back at you, his eyes teeming with unadulterated guilt and desperation.

��I-I knew them before this ever happened. We met at one of the team parties, but you weren’t there because you were at work.” He saw a glimpse of darkness shadow over your face, and his heartbeat picked up again (not that it ever really settled). “But we never did anything! Not until last night, at least.” His voice grew quiet at the end.

“And never once did it occur to you to tell them that you were taken?”

Bokuto’s lips started trembling — no doubt he’d begin crying again. He looked down, trying to avoid your glare, but his grip on your hand never loosened.

“Please, baby. I’m so sorry,” he choked out, “I’m so fucking sorry. I fucked up in the worst way possible. But I promise you, I never did anything with them before. We just talked at that one party. I promise you that. I promise, honey.”

The look in your eyes became even colder, even more distant; something akin to hatred was present as well. No, this couldn’t be happening. His worst nightmare was coming true. You’d finally learned the truth and were going to leave him. You might have called him your sunshine that one night two years ago, but, to him, you were his oxygen — without you, he was truly nothing. Just a corpse of a man, not worth wasting a breath on.

He was losing you. Again.

“I’m leaving, Bokuto.” You roughly pulled your hand from his grasp, ignoring his cries for you to please stop, to listen for just a minute longer. “Don’t you dare try to look for me.”

Bokuto whimpered, following you to where you were trying to pick up your bags in your haste of anger. Once again, he tugged at the straps, trying to steal them away from you, but his arms grew weak at the scowl pointed his way.

His breath quickened, and his heart raced. He was panicking, grasping at straws to have to rethink your choice and stay with him so he could apologise for the rest of both of your lives. He’d spend the remainder of eternity begging for your forgiveness if only you’d just stay with him.

But he couldn’t say a word. Not with his blinded panic, and definitely not with the terrible, agonising look you were giving him as you stared back at him.

Was this how you felt when he’d walked out on you last night? Hopeless. Defenseless. As if you weren’t even worth a grain of sand underneath the other’s shoe.

“Lovey, I’m sorry!” Bokuto cried out one more time, hoping that he’d reach out to whatever small piece of love you still held for him. “I said I’m sorry! Please just forgive me, don’t leave me. Please! I’m begging you! Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it a million times over. Just, please,” he quieted to a whisper, just barely reaching your ears, “stay with me, and we can get through this together.”

His face crumpled as he heard your responding scoff.

“There’s no more ‘together’ for us, Bokuto.”

Your words stung — well, they stung as much as a gunshot or a knife to the heart would sting. He pressed on, desperate to get you to hear him out.

“I’m your sunshine, right? Your dovey. Your babe. Your pretty boy. Your Koutarou. Right?” He gripped onto the hem of his shirt, balling his hands into fists. “No matter what you call me, I’m yours. And I always will be. Even if you leave me right now, I’ll never stop looking for you. You know why?”

You stayed silent.

“Because I am just as much your sun as you are mine.”

His words echoed in your mind — that twisted, gnawing feeling came back in your gut. You knew that if you stayed for one more minute, it’d be over for you, and you’d go running back into his arms that always held you so tightly. Into his arms that smelt like home. Into his arms that made you feel like you were on top of the world as long as he was by your side. Into his arms that held onto another once the two of you reached a rough patch.

You made your decision.

“Koutarou…” His head snapped up to look at you, his eyes wide and glittering with a false sense of hope. “I’m sorry. I have to leave.”

There was another feeling growing within Bokuto. It was ugly, festering in the deepest parts of his mind — coming from a place that refused to acknowledge his faults. This feeling, it blamed

you. Why would you hurt him like this? How could you hurt him like this? You said he was your sunshine, your dovey, your Koutarou! How cruel could you be to lead him on, calling him ‘Koutarou’ again? You said you loved him!

“Don’t leave me!” He raised his voice. This feeling was taking over him, and it was angry. “If you leave, I’ll-I’ll…” His voice trailed off as he tried to regain control of himself.

Your brows furrowed. He still had the energy to yell, huh?

“You’ll what?” You took a step toward him. He looked away from you, trying to avoid your burning gaze. “Tell me, Koutarou. What will you do if I leave?”

He shook his head; you knew what that meant — “I won’t say it.”

“You’ll go back to them, won’t you?” you scoffed. “Have fun, Koutarou.”

Adjusting the straps of your bags, you gave him one last glare before moving toward the door once more.

That feeling came back in Bokuto’s mind, and it was stronger than ever. Pounding against the walls he built up, it roared, telling him to make you regret hurting him, make you think twice about leaving him. Bokuto was panicking, his will to beg you to stay was growing weaker as the feeling inside him became increasingly angry at you for causing him so much pain.

He knew he’d regret the next words he’d say to you, but that realisation came a second too late.

“I’ll never forgive you!”

You froze. Turning back around to face him, your eyes narrowed. “What?”

“If you leave me, I’ll never forgive you!”

His eyes were burning into you, a raging fire behind them.

“You’ll never forgive me?” you spat.

As quickly as the fire grew, it was extinguished as Bokuto’s expression morphed into one of shock.

“Wait, baby, I didn’t mean it! I promi–”

Dropping your bags by the door, you strided toward his figure. Pushing him against the wall, you pulled him in by the collar, melding his lips with yours.

The kiss was rough, angry, desperate — an amalgamation of everything you’ve felt in the past few hours going back and forth with Bokuto.

You pushed yourself into the space between his legs as he finally recovered from his shock and tried to match your tempo, his hands pulling you close into his body. Your teeth clashed together, and you had half the mind to bite his tongue in your mouth, but you held back.

Raking your fingers through his hair, you pulled his head back, ignoring his small, pained whine. The offensive mess of red and purple blotches still covered the expanse of his neck. A scowl grew on your face.

Bokuto yelped as he felt your lips latch onto his neck, sucking your own bruises over the ones already existing from his escapade. You were rough, unrelenting in your nearly-primal way of claiming him.

Trying to ignore your satisfaction from hearing his whimpers of your name, you pulled away, looking at your series of marks covering the ones from his other lover. The two of you were left panting — him trying to meet your eyes and you trying to avoid looking at him at all costs.

Leaning into his ear, you placed a gentle bite on his lobe. He tensed ever-so-slightly.

“You’ll never forgive me if I leave?” you hummed.

His hands that were under your shirt, roaming across your back, froze.

“B-Baby, wait, I didn’t–” He tried to plead with you until your next words completely shattered what was left of his broken, battered heart.

“I think I can live with that.”

You quickly backed away from him, evading his attempts to grab at your waist to stop you from leaving, and picked up your bags by the door. Looking back at him one last time, you nearly broke your facade.

After all he’s done, you still loved your Koutarou — no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise — and seeing him on his knees, sobbing, begging you not to leave for the umpteenth time, your will was wearing thin.

