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andoqin · 4 years ago

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K-Dramas of 2020

Well, like the general mood of 2020, the dramas this year were uh, certainly an adventure. I was going to put all the dramas I watched this year here, but uh. This turned out longer than expected so I’ll guess I’ll separate K-dramas at the very least.

Putting this behind a cut because Long.

Completed:

365: Repeat the year: I barely remember this one, but I gave it 8/10 on MDL, maybe I should lower that, because honestly all I remember are the time-travel meet up set and the main actors.

CHIP-IN: A short who-dunnit, which has interesting characters, although the show was very wise to be capped at 8 Episodes, because the “mystery” was pretty predictable and also starting to wear thin. Still, the younger cast was stellar and I hope we get to see them in more.

Diary of a Prosecutor: The cases in this drama were actually legit interesting to me and I found the politicking surprisingly not bad. People were flawed in very human ways, but the drama gave us enough time with our main characters to enjoy getting to know all of them.

Do you like Brahms: Contender for worst drama of the year for me, good lord I hated the way this tanked its story line, its characters and the romance. Is it believable that the main characters might act this way? ... Debatable. Is it entertaining to watch? Hell fucking no. Don’t watch this one, unless you like stupid misunderstandings and non communication.

Extracurricular: Short action-y show on Netflix that makes me hopeful for what Sweet Home might be.

Flower of Evil: Lee Jun Ki gets to suffer prettily. That is All. Okay Moon Chae Won and LJK were great together, but it got almost makjang-y by the end.

Hospital Playlist: Delightful Slice of Life Medical show, that despite its delightfulness never quite got me. Very enjoyable and at 12 episodes it doesn’t overstay its welcome, but it didn’t stay with me either.

Hot Stove League: Pretty entertaining and as a drama about sports management seems reasonably accurate? (Not that I’d know of course).

Hyena: Flawed as heck in some aspects (the lawyer-plotting got lulzy and boring at the same time), but oh my god some of the HOTTEST chemistry this way from sunday. Joo Ji Hoon and Kim Hye Soo just crackled anytime they were on screen together and Joo Ji Hoon as the high powered lawyer who falls head over heels in love with KHS’s character who is more reluctant to act on those feelings is just *chefs kiss*. Also didn’t suffer the Dreaded Plot Denuement of 2020 (DPD2020). Sure the latter half wasn’t as tight as the beginning, but it stuck the landing and that’s all that matters.

Into the Ring: Weird camera angles and sometimes overly sharp edited shots aside, this had a solid romance, great characters, great romance and almost made me want to get into community politics lmao.

It’s Okay Not To Be Okay (Psycho But It’s Okay): The first half of this show is just *amazing*, the way the scenes transition is pretty much film-like and the main character trio is stunningly well acted. Sadly the story with the mom is resolved in the weirdest fucking way, but the drama decides to do the smart thing and just forget about it once that’s done and the finale made me cry ;_;.

Itaewon Class: Sadly also suffered the DPD2020. I was really into the first half, loved the way the characters found support in each other, plus: a main trans character! Handled really well! Also iconic OST. I was one of the few people who was into the romance of the main couple, but the way the latter half of the plot developed was just completely nonsensical and felt like the writer was just trying to tie off the lose ends as much as possible.

Kingdom Season 2: The first season was stellar and this continues the trend! Although it doesn’t quite reach the highs of the first season I am still so looking forward to season 3! More Joseon zombies please!

Money Game: I... apparently watched this, and looking at the logo there is some vague feeling of “Yeah this is familiar”. But nothing else...

Mr. Heart: Okay-ish BL drama that has it’s cute moments but nothing that made me go “Ooooh”. I am glad SK is getting in on this trend though!

My Holo Love: So all of those Robot/AI shows that came before that I’ve seen and had the premise of “Oh no, I’ve fallen for a ROBOT” when it either turned out their object of affection was either human or actually a robot, but their human counterpart was so shitty that no sane person would like them worked pretty well for me. This one didn’t. From what I remember the heroine does very much fall for the holographic version of this guy, but the human version is *different* and yet whoops the main couple is still human/human. Granted you can’t really do romantic kiss scenes between a girl and nothing, but the switch-over felt abrupt and the way our main lady just transfers her affections to the dude never sat right to me.

Mystic Pop Up Bar: Quite a few dramas this year went with 12 eps, and were all the better for it. Hwang Jung Eum is incredibly hit or miss with me (mostly it’s miss honestly), but in this one she’s used really well and I liked the way the premise was used!

Private Lives: I recently wrote a longer post about this, but honestly another victim of terrible writing and maybe DPD2020.

Stranger 2: Love! Not as much as Season 1, but man this writer is *so* good at writing smart and interesting plots and looking at things from many different angles!

Tale of the Nine Tailed: Flawed but man do I ever love the OTP. Like really really love it. Plus it stuck the landing for me in a way few dramas did in recent months.

