#i think i look at my asks + drafts there and just get /massively/ overwhelmed a lot of the time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

romirola · 10 months

Note

for the WIP game, lets seeee… can you tell us what inspired you most during the writing process, like maybe a certain song or Redacted video?

by the way I’ve got to tell you how much I admire you conviction I deeply envy your ability to have one WIP and fuckin knock that shit out the park my undiagnosed ADHD could literally not fathom it you beautiful mythical creature

-Lexi Sun ☀️

From this ask game!

@weightedblanketjoyfriend, thank you so much for this ask! It's always a joy to talk about fics, and to talk about the process of a fic!? You spoil me!! (And that's why you get a few short snippets!) Thank you for those kind words, but honestly, forcing myself to work on one WIP is less about conviction and more about my own sanity. It's too hard for me to keep all the plots in my head. I just gotta get my head down and focus on the one, or else I'll feel too pressured to make progress on everything and make progress on nothing, not to mention suck all the fun out of something I find to be so, so enjoyable. Onto my writing process for Balancing Act:

Most of my fics start with a bit of dialogue that I hear inside my head and really, really like. So much so, that I get obsessed with it. From there, I start to construct the immediate scene/context of that dialogue. Who said it? Why? To whom? What's happening to prompt that speech/situation? (Fun fact, I can point out the "starter" dialogue snippet of every fic I have written, because it just turns over and over and over again in my head before I even start drafting.) In the case of Balancing Act, the starter bit of dialogue was:

“It… It hurts!” they half-cried, half growled. Sharp teeth pushed up from out of their gums, shooting lightning bolts through their jowls. Angel sputtered and choked, overwhelmed with the onslaught of stretching and expanding every part of their body somehow experienced all at once. “Hurts bad… Make it stop! Please, I can’t…” They wrestled out of David’s arms, rolling over to the other corner of the bed. They teetered near the edge before toppling onto the ground in a wriggling heap. “Ahh!” David vaulted after them. “Angel!” He quickly ran to his whimpering mate. When David stepped to the side to reach Angel on the floor, he gasped sharply. An enormous black wolf lay sprawled out on the ground, awkwardly trying to balance on massive paws and twisting their sleek head in every direction to get a good look at their furry, beastly body.

Yeah, 9.9/10 times, my starter dialogue is hurt/comfort... Very predictable Romi behavior right there...

Eventually, a story starts to form around the moment, and I follow that story backwards and forewords. If I'm lucky, more "starter moments" form in my head and the connections between moments becomes clearer. For example, once I realized Angel struggled with a spontaneous shift, and that their instinctual confusion with experiencing the process would probably lead to the shift causing them immense pain, I also realized I'd love to see Angel thrive as alpha, which led to me to hear this little bit of dialogue:

Janelle’s smug grin faltered. She flinched away from Angel, her pegasus suddenly wanting to flee from the predator before her. “I…” “And say that breach happened in front of an unempowered human who decided to go hunting shifters for sport, trying to bring home a mythical pelt, thinking they’re going to be the one to show the world Bigfoot exists,” Angel pressed. “What then, if shifters were compromised? If bounties were put out on our heads by unempowered people who see shifters as animals? If shifters were hunted for sport, maybe legally, if the unempowered government were afraid of the half-monster things they'd fear you to be? Or, maybe instead, you want shifters all to be rounded up and caged like animals by some amatuer-wanna-biologists? Is that how you want to live? Trapped? Experimented on? Always tranqued out your mind? Kept as someone’s pet, with an electric collar to keep you on your best behavior?” Angel felt the wolf within howl and groan at the mere thought of the pack being subjected to such cruelty. <em>Pack. Protect. Threat. Shift. Shift now. Attack.</em> Their need to take down the pegasus and punish her for her insubordination was growing into a painful ache. How dare this woman be so cavalier about covert? Didn’t she understand the stakes? Didn’t she realize how brutally and power-hungry the unempowered part of society could be? Angel did.

Or sometimes, the moments are totally unrelated! And that's a fun part of the process, too, because it means I have to get creative to see how the moments lead into each other. For example one has nothing to do with alpha!Angel, but it wouldn't leave me alone until I figured out how to include it:

“Watch yourself,” Sweetheart warned though their yawn undercut the normal edge with which they spoke. “Because that cute little girl is going to grow up to be the strongest stealth anyone has ever seen.” They held out a threatening finger. “And if anyone tries to deter her from that path in any way, shape, or form, I'll rip their guts with my bare hands and cloak the evidence before they even knew they were missing organs.” Milo shuddered at the graphic imagery Sweetheart used. “Okay, okay.” He wiggled Sweetheart over so that they were tucked in close to his body, turned inward so that their head could rest on his chest. “I think someone is up way past their bedtime, and their exhaustion is once again making them a little bit too vengeful for their own good.” He brushed a hand across Sweetheart’s forehead, letting his fingers linger on their temple until Sweetheart's blinks began to slow. “You are so hot when you're violent,” he whispered softly enough so that only Sweetheart would hear. “I love you.”

It's the *moments*, Lexi! For me, the *moments* make the process. I am not one to draw inspiration from songs, though if there are any songs that you felt resonated with the fic, I would be very excited to hear your thoughts!

This was a long-winded answer to your question, so thank you for indulging me.

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted fanfiction #redacted david #redacted davey #david shaw #redacted angel #redacted milo #milo greer #redacted sweetheart #thank you!#redacted power swap

14 notes · View notes

radellama · 2 months

Note

Do you outline your plots? If yes, what does an outline look like?

Ooh boy do I ever. This is something that I've struggled with for YEARS and it's taken a lot of self reflection, refinement and a bachelor's degree to figure out how I work. To quote one of my greatest creative influences:

"I think I realized very early on that you can spend a lot of time constructing a really perfect scene in final draft and just end up throwing it away because you didn't figure out that mathematics of the story first."

- Brit Marling

In general, I tend to get carried away with my ideas and craft stories that quickly become more grand and elaborate the more I work on them. I love layers and thoughtful execution of characters and plot, so I want to pass that on to my readers, too. But, when my ideas become so dense, it's hard to keep up and make sure that all my details fall into place and that I'm not fucking myself over. As I'm a more visual thinker, I've found it most helpful with my largest stories to just write out the important moments for plot and characters that I absolutely MUST have in the story, and then pair them in little groups that work well together. Then, when I've got enough food a nice and weighty chapter/section, I start ordering those groups into the greater narrative and seeing what order will best suit the flow of the story. This stage, when ordering clusters of plot and character moments, is often where I'm able to let that gut instinct take over and do what feels right - I've worked hard at analysing and creating stories for so long that I trust myself with what feels right, and arrange it like a puzzle. Then, when there's an order that makes sense to me, I can fill in the gaps and ensure things flow nicely and that the parts that are important to me are given room to breathe. This helps me in multiple ways, because not only do I have a conspiracy board that clearly outlines the plot, but I also have a checklist per chapter/section of things I need to hit. Visually seeing the plot points in front of me helps immensely, and I'll often draw concept art or make calendars/timelines to help me as well. I've found that when I've set up enough stuff that I'm confident in knowing what the goal is for that section of writing, I won't get as lost or distracted or overwhelmed by the greater narrative. And while I love the visual on the paper, and usually stick them up on my wall as encouragement/reminders, I'll usually type up everything into a document so that it's easier for me to find particular things quickly with control+f. And even then, I'm often adding comments and notes to myself for things to research or focus on when writing haha.

It's just really important to me to get all the details I want into the work, as I hate reading it back after it's too late and realising I forgot a part that was super important to me in the early concept!! Or to read it over and realise there's a fucking plot hole or massive oversight that irks me to no end!! I don't do EVERYTHING in as dramatic a detail as this, smaller scopes don't need as much planning when I know what I'm doing, but the general concept of breaking things down and giving myself a clear guide in smaller chunks is what helps keep me on track and avoid executive dysfunction issues, and piecing together a story like a puzzle is super fun for me.

Send me some writing asks

#rads asks #anon #thank youuuuu #i hope i articulated this well but if there's part of this that needs better clarifying just lemme know fhhkkkhgfff

2 notes · View notes

sangoqueenkoko · 1 year

Text

i "hate" ocean stuff!

some angst, some fluff

wendigoon/reader - BECAUSE THERE ISN'T ENOUGH ANYWHERE-

MAIN MASTERLIST | OTHERS MASTERLIST

Summary: he hates the ocean, but.. what happens if he meets you? who.. is a resident of the ocean? (Why I thought of this is beyond me)

Warnings? DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE A FEAR OF THE OCEAN‼️ SORRY IF I RAMBLE, IM TRYING TO MAKE MY WORKS LONGER!

"you're a questionable swimmer..."

"...oh no"

this is has inspiration taken from a fan art.

this shit is amazing- DO YOU SEE IT? ahem anyway-

THIS ALSO HELPED FOR INSPIRATION IN SOME PARTS

AND THIS (this one helps imagine it most in my opinion)

DON’T READ IF YOU HAVE A FEAR OF THE OCEAN!!!!

can't stress that enough, i will not be held responsible for your potential triggers!

THIS THING DISAPPEARED FROM MY DRAFTS FOR A WHILE IT SCARED ME I THOUGHT I DELETED IT OR I POSTED IT ON ACCIDENT WHEN IT WASN’T FINISHED-!

PRESS PLAY ON THIS SONG WHEN YOU GET TO ** FOR BEST EXPERIENCE IN MY OPINION

1.5k words-

He has said over and over again in his videos that he absolutely hates the ocean. His hatred was an understatement, if you ever asked him what one of his number one fears was. If that makes sense at all. He has made it very known to his audience about his fear, and they support him for it.

He knows not to push himself.

In his video where he transitioned to him at the ocean, you could actively see the existential dread and uncertainty in his eyes, the look that he does not want to be there. Every little sudden unfamiliar movement nearby or further away, he's skittish. He jumps easily.

He knows not to push himself.

Unlike now.

He found himself at the oceans edge, he wanted to somehow conquer his fear. But it was too much. It overwhelmed him. It restricted him. Made his palms sweaty. His breath laboured. Thinking about what is in the massive body of water and how deep and unknown it is, it unsteadied him. Even the thought of that something could be nearby him. Watching his every move.

The sudden feeling of the cold water hitting his feet scared him. It was unnerving. He was unnerved. The wind blew the cold breeze into his face, it made him shiver. Even if he did have more than one layer on. His fear made him shake. Cold and fear was not a good mix at all.

He decided to take a walk, with a light, of course, to calm himself down as well as warm himself up. He sighed just before he heard something in the water. He aimed his light in the direction he heard it, yet he walked back up the sand to keep away as if something was coming for him. He heard the water lapping again, this scared him more, he moved back so sudden he fell back, gasping for breath as his fall took the air out of his lungs, he kicked his feet to move himself back.

He had enough. He got up and quickly dusted himself off as he walked back up to the top of the beach. He could not handle the cold and fear any longer. He wanted to go home. Away.

He sat in the car with the heating on. His hands in front of the air vent which was warming up. He took some shaky deep breaths, eventually becoming more steady and collected. He was sort of curious to know what made him scared. But also did not want to know, because it could be a shark, or worse, whatever that 'worse' thing could be. He looked out the window, back at the ocean. Only to see nothing but darkness, hearing the waves crashing in the background. Shuddering at the thought, he shook his head and started to make his way back to where he was staying for a while. Away from the water. Away from the fear.

He would not go back to that place. Especially that area. It left him wondering. He wondered what it was. He had to distract himself, think about something else.

So what is better than thinking about your greatest fears?

Researching them! Because that's what he did. He researched what it could have been, even if it kept coming back as reasonable answers, like normal sea life. He kept thinking out the box. If it was anything mythical he's researched in the past, it's very unlikely it's true. Because mythical creatures don't exist, right?

Right?

Well we don't know. The ocean has barely been explored.

That is what he kept thinking of. It made his mind wander.

He eventually fell asleep on his phone while looking at research. Lets just say that he's getting the very much needed rest from today.

A few days later, one morning, he felt... relaxed yet... decent or Okay. As if what happened a few days ago was some sort of a dream. But he didn't dream it. It felt like a thing of the past for him. Except that he had no energy to even get out of bed this morning, he looked for his phone. He fell asleep with it again. It was on the floor. He tried to turn it on. Dead battery. Sighing he sat up and put it on charge.

That day he decided that he would continue with working on his fear. But in the daytime where he could actually see clearly what was around him.

And boy would today be a day he would remember.

Because it was odd that when he got to the ocean-side, barely anyone was there. He sat on some rocks by the water watching the distant sea. The tide was out so that it didn't work him up. Good.

Everything was Okay in his mind. Then the water started to lap again. He gulped. Then came some noises. His nerves came back.

Then he saw something break the waters surface. Scales. They were shiny.

Pretty.

Then he saw the end.. of a tail? Shaking his head, he tried to think of a rational explanation. 'A fish? Stuck in shallow waters? Can't be' he thought to himself. He tried to convince himself that was the case before- 'hair??' He wasn't even in the sea himself and he felt like he was drowning.

Never mind himself for the moment, he was convinced someone was drowning besides himself. And his instincts was to jump in and help. Despite his fear, a human life was more important. Especially if said life is in danger.

Fear aside, he summoned all his bravery and courage to actually try and help this supposed person. Yet his vision was obscured by bubbles and all of that. ** The shimmer of the light reflected on the scales of whatever dashed by him. Whatever it was, it was not comfortable with him nearby. And much to his surprise, he went deeper than he ever thought.

To the point that he had to try and keep himself by the surface.

Then he saw the thing that spooked him for days, but yet caught his eye.

You. (imagine image of fan art here)

He was baffled,.. yet intrigued. Like it happened all in slow motion.

You looked gentle with the eye contact you two briefly held, but he knew how unpredictable the ocean is he doesn't know your real strength and what you could potentially do to him.

But the peace and tranquility of this moment was soon shattered by the fact that he remembered that he wasn't like you, you could breath underwater, he couldn't. And once that reality soon set in, he panicked while trying to get back to the surface. And one of the rules about being underwater, especially in the ocean, is to not panic.

Which is what he did.

Your gentle side recognised this and instincts kicked in, you had to help him. You quickly swam over to him and grabbed his arm and pulled, you had never been up this close to the surface so you weren't so sure about helping him seeing as he is from unknown territory for you. Pushing him up towards the surface, he soon went through it. You heard muffled coughs and gasps come from the strangers as the coast approached.

Once he was there and gathering himself and his energy, he looked around to get familiar with his surroundings once again. Looking at the water, all he saw the the bridge of your nose and up. Your eyes piercing his soul. You would not allow yourself to be seen by other humans. But let alone one already. You saw it as a bad omen. To your kind and them.

No words were exchanged between you two the whole time. Mainly because you found yourself fascinated by him and how.. he works, as you had already gathered that he could not breath under water like you could and was not the best of swimmers.

Today you learned so much more about him than you did the other day, when you accidentally scared him. Yet fear in others was a new emotion that you had witnessed and began to learn about. Did you feel bad for them? You.. didn't know. Did you show it? No.

Not caring about the way he currently looked, he walked over on his knees towards you slowly. You looked up at him, keeping your head positioned the same as before. You both maintained eye contact once again. He knew that mermaids were a myth. But he also knew that the oceans were barely explored, so that it was a possibility that they existed. And they do here.

He slowly held his hand out towards you. You moved you head out the water more, to the bottom of your neck. Hesitant, you would slowly extend your hand out to his. They ever so slightly touched.

He recalls your hands feeling soft and smooth from when you helped him out the water. As well as now. But then, he didn't know what caused it, but you immediately retracted your hand, you narrowed your eyes, pupils back to slits like a cat and dove back into the vast body of water. It splashing back at him.

The sudden splash of water made him realise,

he forgot about his fear of the ocean for a while.

And, to him, that felt...

good.

this was fun- may write more- you never know

ehe~ :)

13.1.23 edit: AND. MY FRIEND TAGGED ME IN A TIKTOK, AND HE SAID IT REMINDED HIM OF THIS

AND THIS IMAGE IN IT REMINDED HIM. AND ME TOO AAAAAAAA

look at this precious bby

#ELS RECOMMENDATIONS #did i originally start this in class? yes #do i care? lmao no #gender neutral reader #wendigoon x reader #wendigoon my beloved #PEOPLE PLS MAKE MORE #THERE IS BARELY ANYTHING DONT YOU SEE??#this is more angsty than i thought #im sorry #i dont expect people to acknowledge this thing #self indulgence at its finest #i have others to work on and heres me making more eheheeee

35 notes · View notes

love-peterparker · 3 years

Text

In Extremis || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: After the reveal of Spider-Man’s secret identity and the release of Quentin Beck’s murder video, there isn’t a lot going right for Peter Parker. But he has you.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, protests and rallies, mentions of murder, a gun that is never shot, and some hair description for Y/N for plot purposes (but it should still be generic enough).