“Goodbye, Koutarou.”

The slam of the front door echoed across the remnants of his shattered heart and all he had the strength to do was cry. Pulling at the strands of his hair, he sobbed, begging into the air, weeping with no one to listen to him.

Without you, his world had no sky; everything was bathed in the shadow of your absence.

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tags: @katelyns-stuff @random-fandom-girl-24

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto x reader #tw: cheating #tw: swearing #gn!reader

804 notes · View notes

serendipitous-magic · 3 years

Note

What is your writing advice for young people who want to write fanfiction and original stories in the near future?

If this is just Way Too Much, skip to the end (#16). My most important piece of advice is there. I also happen to think #5 is pretty good.

-_-_-_-

1) Literally just write. Write whatever you want, and do a lot of it.

_-_

2) You don’t have to post everything. In fact you don’t have to post anything. You can, don’t get me wrong, but it can be intimidating to sit down and think “I will now write something that other people will see and read and judge with their eyeballs.” Because that’s probably gonna lead to nerves and writer's block. Just write down the ideas that you have, the things you want to write, whatever’s in your brain that you want to explore and expand upon and make into something. And then if you want to, share it. Or don’t share it. I have plenty of half-baked ideas and documents and random story chapters and shit hidden away on my Google Drive that will never see the light of day, for a whole number of reasons. I wanted to write it but it wasn’t ~Spicy~ enough to warrant posting, or it’s only like an eighth of a good idea, or it’s like one scene with no story around it, or it’s just something incredibly self-indulgent I just wanted to write for my own enjoyment.

Point being, don’t write for other people. Don’t write so that other people can read it; write what you want, write for yourself, and then if you want to share it, do.

_-_

3) You can pretty much ignore any and all of these for fanfiction. In fact, you can ignore pretty much any rules or guidelines you want for fanfiction. Fanfic is a sandbox. You don’t have to be a “professional writer” to post fic. No one expects you to be Stephen King or Margaret Atwood. Fanfic is just for playing in a fandom and having fun. If you wanna write a 50 chapter slow burn with very little plot aside from the OTP slowly getting to know each other, and no real stakes or central conflict, I guarantee people would read that. Really, fanfiction is the Old West of writing: lawless, wild, unpredictable, and free.

However, here are the rules you must follow:

-Separate your paragraphs. (I’m sure you know this already, but I’m gonna say it anyway just in case.) Do not post one big block of text. Make a paragraph break when someone new is talking, when the characters are in a new place, when a new event occurs that changes the scene, when a chunk of time has passed, and when there’s a major change in subject.

-I know it’s obvious, but... grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. They exist to make writing easy for readers to read, and more people will read your stuff if they don’t have to stop and try to figure out what you meant.

-Use tags and labels, as is possible with whatever site you’re using. Especially if you include possibly triggering content in your story. Again, I know it’s obvious, but it’s common courtesy. Bonus: tagging the themes and content of your story helps readers find it and read it :)

-If possible, limit the use of all-caps and exclamation marks / question marks. 99% of the time, one ! or one ? will do. If you overload the page with a lot of all-caps and long rows of exclamation marks or question marks, it hampers readability.

... That’s literally all I can think of. And, like I said, it’s all pretty basic stuff. You were probably rolling your eyes like, “Uh, yeah, Gwen, I know.” But that’s literally it. You can pretty much do whatever you want in fanfic.

That being said, here’s my advice for both fanfiction and original work...

_-_

4) A quick and dirty rule for coming up with a plot, starting a story, keeping up pacing, or maintaining tension: figure out what dreams, desires, and goals are nearest and dearest to your main character’s heart (see #16). Then set up the main conflict to be directly in opposition to that goal. It doesn’t have to be in a tangible way, though it could be. But, if your main character wants more than anything to reach the ships on the southern coast of your world and sail to a new life, make sure the main conflict immediately prevents them from doing that - in fact, make sure to send them north. If your main character just wants to keep their loved ones safe, kidnap the loved ones. If your main character just wants to date their best-friend-turned-crush, make sure they think they have no chance - or, make them cocky about it, and make sure it makes Person B determined not to ever like them. You get it. Figure out what your character most wants, and then keep them from having that. Boom - your conflict now ties in with your character's motivation. It's like instant yeast for plots.

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5) If you’re anything like me, you want your first draft to be Good, despite all that advice about how the first draft doesn’t have to be good and it’s just to get words on the page, yadda yadda. And if you’re somewhat of a perfectionist (like myself), it’s easy to get stuck looking at a blank page because you don’t have The Perfect Words, and you want what you write to be Good the first time.

Here’s how I cheat that:

Instead of trying to write a Good First Draft from a blank page, hit the enter key a few times, skip a little down on the page, change your ink to red (or blue, or whatever - just something immediately identifiable as Not Black) and just thought vomit. Write whatever the hell you’re thinking, exactly as you think it. Don’t worry about it being readable, don’t worry about narrative flow for now, don’t worry about covering all the details, don’t worry about anything except either a) getting all the details of your idea out onto the page, whether that’s a lot or whether it’s just a sentence or two, or b) if you don’t have an idea yet, finding your way there.

Because this method is also very good for finding your way to ideas when you’re stuck in writer’s block.

Because of how human brains work, getting this stuff out onto the page - in all its messy, stream-of-consciousness glory - will likely spark more thoughts. As you write your original idea about the scene, it’ll likely spark more ideas. Creation begets creation. If you just start thought-vomiting your ideas onto the page, chances are you’ll think of more things as you go, and you’ll start filling out description or dialogue or tone or action or whatever, and pretty soon the scene starts writing itself.

Not sure where you’re going with the scene or which ideas you wanna use? Use a lot of ambivalent language in your “thought-vomit draft.” My pre-writing notes are chock-full of the words “maybe,” “perhaps,” and the phrases, “At some point...” and “...or something like that.” In this way, I don’t tie myself down to one idea; it’s just an idea, and I’m keeping it on the page in case I use it, but I might chuck it in the trash or change it or whatever.

And then, once your ideas for the scene (or story, or chapter, or whatever) are on the page, then go back to the top and start translating them into a “real” first draft. Use black ink, and start copy-pasting chunks of the thought-vomit up into the top part of the document and translating them into Draft 1. Separate out paragraphs where paragraph breaks should be. Add the correct punctuation and whatnot. Change “describe the lobby here - include potted plants, fancy carpet, blood stain, etc.” into an actual description of the lobby. Flesh it out, or condense, or whatever it needs. And if you’re still stuck, change back to red ink and ramble some more until you find a path that feels right, then plug that in. This keeps you from looking at a blank page, and it allows you to generate a kind of Draft 0.5, somewhere between a plan and a first draft.