The School Nurse Files: So weird. So fucking weird. And yet, so very entertaining. Thanks to its short length ( I think) some plot threads felt very much unceremoniously dropped, but it has a canon lesbian couple!

The World of the Married: Makjang to the Nth degree, got kind of exhausting by the end, but Kim Hee Ae is so good.

Train: Yoon Shi Yoon gets to suffer prettily!

When the Weather is Fine: Kinda mellow and sweet and I wish I could live like the main character does (just have a bookshop in the middle of nowhere and still no money issues??? The Dream) but for that also not super memorable.

Where Your Eyes Linger: SK’s first major Webdrama I believe? Cute and as a foray into this genre not bad, but I hope this is just a taste of things to come.

Dropped:

Hi Bye, Mama: So many people loved this, I couldn’t get over the basic premise and the way my brain tried to tie the logic in this together made my head hurt. The King: Eternal Monarch: Maybe KES dramas just aren’t for me, I didn’t like the plot or the main couple. Woo Do Hwan and Kim Kyung Nam were amazing though and please please I beg both of you do more stuff.

18 Again: Nope. Lee Do Hyun is pretty, but the setup drove me bonkers and I pretty much liked no one.

Zombie Detective: Yikes no thank you. Complete mismatch of tones I wanted and the drama gave me.

Romantic Teacher Dr. Kim 2: Zzzzzzzzz. I found the first one mildly entertaining at least but this one just made me fall asleep immediately.

Black Dog: Yeah I watched like 2 Episodes of this and lost interest.

Search: I’ve watched like 6 eps and I know there’s zombies, but I couldn’t tell you much more tbh.

Start-Up: I watched 2 episodes in the beginning, didn’t think I’d want to live watch this and then just popcorned the tag until it got insufferable with the ship wars and this dropped out of my watch list pretty immediately.

Record of Youth: Pretty much the same deal as with Start-Up only in this case there wasn’t so much a shipwar as the tag showing me that this drama would *not* be my bag at all.

Still Watching:

Kairos: Hmmmm timey-wimey stuff. The FL is this close to losing me though. The fact I thought it plausible that she would murder someone just based on a TEXT from someone else says it all. (She didn’t, thank god, and seems to have found a few of her lost braincells, but by god she was frustrating).

Birthcare Center: I like what it’s trying to say and the main character and her husband are very cute, but a lot of the side characters don’t really interest me. It’s only an 8 ep drama, so I might finish this.

The Spies Who Loved Me: Honestly I’m this close to dropping it. Only my intense love for Yoo In Na and fondness for Eric are keeping me going. But she might not end up with Eric and I’m gonna be mad. Honestly if they just went OT3 I’d be really cool with this, but despite the small advancements in dramaland, they aint ready for that yet.

Lies of Lies: I watched 2 eps and I might continue (the premise seems hilariously makjang and sometimes I’m into that, but it’s *very* much on the backburner)

The Uncanny Counter: Delightful Webtoon vibe, with some great visuals and actually nice action. I’ve only seen 2 eps so far but at least they don’t want to make me poke my eyes out or make me fall asleep. Let’s hope it avoids the DPD2020 plague.

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slouchingprovocatively · 5 years ago

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saraluvstiva replied to your post “reposted gifs suck and you need to stop doing it”

Hi!! I was wondering if you could explain how someone (me) might know if we are doing this or not doing this? I know making gifs is not easy and I want to make sure I give credit and am being respectful to users who take time to make them! I also don’t know how to use gifs all that well and have noticed that my selection is very limited.

okay so @saraluvstiva asked me this and i rambled out a very bad answer in the replies lol so i’m gonna answer it again here with some pictures to demonstrate what i mean lmao words are hard i’m deep in academic description for uni i can’t make sentence

but thank you for wanting to credit people!! that’s awesome!

first, i think everyone’s totally fine with people reposting gifs as reaction gifs and not crediting the op. we all forget where reaction gifs came from, they’re just in a giant folder on our computers that we’ve had since 2010. in that case, a gif of a character sobbing on a reblog of an emotional text post or a cute gif of someone smiling under a nice ask, i think we can all say we’re pretty cool with

what’s annoying, is when people actively repost gifs as photo posts with no credit, and kinda imply they made the gif. if you don’t recognise the gif then it’s easy to mistake it for the reposter’s, rather than someone else’s that they’ve taken. it’s frustrating whether it’s one gif just posted and captioned like the reposter made the gif, or a whole hodgepodge of gifs taken from many original gifsets and squished together despite mismatching height, colour, style, etc. the worst is when someone reposts a gif with a watermark, i’m like, uh we can see that, and yet reposters and even just people who reblog it who don’t notice the watermark are like wow what a gif

in all of these, the main issue anyone has with reposting is the lack of credit. which is super easy to do!!

so, for instance:

the gif is posted as a photo post, with no credit given, and the caption implies that the reposter made the gif because they noticed the thing. even without the caption, there’s no disclaimer that the gif isn’t the reposter’s.