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I’m first a Captain America and Agent Carter fan, and I wanted to recreate what makes their relationship so special, but with Peter and Y/N… ‘cuz I also love Peter Parker. I really loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy it.

Also, thanks to @marvelouspeterparker, @sinisterspidey (she actually has a blurb called I’ll Follow You and it builds off of Spider-Man’s identity reveal) and @stuckonspidey for answering my anon asks for general writing tips and Peter’s character. And @spideyspeaches with her kind words after reading one of the final drafts of this fic. Lastly, a special thanks to @peterbenjiparker encouraging me with this fic and for making me so emotional with her series Invisible String (Read this!... but only if your heart can take it) that I needed to write something. This story has nothing to do with it, but it does make some small generic references to her fic, and I would like to think that Y/N and Peter are soulmates in this story.

***

This takes place in a universe where a FFH-esque identity reveal happens when Y/N and Peter are young adults.

***

This fucking city didn’t deserve him.

Peter rarely admits it, but you say it all the time. When you hit a dead end in the Avenger’s database. When checking for your gun before leaving another safehouse. When reaching for him in the dark of night.

This fucking city didn’t deserve him.

It had been over a year since Peter’s identity as Spider-Man was revealed and the dubious video of Quentin Beck’s murder was released. But it felt like a lifetime.

These two Peter problems were like ivy. They rooted, twisted, and spread. Winding into chokeholds around their victims.

But heroes knew how to play with fire.

Peter’s identity was dealt with in a straightforward fashion. Plenty villains who would do anything to exact revenge on Spider-Man, but they would have to find Peter Parker and identify his loved ones first. And for someone like Peter? Well, it was going to take some time.

To you, Peter was lifegiving. A shining ray of golden hope. You fell to sleep and rose to press kisses into his face. To cherish and hold. To share tears. But to the world, or even New York City? He was a nobody, one who couldn’t even hold a steady job.

You all worked fast while the wicked played catch-up. The Avengers searched and wiped all, but ultimately little personal information Peter had on the internet, as well anything that might connect him to your shared inner circle. Everyone was given an Avenger’s signal watch. And both you and May opted to move as a precaution. May to Brooklyn. You to Avenger’s Tower.

The case of Quentin Beck’s murder was a much more grinding process. Through polished superhero reputations, the lawyers secured an Avenger’s Tower house arrest during court proceedings. An overwhelming amount of evidence in Peter’s favor was gathered. Press conferences were held. Speeches were given. And when it all seemed like it was too much for too long, you and Peter would lie in bed, arms and legs entangled, whispering that everything would turn out all right. Good will win. You just had to keep going.

It was taxing, but not impossible. And just when you all thought you were pulling at the end of the thread with the jury in your favor, the ground beneath you crumbles into nothingness. You spiral and crash into a labyrinth, lush and high-walled. Maybe this was the way out- oh wait, you’ve been here- or have you? You all turn and turn only to face a new dead end. A new set of incriminating videos were released. Spider-Man’s videos took the spotlight, but videos of Wanda and Bucky were also revealed. The streets of New York bustled in whispers.

Can we really trust these heroes? What if these videos are the truth?

And what happens when these powerful people think they are right when they are wrong?

When public protests against Earth’s heroes sprouted and jury members started to disappear, it was clear that the whoever or whatever was behind this had greater motives and powerful allies. It was time to buy time.

Everyone had tried to convince Peter to go into hiding somewhere else. Anywhere else. He had enough super-friends where anywhere was possible. Lay low while everyone else above ground scrambled to unweave this massive web of lies. But Peter was infuriatingly adamant that New York, regardless of her wavering loyalties, was his to protect.

So two months ago, he started bouncing around New York City, investigating when he could, and making polarizing headlines with every swing he took.

You tried to continue as if Peter was still by your side. After being terminated from your junior journalist job for “suspect ties to Spider-Man,” Spider-Man became your mission. You originally attended press conferences and rallies as moral support, but after Peter’s first awkward mumbles of a speech, it was painfully clear that he needed a new voice. The public herself needed a normal person who interacted with superheroes. Who better than Spider-Man’s girlfriend? But after the last kidnapping attempt and the Avengers’ numbers shrinking, it was clear that this wouldn’t last. The world now knew who you were too.

The thick ivy had caught up, and you were on fire.

But to hell with it because there was no universe where you would be leaving this nightmare without him. So the next time you looked in the mirror, you donned short red hair and heavy eyeliner.

Days were spent questioning possible witnesses. Nights were spent in the light of a computer. And when you could barely drag yourself to continue, moments were spent staring at your beautiful boy’s picture. He needed you.

You had only heard from him twice since he went into hiding, though there were a few times answered unknown number calls would lead to abstract rustling and distinct web shooter noises. To those, you always whispered “I love you,” before hanging up.

That was until last night, when you noticed small slip of paper in the crack of the window of the safehouse you had been staying at. Only a time and an address were written, in messy, but undeniably Parker script.

You spent the next day visiting arbitrary places in the Bronx, trying to determine if anyone was following you and collecting items in an unsuspecting backpack.

It was a balancing act between comfort and practicalities. An extra stealth suit. A waterproof jacket you both shared. Protein bars. Extra web fluid and a first-aid kit. A hefty wad of cash, just in case. And in the smallest pocket, things to help him in the darkest days to come. Letters from you, May, Ned, and your other friends. A few packs of gummy bears. And a picture of you and him, laughing in Central Park on one of your many dates. Sunlight casting halos on your heads. Bright. Carefree. Brimming with love.

Your heart cried and cried and cried, begging for those days.

But they were gone. And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, so were the people in that picture.

You travelled to the building location and made your way to the rooftop. Rows and rows of white sheets were hung, all whipping in the wind to dry.

A small smile graced your lips. You had to hand it to him. He was smart.

You folded yourself into one of the corners of the rooftop, gun in hand and waited. Eerie silence slowly lulling you to…

You woke up to the soft footsteps, sleepy eyes registering a shadowy figure behind one of the bedsheets.

“Hans?” you whispered, pointing your gun with a finger on the trigger.

“Leia,” the figured replied, equally hushed. The shadow lifted the curtain. It took a second to register, but it was really him. You raced towards each other, quick hold each other, beaming. Today, you existed in the same place at the same time.

“That was so stupid. I can’t believe you got me to do that,” you laughed, pressing your face into him, holding him tightly as if he could disappear at any moment.

“Oh, come on, you loved it!” he quipped. You hummed in appreciation.

“True, but I love you more.” His eyes brightened at your confession, pink dusting his cheeks.

“I know.” You shook your head, smiling at his response before turning your head and taking in who he had become. Gone were the luxurious curls, replaced with a buzzcut. A pair of fake glasses perched on his nose in further attempts to conceal his identity. Hallowed eyes. His skin tinted gray from the stress. You ran your fingers through the fuzz on his head, massaging his scalp. A sigh escaped his lips, eyes fluttering shut, with hands reaching to caress yours.

“You cut your hair.”

“You did too.” His fingers danced in the ends of your own tresses. A sad smile furnished your face.

“It had to be done,” you replied, before pressing your lips to his cheek and gently removing yourself from his embrace to get your laptop. “We need to get started. We’ve found a lot since you left.”

With his head on your shoulder, fingers laced with yours, and your laptop on your lap, you recounted the on-going investigation to him. The deep web that just kept going and going. Your theories and suspects. And when that was done, you kept talking. How Aunt May and his friends were fine but missing him. How the remaining Avengers were fairing. Peter was oddly quiet, sharing only a few thoughts here and there, but you attributed it to his weariness.

As the sun continued to dip, the silences between sentences stretched, but you mustered more words. As if your sentences were the delicate string that grounded him to you.

“Y/N,” he interrupted. You looked at him and hummed in reply. He began playing with your fingers, eyes never meeting your own. “I love you more than I ever I thought I could, and I’m really thankful for everything you’ve done. And you’ve done so much. Like, I don’t know if I would have even made it this far without you, but here you are, and well, you can’t keep doing this.” You cocked your head, before shaking your head, hair rustling.

“What? Peter, we are getting somewhere! I just need to visit the-“ He lets go of your hand, fingers clenching into trembling fists.

“No, no more visits. No more investigating. This can’t be your life. When this started, we thought there was a way out. But it’s been over a year. Clearly whoever or whatever is doing this won’t stop until we’re all gone. This may never stop. I can’t have you throwing away your life for me. Hell, I don’t even know when I’ll see you aga-“

“Peter,” you cut him off, your voice pitched lower in concern, “Where is this coming from? We’re gonna make it. It is just a matter of-”

“I can’t give you what you deserve! I’m Spider-Man, so we don’t get to have a house and two kids! We get this-, this fucking disaster! I live like this because I have to. I don’t get a choice. And you shouldn’t be stupid enough where you are doing the same thing!”

Your mouth fell open, ready to spit back poison when he looked at you. It was in his eyes. Behind the falling tears and redness was the glint of insecurity that Peter had always carried. This was the child whose parents died. The teenager who didn’t stop his Uncle Ben from getting killed. Who held Tony Stark in his last moments. The man who was on the run.

The hero who would never stop giving to a world who would never stop taking.

Your thoughts frenzied. If you held on to him too tightly, he would resist. The more he would thrash, determined to save you while slowly sacrificing himself until there was nothing left. Your brain was frozen, so your heart gave you the words-

“Marry me.”

Peter’s eyes widen before retracting into a tight furrow, scrunching his nose.

“What?! No! Did you not hear anything I just said-“

“I’m not leaving you. I will never leave you. The one thing you never get to doubt in the world is us. So, I’m gonna ask you again; will you,” you took his hand, went to one knee, and let your voice soften as you held his gaze, “Peter Parker, marry me?”

You both bathed in silence. His chocolate doe eyes boring straight into yours, searching for truth. The thought that maybe you had gone about this the wrong way started to crawl into your mind, but then a smile slowly creeped onto his face, bright red with blush. More salt-water pooled in his eyes. He pulled you into a near lung-constricting embrace, smothering wet kisses into every inch of your face. Mine. Mine. Mine. You could practically hear his thoughts as you basked in each kiss. I missed you. I love you. And oh my god, you’re here to stay.

“What did I ever-, I have no idea know what I ever did to ever deserve you.” A smirked formed on your lips.

“Is that a yes?” The gold stars in his eyes shined at your playfulness. There was the man you always loved.

“Yes, yes, oh god yes. I do, Mrs. Parker,” he said pulling you in for a passionate kiss. And you both stayed there, melting into the ground beneath you. Breathing each other in as moments passed. Tender “I love you’s” flowing generously from both of your lips. As if the world had vanished and all that existed was you and him, and him and you, and this understanding that this, this was a love until death do you part.

Peter was the one to break the string of kisses, leaving you to chase his lips before touching his forehead with your own. His breath hot on your face. “I- , if you go to my lab there is a secret compartment. In my desk. The code is your birthday. I was going to ask you myself, but then, well… this.” You chuckled as he stumbled on his words.

“I’ll get it as soon as I can.” You both leaned in to close the gap again when a cacophony of sirens and lights echoed in the streets below.

Frustration filled Peter’s eyes as he sat up. “Shit. I-, I gotta go. Are you gonna be okay?” You let out a shallow breath, but quickly forced a smile.

“Go get’em.” And with the whip of his webs, he was gone.

You sat there for a moment, taking in the new quiet. Your fingers graced your lips, still warm with the memory of his. A lightness had settled in your chest, and with every breathe you could feel it pulse stronger.

Because no matter what it took, no matter how long the wait, there was two things for certain.

He was going to protect the city. And you were going to save your husband.

#In Extremis #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker one shot #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n

91 notes · View notes

camilliar · 3 years

Text

recs for someone new to omgcp

[February 2021.]

Reading, or not reading, OMGCP fics has come up in a couple of conversations I’ve had recently with artists newish to the fandom (ie. @jovishark; @decafffff), who are making OMGCP art (!!!) but haven’t started exploring fic -- but maybe want to? Which of course reminded me that I’ve never bothered to make an actual, concrete recs list for this fandom. So, I mean. Here is one.

The approach is, what do I think about when I think about OMGCP fanfic? What comes to mind, what stands out to me? I have excluded some very popular fics. Some of these I just don’t think are very good, and others I do think are good, and/or I enjoy them, but I don’t see why you’d need me, specifically, to recommend them. I am thinking of a story like maybe i’m waking up, which I discuss below because I link to a podfic of it. It has a lot of merits, to be sure, but it’s the second-most-read fic in this fandom by hits, and it’s got thousands of comments, and it’s by an author whose work is relatively widely praised and circulated. I am not sure what telling you more about this fic will add to the conversation; if you want to find and read it, you inevitably will. I’m happy to, say, answer asks about these kinds of fics, or talk more generally about them via DM or whatever. Feel free.

Also, I don’t think there’s a point to pretending to be objective about fanfic; this list has a perspective and that perspective is mine. In this fandom I largely read stories that navigate the tension around Jack, Bitty, and Parse, in various permutations. This is not to say that I’ve never read fic about the frogs, or that I have no interest at all in other pairings, but I am by no means an expert on Dex/Nursey and can really only speak to the one fic about them that sticks out to me because it goes beyond being merely Dex/Nursey and does something else. This is just to say that I am sure there are great and interesting fics about other things and ideas--but I’m not the person to hear about those from.

Likewise, I’m not super interested in stories that really reproduce that which is already in OMGCP. I like Zimbits--albeit maybe not in the ways or for the reasons most fans would--but I do not really need to see endless iterations of the same story about them falling in love and being cute together. I don’t think these stories are bad or they shouldn’t exist or that they have no merit by default. Still, I don’t need fanfic to give me more OMGCP. I need fanfic to complicate, to comment on, and to transform OMGCP. Many people don’t work like this! Totally okay! But I can’t rec you fics that do that.

What I have noticed, however, is that over time there appears to have been a shift in how people do write fic for this fandom. (Other than, you know, increases and decreases in activity pending the status of the comic, pairings going in and out of vogue, and so on.) Early on, say during Y1 and Y2, the comic was about the group of friends having a cool time at college together; about whether the burgeoning attraction between Jack and Bitty would manifest and, if so, how; and, especially, Jack’s past coming into fuller view for Bitty and how it would have to be dealt with in order for a relationship between them to work. YMMV on how great the comic executed there, but as Y3 went on these themes increasingly disappeared from the story. I think this means a lot of fic written over 2015-2016 or 2017 has one kind of tone, and was written mostly around these questions; after that, it feels like a new crop of writers and a new crop of ideas started circulating, that is, either embracing Jack and Bitty’s canon relationship and accepting its relative straightforwardness in text--or deconstructing it, imagining what readers aren’t seeing, or how problems not dealt with in the comic would manifest later. People who have read my fic know which of these I’m mainly interested in exploring.

All of which is to say, looking at what I’m reccing here, when the fics were posted or when I first read them probably has a lot to do with why they stick out to me so much. Because there’s no real culture of fanfic criticism--and I mean that in the positivist sense of broad evaluation not explicitly for fault and merit but rather, for context--I think it’s really hard to keep this in mind. But I’m obnoxious and I can’t just be easy about things.

Fic recs

In alphabetical order, somewhat unsorted; if a stand-alone fic has a summary I’ve included it, but in other cases I’ve recced a couple of conceptually related fics or series, which I’ve tried to just describe or explain as opposed to copying the summary off AO3.

There are so many more fanfics I think are great and worth reading! In an ideal world I’d come back and add more later, or create a secondary list that’s more along the lines of “if you like this, read these,” or whatever. But, being realistic, this is a starter kit. I’m open to talking about fanfic.

- - - - - - - - - - -

7-0-2 by Idday; Friends in Low Places and Sorry for the Blood in Your Mouth; I Wish it was Mine by blue_rocket_frost | I’m not sure it would be correct to say that I don’t like Parse/Tater, or that I’m not interested in Parse/Tater. I’m not interested in Patater a priori; I think it could be interesting, with teeth. These fics stick out to me when I think about this pairing, because they feel different. Accusations of a preference for just linking any two white men who happen to be hanging around have validity, but because of what hockey is and how it works and who’s hanging around it, it’s not exactly a leap to imagine what kind of gritty spark the friction between two closeted NHL players would create. A little violence in your sex? A little sex in your violence.