You don’t have to use every idea. Like I said, jot down whatever comes to mind, put a “maybe” before or after it, and keep working. If the idea grabs you and you wanna keep expanding on it and exploring it, cool. If you just wanna jot it down so you don’t forget it and then move on, also cool. Red-ink draft / “thought-vomit draft” is your time to jump around in the timeline, add or finesse details at whatever point your brain moves to, etc. Don’t try to do it exactly in story order, because you will get tangential thoughts and ideas, and you will not remember to write them down five pages later when you finally get to taking notes on that scene. Trust me. On that note...

_-_

6) Write everything down the moment you think of it. Seriously.

“I’ll remember it when I get around to writing that scene in a couple days / weeks / months (/years).”

You won’t.

Write it down.

Phone, journal, google docs - hell, my family regularly laughs at me for grabbing a napkin during dinner and scribbling thoughts down alongside pasta sauce stains.

And then, once you have it written down somewhere...

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7) Consolidate your writing ideas in one place.

Maybe this isn’t really your style, and that’s totally chill.

Buuuut, if you’re Type-A like me - or if you tend to be somewhat unorganized and you know you’ll lose track of your writing notes if they’re scattered across multiple notebooks, journals, napkins, phone notes, etc. - having one consolidated document of notes is a life saver. I keep mine on Google Docs so I can access it, add to it, and look through it for inspiration anywhere at any time. When I have one of those Shower Thoughts that I jot down on my phone or on a napkin during dinner, I set myself a reminder on my phone to type it up in my Story Ideas document later.

(Or, if the idea I had was for a story of mine that I’ve already started planning / drafting / whatever, I put it in the document for that story instead of the Big Random Story Ideas doc. You get it.)

_-_

8) Have other ways to collect and save writing ideas, besides just writing stuff down. If you like Pinterest, make pinterest boards of your characters or stories or settings or whatever. If you’re big into playlists, make a playlist for your character / setting / story / etc. Or both. Or something else. I’m not good at drawing, but maybe you are, and maybe you like to draw your ideas. Whatever form it takes, having another way to save ideas and think about your stories is invaluable.

_-_

9) Some writers can just start writing with no idea where the story is going, and they just kind of figure it out as they go. I envy those writers. And I do that sometimes for fanfiction, where the stakes are somewhat lower and the audience is reading more for scene-to-scene enjoyment (and to see their OTP kiss) than for a Driving And Compelling Narrative.

But here’s the thing: especially if you’re just kind of starting out, writing without some sort of plan is really, really hard, and will likely lead you into a slow, meandering narrative that will likely frustrate you.

Even if you think you’re someone that just can’t write with a plan (and again, I have the highest respect for pansters out there - I don’t know how you do it, you crazy bastards, but you keep doing you) - even if you think “I can’t work with plans, they’re too prescriptive, I just want to write and see what happens -”

Try at least making the most skeletal of plans.

Even if you have no clue what 90% of the story is, yet. That’s fine. But you need to have some idea of what you’re building to, even if that’s nothing more specific than a feeling, or a turning point for your character. Even if your entire plan for everything beyond Chapter 1 is, “At some point, Charlie needs to realize that Ed was lying to her.”

This is where those Draft 0.5 notes come in handy. Because, more than likely, working on your current scene that way will spark ideas for later scenes, which you can put down at the bottom of the document and save for when they become relevant. In my experience, the line between planning ahead and making a Draft 0.5 is exceptionally thin. One can quickly turn into the other.

If you’re really, really resistant to the idea of planning ahead, that’s okay. It’s not everybody’s style. But for the love of all that is holy, write down your ideas for future scenes, even if you’re a person that doesn’t like to plan and writes only in story order, because you will not remember that idea once you get to that scene.

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10) You don’t have to write in order.

Here’s the thing: I’m a person that can only do my Draft 1 in story order (meaning, chronological order). I just have to be in that flow; I need to write in story order for me to best channel where the character is at from scene to scene, both narratively and emotionally.

But my Thought Vomit Draft is another thing entirely. By using the brain hack of putting my notes in red (or another color, it doesn’t matter) and going down to the bottom of the document / page and taking notes there, and then integrating them into whatever plan I have, and then translating them into Draft 1 once I get there in the story - by doing that, I can get my good ideas onto the page (and expound upon them and let my muse carry me and ride that momentum while I’m in the moment of inspiration) without writing out of order.

Maybe that’s just me. But if you’re a person who really prefers to write in story order, that could be hugely helpful to you. It is to me.

_-_

11) Emotion and motivation will do more for your story than technicalities of plot.

If your characters really care about something, and their journey through the (shaky or weak) plot is emotionally engaging, it will be a much more compelling story than a story with a “perfect” plot and unrelatable or unmotivated characters.

If your characters care about what they’re doing, and it means something to them, and their goals and actions are driven by dreams or fears or emotions that are integral to who they are, your audience will care too. If you have a perfectly crafted plot that hits all the right beats and has high stakes and fast pacing and drama - but your characters don’t connect with what’s happening in a way that’s deeply meaningful or emotional for them? You’re gonna have a hard time engaging readers.

When in doubt, prioritize character emotion and motivation over plot. Emotion is what drives story.

This power is highly exploitable. (Just look at pulp novels and shitty but entertaining movies.) You can even use it to glaze over plot holes or reinvigorate a limp narrative. Use it that way sparingly, though. It’s a band-aid, not a surgery.

_-_

12) Evil villains are hard to write - mostly because there are very few truly evil people in the world. (There are a few. Billionaires and several big name politicians come to mind.) But by and large, there aren’t that many evil people. There are plenty of bad people, but bad people have some good in them, somewhere in there. Trying to write an evil villain is hard, because they often turn very cartoony.

Here’s a tip: it’s much easier to write antagonists who aren’t evil. Even if they’re bad people. Of course, there’s no reason you can’t write a villain that’s just truly evil - a serial killer, or an abuser, or a billionaire, or someone who legit just wants to hurt people or blow up the earth or stay in control of an oppressed population, or whatever. But chances are, it’s gonna be really hard to make them feel real, and even harder to create a plot around them that doesn’t feel forced or contrived.

Instead, try writing an antagonist / villain whose motivations and goals directly clash with your protagonist’s - but not because they want to take over the world or see people suffer. Write an antagonist who’s chaotic good, but whose perception of the situation is completely opposite from your hero’s. Write an antagonist whose only desire is to save people, and who will do anything to achieve that goal - anything. Write an antagonist who believes in the letter of the law, and will hinder and oppose the hero’s methods even if they agree with the hero’s motivation. Write an antagonist who got in way over their head and did some things they regret, and now they don’t know how to get out, and they’re doing their best but whatever they set in motion is too powerful for them to stop now.