a nicer way to repost would be:

ie, crediting the original poster, but also making the gif part of a text post, rather than a photo post in which, say, someone reblogging and commenting “hey, that’s my gif”, can be missed due to original reblogs preceding it and the blank repost going around first (this can still happen on text posts obvs, but the person shouldn’t need to comment if they’ve been credited lol)

also, it’s so much easier to just reblog gifsets than repost them! i’m not saying this to people who occasionally post a gif uncredited i mean people i see who repeatedly repost and repost and i know they’re getting the gifs from the original blog. reblog = one button. just one. boop, it’s done. to repost means you save it, you upload it, you tag and caption and pretend it’s yours, and then you post. it’s so much effort, and often, at least i can tell right away. like, i can spot an @alyssinmymind or a @classydepablo gif in a second. they have distinct styles i can identify super quickly, so if i see their gifs coming from another blog and people are thinking the reposter made the gif, i know it’s not right.

and a final thing in terms of how you can know if someone’s reposted; if you’re not sure if a gif is a repost or not, the best thing to do is check the person’s post and look at their tags. most gifmakers use tv edit tags ie “#ncisedit”, and a personal edit tag ie “#mine” or “’#mygifs” or sometimes just an asterisk. if you’re still not sure, it’s not always a surefire way, but look at the gifs they’ve posted. if they all look similar in colour, captioning, sharpening, they’ve probably all been made by the same person; if they have variations, so, some are captioned in a totally different font, some are very smooth while some are really grainy, and they don’t have an edit tag, they’re very probably a reposter.

i hope this makes it clearer!! i said the word reposter a billion times and got a bit carried away, but truthfully, as a gifmaker it’s really frustrating to both have your stuff stolen and see other people’s stuff stolen, but as someone who also used tumblr as a complete newbie with no photoshop skills, i also reposted gifs uncredited because i wanted to contribute to the fandom and didn’t know how else to do it. and i soon realised it’s pretty sucky and the original posts have 1,000 notes there’s really no point in trying to pretend i made them lmao

anyway just

be chill, don’t repost, we’re all here for tony and ziva

#saraluvstiva #i still rambled i'm sorry!!! seriously thank you for asking and i really appreciate your effort to credit people and learn <3 #and nope i don't know where that last gif came from lmao my point about reaction images is proved

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illegiblewords · 5 years ago

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5 Questions for Writers!

5 Questions for Writers

I got tagged by @kunstpause, it looked like fun so figured I’d go for it! THANKS TO KUNST!

Tagging @wouldyouliketoseemymask, @nilim, @azwoodbomb, @peregrineroad, @frostmantle, @autumnslance, @strangefellows, @redbud-tree, @nozomikei, and @rivenroad. No obligation to anyone but full permission to steal granted to anyone else who might like to. I’ll literally be delighted if you pick this up spontaneously and blame me as an excuse lmao.

1. Do you have a favorite character to write? Who and why?

2. Do you have a favorite trope to write? Or one you want to write?

3. Share your favorite description you’ve written?

4. Share your favorite dialogue you’ve written?

5. Scene you haven’t written, but want to?

I made long answers so have a cut!

1. Do you have a favorite character to write? Who and why?

It depends heavily on what fandom and where I am mentally, but I’ve figured out I tend to love writing angsty lameass dudes with blonde hair who are prone to doing really silly things despite taking themselves entirely too seriously. Honestly, I have a pretty huge track record at this point. Harvey Dent, Vexen, Dmitri, Lahabrea, probably more besides. Every one of them fits the right balance of lameass to angst. I like seeing them grow and find fulfillment as people and they are very very cute while still having an edge of badassery and cleverness. Also they’re funny.

Lahabrea is my favorite at the moment, and him reaching that position is an accomplishment considering how stiff the competition is in FFXIV. Loser tricked his way to the top while I was busy laughing at him.

2. Do you have a favorite trope to write? Or one you want to write?

I really, really, really love redemption arcs and people recovering from fucked up experiences. Latter case especially I love seeing characters in those situations successfully connect to the people and world around them, especially if they get to grow together with a partner. I also LOVE “hero saves the villain and villain takes it to heart”.

(You may be sensing a theme here haha.)

There are a few reason these concepts resonate with me, the first being I think they’re really hopeful, inspiring, and something I always wanted to see growing up but rarely did.

People fuck up in life. People get hurt in horrible ways that bring out the worst in them. Sometimes when that happens they dig themselves deeper and deeper into ugliness. The more a person’s bad side comes out, the more hopeless it can feel. And for mental illness especially I’ve found this can be a major issue.

Everyone makes mistakes and everyone has flaws, but I think there’s something really significant in seeing someone who has hit rock bottom, who can no longer imagine a way out, get offered a hand for support and take it. While recovery and redemption (not synonymous of course) ultimately need to be carried by the individual struggling, I really can’t understate how important it is to know in those situations that you’re not alone and someone believes in you.