A Sight Worth Seeing by sadtomato | A four-fic Jack/Bitty/Shitty/Lardo explicit BDSM series. Either you want that or you don’t. It’s nothing hardcore, and not properly a four-way, really; more properly a kind of voyeuristic round-robin. There’s a more open and egalitarian view of sex here than I really get from the characters in the back end of the comic. It’s an expansive, propulsive view of sex and relationships that’s really nice to see. I love Lardo's detached coolness, and Bitty as a smooth operator; if you’re looking for some kind of Dom/sub dynamics world, this really isn’t it, but it’s a lively exploration into the sexual dynamics in a group of friends that’s super close to the good-times vibe you get from Haus scenes in the first couple years of extras.

call me son (one more time) by Summerfrost, Verbyna, and blithelybonny | This is a series, incomplete, and you will love it or be massively put off by it. I mean that as a compliment. I love it. The premise is, Bob Zimmermann and Kent Parson have been having sex since Kent was, like, 19. Everyone in this story has been chewed up: by themselves, by each other, by hockey. Plainly, this is a pretty bleak view of what OMGCP, as a story, is supposedly offering. If you want fic that is dark and glamorous, treading the toxic melange of substance abuse, sex-as-sublimation, and so much money you can’t possibly throw all of it away without trying, this series has that sick-inducing shimmer to it. But, again, its strength is its examination of Kent Parson, textually and meta-textually, as someone to be projected onto. Bob, Alicia, Jack, and Bitty all impute certain feelings of their own onto him, displacing their own issues to a character who’s centralized in every fic but defies neat or total comprehension. Some critiques I’ve read of this series feel it’s too dark, and I’ve also seen it argued on FFA that an overwhelming amount of praise heaped onto these stories has made it tough for other writers to make headway in writing Bob/Kent fic. But I’m also not sure you could engage with Bob/Kent fic without going down this road at some point? I’m sure there are ways to scale it back, but ultimately it’s a story about how hockey’s violent, homophobic, old-guard gatekeeping has continued to set the terms for a younger and ostensibly less toxic culture. I fully embrace PWP fics that tread on the power dynamic without fully excavating it, but buried within any PWP is the fact that a 53-year-old man is ensnaring a 19-year-old, no matter how much the latter is, realistically, into it, and legally empowered to consent. Not to mention the dynamics of it being a 53-year-old man who is the father of the 19-year-old’s ex-boyfriend, and a 53-year-old man who is an eminence grise in the field the 19-year-old is trying to make a career in The sexual element--the vaguely incestuous nature of it--is making textual the subtext of how hockey works, actually: objectification of teenage bodies as older men’s capital.

Coach Z by thistidalwave | Just before the 2009 NHL Entry Draft, tp prospect Jack Zimmermann overdoses on his anxiety medication and is admitted to rehab. His future turns from a clear-cut road to the top into an uncertain path filled with therapy appointments, ignored text messages, a group of boys who aren't there to teach him a lesson about himself, and, of course, hockey. | I keep reccing this fic because it has 360 comments on AO3 but nobody, as far as I can tell, has ever read it; it never appears on rec lists. This isn’t the kind of fanfic I usually go in for, but I can’t help being charmed by it. This is a character study in the truest sense, a kind of Mighty Ducks-but-better view on what Jack’s time coaching peewee hockey might have been like. I have no interest in kids and my own aesthetic is maybe a little darker than this, but I admire this story because it injects vibrancy into a period of Jack’s life that OMGCP has left largely unexplored, and so has the fandom. We know nothing about what made Jack want to go to college, nothing about how he spent his days in between juniors and Samwell. It posits a very sympathetic and patient Jack/Parse dynamic, showcasing the exact kind of ragged teenage push-and-pull that would have led to the circumstances we see in Parse I-III. The outside perspective Jack needs is largely present in an OFC who’s not a love interest. Super unique, somehow both engrossing and low-key.

#dirtbags by angularmomentum | A series that is a Kent Parson/Claude Giroux fuckfest with feelings. I’ve long suspected that Parse is popular in part because he is the character who most easily elides OMGCP with the actual NHL, or rather, NHL fandom; I think he made it appealing to write OMGCP fics where the NHL is a factor. Case in point, this series, which is basically “what if Kent Parson was a real hockey player and therefore part of NHL RPS”? I have only read some NHL RPS, so I’m not the person to assess accuracy, but what I do know is superstar IRL hockey players take turns here as the caricature fanfic versions of themselves, and since Kent Parson is already that, it’s great how seamlessly he integrates into their social fabric. Rambunctious energy peppered with regret and loss, but ultimately this series is farcical, and it doesn’t take its sentimental ending too seriously--which, good.

fated to pretend by nighimpossible | 5 Jack/Kent fics that Ransom and Holster dramatically reenact for the Haus + the truth. | As a fic format, 5+1 doesn’t usually work for me, but this one isn’t just front-loaded with five too-knowing vignettes; it then wraps up by using its +1 better than you might expect. Sometimes I talk about economy of fic, and this one exemplifies it. A zero-waste fic.

go ahead and move along by originally | "Leave, Parse," Jack says. Again. Or: Kent finds himself stuck in a time loop. | Kent Parson is trapped in a Groundhog Day scenario on the day of Epikegster. I’m sure you can imagine, just from that, what happens. And yet I think this fic is super entertaining, reserving some key surprises. What this story is doing is something a lot, and perhaps even the majority, of great Jack/Parse fic wants to do: digging into the question of just why this can’t work in comic canon. Most often this is approached from the past, by writing teenage Jack/Parse deep-dives that examine their lives mid-juniors, or by writing AUs where enough circumstances are shifted that it does work, or via future fics that posit enough growth has happened, and enough things have changed. But this fic makes Parse live the same bad day again and again, testing multiple theories about just how dependent on circumstance and incident real life actually is. Another day, another tone, 10 minutes sooner, not at all--you just can’t know why it didn’t work until you exhaust every possible variable. I worry that this rec has sucked the life out of the story, though--it’s so fun!

I Saw a Life and Strange Lovers by @bluegrasshole | Most AUs in this fandom seem to retell the story in a new setting or with some big detail change, following OMGCP’s rhythm beat-for-beat. I think of this as, “It’s the plot of Check, Please, but” -- they’re doing high school football? They’re acrobats? They’re a/b/o? They’re in a DIY punk band? And so on. These two stories are not that! They’re both 1950s AUs, each deeply felt, and yet hugely different from each other. I Saw a Life is about displacement and fragmentation, two sides of a similar but incongruent social critique; Strange Lovers is a finely wrought social drama about coal mining in Nova Scotia in the 1950s, centered around historical events. I suppose a theme on this rec list is something like, “I don’t even like this, but” -- yes, okay, I don’t even like Dex/Nursey, but--! This fic is so overwhelmingly complete, the AU laid out so carefully that the story breathes with all the background details informing the writing that aren’t actually, in the story; you just know they’re below the surface. (With the exception of one investigation of Jack’s character in a short, separate fic.) I Saw a Life, meanwhile, really tests the limits of the notion that Jack and Bitty are soulmates--not by calling it into question but by asking, rather innovatively, how the setting and place of the comic itself activates that.

Les Hivers de mon enfance by staranise | What do you do when hockey is the language of prayer for your soul, and also the toxic thing that almost killed you? 2009: Jack Zimmermann takes a mental health year. God knows he needs it. | Here’s a fic by someone who’s no longer around so much, but she felt ubiquitous in 2016-2019 OMGCP fandom. Before any of that, though, she wrote this one lovely fic about Jack’s pre-Samwell recovery. The author is Canadian and really irritated by hockey culture, and I think this fic benefits greatly because she is clear-eyed about Jack’s being caught in an exploitative system; it’s hockey he’s in recovery for, in a way. There’s an epistolary element that works for me, too. I read this early on in my time in OMGCP fandom and it really stuck with me.

Lysistrata? I Hardly Know Her! (by which I mean everything) by @tomatowrites | It feels somehow like cheating to recommend OMGCP fanfics by my OMGCP BFF with whom I make an OMGCP podcast where we talk about OMGCP. You know the fics I really want to rec, like truly the ones that speak to some kind of shared depravity, are the ones where Jack is miserably mpreg for the second time and accidentally lets his kid see Kent Parson’s Long John Silver’s shrimp scampi promo spot, which obviously would get twisted into a self-hating three-way. How many times do I have to rec this fic? As many as I need to, is my feeling. If you don’t know, Long John Silver’s is an American fast-food chain that sells, like, fried pollock sandwiches; it is nautical-themed; I have never eaten there; I don’t know where there is one; I don’t eat fried fish. (Shrimp, on the other hand?) All of which is to say that it takes a real genius to investigate a premise that far out. And while a lot of people almost certainly will start reading this humanity’s depths-themed sex scene and back the fuck out, readers with refined taste will note that Kent, the point-of-view character, is right there with you, despairing that he can’t help himself. And so long as you’re in that story collection, honestly, you’ll love petite gems like Jack is transmasc, Jack and Shitty play hockey in 18th-century England, and oh, right, he’s from Georgia. Tomato holds the distinction of being probably the gamest author I know in this fandom, just really like fearless in her pursuit of any range of concept she’s pushed to. (I can push her to?) See, for example, a sublime bandom AU; Bitty is cancelled for buying a maybe-unethically exported Roman fragment of a youth’s torso; or, god, the masterwork that is this future fic series where Jack keeps relapsing and Bitty exiles him to their guesthouse. Do I think you need to read a fic where Bitty is snide about the teen prostitute whose baby they’re adopting? Yes, I mean, he would be snide, don’t tell me he wouldn’t. I could go on, but my main thing here is, if I have to pick just one, I’m going to pick this Lysistrata fic. The premise, literally, is that Bitty reads the Lysistrata and it gives him ideas. Like most of Tomato’s OMGCP fic, it’s a stripping away of the comic’s polite fiction that Jack and Bitty could possibly attain the ideal it reaches in the comic without some kind of messy, efflusive breakdown. Life is like that, you see! Tricky. Like a lot of people, although it’s tough to say precisely how many, I have always intuited that maybe Bitty is kind of a natural top? But obviously when you meet him, as a literal virgin, it’s hard to see how he’d go from zero to self-actualization so neatly. This fic floats a theory, and it has a fun little side plot for Whiskey, something I never thought about or needed before Tomato built it out herein. In conclusion, BONUS: Dex’s gay lobster novel.

only fools rush in and the light of all lights by decinq | This person wrote of the nature of the wound, one of the early, formative Jack/Bitty fics that was oft-recced when I was getting into the fandom in 2016. It forms part of a larger series that deals deeply with how Jack has been shaped by his struggles (? I hate this word) with homophobia and his own mental health. It’s a picture of the character as you might have imagined him much earlier in the comic’s run. The formatting is atrocious and he author’s flair is what Tomato would call “AO3 house style.” It’s a voice that works great for her writing. I think it’s at its best in these shorter fics; the former is about Parse and Shitty stumbling into a relationship almost accidentally; the latter, an eerie PBJ vampire fic. I had begun writing a fic where Parse is a vampire early on in this fandom, only to read this and immediately quit, because you only need one, and this one’s all I need. The Parse/Shitty rare pair fic shares its exuberance with hockey RPS when it’s good: here’s how fun it can be when you’re young, rich, and jocular. And I don’t even like accidental marriage AUs, they’re usually boring, so that says a lot. By all means, read the wound fic; read the entire series. But these are highly unusual.

OVERDOSE and Oomph and a little spin-o-rama by jedusaur | None of these are long, or plotty, and they’re all a little experimental. OVERDOSE is an AU set in a world where you know how you’ll die, but no details; Oomph, a little fic where Jack hears hockey pucks talking to him. This is the kind of stuff I used to think I’d find in fandom forever, coming out of Lotrips lurking in the 2000s: short, zany bursts of energy that surprise and delight. a little spin-o-rama peers at Kent’s character through the grim reality of being the hypertalented superstar stuck on a dead-last team. All three are sparse and stylish in a way that’s really smart, practically economical.

Sowing Season by @agrossunderstatement | Parse and Zimms, Zimms and Parse. Kent Parson's life, from the Q, through his early years with the Aces, to Jack's senior year. Canon divergent. A story of love, loss, moving on, regressing, hockey, and found families of all kinds. | Effectively a novel, digging into Kent’s personal history, mostly concerning his life in juniors but expanding into his present, overlapping with the plot of OMGCP. I think there is room enough for endless speculations on what went down pre-canon; this one offers a fuller life for Kent than nearly any others, digging into him as a whole person rather than as a satellite to Jack or the plot of the comic. Which isn’t to say that the Kent/Jack stuff isn’t dealt with here; it explicitly is. But the fact of Kent Parson’s life, if we can begin to imagine it beyond mere text, would exist before, after, and alongside Jack; he gets to juniors without Jack, presumably, and he is the captain of a hockey team without Jack, and Pinkerton lays the foundation of Parse’s character within a junior hockey that Jack also inhabits, more so that Parse existing for Jack, so to speak. And I’m not implying this latter tactic is wrong; I have certainly employed it, and others have employed it to great impact and effect. But, still, the title of this series tells you what you ought to know: Kent and his story are the potentiality of OMGCP, up to a point; seeds being planted. Young hockey players, similarly. The question implied there is, what will be reaped? And the answer to the latter, in a sense, that reaping is a sort of violence. Which makes this series sound pretty heavy, but it’s not -- more like, realistic.

(tell everyone) you were a good wife by @queerofcups | The biggest problem with pretending that he doesn’t know that Kent Parson is fucking his husband is that Jack can’t tell Kent how grateful he is. | The ne plus ultra of PBJ triangulation; I’ve been squealing to the writer about how good it is since August, begging for behind-the-scenes insights, and I’d only do that if I really meant it. The precarious social fabric stretched across these three chapters is fraying before the reader’s eyes. The details are delicious, and I don’t want to spoil them, but they sing in chorus with the plot. My favorite OMGCP fics, honestly, remove the romance narrative guardrails that keep things in the comic itself humming along. I think Dann’s take is to ask who in this comic has power and what they would end up doing with it. (Or not doing, from another angle.) At one point, early on in its telling, OMGCP looked like it was going to be a story dealing with the compounded traumas of hockey��s discontents. Then, of course, it wasn’t. This is a fic that steps back and asks what the fallout of that oversight would be. But that’s just the moldering core of this fanfic; it’s actually embroidered, like I said, with glittering detail. The color of the suit Bitty wears to his wedding is burned into my brain. The gray manicure of a woman Jack knows. The ingredients in a cake. This is one of those fics I still haven’t reviewed because the thought of stacking everything I could say about it into mere AO3 comments is inadequate.

when you’re ready by megancrtr | The Aces’ director of communications gets the call at 3:13 a.m. Jack Zimmermann has withdrawn from the draft. | “What happened at the draft” is so mythological it gets asked in the comic proper, and I’ve never counted how many fics attempt to answer this question--from Kent’s point of view, even--but it’s gotta be, oh, hundreds. This story replays the situation from the perspective of an Aces staffer who just wants to do her job, and gets at the jarring discordance between the plot of OMGCP in its quest for social justice and the business of actual hockey. Important context is that this story was written around the time the comic was playing out the end of Y3 and start of Y4, and Bitty pointedly asked Jack the question, “why can’t we?” This story reframes the question as literal, rather than rhetorical. A sterling example of fanfic being a gloss on its source.