Write villains who are human. Write a killer who thought they were doing the right thing by taking their victim out of the equation, who vomits at the sight of the body and sobs over the grave they dig. Write a government leader who truly believes she’s doing what’s best for her people in the long-term, even if it might hurt them in the short term, and is willing to endure the hatred and belligerence of the masses if it means securing what she thinks is a better future for her people. Write a teenage bully that thinks they’re the one being picked on by the world, and they’re just fighting back, standing their ground. Write a scientist who will break any code of ethics and hurt anyone he needs to - in order to bring back his baby sister from the grave, because he promised her he’d protect her and he failed. Write an antagonist who is selfish and self-centered and capricious - because in order to survive they had to look out for Number One, and that habit ain’t about to break anytime soon.

Write villains who aren’t even villains. Write antagonists who oppose the hero because of moral differences. Write antagonists who are trying to do the right thing. Write antagonists who treat the heroes with kindness and dignity and respect and gentleness.

They don’t have to be good. They don’t have to be Misunderstood Sweethearts who “deserve” a redemption arc. They can be cruel and nasty and dismissive and callous and violent and etc. etc.

Just hesitate before you make them Evil-with-a-capital-E. Because evil is hard to write, and honestly, boring to read. Flawed human beings with goals and motivations that directly oppose the main characters’ are much easier to write and much more interesting to read.

Ask why. Why is your villain trying to take over the world? What does that even mean? Are they trying to create a Star-Trek-like post-capitalism utopia, but they know that won’t happen in a million lifetimes, so they’re trying to do it by force? Are they actually super in favor of human rights, but they got very impatient waiting for the world to do anything about poverty and war, so they decided to take it into their own hands? Are they determined to fix the world - no matter the cost? Are they terrified and overwhelmed, but committed to see it through to the end? Or - maybe they’re just doing it on a dare. Maybe they don’t really give a shit about world domination, they were just a mediocre rich white guy who decided to fuck around and find out, and now he’s kind of curious how far he can take this thing. And now he’s kind of an internationally-wanted criminal, so he’s kind of stuck living on his hidden private island in his multi-billion dollar secret base, strapping lasers to sharks’ heads for the hell of it. Gross, selfish, uncaring, and dangerous? For sure. Evil? Depends on your definition. See, now we’re getting somewhere.

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13) It’s tempting to let the plot control the characters. It’s easy to drop your characters into a situation and see how they react. But here’s the thing: that doesn’t drive plot. In fact, it bogs down pacing. Instead, try to build you plot off of your characters’ actions and decisions. Let your character build their own situation. Not to say it should go they way they wanted it to go; in fact, usually, their grand plans should go to hell very quickly. But having the characters take action and make decisions, and letting the plot develop based on that, is much easier to make compelling than making a rigid series of events and then trying to herd your characters into them.

_-_

14) Having trouble justifying a character’s actions? Consider having them make the opposite decision, or having them approach the situation in a different way. For example: you need your character to go meet the bad guy, for plot reasons, even though there’s no way it’s not a trap. If the character goes, readers are gonna be groaning with their head in their hands, because c’mon man, that was really fucking stupid. But he’s gotta go, because the plot needs that. Two ways you might handle this: a) He knows it’s probably a trap. He decides not to go. The plot conspires to get him near the villain anyway. Or, b) He knows it’s a trap. But he needs to go, for (insert reasons here). So, he approaches it in an unexpected way. He brings backup, recruiting a side character we met earlier in the story. Or he arrives on the back of a dragon, because ain’t nobody gonna fuck with a dude on a dragon. Or he goes - early, and ambushes the villain. It may work, it may not. He may get himself kidnapped anyway. But it moves the plot along without having Stupid Hero Syndrome.

_-_

15) This is a legit piece of advice: if all of this sounds overwhelming, literally just ignore it and write what you want. For real. Writing should be fun, and every single writer operates differently. If you’re sitting here like “I’m getting stressed just reading this,” just flip me a good-natured bird and get on with your life. I promise I won’t take it personally. Same goes for literally any other writing advice you see. Lots of rules and guidelines can very quickly make anything thoroughly un-fun. Just write. If you’re passionate about it and you do it for long enough, you’ll start figuring out the tips and tricks on your own.

_-_

16) Here’s the best piece of advice I can give you: know your characters. More importantly, know what’s important to them. Build their personality and decisions off of that, and build your plot off of their decisions.

I see a lot of character building sheets that ask a shit-ton of questions like “What’s their most prized possession?” “Do they like their family?” “What’s their favorite food?”

And while these are good questions, my problem with this type of character building is that if you start there, with the little stuff, you’re building on nothing. IMO, to make a truly strong character (not strong like Inner Strength, strong like effective), you need a strong foundation.

Here are the things you must know about your character:

a) What are their greatest fears / deepest insecurities? And I don’t mean “wasps” or “heights.” I mean the deep shit. I mean fears like “living a meaningless life,” or “turning out just like their parents,” or “that no one will ever love them,” or “being powerless.” You may say, “But they’re really scared of wasps! They fall into a wasp nest when they were little and got stung so much they almost died!” Great! That’s a fantastic bit of backstory. They should absolutely be afraid of wasps, and that should absolutely be an impediment later in the story. But dig deeper. What about that event actually scarred them? Was it the helplessness? Stumbling around, swatting at the air, not being able to do a single thing to stop what was happening to them? Was it that they were alone, and no matter how loud they screamed, no one was coming? Was it the bodily horror of feeling themself turn into an inhuman creature as they swelled up from the stings, unable to move their fingers or face normally anymore?

And don’t forget insecurities, because those factor in, too. Are they deeply insecure about their identity? Do they believe, deep down, that they’re ugly? Did they grow up poor and they’ve always been really touchy about that? Why? Dig deep. Figure out what really, really bothers them.

b) What are their hopes and dreams? What do they truly want out of life? What do they consider the most valuable to their experience here in this thing called life? Is it the freedom to forge their own path and be independent? Is it the approval of their family or peers? Is it a home? Is it knowledge, or understanding? Spiritual fulfillment? Is it deeply important to them that they contribute to their community, or protect those they love? What do they need in order to feel truly and deeply fulfilled in life?

Figure out those two things (each one encompasses several things, btw, you don’t have to stop at just one for each), and then use that to inform how they behave and the types of decisions they make within the story.

It also informs character behavior and personality.

Let’s say we have a character who’s afraid of helplessness. They’re probably gonna be the person that always wants to do something, try something, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. They’d despise just sitting and waiting, probably, because it makes them feel powerless. They might even be the person that makes rash decisions and acts impulsively and puts themself in danger unnecessarily, because in their mind it’s better than being at the mercy of fate. This is one way you could use a character’s personality to inform their decisions, which in turn helps to inform plot.