I think a big part of why this theme is important to me is because mental illness, both genetic and due to trauma, is something unbelievably difficult and painful not only for the sufferer but those around them. The most mentally ill characters in fiction tend to be villains, and are disproportionately more likely to be suffering severe trauma. It frustrated me since I was pretty young to see over and over again cases where a mess could have been avoided if there was any support system in place.

Seeing compassion and connection given that kind of power means a lot to me, as does recognizing that villains are people before they are villains. It’s also very reassuring in the sense of “If this person fucked up that badly but still tried to better themself, I can too. And odds are I’m also worthy of love and compassion, even when my issues make things harder for others. I just have to keep working to improve.”

3. Share your favorite description you’ve written?

Eff.

Straight up I think I’ve written too much to have just one favorite description. It’s been a lot of years and I have hundreds of fics and I’m lame. So I’m going to put a few of my favs.

Anytime there’s a gap in block quotes it’s a different section within the same fic.

22 - A Batman Fanfic

He trembles beneath the weight of their expectations but his smile never fades flashes before cameras microphones under his nose crowds screaming questions bleeding together he answers like clockwork the District Attorney who must bring justice to us all paying tribute to false idols with golden hair and silver tongues we the people bow down in worship to this guardian of the law with words and deeds I believe in Harvey Dent so he swears in hallowed halls to bring prosperity to smite the wicked to damn the criminal with authority invested in him by Gotham’s dutiful children and himself.

***

On the precipice of victory we stand united our voice raised like a torch like a spear like a golden arrow against the beast of Lerna we are gods and monsters we are so much more than good and evil we are order in the court cauterizing corruption our head held high and mighty manifest in Harvey of the doubletalk Harvey who writes himself into the fabric of Gotham’s history Harvey who will not bend before the Roman we command you the unworthy we condemn you the unrighteous we will not be merciful and you will fall before our eyes.

***

I am Dionysus divided at the altar of Tyche O Fortuna O Fortuna give me guidance in the light of the moon you dance sacred silver dollar I see and obey the wax and wane your whim Wheel of Fortune the card I am dealt your servant your slave venerated puppet of flesh blessed is your wisdom bestowed upon I am your disciple wine-mad twisted chanting your word becomes law holy splendor against gavels desecrating your name defiant in denial extend your will through me and we shall strike the innocent enlighten the ignorant or spare them all for now.

Doppelganger - A Spider-Man Fanfic

She asks him to tell the story of himself, and like Scheherazade he begins anew each day.

As with many other things, this comparison is imperfect. The Ravencroft Institute is hardly a palace and neither of them could pass for royalty. She sits in a chair across from him over a carpet the color of sawdust. Her walls are lined with insects pinned on display. Not many butterflies, quite a few beetles. On a bookshelf Dmitri sees The Metamorphosis nestled between non-fiction texts more relevant to her profession. He thinks maybe it's an inside joke she has with herself, but doesn't say so.

He's received an invitation to call her Ashley instead of Dr. Kafka and doesn't know whether to accept. It might be to make him more comfortable. It might be something else. In her late fifties Kafka is built from delicate features, and he suspects the lines around her eyes mean they crinkle when she smiles. Short black hair, beige suit, only jewelry a pair of diamond stud earrings. Dmitri thinks she looks like a mother, but not his.

Her weight sinks into leather, darker than the floor. The couch he rests on matches. He finds himself leaning forward with one elbow propped on his thigh, the other locked in a cast suspended by his neck. There is something reassuringly empty in the gray fabric of his uniform, cheap and utilitarian and harmless. Dmitri’s wrists are thin, but then he's lost a lot of weight recently. He probably wouldn't be able to run as fast as he used to, but then circumstances would be the same anywhere he went so that really doesn't matter. His espionage days are over. His free arm is shedding in flakes but at least his skin is dry. Clean.

Dmitri no longer looks like anyone, unrecognizable to himself. A face without much in the way of edges, short nose. Weak chin. Mismatched eyes that shift between green and blue and brown and every other natural hue as moments pass into minutes pass into hours. Dark blotches interrupt his forehead and chin. They will peel in new patterns across a span of days. For the most part though, he is pale enough to trace veins where his body seems on the brink of spilling out.

It's been a while since he shaved his head and the hair that grows back is almost foreign. An unruly mess of black, blond, brunet, and red—strands as unlike in texture as anything else. The mask that made him Chameleon was white plastic embedded with hardware. Left deformed after trying to resemble others in flesh too many times, it allowed him to duplicate any face, any body he could remember. More than holograms, the most complete sensory illusions technology could perform.

Without it, Dmitri feels stripped.

When Kafka looks at him she’s receiving constant signals and missing none of them. The moments he needs to turn away, flat monosyllabic turns of phrase he chooses or resorts to or blankly accepts as his own. It doesn’t have to be this way. It isn’t comfortable and he doesn’t even trust it’s not calculated. But she’s going to notice no matter what he does at this point, and lying about it doesn’t do anyone much good. They both know why he’s here.