BONUS, podfics

hockeyed up | There are many things on Jack's mind. Namely: hockey, hockey, Bitty, hockey, anxiety, hockey, hockey, anxiety, Bitty, hockey, hockey, anxiety, and hockey. | A fic read aloud by its French-Canadian author. Also a relatively early OMGCP fanfic; composed while the first semester of Y2 was posting, the story suggests a version of OMGCP that was in some ways more and in other ways less complex than what it would turn into not long after. The real power of this podfic, however, is that it’s read by the writer, so you can hear the intended emphasis in every line. Also, because she’s French-Canadian, Sophie’s intonation is what I picture when I read or write dialogue for Jack.

maybe i’m waking up | It’s almost funny. All he ever wanted was to play hockey, to play in the NHL, to win the Cup. This—Samwell, the team, the Haus—was supposed to be just a detour, but now it feels more like a destination he failed to realize he’s already reached.(Or: Jack signs with the Falconers, graduates, and leaves. It's the hardest thing he's ever done. What comes after is even harder.) | Don’t get too excited; this isn’t finished. A podfic of probably the best-known, most-recced fic in OMGCP fandom. Striking for its use of metatext woven into the story, this is one of several early longform Jack/Bitty fics that posits that maybe Jack has a lot more development to undergo before he can really, truly, be okay--or be okay enough to be with Bitty? To be honest, this story strikes me now as too long, but the parts in it that work are effective beyond that which fanfic demands. Meanwhile, this audio version only covers six chapters, but it’s so slick, so well-realized, so true to the story. Podfic as art.

my own dear friends | Ever since the day he met Jack Zimmermann, Shitty has seen it as his solemn duty to aggressively love him. (He just didn't know how aggressive the love Jack needed would be.) | There’s previous little Jack/Shitty in this fandom and a lot less quality BDSM,

the city’s ours until the fall | Kent has been, historically, good at this—forgetting about things until suddenly he doesn’t, and then it’s like the scar has never been there in the first place, just the wound. (Or: Kent Parson lets himself be happy, after all this time.) | I’ve never read this fic and I never will. I cannot imagine how, no matter how good it is, it could compare to the version that lives in my head, with Kent’s voice so totally realized. Vocal fry and pathos, a languid energy that I still think about when I think about Parse.

the model home | It’s going to be better, and that’s great, but sometimes Jack thinks, why can’t it be good right now? | j/k j/k, this is a self-reminder to finally one day review this.

99 notes · View notes

goodlucktkachuk · 3 years

Text

Cheer you up - Carter Hart

Summary: Carter was the best boyfriend you could ever hoped for. The two of you moved in together at the start of quarantine and with school starting up for you again, you’ve been super stressed. He decides to do something nice for you and he planned the perfect at home self care night. When he went shopping he grabbed the wrong kind of face mask and his reaction is more then enough to cheer you up.

Warnings: None this is just super fullfy and cute

Word count: 2k+

Back to school was your favorite times of year. There was something about buying new supplies and the rush of campus that made electricity flow through your body but this year was different. Not only were you cooped up in Philly with your boyfriend Carter but it was your last year of university which added some pressure.

You had met Carter when you guys were sixteen and it was the definition of love at first sight. You went to everyone of his games and were more then extatic when he got drafted to Philly. You had just started university so you stayed in Alberta while he got to live his dream. You guys made the distance work but you were definitely missing some of those quality time moments your friends took for granted in their relationships. When this whole mess of a pandemic started, Carter asked you to move in with him for the time being and you jumped at the chance.

The months before Carter was sent to Toronto were filled with you searching for internships and him doing whatever training he could do at home so you would usually do your own thing but together. The first few weeks of Carter being sent home from the bubble were hard but he had you there to cook him all of his favourites and spend endless nights cuddling to his favorite movies. It was exactlly what he needed to recover as the summer slowly faded away. Now as autumn filled the air it was once again your turn to be stressed.

It was a sunny September morning and you found yourself on your second cup of coffee in Carter’s home office. Your makeup was done perfectly and your hair was pulled up into a messy bun as one of Carter's worn out practices hoodies hung on your frame. You were thankful that your laptop camera cut out the fact you were still in your pjs with a blanket wrapped tight around your waist. As much as you liked the idea of Zoom lectures, the several hours of classes and meetings really dragged the fun out of your days.

Around 10am your boyfriend stumbled out of bed and you could hear the soft hum of music and dishes clanking coming from the kitchen as he made the two of you breakfast. After a few minutes you heard the door slowly creek open and you were met with a sleepy Carter. A smile covering your lips as you watched him make his way into the room. His hair was tousled in every direction and his pjs hung low on his waist giving you a clear view of his entire bare torso. You weren’t with Carter because he was a professional athlete but it was mornings like this you that you could appreciate all the hours he spent training.

You turned off your webcam as he put a smoothie bowl in front of you and planted a kiss on your temple, mumbling a soft I love you against your skin. You pulled him in for a quick kiss and he was gone again. This is how most days went. Carter would bring you breakfast and lunch and refill your water through the day while you worked and he knew when you finally stumbled out of the room it was time for dinner. He was more than happy to have you around but he wished you didn’t have to spend so many hours locked away.

This morning in particular he could see how drained you were and decided that tonight would be all about you. You deserved it with all the hard work you’d been doing. Slipping into your shared bedroom he got dressed and texted you quickly saying he was running to the store and he’d be back soon.

The one thing about Carter was that he prided himself on how romantic he was. He knew you like the back of his hand and used that to his advantage whenever he possible could. Whether it was expensive dinners when you were together, sending you bouquets of sunflowers when he was away or the odd care package full of his clothes with sweet notes in the pockets, the boy knew how to make you happy. Something the two of you had never done though was self care which in hindsight should’ve been one of your first dates because of how much you loved it.

This was the game plan. He was going to the store to pick up all the ingredients he needed to cook you your favorite food, some instant cookie dough for you guys to bake after dinner, face masks to do together and new vanilla soap to end the night with a bath together. After what seemed like the longest shopping experience ever he was met with the last stop, picking out face masks. It didn’t cross Carter's mind that there could be so many different kinds to choose from it kind of overwhelmed him. How could there be this much variety of things you put on your face? Why did they come in so many colors? So many scents? Lost, he randomly grabbed a black bottle for himself and a soft violet one for you and headed home.

When he returned you were still nose deep in books in the same position he left you so he knew you wouldn’t be finished anytime soon. He put the bathroom supplies into a cute basket he picked up and placed it on the corner of the counter as he started assembling dinner. After a few hours you were brought out of your daze by the smell of something delicious filling the room. Closing your book and laptop you decided to wrap it up for the day and see what your boyfriend was up to.

As you made your way to the kitchen you were met with Carters back as he was portioning something out onto two plates. You were in awe as you turned your attention to the table. It was perfectly set with a fresh vase of flowers and your favorite candles were lit to set the mood. You caught your boyfriends eye as he made his way over to the table to set down the two plates. Making his way over to you, he placed his hands lazily around you and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Surprise babe!” He was beaming with pride as he walked you to your chair, pulling it out for you to sit.

“What is all this for?” You panicked for a moment thinking you forgot an anniversary or something important. Carter could hear the concern in your voice which made him laugh.

“Just wanted to do something nice for my girl that’s all.” He smiled widely as he filled your glass with white wine.

The meal was absolutely delicious and the company was even better. As you picked up your plate to clear it Carter sent you a look and you slowly placed it back down. He had a rule where if he cooked for you he refused to let you touch the dishes because it was his way of showing how much he loved you. The same rule went a few minutes later as the two of you struggled to make the world's easiest cookies.

“Carter you have to twist it!” You giggled as you watched your boyfriend struggle to pry the top off the cookie dough.

“That doesn’t make sense Y/n!” Tired of watching him struggle you snatched it from his hand.

“Hey! Give that back!” He yelled as he began to chase you around the kitchen. He eventually snatched you by the waist, pulling your back into his chest. At the same time you tapped the cylinder off the counter and cranked it with a hard twist and watched the dough split open.

Pouting into your shoulder Carter let out a sigh of defeat and exhaustion.

“See, if you listened you could have avoided the work out.”

“For you sweetheart, I’d run to the other side of the world .” He leaned down and brought you into a sweet kiss. Even after six years, fireworks still exploded in your stomach everytime his lips touched yours.

“Hey Alexa, play kinda freaking in love with you on spotify.” You placed the cookie dough on the counter and wrapped your arms around his neck as he placed his around your waist. You danced around your kitchen for what felt like an eternity. The two of you swaying and spinning, looking into the other eyes with such admiration. Both of you thinking of how sweet this moment would be at your wedding but keeping those thoughts locked up tight. Eventually the preheating timer for the oven went off and ripped the two of you out of your day dream.

“Come one the faster we make these the faster we can eat them!” He sprang out of your grasp and laughter filled the kitchen as you finished up.

Your favorite part about these kinds of nights with Carter was that it felt like you were in your own universe. The two of you were protected from the outside world and all that matter was each other.

Once you had cleaned up it was on to the third phase of the night which you knew was going to be your favorite. Grabbing the basket off the counter you skipped to the bathroom with your boyfriends hand pressed firmly into yours. You hopped up on the counter and handed him the purple bottle as you took the black one in your hand. Extending your leg, you half wrapped it around his and pulled him closer to you. Squirting some of the liquid into your hands you started slowly rubbing it into his skin.

“Ahh babe that's cold!” He chuckled as he tried to pull away.

“Just sit still! You’ll get used to it I promise.” He relaxed into your touch and stopped fighting you. Soon after you were done he followed suit, putting the light purple clay all over your face with only light guidance. You stayed like that while the masks dried. Your legs lazily tangled in his with his hands on your waist whispering sweet nothings with massive grins covering your faces. Hopping off the counter you pulled out your phone to snap a cute picture of the two of you and it was time to take off the masks.

“So all you have to do is start at the edge of your face and pull gently.” You demstraded, wincing slightly as it pulled on your skin.

“What do you mean pull? I thought you just washed these off with water?”

“Some kinds yes but you bought peel off ones.”

“I did?”

You reached down and placed the bottle into his hand. Examining it closely seeing you were right a look of horror crossed his face. You didn’t pay much mind to your boyfriend as you were pulling off your own mask. He had gotten most of it off his face with minimal mumbling of curse words but then he ran into a problem.

“Y/n…” his vice trailed off as he looked at you and you burst out laughing. Carter stood in front of you with his face mask clingy to his stubble making it look like he had bread and you couldn’t get enough of it.

“Y/n this isn’t funny help me!” He whined, causing you to laugh even harder.

“Okay, okay! Sit still muffin. This is gonna hurt a little bit.” a wicked grin covered your face as you worked.

You tried your best not to hurt him too bad and he honestly took it like a champ. When it was all over you peeled off your mask. You could hear the water begin to run in the other direction and you could also hear the sound of Carter’s clothes hitting the floor making your cheeks stain red. It wasn’t long before your clothes joined his pile on the floor and you were wrapped in the warm embrace of both your boyfriend and the water. You closed your eyes and relaxed into his touch and felt his chest rise and sink against your back. He placed a small kiss on your temple and pulled you in closer.

“I love you.”

“Love you more C.”

#carter hart #soft fic #carter hart imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #philidelphia flyers #flyers imagine #hockey

173 notes · View notes

savnofilter · 4 years

Text

Kinktober Day 14

angel!y. momo

☠️ warning(s): ⚠️ everything between both parties is consensual. ⚠️ 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕙 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘, f/f, debuachery, no specific religion.

☠️ genre: smut, holiday special.

☠️ words: 2k [8 minutes, 10 seconds].

☠️ read more: kinktober(uary) | part one

☠️ summary: after a full year of rebuilding momo’s vows, she still had a lot more work to do.

“It’s time for your bath.” The guard escorting her said curtly, closing the door to her room-like dungeon, the cell accommodating her high status although ignoring her ‘heinous’ crime. Momo sighed to herself as she didn’t have time to thank her, looking back at her vanity as she looked at herself in the mirror.

It had only been one year since she had been taking her service, and might she say it was much harder work than she would have thought. Even though she had the pleasure of basically living in luxury she had to reap the work that had been damaged to many forests and landscaping of the lands that needed maintaining. Guiding souls, bringing them to their sentences, counseling them, filing -- everything she wasn’t exactly excited to do. Momo loved to be in the action and this was something that had action just not the way she wanted.

Another sigh fell from her lips as she got up from the makeup bench, wrapping the pearl-white robe around her nude body, and got ready for her walk to the bathroom. She swiftly got her slippers on and began her walk from the long hallways, quietly following her warden to her scheduled bath. She was grateful that the god’s still swayed in her favour, no cold draft having to poke and prod at her skin. She much as she always enjoyed watching the tall ceilings and nicely embroidered walls with the memorable paintings; it never beat the always hot and comforting bath behind the mahogany doors she had been introduced to. They were massive and the guards in front of it opened with almost no hassle. Still amazed her till this night that they could.

“Two hours rewarded massage time for service.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the news that she had earned a longer bath added along with a massage, nodding her head before skipping into the said room it was spacious and large, the heavy ambiance of relaxation just as comforting as the hot and steamy room. She dropped her robe as she stood once the heavy doors closed behind her, letting her hair down as she made her way to the open bath pool, slowly going down the steps as she submerged herself into the water. Momo was quick to tie her hair into a towel, giddy as she could just imagine all the kinks being worked out from the heat. A graceful and small smile came across her face once she swam further in, going up to a shallow spot that she could sit in but still be submerged, and tilted her head against the wall. It was only a matter of time before the masseuse would come in and she couldn’t help but feel at least a little grateful that she was able to help fix up things needed to be tended to while gaining something in return.

N-Not that she did good things to receive praise-

“S-Sorry my lord…” Yaoyorozu groaned in apology, knowing that she didn’t aid something else to her sentence. She cupped up the water and washed her face once, the holy water washing her of her burdens… or so she thought.

“It’s alright my love, as long as you repent.” A voice joked back, making her jump. Her ravenette eyes looked at the woman who stood near the pool, her head coming up, and her breath hitching. It didn't take a second for her to recognize who you were. You faked a frown as she shrunk back, the heat on her cheeks that came about definitely wasn't from the bath itself. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.” You continued, resting your beautifully weaved tote. It was almost as if a cat had caught her tongue, struggling to even say as she didn’t dare to look at you.

“I-I, u-um…” Her head was running in circles, she had been doing so good. “How did you get in here?” She asks, finally looking up at you. She jumps back a bit once you start to climb into the bath, her hand clutching and the other steadying herself.

“Does it matter?” You smiled warmly at her, unlike her nude state you had a cloth bikini that kept you saint. “I have many jobs, you just so happen to be my appointment.” You say simply, beckoning her over. Momo was hesitant in coming closer to you, her hot blush not going away once you softly cupped her jaw and leaned down close to her face, talking against her lips. “I missed seeing you on your duties, y’know~?” You brushed against her teasingly before standing up again leaving her to admire your body in its glory. She couldn’t help but admire your unique physique. You gracefully sat down in the spot she once sat, beckoning her over so you could get started on your duties.

She nodded without a word, turning her back to you and carefully laying down her head in your lap and let your hands massage her head. Momo desperately tried not to think about the last time you two had met, the lingering remembrance of your fingertips making her brows furrowed.

“Relax.” You say calmly, hands leaving her hair while swiftly taking off the towel. You grabbed the appropriate hair routine for her and washed it. You observed as she closed her eyes at the wonderful treatment. Your hands were fairly innocent rinsing it before rubbing circles into her shoulders and urging a moan out of her. Her eyes shot open and she looked up at you, sitting up quickly.

“Wh-What do you think you’re doing?!” Yaoyorozu panted softly, not minding that her top half was visible anyways. But you did though, and your eyes wandered with the discovery as well.

“Please relax, I’m only here for your tranquility.” Your smile didn’t fade or flicker, the overwhelming urge to leap into your arms and feel your body against Momo was growing stronger by the moment and she had to keep herself from falling for it. “Come now, I promise to be softer.” Your smile turned into a pleading pout, eyes showing just a glint of your true intentions.

A few minutes had passed and you didn’t try anything sneaky. Your hands were back to massaging her as they should and only had her raising her brow at a few times when it would trail somewhere it wasn’t. But of course, each ‘mistake’ was met with an apology, one that she didn’t even need since secretly she liked it anyway. She sat up once you told her, her breath heavy as your hands worked almost like magic, the knots, and tension of that area significantly loosening. Your hands glided over her wet back, humming at how well curved and built her body was.

“You’re very beautiful, Momo.” You leaned over her shoulder to whisper in her ear, delighted that she didn’t move to speak or respond. Your hands gripped her hips and pulled her back into your lap, the position leaving her straddled against you. You played it as if you paid no mind, smirking to yourself as you just knew her brain was going in circles once again. Your hands started to work at the knots in her back, trailing over her sides just higher than the last each time. “So, what had you so tense today?” You try to make small conversation, hands reaching around to wrap around her waist, chin on her shoulder. Momo gulped as you did, feeling your clothed chest press against her, about to retaliate before your gripped her arm and started stretching it.

“Well, I was on duty to clean up the lands from Wishful Peak to the falls in Tenshi Sanctuary.” You cooed at the answer, nodding your head in understanding.

“That does sound very tedious, no wonder they called me in~” You answer, doing the same to her other limb before resting your hands on her hips again. “But I’m guessing you want something more, don’t you?” You ask against her ear, eyes watching your reflection along with hers. She made eye contact with the reflective surface. She bit her lip before nodded her head, hands timidly coming up to place your hands on her chest and turning her head to look back at you.