Or, let’s say we have a character whose greatest fear is being left behind or forgotten. We may have a chatterbox on our hands. They might be obnoxious. They might love the spotlight, constantly vying for attention no matter the situation, because deep down they’re so afraid that they’d be forgotten otherwise. Or, it may go the opposite way. They may be so afraid of people leaving them that they’re terrified of bothering people. They don’t want to do anything that could annoy people, anything that might give people a reason to leave them. They might be exceedingly polite, quiet, accommodating. A push-over, really.

These are two nearly opposite types of personalities, both stemming from the same core fear/insecurity. You can go a lot of different ways with it. But if you build on that strong foundation, you’ll have a strong character, and a stronger plot.

Likewise, the structure of your story can and should inform the design of these character traits. If you need your characters to team up near the end, it may be impactful if you give your main character a deep fear of commitment, an insecurity about being unwanted or left behind, and make them highly value independence and freedom. That could make their team-up for the final battle very meaningful. Conversely, you can use your character’s deepest fears and desires to help design the plot. Is your character deeply insecure about voicing their opinions or taking a stand, because of trauma they faced in the past? Make them face that. Build that into the climactic third act. Give them the big inspirational speech where they stand up and talk about what they believe to be important, what they think the group should do. And then design that character arc to run through the story, giving you more handholds and stepping stones, more pieces of foundation on which to design the plot.

In this way, character should inform story as much as story informs character. It’s a feedback loop.

Bonus: if you build your character and your plot off of each other in this way, it automatically starts to build in the foundations of that emotional investment I mentioned earlier. If your character’s decisions are based on what they most want and do not want in life, you basically have your character motivation and stakes pre-built.

Note: you need to know these things about your villain, too.

-_-_-

I’m genuinely sorry about the length of this, lmao. But you did ask.

Best of luck!

Edit: I forgot an important one:

17) Start when the scene starts and end when the scene ends.

What do I mean by that?

If your notes say “Danny asks Nicole out after school and majorly flubs it,” start the scene when Danny approaches Nicole after school. Better yet, cold-open the scene on “I was wondering if, you know, you’d wanna. You know. Hang out some time?”

Don’t start that morning when Danny goes to school, unless you’re gonna cover the school day in like one or two sentences. Don’t spend whole paragraphs going through the school day, unless it’s to cover other plot points first (in which case apply these same guidelines there), or if the paragraphs are there for a specific reason, like to illustrate how stressed he is and how it seems like every little thing is going wrong. Even then, trim the fat as much as possible. Expounding and describing everything Moment-to-moment is for the meat of the scenes, not the leading-up-to and coming-away-from.

Here’s my rule of thumb: study how and when movies cut from scene to scene. Movies have exceptionally strict, limited time for storytelling; they’re excellent examples of starting a scene when the plot point starts and ending when it’s over. If you can’t picture a movie showing everything you showed, start the scene later and end it earlier.

#asks #anon #writing advice #writing tips #writing #fanfic writing #fanfiction #character creation #plot development #character development #my advice #original writing

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pourcap · 2 years

Text

thoughts: pg chapter 14

(...) some kind of self-preservation had apparently prevented Damen from rolling inward during the night; from throwing his arm over Laurent’s torso and drawing them together to make the small tent seem larger than it was. it's crazy to me that laurent probably wouldn't even have gone violent over this, if it had happened

As a result, Damen was in possession of all his limbs, and even had his clothing restored to him. well, okay, damen doesn't seem to agree with my assessment above lol

jord is probably the least hateful person in all of the kingdoms <3

In the men’s eyes the feat was reflected as the wild, impossible thing it was—their Prince vanishing for two days, then appearing out of the night with a sackful of prisoners thrown over his shoulder, tossing them at the feet of his troop and saying: You wanted them? Here they are. honestly, laurent and damen both sound terrifying lol

'Thirty to one, at least,’ said Damen. love how he made sure to mention that hhh

Paschal snorted. Then he said, ‘It’s a good thing you’re doing, standing with him. Staying with him, when you have no love for this country. i really don't think i'll be able to handle laurent finding out who damen is :(

It would not be like this again. man, damen makes me so sad. i know he wants to be home more than anything, but it also feels kind of wistful, the way he thinks about these past few weeks. as usual, my heart aches for him

'Here,’ said Damen. ‘Let me.' damen recognizing how exhausted laurent is and immediately offering his help... i'm crying

'Stiff?’ said Damen, casually. "casually"... right

Laurent said, ‘The soldiers in Kastor’s army are trained in massage?' haha he's so lippy

'Too intimate?’ Damen said. Slowly, he was kneading Laurent’s shoulders. He did not usually think of himself as someone with suicidal impulses. Laurent did not relax at all, just stood unmoving. i love this <3 but also, damen does not think of himself as having suicidal impulses? "i speak your language better than you speak mine, sweetheart" was literally the first thing he said to laurent lol

i wish laurent could let himself be comfortable :( obv i know why he can't, but i feel so sorry for him every time he tries to hide all of his emotions/physical reactions/etc.

ohhh damen is such a softie

When Laurent turned to face him, his eyes were dark. His lips were parted uncertainly. He had lifted his hand to his own shoulder, as though chasing a ghost touch there. He did not look exactly relaxed, but the movement did look a little easier. As if realising that, Laurent said, almost awkwardly, ‘Thank you.' (...) oh god. i love him so much. i forget sometimes that he's... 19? 20? and he's been entirely on his own for so long, left alone with his trauma that he hasn't had the chance to work through because he's been preoccupied with trying to avoid being killed by his uncle... it's painful to think about why he is the way he is

'Your eyes say, “For now,”’ Laurent said. ‘Your eyes have always said, “For now.”' i don't know how to express how much i love this sentence

'I’d still be here,’ said Damen, ‘with you. I told you that I would see this border dispute through to its finish. Do you think I’d go back on my word?’ ‘No,’ said Laurent, almost as if he was realising it for the first time. (...) I LOVE THEM. i love their conversations so much. never a dull moment, so much angst, so much pain, but they match each other so well that there's always a bit of hope for a better future for both of them too <3

Damen found he’d moved without realising it, his fingers lifting to touch the bruised edge of Laurent’s jaw. He said, ‘The man who did this to you.' does damen ever think about what he wants to do before he does it???

'No. Wait. I . . . wait.' laurent is SO different around damen that sometimes i genuinely can't comprehend that this is the same laurent from book 1

'What Govart said about my brother and I . . . it wasn’t true.' auguste !!! (also, what an abrupt change of subject...? interesting. and, of course, fuck govart and the regent and anyone else who's ever burdened laurent with all of these stupid rumors. how fucking gross of his uncle, when it was him all along, to lie like this. plus, if he's using i*ncest/p*edophilia as a means to ruin laurent's repuation, then that means he knows what he's been doing to all of these boys is disgusting, so...???? i don't get it. he's the fucking worst and i want him to die.)