***

“We were poor. We worked hard to keep ourselves fed and clothed and less than an embarrassment. I probably could have worked harder. Mother,” he begins before stumbling over himself.

The story he’s telling isn’t hers. Whatever else she was, Sonya Smerdyakov wasn’t Mrs. Bates. He remembers her voice as the beginning of an echo, forever following someone else’s lead.

And so he followed her.

She was bright like a light going out. She was gentle without being kind. Her fingers were short and delicate and she touched him as little as possible. He found her attention in the way she avoided his name.

***

In the privacy of his room, Dmitri began talking to himself.

Celebrities. Teachers. Children. The flat, steady rhythm of his father’s voice. The words and intonations favored by mother. Sergei’s laugh. He lost himself in a fantasy of conversations, strode through space to mimic confidence he didn’t feel, flashed teeth in front of his mirror like other people.

Once, Dmitri raised his voice. And when his older brother came, eyebrows knitting in confusion, he found himself full of stammered explanations, hands fumbling at his elbows, stumbling over his tongue to make sense of it.

Just making stories for himself. A game with no ending. That was all.

***

He would have died in that town under the eyes of speechless parents. Dmitri remembers the confusion that took his peers when he found a job for people who spoke for themselves. They thought he might be growing up.

He could lie. And when he began he understood it would always be a game with no ending.

Dmitri lost himself in a fantasy of conversations with real people and a voice that didn’t belong to him.

They asked a stranger to sign their yearbooks without even realizing it.

And then he was eighteen, and he left to continue elsewhere.

He didn’t announce his departure.

From Umbra - A Final Fantasy XIV Fanfic

It was probably a dream.

Lukewarm water crept down his throat, nearly making him choke. A skin pressed to his lips, insistent. He coughed, and for the first time there was moisture enough for resistance.

The face that obscured his vision was shrouded in white cloth. Cenric found he couldn’t focus on it. Mismatched eyes, one light and the other dark. Impossible to say if blindness caused the inconsistency.

A string of shells dangled from the figure’s neck, rattling gently. The skin pulled back for a moment. Careful. Patient.

It returned only once he'd grown quiet. Cenric drank for as long as he could. Impossibly, a great deal remained by the time he relinquished his hold.

There wasn't enough of him present to say thank you. Cenric barely registered being dragged, being carried onto a cart. Awareness was altogether gone by the time they started to move.

***

…to the blessed traders who enrich our lives we’re bound to pay with our lives in turn aether born fire-walker your will sees us to rest we entrust ourselves to your sight forged of oschon for peace and prosperity and an ending you do not weep for father azeyma lives in the earth with you her fan brings no breeze the air is hot and thick and breathless your domain a silent place that does not stir have you forgotten the sound of your own voice have you known what it is to live and fail have you been alone do you know what it is to die how can a god pass judgment without being judged nald’thal lord of departures of flame and sand whose coin purse overflows who knows not what it means to starve what it means to spoil the legacy of one who loved you nald’thal who holds shells and souls and precious stones as if their worth were equal nald’thal who cannot know mercy without knowing pain who are you to weigh mortal affairs?

***

In darkness he unwinds the black bandana, steps first from his slops and then his kurta. Yuyudana has provided robes, which rest neatly on a small rock nearby. It crosses Cenric’s mind that the bones of his knees, his hips, his wrists, even his face have all started to protrude strangely. He looks less hyuran than before, maybe less than he ever has. Closer to something priests would exorcise than anyone deserving aid.

He wonders if this idea has occurred to them.

The water, when he advances, is cold. Goosebumps raise across his skin as slowly, gingerly, he wades in to his waist.

Cenric ducks under.

His hair is a long and tangled wreck. Being wet only disguises this slightly. It drifts past his neck, comes to float near the surface. Cenric holds himself in silence, eyes open, watching the silver scatter of light over stones and plants and fish. He remains for as long as he can bear.

His vision stings afterward. Gasping, he can’t tell if the cause is exposure or something else. For a time he simply waits, breathing hard through his nose, hunched so that his lips are partially submerged.

He thinks of nothing, pretends that this time instead of no future he has no past.

Only one moon remains. Maybe the sky aches for losing Dalamud, but better that than the blow which scarred Eorzea.

Stalemate - A Final Fantasy XIV Fanfic

He is presented with impressions of a horse, gaunt and fetid and decayed. Spreading ruin wheresoever it goes. Occasionally it sloughs off portions of its own flesh, which collect flies and blacken any land that surrounds. On its back rests a world, and alongside it does the herd struggle under their own burdens. But even beasts of such endurance have limits. Theirs are reached. When the rotten steed lags, its companions cannot afford to falter. Cannot turn. Without its ability to bear loads, this aberration has no place. Falling is inevitable.

Yet a heart still beats and lungs yet swell.

The Ascian shivers in his grasp, but does not attempt escape.