“Yes.”

You wasted no time in leaning in for a kiss, moaning at the sweet and pure taste of her lips against yours. Hers was delightfully soft and plump, the inside of her mouth just as heavenly. Your hands started to fondle and grope her tights, letting her carefully shift onto sitting on one of your thighs instead. You opened your eyes to watch her lewd expression, the excitement of being able to court such an esteemed angel making your heart race. Of course, this wouldn’t be the first time, but to do this in one of the official sacred places is what makes everything exciting for you. You pulled away to watch up at her with a loving look, smiling bashfully once her hand came up to cup your jaw, her fingers delicate as she started to rock against your thigh once again.

You interlocked your free hand with hers, the other continuing to play with her tit to keep in rhythm. Once the stimulation started to build up with her, she couldn’t help but tilt her head back against your shoulder. You looked over her once again, lips attacking the skin of her neck with kisses, nibbling here and there to tease her but careful as to not leave any permanent marks. At least any that couldn’t disappear with the mystical water you used on her. Her breath was light as she gyrated her hips into your thigh, you happily allowing her and welcoming her to get off using you.

"That's it, baby. I've got you~ " You mumble in her ear, giving her loving a kiss before nipping it and sucking on it. Her hips stuttered as your hand expertly played with her breasts, your thigh moving against her to give her extra pleasure. Your mouth was careful in sucking on her lobe, making her breath hitch. Her hand moved from your jaw to lean to hold on your knee as she continued to ride against it. You encouraged her to keep going, her hips needily moving for a high she’s only felt once in a lifetime.

“H-Honey~” She tilted her head back, eyes closing again once your head played with her chest again, missing your devilish smile as you helped the angelic deviant get off.

“Cum if you’re ready to~” You tweak her hardened buds and pull, the stimulation making her tense up. You held back an amused smile when she finally did cum, the cutest shiver through her as she finished on you. You let her rub up against you as you slowed to a stop with your leg, watching as she came down from her high. You hummed appreciatively and let your hands over her skin, kissing her shoulder as you signaled her with a small tap on her hips that you were done.

Momo was a bit stunned before quickly realizing, apologizing as she got up. This time she faced you, hands close to her body as she looked away bashfully. “A-Are you going to leave now?” She asks, eyes hopeful and soft. You nodded as you looked at the sun setting outside.

“I’ll be back for you, don’t worry.” You give her your famous sly smile, standing up to kiss her on the corner of her mouth. You pull away as if you were never there, washing yourself off as she watches you. She sits back in the water, letting the water surround her once again. You step out of the pool to dry yourself and get ready, glancing at her once you place the note on her pile of discarded clothes. “Enjoy yourself, Yaoyorozu.” You walk to the door, leaving her in bashful silence. She waited a few minutes before getting up and going to the pile in which you had left your note. Her heart skipped a beat as she read it, a bright smile etching onto her face as she reads it. It was as if her night couldn’t get any better.

“Will you be mine? ♡”

194 notes · View notes

hubbytaeil · 3 years

Note

4, 23, 70 with doyoung

Doyoung + #4 I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified, #23 Can I kiss you?, #70 I know I should’t but I miss you

genre: angst

word count: 2308

summary: Doyoung thinks him disappearing from your life is best shot you have at happiness, until he is faced with the harsh reality.

ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗʷᵒ ˢˡᵒʷ ᵈᵃⁿᶜᵉʳˢ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ

There wasn’t any reason for Doyoung not to accept an invitation to dinner from you. In the few seconds it took him to read your message he seemed to forget how you didn’t talk for months after the announcement of your engagement. He had congratulated you, of course, even if the sight of the astounding rock adorning your hand had broken him down. Perhaps that was when Doyoung realised that, somewhere along the way, to him you had become more than a good friend.

The way your eyes gleamed while glancing at your future husband was the most beautiful yet heart-breaking scene Doyoung had ever witnessed. He truly was happy for you; he was glad to finally see you settling down. Yet, that night, there was bitterness in every sip of champagne, in every laughter exchanged, in every single look he would steal from you from across the table. He avoided the word ‘love’ at all costs when he would explain his situation to his friends, frightened that pronouncing it would make it real. It would’ve made the pain tangible; it would’ve pervaded every corner of his mind; it would’ve made him avoid every street where he could run into you. Doyoung cared for you, that never changed, but he also cared for his heart to remain intact. That night he had walked home alone, his phone in between his fingers, busy typing and deleting everything that would fill the empty message.

‘I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.’

Doyoung read the unsent message over and over, but the tipsiness didn’t get the best of him. He took pride in having chosen your happiness instead of his. He quickly deleted the draft. As he made his way down the street, he looked up at the starless sky. He was smiling but there were tears in eyes.

Doyoung could feel his every step get heavier and heavier. Why were you even meeting up in the first place? There were just unsolved questions clouding his mind. Moreover, he was troubling himself by what he was going to say. A part of him wanted to come clean, confess all of his burdens.

I know I shoudn’t but I miss you. That was going to be his opening line. Another part of him would never want you to be part of his despair. You were going to get married and have a beautiful life, it didn’t matter if Doyoung was not going to be in it. He stopped his grave walk when he reached the entrance of the restaurant. You could be seen through the massive glass windows, dressed in your favourite colour which made Doyoung smile to himself. You seemed nervous and it made him uneasy, but the thought of avoiding this encounter didn’t cross him mind long enough for him to turn it into reality. He was glad to finally spend some time with you and get his well-deserved closure.

So Doyoung walked in, like a soldier ready for war. When you raised your gaze to him the outcome of the battle was already decided. Doyoung would’ve lost.

The dinner went surprisingly well compared to Doyoung’s expectations, since you two had a lot to catch up on. He couldn’t help but notice how there were still some topics you hadn’t touched in the least. Not even once you had ever pronounced the words ‘marriage’, ‘fiancé’, ‘reception’ or anything of the sort. Doyoung was contempt enough in listening to your every word and every anecdote regarding work. He couldn't bring himself to bring up the questions he was dying to ask, especially not after seeing that you weren’t wearing your ring. Maybe you just preferred not to wear such an expensive ring all the time, he thought remembering how meticulous you were. Doyoung was sure that there was a logical explanation so he convinced himself not to think about it too much.

“And so, she stormed out of the classroom after I told her she was going to fail my class.”

“I didn’t take you for the teacher who made her students cry.” Doyoung joked after taking a sip of water.

“Well, crying won’t get her anywhere with me. I’ll give her three days before she comes back begging me to help her.” You asserted setting your fist on the table, trying to empathize your point.

“Is this how you treat your fiancé?” Doyoung laughed but this time you didn’t laugh with him. The comment had come out unexpectedly and he knew it was a mistake as soon as he looked at your eyes slowly losing their light. You stayed impassive for what felt like the longest seconds in Doyoung’s life. Silence, filled by the clicking of glasses and inaudible chatter that only amplified the gut feeling that something was wrong.

You gazed at your plate and then at Doyoung, beaming at him.

“That’s just how I treat everybody, you know me.”

Doyoung exhaled at your answer that only left him with more doubts. But he also was glad that those past months hadn’t thrown your friendship in the scrapheap. You know me. He repeated those words in his head over and over. Yes, I know you.

“Jungwoo told me he saw you the other day.” Doyoung quickly tried to change the subject, clearly, he hadn’t succeeded in doing so. You let out an embittered chuckle.

“Did he tell you why he saw me?”

Needless to say, Doyoung was starting to break a sweat as he felt like you were a riddle impossible to solve.

“No, actually he didn’t. Did something happen?” He stressed the last sentence as much as he could, as if to say you can tell me anything, you know it. He kept his eyes on you for as long as he could, afraid of your every movement. Afraid that you might even dissolve into thin air if he looked away for too long.

“I called him to help me move out.”

“But I thought you already lived with Jaehyun.” You smiled at yourself, not looking directly at the man sitting in front of you, setting your eyes on the hands of the bartender pouring bourbon inside an old man’s glass. Doyoung was a good a person, you always knew that, someone who always looked at the bright side of things. A person that, when tragedy stroked, was ready to sweep away the broken pieces.

“Oh.” Doyoung finally saw the bigger picture and felt a little ashamed, even if all he did was just not running directly to worst case scenario.

“Yeah, it was pretty rough. But don’t worry, we’re on good terms now. I got a nice new apartment all by myself, nice view and all.” You were smiling, yet the curve of your lips looked like scar. Doyoung’s heart was pounding restlessly in his chest at the thought of you going through that awful situation alone. He remembered that incredible woman he had saw months prior at her engagement party. He couldn’t see her anymore and it made him weak.

“Are you going to be okay?” Doyoung took your hand in his, noticing how cold it was. He observed how you studied that small gesture of sympathy. He wondered if someone had even asked you a question like that lately.

“I will try.” That response was enough for Doyoung, you were still the person he had grown to love. He was determined to keep what was left of your fire alive.

“I know you will.” Doyoung’s grip tightened softly. “I know you.”

Doyoung agreed on getting some fresh air after dinner.

You had gone past the uncomfortable conversation about how Jaehyun had realised only after popping out the question that he wasn’t ready for marriage.

“Well, he always looked kind of indecisive.”

“I guess we got the final proof.” It was wonderful for Doyoung to hear your laughter again, even when it came from a place of self-pity.

“I know someone has probably said this to you already, but he doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Doyoung affirmed, as sternly as he could. He saw you curiously eyeing at him, then you delicately put your arm in his.

“Actually, you’re the first one to say that. Thank you.” you stated, hiding a hint of melancholy in your voice. Doyoung kept you at his side, walking with you along the river promenade. How lucky he felt to be with you like this, he questioned how someone could simply let go such a wonderful person.

“Why did you never reach to me after... you know...” you suddenly asked leaving Doyoung dumbstruck.

“I just... thought you’d be too busy.”

“For seven months?” he was taken back by your precise memory, then he remembered who he was talking to.

“You didn’t reach out to me either.” Doyoung pointed out.

“I was going to... but then one day I saw you on the street.”

Doyoung got a lump in his throat.

“I called your name and you turned the other way.” your voiced trembled. Your steps stopped; you were now face to face. Doyoung couldn’t run away anymore.

“Y/n...”

“Was it something I said? Something I’ve done? Please Doyoung, I’ve been torturing myself for months, thinking about what I could’ve done wrong.” Cold tears made their way across your cheeks. As Doyoung witnessed this he couldn’t help feel ashamed. He had been haunting your mind, while all he had done was pushing you away. He put a hand on his mouth overwhelmed by everything that was being uncovered.

“You did nothing wrong, y/n.” his voice wasn’t stable, another word and he knew it would’ve been the end.

“Then why do you hate me?!” you sobbed, unable to contain yourself. You went on, uttering sentences, that would lose their direction in the middle, on how bad you had felt when Doyoung had stopped talking to you, how terribly alone and humiliated you had felt when Jaehyun had called off the engagement while you were visiting your family, how you wished you could’ve just called him during that awful period, until all one could hear were broken sobs. That’s when Doyoung broke.

“It was too painful knowing that you were someone else’s!” Doyoung shouted, fists tight as tears rolled down his face as well.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of you walking down the aisle to a man that wasn’t me, I thought it would’ve been better to step aside. But I never hated you, I could never. God, I could never hate you. And now I realise how my decision has hurt the both of us.”

Your sobs slowly ceased, Doyoung tried to make sense of your reaction. You stood there in front of him, wiping your cheeks, hesitant on what to say. Doyoung’s head lowered, feeling guilty for the pain he had caused you.

“Why didn’t you tell me right away?” you finally spoke but he still couldn’t look at you in the eyes.

“It was too late when I realised how I felt about you.” He sighed turning to the side, his dark eyes reflecting in the city lights.

“How late?” you almost chuckled at the last word but you refrained yourself.

“On the day you announced that you were getting married.” He noticed your body getting stiff at the confession.

“Doyoung...”

“You looked so beautiful, so happy. I wish had taken a picture, Jesus. After I saw that ring on your finger, I just wanted to disappear. But I only caused you pain and-”

You wrapped your arms around him before he could finish his sentence and tear up again. You held him closely, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“You suffered too Doyoung. God, I feel so stupid.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I should’ve known.”

You stayed entangled, in between sobs and a few reassuring words. It felt like putting together the broken pieced again. Doyoung eventually leaned back and look at you as you attempted to fixed your now ruined make up. He chuckled softly telling you that there was no need and that you looked gorgeous either way. His tender smile was replaced by a shocked expression when you pressed your palm on his cheek. When he perceived you leaning forward his mind went blank. Before you could get any closer you stopped.

“Can I kiss you?” you whispered gently and he thought it was all a dream. If he had rubbed his eyes he would’ve woken up, you would’ve been no longer close enough for him to hear your heartbeat. Therefore, he could only bring his hand on your waist and wrap you even closer to him and hope that he would never wake up. You smiled tenderly after getting his permission. Slowly you united your lips in a sweet peck. It wasn’t a dream. His grip on you was firm as your lips passionately let go of all their fears, of all the unspoken secrets. Doyoung took his time with you, rejoicing in every kiss, making them last for as long as he could. It was home. It was the right place to be. You delivered one sweet kiss before leaning back to admire Doyoung’s peaceful expression.

“What happens now?” Doyoung asked, caressing your lower back. What happens now? You hand travelled to his chest so that he could squeeze you in even tighter.

“I don’t know.” You aligned his face to his, your noses touching. “But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. We can decide. So how about we start over?”

Doyoung beamed at you looking like the happiest man who had ever walked the Earth. He freed himself from your embrace, leaving rather disoriented.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Doyoung.” he exclaimed, putting his hand forward. You wasted no time before shaking it.

“Nice to meet you too, I’m y/n.”

#doyoung au #doyoung scenarios #doyoung imagines #doyoung drabbles #nct au #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct drabble #doyoung angst #doyoung fluff #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct dream imagines #kim doyoung

58 notes · View notes

bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture · 3 years

Text

Hmm, still thinking about character profiles… might try and do something with that after this arc, since I didn’t do it before the USJ arc. Or maybe I should wait until after the Sports Festival? I suppose I’ll have to wait and see if I have enough material…

Still, it does feel weird to try and do character profiles when there are other ones out there that are so much more detailed and really dig into things. I mean, it can’t necessarily hurt for me to do, but it’d also push back the chapters even further when I just want to get caught up, so… bleh.

Anyways, chapter.

[No. 16 - Know Your Enemies]

First off, Mineta, why. Just. Sigh.

Our first panel has izuku and Tsuyu wading towards the edge of the water, Izuku cradling his broken finger while Tsuyu drags Mineta along. Long and short, Mineta says the villains will be stuck together all day. Izuku is muttering about how lucky they were, because that move was a real gamble, and if the villains had been smart, a few of them would have been hidden under the water. He can guess they weren’t thinking ahead, but they still need to be careful…

Tsuyu tells him to stop, since what he’s muttering about is scary. She then asks him what they should do now. Izuku determines that their top priority is calling for help, and that if possible, they should follow the shoreline and make for the exit, avoiding the plaza altogether. (Meanwhile, Tsuyu asks if Izuku’s okay, which he confirms even while wincing over his injury.) Izuku’s narration recounts that their first battle ended in a win, but that he’d made a deadly wrong assumption.

Huh. Izuku is using his elbow pad as a temporary compress for his broken finger. Interesting.

Tsuyu accepts Izuku’s plan, and then notes that Aizawa is drawing a large number of villains to the plaza. Izuku is worried about their teacher, noting that there’s too many enemies. Of course, Eraserhead is holding his own out there, but it’s too much for him, and that he had to know that, but jumped in to protect the class anyways.

Mineta think Izuku is planning something stupid (which I mean, rude but fair) while Tsuyu gives a neutral ribbit. Izuku clarifies that he isn’t saying they should dive right into the fight - just that they watch for an opening and do what they can to lighten their teacher’s load. The narration from above finishes with an ominous statement - thinking that they stood a chance against those enemies was a grave miscalculation.

Then we get an overview of the USJ and where everyone was sent, serving as the ‘cover page’ for the chapter.

Interestingly, neither Aoyama or Hagakure have a confirmed location, though I am aware that Hagakure later states she was in the same zone as Shouto. And Shouji… oh, poor Shouji…

Can’t believe my good hugs boy was slandered like this… damn you Viz…

Not to mention the disrespect to our goddess Yaomomo… when will it end...