'I mean that whatever . . . whatever taint exists in my family, Auguste was free of it.' i am about to cry. these books are ruining me :(

(...) 'You remind me of him. He was the best man I have ever known. You deserve to know that, as you deserve at least a fair . . . In Arles, I treated you with malice and cruelty. I will not insult you by attempting to atone for deeds with words, but I would not treat you that way again. I was angry. Angry, that isn’t the word.’ It was bitten off; a jagged silence followed. WHAT. WHAT????? oh my god i AM crying lol

this is so fucking sad i feel so horrible for laurent

also, what a HUGE compliment????

incredible that all this time, laurent has been beginning to really appreciate damen and damen didn't even realize :((((

i had to put this book down for a moment lol

Laurent said steadily, ‘I have your oath that you will see this border skirmish through to its end? Then you have mine: stay with me until this thing is done, and I will take off the cuffs and the collar. I will release you willingly. We can face each other as free men. Whatever is to fall out between us can do so then.' i am SO sad. i don't want them to separate and i absolutely do not want them to fight each other :(

god. what a chapter.

#captiveprince #captive prince #capri #damen #lamen #damianos #damianos of akielos #laurent #laurent of vere #damen of akielos

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strawberrymilkgeorge · 3 years

Text

Part Ten. Faces

warnings: swearing, hate comments word count: 4.1k (not including pics)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: sorry its late!!!! this feels rushed but i was just too excited to get to some parts!!! also i have had some parts written out for SO long that they dont even feel cute to me anymore so im literally praying to every deity rn that you guys think its cute lmao anyway enjoy!!!!

**********

It had been about a week since Karl's slip up but everything was already more normal than Y/n had expected it to be. Of course, George, Sapnap and Quackity were all very understanding and gave her space while simultaneously reassuring her that she was safe with them. She fully believed it too, she knew she was safe with them and they weren't going to tell anyone her name.

The one unusual thing was now she had a heavy guilt, like someone dropped another sandbag in her stomach, every time Dream texted her. If the others knew, it was only fair that she tell him her name too, right? I mean, it's Dream. Dream! The boy who had quickly slipped his way into her life and, though she wouldn't admit it to Karl or Naomi, her heart.

But how? Does she just come right out and say it or wait until it gets brought up? She hadn't practiced telling anyone her name because she wasn't planning on doing it any time soon. Though, maybe she should have been seeing as she was going to see them all in person in a little over a month.

Regardless of the guilt, Y/n had other things to worry about today; Quackity was coming to visit. Karl had picked him up from the airport and the two of them spent all day catching up and doing who knows what but Y/n still hadn't met him. She was scared. She wasn't scared of Quackity, but scared because it was the first time one of her online friends would be able to put a face to her name and voice.

Y/n shuffled across her living room rug and reached for her phone on the coffee table, looking for some sort of distraction while she waited for them to arrive.

Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled, shaking her head as she threw her phone on the couch. Okay, he's right. It's gonna be fine. It's gonna be great. It's just Quackity. If he said anything rude or annoying or anything she could literally just step on him like a bug.

A sharp knock on the front door of her apartment snapped her back into reality. She shook her limbs of nervousness as she made her way to the door, two familiar voices begging to be acknowledged from the other side.

"Let us iiinnn!! Y/nnn!!!!" Karl whined.

After countless times asking the same question, she finally convinced Karl that she was okay with him using her real name in front of Quackity. He clearly still felt guilty about telling the boys her name, asking her multiple times in different ways whether he should call her Y/n or Bugsy in front of the guest. She finally got it through his head that she didn't mind either way.

"Hold on!" she yelled back. She unlocked the door and swung it open to see Karl and Quackity. "So impatient."

"Holy shit, you are tall! Goddammit, I thought that was a joke!"

Y/n laughed shyly at the greeting, looking at Quackity like he was crazy. "Hello to you too. Tried to warn you, dude."

"Yeah but, damn! You're tall and attractive, what the hell?"

"Dude," she said with a warning in her voice. She thought the flirting on Twitter was funny, but in real life she got embarrassed easier and wasn't a fan. "I'm about to kick you out of my house before I even let you in."

This was weird, meeting Quackity before meeting some of her other friends. She loved Quackity, but she had known George much longer and Sapnap even before that. There was no problem with meeting Quackity, she just had no idea how to act since she felt like she hardly knew him.

"Am I allowed to tell people that you're hot?" he asked as he fell on her couch, Karl following right after.

"Quackity!" Y/n yelled, her face heating up at a compliment. "Seriously?"

Karl cackled and shoved Quackity. "Shut up, Alex! No, you're not allowed!"

"Sorry, is that compliment reserved for Dream?" He cackled at his own joke and Y/n's face heated up even more.

"I seriously will kick you out of my house."

"You wanna be flirty on main but not in real life?" Quackity scoffed.

"I'm not flirty on main, you are!" she laughed. "Seriously, don't."

"Okay, sorry, I'll stop," Quackity promised with a laugh in his words.

The three of them fell into easy conversation, mostly because Karl and Quackity were already comfortable around each other at this point. They eventually decided to go to the mall, just to mess around and do something.

*reminder: covid doesn't exist in this fic bc we only want happy things so ignore their masks :P*

Y/n frowned as she unlocked her front door, staring at her phone. She had been so happy with all the fans freaking out about the meetup so she looked at the trending list, expecting to see a flood of keyboard smashes and happiness, but that's not all she ended up seeing. BUGKARLITY was trending, so she scrolled through the tweets and was upset to see not all of them were positive. In fact, when she typed her name in the search bar, lots of the tweets using her name were rather mean.

A few that stuck in her head called her an attention whore and said that her friends only flirted with her because she paid them too. Who on earth would even do that? Some hurt way more than others but she tried to push them aside. It wasn't like this was the first time she had seen comments like this, but they had only gotten worse since her Minecraft date with Dream. She was worried it was cause more hate for her friends and the last thing she wanted was to be the cause of their own hate.

She typed several different messages to Dream, deleting them all after she reread them. She felt like she had to request the same thing from him in a different way. Maybe because she felt like his words meant more, even if he really was just joking like the rest of them. She decided to call him instead of texting.

"Hi!" he chirped happily from the other end.

"Hi, Dream," she said as her chest filled with something warm at the sound of his voice. "How are you doing?"

"Good," he dragged out the word. "How are you?"

"Okay."

"Just okay? What's up?"

"Um," she started, immediately forgetting the words she decided she'd use. "I just... would you mind, uh, not flirting with me so much on, like, Twitter and streams and stuff like that?"

There was a silence before Dream's frantically apologetic words came through. "Yes, of course, oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. If I had known I was making you uncomfortable, I wouldn't have—"

"Wait, no," she interrupted but he must not have heard.

"—said things like... oh gosh. Bug, I'm really sorry—"

"Dream!" she raised her voice, getting him to stop ranting. "You don't make me uncomfortable."

"Oh. Really?"