Here, something festers. Something bleeds. An old wound exacerbated over time.

Fevered, coated in a film of self-disgust, the core of Lahabrea convulses.

Don’t…

Don’t leave me like this…

***

Teeth and tongue. Lingering, wet, disembodied. Another finds his hip. Another his thigh, slipping beneath what clothes remain.

And another.

Warm, human, seeking. The Warrior tightens his hold, uses the moan crawling from his own chest as incentive. Barred by naught but fabric, driving close as he can manage. Lahabrea makes a strangled sound, his gasp crushed empty. A new mouth finds the dark knight’s ear in response.

These are parts of him no one dares touch, no one dares acknowledge. Slick now, attended with something like reverence. Supplication.

He resolves to fuck the Ascian senseless for this, presses his intent deep into Lahabrea’s aether. He is going to steal all his fancy words away. Make him squirm.

“I… I…” Tight, airless, like a plucked string. The Warrior feels Lahabrea’s voice reverberate against the roof of his mouth.

The feeling is difficult to describe. Cracked ice. A fraying rope. Such is Lahabrea's response, fumbling and disoriented as it is.

The Warrior lets go.

4. Share your favorite dialogue you’ve written?

Just imagine me weeping over here lmao. Same deal as before, I’VE DONE TOO MUCH SHIT.

Spare Change - A Batman Fanfic

"Stop," he gasps, "I wouldn’t—"

"You would Harvey. You did. It’s what makes you such a damn good instrument. You had to test yourself, prove that you’re not a real person.” He can feel fingers grinding against bone. His knees bend. Harvey kneels, shuddering, gazing up into the destruction of his own visage. Two-Face meets his eyes, blue on blue. “People are weak. People are ruled by what they want and don’t want. You’re capable of anything if the wind blows just right. You can’t even stop yourself.”

"I wouldn’t," he repeats, numbly.

"Did you," demands Two-Face, forcing him down further, "or did you not flip for their lives, Harvey Dent?"

"We…We aren’t the same people anymore."

"Of COURSE we’re the same people!" Another shove and he’s on the ground, Two-Face sitting on his chest, teeth bared, coin clenched tight between them. "Do you really think you can close your eyes and pretend you aren’t capable of these things? They’re alive," and there is something hideous in his expression, something certain, "because they were lucky. No other reason.”

"The coin is gone! Even if I wanted to listen to it—I can’t!”

"If you’re so sure," says Two-Face, "then how about you improvise?”

And with one motion the silver dollar is under his tongue, forced back so hard he feels himself gag and begin to choke before his eyes open.

The Inquisitor’s Letters - A Dragon Age: Inquisition Fanfic

To His Worship Inquisitor Mahanon Lavellan of Skyhold, My name is Isell from Amaranthine and I’m seven. My mum is helping but says I can send you all by myself. Thank you for fixing the hole in the sky and also the one by the dead man’s house. There were demons but they’re mostly gone now and people are going outside now. Da says Amaranthine has been through too much and can survive anything and he says you’re an elf like us and the Hero of Ferelden was an elf too. He says people used to think elves can’t be heroes but now they don’t. Have you met the Hero of Ferelden? Also I heard that even though you’re Dalish Andraste helped you in the Fade and that humans let you be in the Chantry because anyone Andraste likes must be a really good person. What’s Andraste like? The Chant says a lot but it’s different meeting someone I think. Also I think I saw you a little before but Mum wasn’t sure because you had a helmet on and we were far away and there were a lot of people but I bet it was you. Da wasn’t sure I should write because he says the Dalish don’t like city elves like we are but I think you must be nice and Mum agrees with me. I’ve been playing demon hunters with my brother Arrion (he’s just five still) and Da said templars are who fights demons usually and elves can’t be templars. People thought elves couldn’t be heroes and inquisitors though and we are so I bet I could too. Is it hard fighting demons? Da says they’re real scary but I’m not scared. Thank you for helping us and everyone and I hope you kill lots of demons. Sincerely, Isell U’venlan

From Umbra - A Final Fantasy XIV Fanfic

Cenric sits on the floor, draped in a white cotton tunic. It might have been snug on a Roegadyn but anyone else would find ample room. Behind him, Memesu stands on a cot holding shears. Gold earrings dangle on either side of her face.

“I fought at Carteneau, you know,” she mentions casually. There is a soft hsssssshhhh. Click.

Hair hits the floor. Coils.

He starts to shake his head, aborts the gesture partway through. Stills. “…you saw Bahamut?”

Memesu snorts. “I’m sure everyone this side of Hydaelyn saw Bahamut.” Click.

“That’s probably true,” he concedes. The dragon is what everyone knows, everyone remembers. He can't imagine the proximity. “What about the Warriors of Light?”

“Pff.” Gentle tugging at his scalp. Cenric does not open his eyes but leans into the motion. “I wasn’t of rank to see their like. Not that I’d remember. Stop moving.” Click.

Cenric hesitates.