Next up, we get to see Shouto being casually intimidating. He exhales a chilled breath as his shoulder starts to steam, musing about the villains’ divide and conquer strategy. He then notes with a half-hearted preemptive apology that it’s hard to see the villains who were in the landslide zone as any more than thugs with quirks they can’t even handle.

Jesus christ where does his ice end.

Shouto approaches the closest villain - perhaps the leader of that squad - his boots crunching in the ice as his left side continues to steam. The squad leader(?) calls him a bastard and complains how he reacted the second he was warped there, as well as wonders if he’s really just a kid before complaining about the pain from the frostbite of the ice.

Shouto briefly flashes back to Shigaraki mentioning how they brought along so many playmates (which I guess confirms that Jirou and/or Shouji forwarded some of what the villains were saying down in the plaza because otherwise there’s no way they should have heard from that distance.) He thinks about how the villains want to kill All Might, and and first, they’d all seemed elite, so they could use their numbers to overwhelm him. But taking a closer look, the pawns are only there for the kids, nothing but a gang of low-level cannon fodder. As far as he can tell, there are only about four or five really dangerous individuals there.

He then sits down(!!!) as he gets the villains’ attention, noting that at the rate they’re going, their skin will rot away from frostbite. The villains are alarm, but Shouto continues on, explaining that he’s trying to become a hero, and that heroes don’t do such horrible things. As he thinks about what he needs to do next, he asks the villains what makes them think they can kill All Might, and to tell him their plan.

Shouto, my man, that is a power move and a half right there, I cannot believe he actually sits down and makes them talk to him like an unruly class of students or sommat. Just, fucking hell, I don’t even know if he realizes how effectively he just asserted his dominance.

Our next scene shift (and the last for this post) is over to Yaomomo, Jirou, and Kaminari in the mountain zone, surrounded by enemies.

Pick your fighter. I’m Birb Dude.

A lot of those enemies have weapons of zome kind and are overall fairly intimidating, though there’s also this one fucker-

I’m sorry I just cannot take this one seriously, what the FUCK is that. There’s certainly some other questionable villains in this mess, but that one just. What.

Anyways. Kaminari just dodges a heavy punch from the big villain with the weird helmet on. He yelps as he gets closer to the girls and gets into formation (back to back to back), complaining about his whole life flashing before his eyes and asking who the hell those guys are and what they’re doing there. Jirou tells him to worry about that later, with Yaomomo stating they need to figure out how to get away from that mob.

Jirou asks Kaminari to confirm he’s a ‘lightning guy’, and then tells him to just fry them all to a crisp. While she’s holding a presumably metal sword. Yeah no, I can’t see anything wrong with that plan. Kaminari is offended because why wasn’t she paying attention when were partners during the battle training?

He then goes on to explain that he can only cover himself in electricity (so he wants a weapon), then goes on to say that he can discharge it, but he can’t control it - he’d hit them as well! Kind of like Todoroki’s power. He also states that he’s still trying to call for help, but his special transceiver is being jammed. He then finishes with the statement that they can’t rely on him, so he’s relying on them, giving a thumbs up with a bit of zap coming off of it.

Jirou grumbles about how he blabs a lot for a guy, then turns and kicks him into the crowd of villains, telling him to be a human stun gun. Kaminari yelps in disbelief at the betrayal, smacking right into the huge villain who almost punched him before and giving the guy a real good zap. Jirou is unimpressed as Kaminari realizes that the adhoc plan actually worked, and that the two can in fact rely on him after all. Jirou notes that that was easy.

Two other villains move to go after Kaminari, who is STILL somehow zapping the guy (how is that villain not dead yet??), with the rock fisted guy aiming a massive bouldery fist at a scared Kaminari. However, right before it hits, it gets cracked open by some kind of soundsave, leaving the villain’s unprotected fist to land right in Kaminari’s face and get them brutally zapped as well.

The boar-masked villain with knives tries to leap in, but a net shot from seemingly nowhere catches him mid-air and sends him falling to the ground caught up in it. We see right after that it was shot from Yaomomo’s right forearm / elbow, all while she’s blocking another strike from a different villain with her staff. She tells Jirou and Kaminari to get serious, with Jirou apologizing as she lifts her short sword again.

Jirou unplugs her ear jack from the speaker in her right boot, the jack retracting to normal length as she notes that she had a good plan, but Kaminari… (something? IDK. I guess he’s in the way? Or she wasn’t expecting his quirk limitations?)

We get her full name - Jirou Kyoka - and a description of her quirk, Earphone Jack.

We also get to see her use her quirk without the speakers, directing one of those amplified heartbeats as a direct attack at some of the villains, who hold their hears as they shout from the pain. Jirou blocks another up-close sword attack with her own short sword, nothing that in her costume request, she asked for a way to focus her sound in one direction.

A question about her costume, like. Why are the speakers in her boots? I mean, I know her costume needed speakers to direct her quirk, but why not go for something like Present Mic’s costume where she could have the speakers on her shoulders and so a lot closer to her quirk???

Yeah, I need to try and keep remembering that these are first draft costumes made by fifteen year olds and not meant to be used in the field / against villains yet. Sometimes I am a dumb. Thank you discord for knocking my head straight.

Moving on, we get Yaomomo kicking another villain back as she states that ‘it’s ready’, which confuses Jirou and I guess the villains as well. The villain she kicked stumbles back as Yaomomo crouches over, her back starting to bulge as she notes that it took some time, what with it being a larger object. The back of her costume tears open in a fairly gruesome-seeming image, only for the next panel to reveal it’s some kind of huge sheet that shoot out over her and Jirou’s heads before coming down to completely cover them both.

The villains are confused about the sheet, asking if the kids are trying to shield themselves. Meanwhile, Kaminari seems done shocking the other villains, stumbling as others start to run at him with their weapons or hands poised to strike. Momo clarifies that the sheet is a 100 mm thick insulation sheet, then tells Kaminari ‘now.’ Kaminari, nose bloody, realizes her plan and let her know that. He lifts his arms, telling the villains that he’s actually super strong before bringing them down and fully unleashing his quirk, zapping all of them at once.

Pikachu, use Thunder!

As the quirk wears off, we see all the villains are in no condition to keep fighting. Smoke rises from the insulated sheet as Yaomomo lifts the edge, noting that now that that is handled, she’s worried about the others, so they need to hurry up and regroup. Jirou is flustered as she points out Yaomomo’s wardrobe malfunction (which I will not be sharing here), while Yaomomo calmly replies she can make more clothes. We also get a blurb on Yaomomo’s quirk:

As well as probably one of the most important things that Bones cut out for some stupid reason: belly rolls!

Yes, Yaomomo actually has a healthy weight in the manga. I mean, all the girls do, but still. Why do animes just ruin this stuff.

Anyways, our last two panels of the page and this half of the chapter show Kaminari totally brain dead as he cheers, with another blurb about his quirk:

Behind all three of them, we see a fist smashing up out of the ground, showing that someone managed to dodge that super-attack after all…

Anyways, that’s a wrap for now. Next time is all Aizawa and Shigaraki, and that’s gonna be… messy. See y’all then!

27 notes · View notes

glorious-blackout · 3 years

Text

Writing tag game

I was tagged by @elorianna @alexxturner-me-on and @lanatural-books - thank you! 🥰💖

How many works do you have on Ao3?

I have 54 works on AO3 and 73 on FFNet (though there’s a lot of crossover between the two). I’ve been at it for ten years now so the list of fandoms is broad to say the least...

What's your total Ao3 word count?

479558... I have a feeling my current WIP might push that over 500,000 🤯

What're your top 5 fics by kudos?

Watch Our Souls Fade Away (Infinity War/Guardians of the Galaxy)

Silence is Golden (Guardians of the Galaxy)

What Might Have Been (Coco)

A Father’s Pride (Guardians of the Galaxy)

Way Down We Go (Guardians of the Galaxy)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! I always aim to say a quick thank you at the very least, because it always takes me aback when someone says something nice about my work. If I’m particularly busy or if there’s an overwhelming number of comments, I’ll at the very least leave a massive thank-you in the notes to everyone who commented 💜

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

God, I was such an angst junkie in my teens that I could give you at least ten examples. I’ve abused the Major Character Death/Tragedy tags often enough in my time... Of the ones I can actually remember, We Are The Universe is possibly the bleakest overall.

You’ve Always Been Here should be an honourable mention, considering the implications of that ending were so grim, I had to write a 38,000 word fix-it to make myself feel better 😅

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Most of my The Martian fics had nice, light-hearted endings. I also had a series called ‘Brothers in Arms’ based on the friendship between Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes which ended with them as bickering old men, which is still an image I’m very fond of.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you've written?

I’ve only written one (technically two but they’re part of the same series) which is You’ve Always Been Here. I guess it counts as crazy considering it was wildly self-indulgent and is more a crossover between two albums as opposed to the two bands (Muse and Arctic Monkeys) involved!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not hate necessarily, but occasional comments that have rubbed me up the wrong way or left me feeling a bit deflated. One example I can think of is someone who read seven chapters of my story and the only comment they could offer was ‘I don’t like that (insert random event) happened, I would have preferred it another way’. Or you occasionally get people who only comment to nitpick on one typo in a 1000+ word story and offer no other feedback whatsoever.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope! I can handle reading it regardless of the genders involved, but I am far too much of a blushing lesbian to ever write it for most of my favourite ships 😂

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge - I've had a couple reposted to other sites but they usually credit me.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I’ve had a couple translated into Cantonese, and I stumbled upon a Thai translation of one of my stories once (they didn’t ask for permission but I was credited, so I just found it really cool).

What's your all time favourite ship?

Not sure I have an all-time favourite, but Milex currently own my heart.

What's a WIP you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Thankfully the only unfinished WIP on my plate is one I definitely intend to finish! Still at the first draft/basic editing stage though so we’ll see 😉

What are your writing strengths?

I’m terrible at judging my own writing, but I think I’m pretty good at introspective character writing and I have a weird knack for emotional/intense scenes.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Too many to count. I’m absolutely terrible when it comes to wordy, run-on sentences. Especially with unedited first drafts - I could honestly put Charles Dickens to shame. I’m also pretty naff at dialogue, which is why I prefer writing moody introspective stuff.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I've incorporated occasional words in dialogue but never full lines, and only after ensuring I had the correct spelling/definitions. I probably wouldn’t be brave enough to do full lines of dialogue in another language.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

My first ever fic was a Muse one which has long since been deleted. Weirdly it took me nine years to write for them again, though they’ve been an inspiration more times than I can count.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

I’m torn between ‘You’ve Always Been Here’ and ‘Watch Our Souls Fade Away’ and in both cases it’s more because of the enormous fun I had during the writing process than the quality of the fics themselves. I think the former is the better written of the two, but I’ll always be proud of the latter. The response it got was incredibly overwhelming at the time and I still can’t believe that a story centered around Nebula got so much love and attention.

Also whenever I look back on it, I’m astounded that I managed to write a 60,000 word story within the space of about 3 weeks. I want that motivation back...

I think most of my writer friends have already been tagged (except @rock-n-roll-fantasy but I don’t think you have an AO3!), but feel free to join in if you’d like a go 🥰

#writing tag #this is so rambly I'm sorry

11 notes · View notes

koko-bopp · 4 years

Text

Undying-Love

jeong yunho x male!reader

word count - 0.9K

genre - FLUFF soft-angst, college au!

contains - self-doubt? anxiety? happy ending

synopsis - yunho literally has the biggest crush on you, you could ask him to walk to the furthest destination possible and he'll do it, but even then, there's only so much he can contain, and it's not long before he exposes this crush he has on you to you.

Yunho is sweating from his palms, he feels the need to lick his lips more than once in a minute because of how intense his breathing is; pacing around the room like his life depends on it, debating with a small but insanely loud thought in his brain.

He's not even sure what led up to the point; maybe he finally had enough; the amount of people in his lecture hall that have left open whispers about how attractive you are, the amount of people who've come up to him to ask if you're taken, if he could set them up with you, what your number is and if you two are together, and if not, then if they should take a shot.

You'd never have any clue as to how difficult it is for Yunho to endure those kinds of question-demands from people. He used to be unphased by them, but that was before he developed a massive crush on you.

He saw what people saw in you, being your roommate made that easier. Your smarts, your looks, your care, things he picked up on from literally being just a wall away from each other.

He'd ask for an opinion on a paper, since he wanted to talk to you but didn't know how. This wasn't highschool where you could ask the teacher to look over your drafts, so your peers are your best help in a place like this.

And then he requested a transfer from his old dorm room, the guy over there would leave his hair in the bathroom and frankly, Yunho wasn't going to put up with it.

The he ended up as your roommate.

One he developed a crush on.

It was a small one at first. He realised he liked you, just the way he'd be a bit too caught off guard when you exited the shower or how he liked it when you jokingly ran your hand through his hair or maybe how his heart stopped a little when you asked him if he had a crush on anyone.

Then it developed as the year did, he'd stay up with you if you needed help with an assignment, he'd buy you snacks and food when you told him you didn't have lunch, he'd get fluffy and fluttery every time you messaged him, texted you good morning on some days even though he knows that's not what typical friends do, he'd literally fight his shadow for you if you asked. İt's also when people coming up to him about you started to bother him.

He likes you, but that's it, it's not like you guys are dating, he doesn't have the right to be upset.

He once gave a guy who asked for your number the digits of another fellow who told him to give you his number, that was fun. He'd had a tough day and really couldn't be bothered politely asking people to leave him alone.

But it got different. He was thinking about you a lot more, like, there were nights he'd just think about you for no reason, there's been a few things he's done that he's not... entirely proud of but doesn't entirely regret, this kid once ran to the library in pouring rain for you because needed a book.

Yunho is dedicate, but also head over heels.

He's literally going nuts, and he's worried that if he doesn't say something soon he might consider faking his death and moving to France.

So instead of the latter, he's going to finally tell you that he likes you.

"Hey," he says shly upon entering, giving a small wave, seeing you sitting on your bed with one leg off at the side and hunching to type away on the laptop decorated with stickers and subtle pride merchandise.

You look up at Yunho, stopping your typing immediately, smiling at the man brightly, "Hey! What up?" You ask, then furrow your brows a little upon his body language, "Are you okay, Yunnie?"

Yunho nods "Of course!" He exclaims, a bit loudly for it to be normal, "I just.. I just want to talk to you about something."

You close the laptop, then move a little to make room for Yunho to also sit on the bed with you.

Your roommate looks nervous, something you pick up on upon moths of building a friendship with him. You leaned back a bit, placing your hands behind you with your palms on the bed, maybe appearing relaxed would help him. You chuckled when Yunho didn't say anything, even after he sat down with his legs crossed and facing you, he was being quiet. "What is it?" You humour, "Are you going to confess you undying love for me, Yunnie?"

"Yes.." he says, without even hesitating after your obviously rhetoric question.

You blink, probably didn't even hear him properly, "..What?"

"I know you don't like me," Yunho states, looking down at the nail polish you'd put on him for fun a few days ago, the purple colour chipping off and especially now that he's scratching them out of nervousness, "But you're the most amazing human being I know, you're so phenomenal and literally my whole type and.."

"Yunho.. I'm flatter—"

He shook his head, avoiding eye contact at all cost, "Please.. just let me finish," he says I'm a low tone, then continues, "I've been crushing on you since last year after you helped me dye my hair in the bathtub; you had no idea what you were doing and we had the time of our lives, just... You were laughing and telling me to stop being chicken and threatened to dye my eyebrows– like, how could I not crush on you?"

You listened, and your heart was skipping beats at his confession, feeling touched but you let him continue unless he was indicating otherwise.

"And recently I've been realising it a lot more, people from campus will be coming up to me, asking if you're single, wanting me to put in a good word, all that shit," Yunho sighs, exhaling deeply and still avoiding eye contact, "I just hate it, not because it's overwhelming but because I just want to be that guy, the guy that's dating you so I can just proudly say, you know, 'thats my man and the boyfriend position is occupied' and..." Yunho pauses, realising that he started rambling and being excessive.

There was the small silence.

Then Yunho huffs, "I know you don't like me, but.. I needed to get this off my chest.. I'm sorry if I ruined out frie–"

"Yunho," you snap, prompting him to look up at you properly, and a confused look on his expression. You leaned forward, placing a hand on top of his, smiling at him, a little bit disappointed at his insecure rambling, but hoping that your next words might change that. "I like you too, silly."