"Of course not. I actually think it's really..." Cute? Adorable? Endearing? "funny," she decided.

"Oh. Then why...?"

She sighed heavily and explained what she told the others. "So, yeah. I just don't want you guys getting hate because of me so I figure if you stop then... you know."

"Bug..." he said gently. "I'm really sorry. I promise you that I don't—none of us think those things about you."

"I know."

"No, seriously," he said, clearly not believing her. "You need to understand that I..." he paused. "I mean what I say. Always."

Always? she thought. There's a few things he's said that certainly he didn't really mean... like calling her cute?

"I don't joke around like that unless I want to. I wouldn't say things like I say to you unless I really, really, genuinely considered you a close friend and felt comfortable around you. And I do."

Her heart swelled. "Thanks, Dream. I just... maybe don't do it so much for right now? Online, at least," she clarified, not wanting to deprive herself completely of Dream's flirting.

"Yeah, if that's what you want, of course."

"Well, I don't want you to stop flirting with me but, yeah."

He chuckled. "Oh, you do like when I flirt with you?"

She hummed and changed the subject. "Did I interrupt you doing anything?"

"No," his teasing voice dropped and was back to his regular self. "I'm just editing the video we filmed the other day."

"Oh, the 'Minecraft, but you can't touch the floor'?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh," she said, not meaning to sound disappointed. "I'll let you get back to it—"

"No. I mean, you can stay on the phone. Unless you're busy."

She smiled and put her phone on speaker and set it next to her foot on the floor. "I was just gonna paint. So I can stay."

Before she knew it, almost two hours had passed of them sitting in comfortable silence, occasionally speaking to share something with the other before going back to their tasks. It was comforting knowing she didn’t need to speak constantly and could just hang out with Dream.

Y/n's phone rested on the floor next to her, Dream on speakerphone on the other end, only the sounds of his keyboard clicking letting her know he hadn't fallen asleep or hung up. She wasn't sure when they started doing this, staying on the phone even when they had nothing to talk about, but they had done it a few times before. They had talked on the phone and Discord many times but it was usually always with purpose, not usually this silently-enjoying-each-others-presence nonsense. Who was she kidding calling it nonsense, she enjoyed it an embarrassingly insane amount.

She repositioned so she was laying on her stomach as she finished sketching an image that was in her mind.

"Hey, you still there?" Dream asked softly.

"Yeah. Sorry, am I taking away from your sitting in silence time with George?" she joked.

Dream chuckled lightly. "Nah, you're more fun. I was just seeing if you ditched me for Karl yet."

"Nah, you're more fun," she mimed truthfully. "But I'm very focused on this drawing."

"Can I see it when you're done?"

"Don't expect too much. It looks bad."

"If you don't tell me what it is, I can't know how accurate or inaccurate it is."

"Very true..." she trailed off, holding the canvas further away to examine it all at once. She wanted the sketch to be perfect before she made permanent choices with paint. She enjoyed the serenity they maintained even when talking, voices low and delicate like they were keeping secrets but not quite whispering. "Are you almost done editing your video from the other day?"

"Sorta. I'm at the part where you and Sapnap almost died laughing because a ghast knocked George into lava and then Sapnap laughed so hard he fell into lava."

She chuckled, remembering the situation vividly. "That was so funny. The way George screams is so funny."

"Let Naomi know that," he mumbled, causing Y/n to gasp.

"Dream!" she laughed loudly and he joined.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry. It's true though."

"Disgusting!"

A distant voice sounded on the other end and she assumed it was Sapnap. "What do you want for dinner?"

Dream responded with a soft, "Nothing, I'm good."

"Are you talking to Bugsy?"

He must have responded physically because the next sound was Sapnap's very clear, much more lively voice speaking directly into the phone. "Hi, Bugsy!"

"Hi, Sapnap!"

"Can you tell Dream to eat some damn food? This man literally hasn't eaten a single thing all goddamn day."

"Dream," Y/n scolded slowly. "Please eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"I'm not showing you my painting until you eat."

A door closed on the other end and she took that as a sign that Sapnap had left.

"I don't wanna see it anyway. It's probably trash."

"Take that back!" she gasped lightly. She looked at the canvas as she grabbed the first paint color and laughed. It was only a sketch and it was already trash. "Fine, then I won't go on the trip if you don't eat in the next ten minutes."

"That's punishing yourself too though."

"Who says I want to see you?" she asked.

"I never said anything about not seeing me being the punishment."

She had been caught. "It was implied."

"Sure it was."

"It's true though. Who says I wanna see your stupid face?"

He didn't say anything, but an incoming FaceTime call lit up Y/n's phone. A FaceTime call from him.

Her smile dropped. "Clay?"

"Answer it," his voice was lower and her heart started beating faster. Was he really about to show her his face to prove a point? Reveal his biggest secret that only a few close friends knew? To her of all people? She made sure she couldn't be seen in the small window and pressed accept, the voice call ending and the FaceTime call starting.

To her surprise, what came into view wasn't his face, but the logo of the hoodie he was wearing, the simple smile of his merch taunting her. She laughed, the anxiety slowly fading away as it was replaced with a heavy feeling in her stomach. Was she disappointed? Maybe a little, but he teased her into believing she would see him.

"Oh, wow! Dream face reveal! He looks just like his icon, no way!!!"

His chest moved up and down as he laughed, not moving the camera away. "You heard it here first, guys! You've known my face all along, the logo is actually my face!"

She laughed and returned to painting, not paying any more attention to her phone since he was now also showing his ceiling, a small corner of his monitor in frame but nothing else. "I mean it though, if you don't eat, I'm going to be so mad I won't even want to be friends anymore. Or you'll die from malnourishment before we get the chance to meet."

"I doubt it. I'm just not hungry."

"Whatever."

"Oh, hey, so you met Quackity today. How was it?"

"Very scary."

"Yeah?" he asked sympathetically, urging her to explain if she wanted.

"Yeah. But it turned out okay! He didn't act any different so it was fine. It was mostly just awkward. He's also so freaking loud. You would not believe how much louder he and Karl get when they're together."

"I can imagine. Aren't they doing a stream right now or something?"

"Yeah, I think so. I don't wanna watch though, I've had enough of them for the month."

Dream laughed. "How will you deal with them together for New Years'? It'll be for like two weeks."

"Who knows if I'll actually go?"

"Wait, what?" he asked abruptly, not even bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice. His keyboard stopped clicking and she could picture him staring at his phone as if looking at her. "Of course you're going."

"Not if you don't eat food! You have, like, 3 minutes to eat something until I officially am busy doing other things whenever the trip is."

Dream groaned and clicked a few things on his computer before the image on the screen became blurry as he walked through the house, still pointing it at the ceiling. She looked away again and kept painting.

"Quackity's really funny though," she continued. "It was super awkward at first but it was fun to have someone else to help me make fun of Karl."