“What do you remember, then?”

For a time, the only sound comes from blades and a thousand strands cut short. This lasts for several minutes. Cenric resigns himself to secrets.

Then, “I used to think I was special too. As a twin. My sister was Memeni. We studied together.”

Was.

The exhale hits him slowly, quietly.

“She died?”

He can feel the shrug in her hip against his shoulder.

“It was Carteneau,” says Memesu. “Of course she died.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Click. “It had nothing too do with you. If you keep trying to claim responsibility for every misfortune you find, you’re going to get self-important.”

Cenric only grunts, quiet and non-committal.

Click.

“Carteneu was so much worse than people remember. Only four years later and already we hurry to dispose of details.” There is a hard undercurrent to Memesu’s voice, but what contact she makes remains light. Careful. “I remember the arcanist from Limsa who didn’t dodge a magitek canon in time. Miqo’te. Spells come faster in that discipline, so there’s less stress on distance than thaumaturgy. Girl got careless.” Click. “The mess smelled like rotten eggs and charcoal. Her face was… melted.” Click. “I try not to look in those situations. They only make casting harder. But she was so close.”

Cenric doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word.

Memesu continues. “One of our own gladiators, an Ala Mhigan, took to mutilating any pureblooded Garleans he could catch. The man had a string of eyes hanging around his neck. I’m pretty sure one enemy officer wet himself before he started to beg. Not that it particularly mattered.”

Click.

“Memeni… didn’t anticipate what she was getting herself into. She saw magic as a way of being useful to craftsmen. My focus has always been theoretical. Right side.” Startled, Cenric lets her guide his jaw to get a better view of his profile. Click. Click. “Meni used to think I was a priss. She preferred to develop magitek kettles alongside alchemists. See if she could find a way to capture light like the Mhachi did. She still enjoyed fishing when she could, even though it smelled awful. Never outgrew the braids she wore growing up. ” Memesu sighs. “…just understand she died afraid, in pain, and with things left undone. My sister didn’t even resemble herself at the end.”

Cenric is very still. Thinks carefully.

“…I wish it could have gone differently,” he says at last.

Memesu’s mouth slides up in a small, crooked smile. She tousles the neat, ear-length hair before her. “So do I.”

Eclipse - A Final Fantasy XIV Fanfic

It ends at Elidibus’ untimely arrival.

“Lord Zodiark,” he says, so smoothly that were he not searching for it that the anger would be undetectable, “appreciates your attentions.” His gaze does not waver from Lahabrea as he speaks. “But there is work to be done and I’m afraid there are words I would have with your Speaker.”

They disperse.

Nabriales, careful and curious, folds himself out of sight beyond the chamber then makes his way back to its edge.

Lahabrea, farthest from the exit, attempts to steal some small dignity. Turns to face Elidibus.

The Emissary makes him wait. Expressionless red masks matched by those who wear them.

Then, with more speed and force than typical for his demeanor, the Emissary closes distance to trap his colleague against the wall.

“It was my error,” hisses Elidibus, leaning in, “to have stayed silent upon rescuing you. A mistake I will remedy now, so we can be on no uncertain terms.”

Lahabrea lowers his eyes. Nabriales notes that despite the dread they all share of such reprimands, the man does not brace.

“You know as well as I that these words offer less succor to our Lord than action,” continues Elidibus, his fury quiet and no less sharp for that, “just as we both know your thoughtless action is the cause of repeated missteps these past centuries. Make no mistake—for all the strides you’ve made, your fixation and your impatience have cost the rest of us considerable time.”

Silence.

“Do you truly think this is your best service to Him?” asks Elidibus. “To us? Compromising your ability to fill the hours? Even Emet-Selch agrees these displays are disgraceful. You have ever borne them poorly, but being a 'paragon among paragons' naturally you continue ignoring your own better judgment with ours to continue this exercise in futility. Idiot.”

A twitch of the head. Almost a flinch.

It is one of few moments Nabriales has seen the Emissary express his anger so openly. Even after the Thirteenth fell to Igeyorhm’s error, Elidibus allowed the Angel of Truth to lead and voiced his own reproach with a more typical icy demeanor. Scathing though it was.

“I can be of use,” says Lahabrea softly. “Only three of us remain, and I—“

“You,” Elidibus snaps, “cannot follow the most simple instructions for the good of us all. Not for Him, not for Amaurot, not even for yourself. Your pride has made you not simply an embarrassment but a liability.”

Neither man speaks for several moments after that.

And then, at length, Elidibus exhales.

Says the Speaker’s name.

Receives his attention.

“What would you have me do?” the Emissary asks. His tone now is almost weary. “Clearly it would be unreasonable to trust you’d simply listen. Must I mind you like a child?” This is what breaks Lahabrea’s composure.

Knowing the man’s temper, Nabriales had expected him to lash out. Even on the back foot their orator is perfectly capable of defending himself from insults.