#ahhhhh #jeong yunho x male reader #jeong yunho #yunho x male reader #yunho x reader #x male reader #x reader #ateez x male reader #ateez x reader #ateez yunho #yunho ateez #ateez fluff #ateez #kpop x male reader #kpop x reader #kpop

257 notes · View notes

glasscupofsnakes · 4 years

Text

The First Something Everything

Prompt: Janus helps Virgil make his hoodie

Ships: Anxceit

Warnings: None

Janus sat at their sewing table, chin propped up on one of their hands. They sigh, they’d been sewing for what felt like days. Remus had requested a rather complicated ball gown, and in return, Remus would give Janus something precious; peace and quiet. A knock on the door pulls Janus out of their thoughts. “Yes, I definitely have finished your dress since you asked five minutes ago.” Janus looks up, expecting to see the tall figure of their chaotic friend, but instead it’s someone smaller. “Uh, no... that’s not why I’m here..” Virgil shifts, unsure if he’s allowed into the snake side’s sewing room. “Oh, Virgil. It’s you. I didn’t think you were Remus, again.”

Janus stands, brushing off loose thread and fuzz from their lap, and motions for Virgil to come in. Virgil takes a small step forward, looking around at the small room. To his right was a small green couch, piled with fabric and boxes of thread. There was a wooden coat rack, and from it hung Janus’s hat and cape. The hardwood floor was covered in an old grey rug, making the room a little more cozy. The wall to his left was completely made of bookshelves, each shelf was full with various books, some looked handwritten. Little trinkets sat in front of the books, a thimble here, a push pin there, the collection wasn’t organized or specific. On the back wall was a massive window, framed by curtains that matched the couch. Light poured in, but it wasn’t overwhelmingly bright. In the far right corner sat a large desk where Janus had been sitting. On it sat a sewing machine, their current project, scattered fabric, needles, thread, and a potted venus fly trap. Next to the desk was a smaller table, which held only an old gramophone. Under it was a basket that contained, what Virgil assumed, was vinyls. The right wall had various pieces of art on it, some were complicated landscapes, but others were clearly rendered by Remus. A shelf had a crystal vase with yellow roses, and a statue that Virgil couldn’t quite make out.

While Virgil was taking in the room, Janus had moved the pile of fabric and boxes of thread from the couch onto the desk. “Do you want to sit? You often visit me here.” Virgil doesn’t move, but he knows the remark on his presence was really a question of why he was there. Janus had a tendency of never being direct, and instead expecting everyone around them to read between their sarcasm and vague comments. “I’m okay, I was just, I was wondering, if you could help me with something.” Virgil crossed his arms, and didn’t meet Janus’s eye. “I hate to lend my assistance when I can. What can I do you for, my dear Virgil?” Janus leaned against their desk, mirroring Virgil's arms. “I don’t like my jacket, and I wanted a new one, one more personal.” Janus stood, and turned to face the window. “I see, and you know how to sew.” Virgil tugged at the zipper on his hoodie, and Janus watched him carefully over their shoulder from their non-snake eye.

“Do I make you anxious?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“It doesn’t change anything if I said yes.”

“Why get my help? I’m sure Patton would hate to spend bonding time with you.”

“Patton is great, but...”

“Overwhelming.”

“Yeah. Are you gonna help me or not?”

Janus stared out the window for a moment, before crossing to the book wall. They carefully remove one of their yellow gloves, and take an emerald green journal from the shelf. Janus hands it to Virgil without looking, and finds a wooden box on a different shelf and takes out a mechanical pencil. “You’ll need a design first.”

Janus sat on the bench, while Virgil leaned against the desk, and together they drew up designs for a new hoodie. After a long while, and many drafts later, Virgil had a design he liked. “So... should I come back when it’s done?” Janus stops sifting through various fabrics and looks up at Virgil. “Oh no,” they smile, “You’re going to learn, and I’m going to teach you.” Virgil says something inaudible to Janus, but sits anyways and props his head up with his hand. “Okay, Lord of the Tailors, what next?” Janus throws a plain black hoodie at him, and brings out a sheet of purple plaid fabric. “What do you think?” Virgil rolled the soft fabric between his fingers before nodding, and let out a small exclamation when Janus settled onto the bench beside him.

“What?”

“You surprised me, is all.”

“Oh?” Janus raises an eyebrow, glancing at the person sitting next to him.

“So, what do I do first?” Virgil asks quickly, turning away to hide the flush rising in his cheeks.

They work together for several hours, chatting in between Janus’s instructions. Virgil holds up his new hoodie and smiles, quickly covering it up with a cough. “You hate it.” Janus takes it from his hands, and holds it open. “Try it on.” Virgil makes a point to sigh dramatically before slipping into it. He goes to pull it up over his shoulders, but is surprised to feel Janus’s hands pulling it around him. With a small tug, Janus spins the stunned side around, and holds back a smirk as they study Virgil’s face. Bringing their focus to the jacket, they circle around the room, before summoning a mirror. “See for yourself.”

Virgil stares at the jacket for a moment, and sees Janus smiling behind him. Turning to them, he shoves his hands into the pockets. “What?” Janus looks away, preparing a lie. But when they met Virgil’s eye, something compelles them to be honest. “You look really good. It suits you.” They pause, before realizing that he wouldn’t know if they were telling the truth or not. With a smirk, they hold up their right hand. “Scouts honor, I’m not lying this time.” Virgil blanches for a moment, before regaining his composure. “I’m not sure that’s true, anyways.” He manages, turning away slightly. Janus grabs Virgil’s arm, so fast it was nearly a reflex, to keep him from turning away. Hesitantly, they take a step forward, closing some distance between them, and they take their hand off his arm. “I don’t tell the truth often, Virgil. But when I do, I mean it.” They lift their hand slowly and deliberately, as if to give him a chance to stop them. Gently they lift Virgil’s chin until their eyes meet. “Janus...” “Virgil.” “What are you doing?” “Being honest.” “I mean, this, you’re very, uh, close...” “Is that okay?” “I think so.” Janus retreats a step, opening his mouth to apologize, but Virgil stumbles forward and pulls Janus back. Before they can say anything, Virgil pulls them close by the front of their shirt and kisses them. Regaining their confidence, Janus wraps his arms around Virgil, pulling him closer and kissing back. After a very long moment, they let go of each other, breathing softly and blushing. Virgil quietly breaks the silence, “It’s okay,” he whispers, “It’s very okay.”

#anxceit #deceit sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides

159 notes · View notes

bl-garbage · 4 years

Text

coming out, like in the movies.

There are far too many reasons, wide-ranging and on varied degrees, for why coming out is That One Thing all queer people share in suffering. Yet, in the end, all of these boil down to that one overarching fear: that society will reject us.

Those who soften the blows of this reality will hold our hands, like Anna does (I love her so much, I fucking do), or will offer a safe space and let us cry it all out, like Ate Judit does. Others simply know and will let us come out of our own accord, like Tito Santi does.

These are warm instances of comfort, but ultimately they are mere consolations to help us come to terms with our mad realization that we had been ‘different’ all along. That we were unnatural. Sinful. A fraud. A phase. An illness. A mistake. An abomination. A wrong. The elements of horror that society has instilled upon us cast a looming shadow, that which would follow us even as we try our damned hardest to step out into the light. The truly laudable thing about Gaya sa Pelikula is how the show willingly offers an opportunity for introspection, a clearance for one to delve into the trajectory of their own stories.

I myself have never come out. Imagine that. A hundred gay-themed movies, one massive crush on Chris Evans, and a desire to be TayNew’s personal bodyguard later, and I still have not said the word out loud. I know because I keep track. My friends know I like boys, and I have never hidden it to those that truly matter, but the reality is that I have never admitted it either. For good measure, I would often create buffers, perhaps in an attempt to make things more palatable: I talk about boys, in all their chiseled glory, but from time to time I make sure to let someone hear, whoever has an ear, that I too had been in love with a girl ‘back then, when I was a teen, back in high school, I guess’ - which is true anyway. I will not discount that experience. But then here comes the shameful part: ‘So maybe I’m not totally gay,’ I would rationalize. ‘And why not? I could very well be bisexual.’ Or perhaps fluid. Or perhaps I was simply too afraid of a label.

Back then, I had probably already guessed this One Thing about myself, but perhaps as a defense mechanism, I had subconsciously ignored it. To friends now, my official story is that I had been in love with a girl - had expressed so myself and had written things about her and had bought her gifts - but then, eventually realized that I was also capable of liking a boy. This narrative is only partly true. What I leave out is the very real possibility that liking a girl could have very well only been part of this overall journey, one that had just been all too complex to understand for my nascent, horrified self. I was only what, 15, when I was first confronted with the reality that loving a boy was possible.

(One day I had found myself walking with a boy and realized butterflies had been swarming in my stomach. One day I was much too filled with a desire to message him that maybe things were feeling different. One day my mom caught me with that very message, saved as a draft on the phone, and my desperation may have betrayed my concocted excuse that it was just a joke, mommy, really. Didn’t matter what I said; it was what she said that had stuck with me anyway: In tones of pleas, she said, son, please, don’t. One day my mother and I agreed never to talk about it, but I knew better. There was no joke about all this: not what I felt for that one boy, but what I felt within myself. And a more brutal reality: That there was no way in hell my mother would ever except my truth.)

I had no one to help me understand. Things did not look the way they were over half a decade ago. Liking a boy seemed so wrong.

Which is why, I know exactly what Karl felt. Vlad had asked him, “Ano ka (What are you)?” and immediately told Karl that he should not be scared of the word. But the truth is, gay is a scary word. As much as we hate to admit it, being gay means being shunned, facing the worst of the world without any armor. It feels as though walking bare naked, unsheltered, with simple questions otherwise borne out of genuine concern feeling like sharp daggers thrown from all directions.

Things like these, one does not really get used to. They’re not ones that are suddenly okay, just because another person professes that they accept us. The bravest souls in the community will attest that they, too, fight to have the courage every single day. I recall the coming out video of Dan Howell, who had so perfectly articulated why the word ‘gay’ feels so uncomfortable. To me, ironically, the word seems like a label that, once uttered, would permanently seal me in a box, devoid of any guarantee of an out. What if things changed and I suddenly found myself liking a girl (though I doubt that anymore)? The answer to this is one I already know: that only I hold this decision. Would society then, as I have been so predisposed to believe, think that I had lied, that I had failed to be honest? Even when the honest truth of it all is that doubt and fear are two sides of one coin? To my mind, the word ‘gay’ already seems like a conclusion, and henceforth any acts that I do, the word would hinge itself. What if there’s no eject button? That is the truly horrifying thing.

This is an experience all too common, which is why it resonated with every viewer. Similarly, the experience comes with more aggravating instances: Throughout the whole episode, there was the atmosphere of great unrest, which we all know had been a directorial intention. From the cold open, we are shown a slow motion that signifies how overly conscious Karl was to everything; we are shown the way Karl’s voice had been muted when he was trying to talk to Tito Santi; we are shown just how problems are kept hidden and in secret, as when Ate Judit and Tito Santi were talking over them and Karl just being quiet, silenced, until it was he who had been put on the hot seat, ever so suddenly.

These people who are supposed to be allies have talked over Karl, drowning out his voice. Only at their own signal did they let Karl talk, and by then, it was to answer the question Karl had dreaded all along. We know they want the best for the boys, but this is important to note just the same: No one must be forced out of the closet. It will only harbor more pains. As expected, this unsettling atmosphere has paved the way for the confrontation we had long known was coming.

The heartbreaking part is that Vlad understands, so much so that he has been patient. Karl needs to find his own self, just like Vlad did. Just like everyone does. The montage of their own perfect life, lived in a large box that is their apartment, was but a sweet escape, and Vlad knows that. This was their shelter from harm. But a time must come when this has to end and they must come out. What has happened there so far - the dance, the hugs, the kisses, and all the memories - it was all real, but it was also hidden. And if one of you denies it happened, how would you trust your own truth? Vlad had taken the lead, because he had the pass to come in and out of this large box, sharing this precious space with Karl. Yet, it was understandable that Vlad had also been itching to help Karl come out on his own. To Karl, that is the most terrifying thing. When he said, we’re okay, Vlad, okay? he was desperately looking for normalcy, to abort this mission and go back and just - just stop.

Vlad has been through that, and was all over it. No longer.

Neither of them is to blame. On one hand, you own your truth; and on the other, you can never force one to live a lie and go back into the closet, just so that they may be at your own pace.

The bold truth about Gaya sa Pelikula’s penultimate episode is this: Neither Karl nor Vlad is wrong. It is they who have been wronged. By a society that has forced each one of us to hide, to man up, to woman up, to believe that the only way of seeing people was on the basis of what's between their legs and not what 's inside their heads. And Ate Judit, Anna, or Tito Santi may try their best, but they can do no more than to assuage the horror that comes with living your own truth.

I cannot stress enough how important shows like Gaya sa Pelikula are. For those who are only in the first laps of this journey of coming out, it can be their console. To me, this is a way of understanding why things came out the way they were. To others, this is a welcome respite. An embrace.

This is the magnificence of Juan Miguel Severo’s love letter to the LGBTQI+ community. This was just masterfully done. I find comfort in Vlad’s own love letter to Karl. I’ll bid goodbye for now, go into a corner of this box, and mull over the choices I've made thus far. (Reader, to be honest: I’m now writing this in my dormitory, in my own box I suppose. For the past six episodes I had been watching the show at home, but now I had to stay in the dorms. I guess, this was fate, too, to help me process my own feelings, alone.) Anyway, for those who have not seen it:

undefined

youtube

God, I am just overwhelmed with emotions. Just gonna cry now.

#GAYA SA PELIKULA #gayasapelikulaep07 #ian pangilinan #paolo pangilinan #juan miguel severo #bl series #dan howell #pinoy bl series #gaya sa pelikula

36 notes · View notes

ghoste-catte · 3 years

Note

multiples of 3 ✌🏼-sgmdrcklee

@sagemoderocklee you’re really trying to kill me lol

This got long as heck so I’m throwing it behind a cut. Read on for answers and fic recs! (Mostly the fic recs)

3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year

This is a tough one to answer for me generally because I tend to spit words onto the page and once I have written them I no longer remember writing them. And 2020 has stretched on so long that as I’m looking at some of the stuff I wrote in the beginning of this year, I hardly remember what’s even in it. I think at one point someone (@goblin-draws maybe?) mentioned a line in Sleeptalk with Me where the innkeeper calls Kankuro “chubby boy”, and I was like “Oh ... did I write that? Yeah, sounds like something I’d have someone say to Kankuro ...”

It might be easier to talk about this in other terms. One of the scenes I worked the hardest on this year was the fight scene in Chapter 3 of Skeleton Key. The original draft of the scene was a lot shorter, and a lot of the backstory for Misaki’s revenge quest was elided. The scene as originally written was clunky, confusing, and as my lovely wife/beta put it sounded “like a Naruto villain” was doing the dialogue, when previously she’d found Misaki sinister and intriguing. Which wasn’t what I wanted. I basically entirely overhauled the scene and re-wrote it several times. I wouldn’t call it a ‘favorite’ scene (I hate writing fight scenes generally; having chosen to immerse myself in a fandom about ninja where much of the drama comes from battle is my eternal regret), but it is a scene that I put a lot of effort into, and I’m moderately satisfied with the improved product that resulted.

6. least popular fic this year

By far my least popular fic by kudos ever is Pitch Perfect. Which makes complete sense to me. It’s a fic where I’ve written 2 characters who are men in canon as cis women, which pushes a lot of uncomfortable buttons for a lot of people. It contains F/F smut, which is something that a lot of people who choose to read GaaLee probably aren’t out there looking for. And people comment and kudos less on smutfics, I assume because they don’t want their username attached to porn or because they’re embarrassed (which I totally get, no shame there). It’s a modern AU with a sports twist, and AUs are often less popular than canonverse in my experience. I will say though that it has a surprisingly high number of private bookmarks compared to other fics with comparable hit and kudos counts. So I assume people are just a bit more shy because the premise is so ‘out there’. I will say as far as my fics go, it’s one of my personal favorites and probably one of the most intimate and true-to-life things I’ve written? So it actually is a little comforting to know that something so vulnerable has relatively little attention.

9. longest wip of the year

If we’re going based on stuff that’s partially published but not complete, my Gaara-adopts-Shinki fic On My Way Home is my longest in-progress fic at just over 20k words, although technically I started it in 2019. It will probably end up being right around 40-50k when it’s complete, which might end up situating it as my longest fic ever?