"Wait, Bug," Dream called out over the sound of wrappers crinkling.

"Hm?" She hummed, continuing to paint.

"Bug," his voice was much softer and he sounded nervous.

She looked at her screen and dropped the paintbrush as she focused on what she saw, grabbing her phone and holding it closer to her face so she could see, still making sure she wasn't in view. All the anxiety from the beginning of the FaceTime suddenly came back and hit her like a truck. Sitting on her screen, waiting to be seen, was Dream. His hood was up, tufts of blonde hair sticking out, and he was standing with his back towards a dark room, the dim light from his pantry making his face just visible.

He held up a cookie in front of his actual, real face. "Are you watching?"

"Y-yea... I... Yeah. I'm watching. Is that really you?"

He nodded once before shoving the cookie in his mouth. "There, I consumed food," he announced, his voice muffled by the cookie. "Now you're legally obligated to come."

"I—What? CLAY! WHAT?"

"What?" he asked innocently as he chewed, walking back to his room and still holding the phone up to show his face. His room light was on, making his face much more visible. If Y/n thought he was attractive in the harsh pantry light, he must have looked like a god in his room lighting, even as pixelated as he was due to the quality of FaceTime. He fell on his bed and Y/n could only gape at his features. He slumped against his headboard, surrounded by roughly a thousand pillows, sporting a small, shy smile as he stared at the screen. "Bug, what?"

She opened her mouth but no words came out. Needless to say, he was unbelievably handsome. Part of the speechlessness was from the shock that he showed his face out of the blue, but obviously, the majority of it was that he was pretty much the most attractive person she'd ever seen. It should be illegal for someone to look that good in a hoodie, especially when pixelated.

"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "Wanna take back what you said earlier?" He bit into another cookie.

"W-what did I say earlier?" Why was she stuttering???

"You said you don't wanna see me and that I'm ugly," he teased.

She paused for too many seconds too long before finally muttering, "you arrogant son of a bitch." He laughed loudly at that.

His eyes crinkled and he threw his head back. So that's what he looks like when he wheezes, she thought to herself, pretty.

Dream shuffled his position on his bed and rested his head on one of his hands. He looked so comfy. "Why are you so quiet, weirdo?" he mumbled.

She set her phone back down and touched her cheeks with her hands and looked away for a moment, grounding herself to the real world for a second. She couldn't process her thoughts when she was staring at a man as gorgeous as Clay. "I don't know, maybe because you gave me no warning before showing me your face? Or because you failed to mention that you're incredibly hot?"

She was so glad she had looked back at her phone or else she would have missed the glorious sight of his cheeks turning bright red before he turned the camera back to his ceiling. "Oh my gosh."

"Aw cute, I made you blush."

"Shut up," he mumbled. "You threatened to not come if I didn't eat something!"

"You didn't have to—you showed me your freaking face just to prove you ate a cookie!! DREAM! I would have believed you if you just said you ate something!" she laughed breathlessly, staring at the phone now for a chance to see him again. "I was joking anyway!"

"Sure you were."

"I was."

"Well, oh well. You deserved to see me anyway."

"Oh, I deserve to see you?" She laughed. "How big is your ego?"

"You know what I meant," he groaned. "You got doxxed by Karl and you met Quackity in person. And you've clearly had a bad day because of all the hate and stuff. You've done a lot of stressful things recently and you deserved to be let in on a secret too."

He was so sweet. Like, tooth-rotting, Halloween candy stash hidden under a kid's bed, upset tummy sweet. She also couldn't get over the fact that he was a million times cuter when he was shy like he was being now, his voice soft and unsure. It contrasted vastly with the confident, loud-mouthed Dream everyone usually saw, though she liked that Dream too. She wished he could show his face for just one more second to see what he looked like shy. Probably sickeningly adorable.

This was it, wasn't it? The chance she had been waiting for to tell him her name? He just let her in on his biggest secret, now he was the one deserving to be let in.

"Y/n," she said with a confident, but soft voice.

There was a long pause. "W-what?"

"Y/n."

He understood the second time immediately. "Y/n..." he tested, the smile in his voice clear as day. "I like it."

"Yeah, well, I guess you deserved to know the secret too."

"I would have been content never knowing."

"Really?" She didn't believe him. He seemed like the type to never be satisfied, always looking for something better. Not in a greedy way, but in a motivational, goal-oriented big achiever way.

"Really," he hummed. "I already feel like you're too good to be true so I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't a real person."

It was silent as she tried to collect her thoughts.

"Bug? You okay?"

"Yeah, I... it's just a lot."

"Sorry."

"No, it's not you. Well... I don't know. I just don't know what I'm supposed to say when you say things like that," she admitted.

He paused. "I think you always have the perfect responses when I say things like that."

"What do I usually say?" She smiled shyly, pulling her hoodie up to her lips.

"You usually call me a nerd or say you can't stand me. 'Oh my gosh I cannot stand you'," he mimicked before laughing.

"What? How is that the perfect response to you saying you can't believe I'm real?"

He hummed and she could practically hear him shrugging. "Because it's a classic Bug response. It's a hundred perfect you. So yeah, it's perfect."

She was silent, trying to compose herself before she exploded.

"By the way, check Twitter."

"Why, are you bragging about me calling you hot?" she teased, hoping to make him blush like she had earlier. It worked.

"Oh my gosh, no. Just look."

She clicked her home button and navigated to the app, her feed instantly flooding with the same similar messages.

"Oh, my gosh," she muttered, her fingers flying away as she typed out her own tweet in response to the love.

Dream chuckled from the other end and when she asked him why, he vaguely said that George texted him but didn't explain further.

"Um, I have to go," she said mournfully. "Karl and Quackity are coming over again."

"Booooo," he pouted.

"Sorry, you aren't the only man in my life," she teased before instantly regretting her choice of words. Too flirty, Y/n, she thought to herself.

"Hm, shame. Am I at least at the top of the list?"

She bit her lips, wanting desperately to repeat what she had told him on their Minecraft date. In the end, she gave in. "I always mean what I say too," she started. "You're my main bitch, baby."

Dream made some sort of sound, a mix of a scoff and a whine but Y/n didn't comment on it, just glowing with heat in her cheeks.

"Leave before I don't let you," he said softly and the heat only grew.

"Goodnight, Dream," she pressed, the tone in her voice letting him know he was being a tease. "Thanks for... thanks for your tweet. And for everything you said earlier."

"Of course. Sorry that you have to see those kinds of things a lot."

"It's okay when I have people like you."

"People like me? What does that mean?"

"Just.... people like you." Cute, sweet, kind, genuine people who make her heart flutter.

She could hear his smile in his words and she figured he knew the unspoken words in her thoughts, the ones she was saying without saying. "Okay. Goodnight, Y/n."

"Goodnight."

**********

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