12. favorite character to write about this year

Okay, this is an easy one. I love writing Kankuro. I think he is hilarious. He is the devil on my shoulder and a creature of pure id, and every time I write a line of dialogue for him it’s the summation of my rudest thoughts about a situation put in the crudest possible terms. If there were a megaphone directly from my unfiltered brain giving running commentary, that would be Kankuro.

15. something you learned this year

I have learned SO much this year! This is only my 2nd year properly ‘focusing’ on writing fic and investing any substantial time into it. I think the biggest thing I have learned, though, is how to overcome a lot of my self-consciousness about writing stories with NSFW elements in them. Starting out, I was so extremely shy and mortified about writing fic at all, much less things like hugging or (god forbid!) kissing. So taking on the smut prompts I took this year and really buckling down on learning to write the mechanics and emotions of sex has been a massive learning experience. (And sorry, by the way, if I haven’t gotten to a prompt you sent me in January yet. I do intend to write all of them eventually!)

18. current number of WIPs

Ah. The call-out question. My general fic process is idea -> outline -> wip -> edit -> ready to post (where the final draft sits in my docs until I gin up the courage to actually post it). So skipping fics that are just “ideas” on the big mega-list, I have 3 fics in the “outline” stage, 13 fics in the partially written “wip” stage, 1 fic in the “editing” stage, and 2 that are complete but yet-to-be-posted. So, like, 19 total in the offing. (The “ideas” list is even worse lol.)

21. most memorable comment/review

This is such a difficult question because every single comment I get makes me do a little dance for joy. That’s not an exaggeration btw I really sit there and like bounce around in my seat for a moment before I open the Ao3 email. I am not an especially emotive person irl, but there have been times I’ve been brought near tears by comments. I’ll also occasionally show them to my wife like !! look at this nice thing this person said !! and she’s indulgent enough to actually read them. There have been a couple comments that have really stuck with me, that I starred in my inbox and return to frequently, but I don’t want to bring attention to someone else without their permission. I will say there was one person recently who mentioned (not in the comments on one of my fics) that they had found someone who does physical binding of fanfiction and they were about to ask my permission to do that, but then the person who does the binding only does certain ships that she likes ... so that, just, absolutely floored me. The idea that someone might actual want a physical copy of my stupid little ninja fanfictions is, like, so truly immense and completely overwhelming?

24. favorite fic you read this year

You can’t make me pick just one!! (For reference, I have bookmarked right around 180 fics in the past year, and that’s not including fics that I just read, really enjoyed, but didn’t think I could ‘handle’ a second time around.) So, skipping over the ones that AREN’T Naruto ... here is a brief sampling of some faves:

Silica by deepestbluest (rated E, GaaLee, ShikaTema, and Kankiba) - An absolute emotional powerhouse of a fic that manages to skillfully interweave three complex relationship dynamics, satisfactorily resolve them, and give you ALL the sandsibs feels in just over 10k words.

Childhood Not-Friends (series) by MegaWallflower (rated G, KakaGai) - @megawallflower is a KakaGai god for good reason. Absolutely adorable relationship development fics (five of them!) with the premise that Kakashi thinks he and Gai have been dating since they were kids ... Gai just hasn’t been clued into it yet. These stories will give you heart-eyes.

The Bright Side by gidget_goes (rated T, GaaLee) - This is the Buffy AU I never knew I needed, because I’ve never seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But truly you don’t need any Buffy knowledge to enjoy this fic. @gidget-goes command of imagery is masterful, and the way they manage to snap from snark to tugging at your heartstrings is awe-inspiring. Gaara breaks my heart in this. And did I mention Kankuro wears a 10-gallon hat? Because Kankuro wears a 10-gallon hat.

Nature vs. Nurture by Bidiza (rated T, GaaLee) - So introspective and so poetic. This looks like a WIP but it’s actually multiple oneshots, although by the end of the second one you’ll be dying for the rest of the promised series.

I’m a Fool to Want You by BeelieveRosemarie (rated M, GaaLee) - Turns out @tuttiefruttiegaalee isn’t just an amazing artist, they’re a writer, too! Slow-dancing that will break your heart. Listen to the Frank Sinatra song while you read this for extra tear-jerking effect.

Let Love be Known (series) by TenTomatoes (rated G, GaaLee) - This is the twist on the arranged marriage trope and Beauty and the Beast that I didn’t realize this fandom was missing. I’m absolutely obsessed with their concept of Gaara as the Beast

I Could Be by LilacNoctua (rated T, GaaLee) - I know I big up @lilac-writes Worthwhile series a lot (deservedly so, because it’s so good it makes you look at the series and go “Why the fuck didn’t Kishimoto make this canon exactly like this?”), but this story made me absolutely die between the butterflies in my stomach and how hard I was laughing. There’s one line--you’ll know it when you read it--that absolutely bowls me over every time I re-read this.

And Then Continue by EgregiousDerp (rated E, GaaLee) - Obviously I’m biased because this was a gift, but @egregiousderp writes some of the the best characterized porn I’ve ever read. You will read this and go “Wow! This is exactly how it would happen!” It’s such a tender, beautiful exploration of Gaara’s insecurities and a very real feeling first time, for all its soft edges.

Cake by citronelle (rated E, KanKiba) - I don’t even know what to say about this one other than ... phew, this is extremely well written, extremely hot, and extremely in character. Just read it. I promise it’s worth it.

Saudade by YumKiwiDelicious (rated M, GaaLee) - I’ve run around reccing this to just about every person on the face of the earth at this point. If you’re in the GaaLee Discord you probably saw everyone salivating over every new update of this fic and with good reason. The twists and turns of this fic will have you on the edge of your seat, second guessing every single moment. And it will break your heart in the meantime. What more could you want?

the love potion commotion by floating_cats (rated T, NejiSasu with background GaaLee) - One of those fics where you wish the author’s sense of humor was your own. So many hilarious moments in this story, and it brought me a new appreciation for a ship I never would have even considered.

Finger Lickin’ Good by whazzername (rated E, GaaLee) - Whazz is another one of those authors where I literally want to rec every single thing she’s ever written, she’s just that good. (Speaking of which, if you haven’t read Fools Rush In and its sequel Degrees of Separation, you’re missing out on the best possible Metal origin story of all time. Don’t deprive yourself of this.) But this story is just ... so incredibly in character for a situation that reads like crack. It’s handled with the utmost straight-facedness and it’s so. freakin’. good.

heart lines by winterberry_holly (rated M, NejiTen and GaaLee) - I don’t even have the words to describe how perfect this fic is. It’s a truly beautiful exploration of Tenten’s relationship with her palmistry hobby and with the people in her life. My heart ached with every single line.

Standing on Ceremony by kuroashi (rated E, GaaLee) - This is just ... such a beautiful wedding story. So lovely, like getting the best possible warm hug from someone you love. If that love one was slightly strange and socially inept, because, well. It’s still Gaara doing Gaara-things. @baphometsss is another one of those authors whose handling of smut scenes is so stupendous it makes me wildly jealous.

Thrall by RokiRiot (rated T, GaaLee) - Idiots-to-lovers with a magic AU twist! This is such a wonderful story, and Gaara’s internal monologue is absolutely amazing. And Lee is Deaf in this fic, which I never ever get to see and which absolutely made my entire day/week/month/life.

Make-Out Consequences by LuxaLucifer (rated M, KakaGai with background canon Boruto ships) - I laughed so hard reading this that I had to take a breather to stop crying. That’s not an exaggeration. The characterization in this fic is impeccable and the humor is to die for. Naruto’s buffoonery truly shines here, and the author’s wit is just beyond anything I could even properly summarize. Hysterical. A++.

Thirteen Strokes by Luna_Lee (rated T, GaaLee) - Again, like, if you aren’t reading literally everything @sagemoderocklee writes, are you even really a GaaLee fan? But this fic is beyond even for one of Eeri’s incredibly excellent writings. The worldbuilding in this, the cultural notes, the imagery ... it’s all so lush and so fulfilling and so beautiful. It’s a story about love and it’s a story that you can tell has love poured into every single line. I can’t recommend it enough.

Checkmate by shadowstrangle (rated G, GaaLee) - The pettiness vibes ... this is so funny. Such a cute story and I love Gaara’s sense of humor here. Not a lot of writers give him a sense of humor, but I love how @shadowstrangle gives him a slightly odd, slightly left-of-center take on humor that still manages to be so funny.

To Court a Village by FanFictionEngineer (rated G, GaaLee) - Another one where my bias is perhaps slightly obvious, but the premise of this fic is amazing. I love cultural misunderstandings, and the idea of Lee trying his hardest to court Gaara ineptly is just so perfect.

affliction of feeling by theformerone (rated E, SakuHina) - One of those ships that it would never have occurred to me to seek out but that absolutely works with how the author’s set it up. The dynamics here are delicious. It’s so rare to find good F/F porn but this is one of them for sure.

Tried and Tested by twentysomething (Rated M, KakaIru with background canon Boruto ships and GaaLee) - Iruka’s narration in this story is just incredible. I haven’t laughed this hard reading a fic in ages. And the concept alone (that Naruto can’t be promoted to Hokage until he passes his chuunin exams ... as an adult ... and Sasuke gets dragged along for the ride) is just brilliant. Amazing concept, amazingly executed.

a fireside waltz by winterberry_holly (rated M, GaaLee) - I really tried not to rec a single author more than once here but for this one I had to. I got about halfway through this fic and immediately started running around ringing the town crier bell like READ THIS FIC! READ THIS FIC! An absolutely smoldering Regency AU with such beautiful, intimate dance scenes. My heart was racing every single time their fingers brushed. If you don’t read anything else on this list, at the very least read this.

27. favorite fanfic author of the year

I really can’t pick just one. I am lucky enough that @egregiousderp passes me her drafts under the table before (or without) publishing, and getting to read those is a private treat of unparalleled proportions. Some of my favorite things I’ve read this year I can’t even rec because they’re her unpublished stuff.

30. favorite fandom to read fic from this year

This is gonna come off strange because I just wrote such a long Naruto reclist, but I recently watched What We Do in the Shadows, and found an incredibly talented group of authors in that fandom with really amazingly good dialogue and narrative voice. I also read a lot of fic for the new It movies (even though I couldn’t watch the 2nd one for ~reasons~), and damn if there isn’t a talented crop of authors in that fandom, too. And finally with ATLA making its way onto Netflix, I had the chance to start watching that for the first time and found a ton of really good fic there as well!

fanfic end of the year asks!

#answered #ask meme #sagemoderocklee #Anonymous

24 notes · View notes

auroraaa555 · 3 years

Text

“Domain expansion. Infinite void”

My current #1 Anime is Jujutsu Kaisen and I absolutely LOVE the idea of domain expansion. Particularly Gojo "Daddy" Satoru's Infinite Void. As I was watching episode 7 I found myself wanting to know what it would be like to experience Infinite Void so I decided to write a short scrip of what might be going on in Jogo's (aka. Mt. Fuji) mind at that moment. I hope you enjoy.

Uhh spoilers I guess.

It's my first time posting on here so take it easy on me and it's a rough draft so don't be too harsh :3

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

“Domain expansion. Infinite void”

Those were the last words I heard. Not even a second had passed since.

I tried to bring the Jujutsu sorcerer down, I was sure my attack had hit him and Sukuna’s vessel, but somehow not only had he stopped it but he had also laid his own domain in less than a blink of an eye. How!? What was the meaning of this!? How is his curse energy and mine on so different levels!? I HAVE TO KNOW

“Infinite void”. Those words resonate with me on a different level. I know what the six eye cursed technique was and how the limitless curse worked, this man had been blessed with both of them. I knew that since he was born yet I was naive enough to think I could take him down. I had told Geto that it would be nothing but easy work for me, after all, humans have no innate control over cursed energy as we do

“You can try, but you’ll die, Jogo” he had said. I know he is watching from some distance, Hanami is with him too, I have to make sure I stop Gojo right here, right now.

I glance up, frantically trying to make sense of what is happening, I can see how my domain is shrinking, it's getting overtaken by Gojo Satoru’s domain. He even has Sukunas vessel under his right arm, it's almost as if this is a charade for him.

Light around me flickers and turns into lines of multiple colors, I'm frozen in place, not just because of his technique but also because of the atmosphere around us, it's so dense, so powerful and so insanely destructive. light turns into darkness, the lines get longer and longer until it turns into a massive white screen of... nothing… I have been quietly watching innumerable horizons over what felt like years, it had been years right? could it be perhaps that it had only been a minute? or a second? This absolute whiteness has no direction, no up or down, no sun, no moon or clouds, no air or even a breeze, no way of telling the passing of time, just hollowness.

After a while I realized that I'm just standing on the edge of infinity. I could feel the cursed energy all around me. The whiteness is never ending, there are no colors beside this... Had the sorcerer blinded me? I tried to raise my hand, afraid of realizing that indeed I had lost my sight. To my horror I couldn't move. I knew as much since the beginning, not only that but also my legs didn't respond, I couldn't feel my heartbeat either, or even blink, my body just not … was i dead? just what the hell had happened? What kind of cursed technique had he used on me? Was his domain really that refined?

My mind is not understanding anything that's around me, there is no input of information, it's only my thoughts, and they are running wild, the prospect of being trapped in this place made me want to tear my flesh, eat my own fingers, gauge my eye, ANYTHING if it means breaking free, though, that doesn't really mean anything if i cant move.

After a while I start noticing something, there is movement! there's sound! I'm not blind! i… i … a whisper, a glimpse of color, basically undetectable but its there, somewhere. Then it hits me, i get absolutely overwhelmed by the amount of information that is just thrusted into my brain, there is just too much of everything, it doesn't stop it keeps pushing through it's like

trying to fit the whole ocean into a cup but when it resists the information just keep pushing down, there is no breaking the cup, it just keeps widening, i want to scream for it to stop, but i can't, nothing happens, just the onslaught of information.

Numbers and words simply cant convey just how much of everything there is, oh how many lives I had seen, just how many sunrises and eclipses were happening at the same time everywhere. i'm sure they were all real, even though I am still frozen in the same spot as i was, this infinite void as the sorcerer had called it is not so voidless anymore, there is so much happening, and even though to my there is no forward or backwards everything keeps moving at the speed of light

Every second is agony, the cup that is my mind has tried to explode millions of time but it keeps getting bigger and bigger, not one process is ever completed it just starts, it gives me time to understand what is happening and then it stops, just to start again, again and again. My mind is shattering. No, it has shatter many times already. No experience had prepared me for this sensation, every animal breathing, jumping, flying eating and being devoured, every human smiling, all of their suffering or success are inside my mind. I can feel millions of bites, billions of smiles, tears, eyes opening, closing, mouths saying an uncountable amount of words in all the languages that exist

“This is the inner world of limitless”

I hear the sorcerer say, even though the information was still coming, his voice was on top of everything. He put a cold hand on top of my head and smiled, i cant see him but i can somehow tell what he is doing, he is not blindfolded anymore and he is moving within this domain he seems free.

“Perception, communication, every action involved in living is forcibly carried out an infinite number of times.

He pauses for a second, that smirk of his gets bigger, i know he is looking down on me, his tone of voice is soft, like someone who is talking to a dying pet just before they pull the trigger. I don't know how, but I'm going to bring down Gojo Satoru even if it kills me!

“It's ironic isn't it? when granted everything you can't do anything but just die peacefully… but i have questions i want to ask you, so i'm letting you off the hook with this…”

The sorcerer starts grabbing my head with such force that it slowly crushes my head, unable to move, i'm trying to scream, the pressure behind my eyes is too much im totally helpless as this monster just pulls up, it feels as if the world is just spinning on this one point, it's just us, the sorcerer pulling my head, my body resisting and everything just... everything just…

A cracking noise where my spine is separating makes me get back to the ugly reality, I feel like thunder surges through my body as the sorcerer finally is able to sever my head with his hand, my body doesn't resist the pull, it just gives up and he tores not only my head but my whole column, my blood spills in every direction, but it doesn't reach him, that infinity of him stops it once again. i have been trying to understand how this works, how can he touch me

but i cant my mind is going blank … the last horrific second i can see that that the infinite void is shattering into a million pieces of glass under his feet, Sukuna’s vessel is still under Gojo’s arm, unaware of the unspeakable terror i had just been through. i start to wonder what exactly would take for someone like me to defeat this monster, Prison realm is probably not enough anymore, i … gotta… find a way…

Light starts fading …

I can spot Hanami in the distance, she has a flower in its hand. I wonder why... please just… Silence...

#jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #domain expansion #infinite void #jjk gojou #gojo satoru #satorugojo #jjk jogo

5 notes · View notes