Instead, he embraces Elidibus fiercely—face just within the bounds of his pauldrons. Jaw locked shut firmly enough to hurt. Expression downcast.

Elidibus remains perfectly still at first. In the absence of conversation it is possible to hear the rush of Lahabrea’s breathing. Only through the nose, withheld briefly between each inhale as if that offers some means to steady himself.

As if that would make it better.

Tentatively, Elidibus holds him back. Lahabrea's fingers contract, and though he remains upright when his knees begin to give it is the Emissary who helps him kneel.

“Easy,” he murmurs, and Lahabrea removes one hand to run it reflexively over his face—coming against the mask.

Nabriales finds himself staring, searching. A puzzle with missing pieces whose image he may yet divine

“It was not,” says Lahabrea roughly, “my intention to…”

Elidibus reaches beneath the other man’s cowl, finds the hair and skin beneath. Draws him in once more.

Naught that would be shared with or among the Sundered. Nothing so personal as that.

Nabriales has worn his own share of flesh. Bedded lovers, adopted companions and families of vessels to fulfill a purpose. Passable enough, perhaps, but never for him. Not in truth.

It’s as if he looks upon two strangers.

Parched - A Final Fantasy XIV Fanfic

The door closes behind them. Lahabrea, projecting his preferred likeness over the host, waits on a couch within.

It’s admittedly a surreal sight. Ishgardian finery with its gilded edges, its elaborate wallpapers and marble floors. A collection of creams and blues and greens, fine furniture with velvet seat cushions. All ostentatious in the extreme… and then Lahabrea. Masked and cowled. Pouring three glasses of La Noscean arrack.

Elidibus freezes, and though none of them can see his eyes the confusion is clear enough.

“What is this?”

“Your turn,” says Emet-Selch, lightly but less flippant than he might have been.

Lahabrea proffers a cup from where he sits.

Elidibus neither moves nor speaks.

Emet-Selch approaches. Takes the drink. Presses it carefully into the other man’s hand.

“Don’t think,” he says smoothly,” that I won’t let you drop it.”

Mercifully, Elidibus has a good grip.

“Sit,” says Lahabrea, gesturing with his own glass to the sofa across from him.

Elidibus sits.

Emet-Selch sits.

Takes his own glass, perhaps a bit pointedly.

Elidibus’ mouth is pressed tight. It opens briefly, as if to speak. Shuts again.

“Explain,” the Emissary manages eventually.

Lahabrea meets his co-conspirator’s eye. Downs his arrack in a single attempt.

It is a long attempt.

It lasts several moments.

The other Ascians watch.

“Elidibus,” says Emet-Selch as Lahabrea endeavors to catch his breath in the aftermath, “Lahabrea and I are concerned that you may be experiencing some difficulties in recent years.”

“I’m fine,” replies Elidibus coldly. Holding his drink. “Why did you think this necessary?”

“Because—“ wheezes Lahabrea.

“Because you’re practically a mammet,” says Emet-Selch, picking up Lahabrea’s glass. Moving it just out of reach. “Truly. It’s been what, two hundred years? Three? Neither of us can remember the last time you so much as spoke of matters unrelated to the Rejoining.”

Lahabrea reaches. Elidibus pours his arrack into the other man’s glass before nudging it back toward him.

Elidibus makes eye contact with Emet-Selch.

“I remain focused,” he says evenly. “Nothing more.”

Emet-Selch gestures to the bottle.

Elidibus sighs.

Refills his own glass.

“There are matters I must attend myself. As is the case with each of you.”

“Undoubtedly,” replies Lahabrea more evenly. “But with few exceptions, you haven’t done so.”

A hard stare from behind the mask.

“What would you have me do? I can’t very well take time off.”

Emet-Selch sips.

“A negligible amount of time,” he says, “taken sparingly, may be forgivable.”

5. Scene you haven’t written, but want to?

Lmao see this is a plus side/minus side deal. Minus side, it’s being asked just before I embark on a MASSIVE ASS FANFIC. And I basically am excited for all of it. Plus side, there are things I refuse to spoil.

So... putting it vaguely, in no particular order:

- Lahabrea and Hydaelyn meet a second time after Praetorium.

- Moonfire Faire

- Thancred

- Conversations over mulled wine

- Silvertear Lake

Some of these are sex scenes. Most aren’t. But I am very hyped.

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battingonjakku · 5 years ago

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Thank you for the tag @silverkasienka !

1. what is the colour of your hair brush? black

2. name of a food you never eat? bananas. cannot stand them at all, will try and leave the room when someone eats one.

3. are you typically too warm or too cold? COLD. have turned into my granny as I’ve gotten older, sitting here with 3/4 layers on and a blanket in the winter. I’m a little old lady.

4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago? playing Zelda

5. what’s your favourite candy bar? dairy milk oreo probably, love a milky bar too

6. have you ever been to a professional sports event? yup! 99% cricket, also saw the tennis at the 2012 Olympics (and I was gonna go to Wimbledon this year, siighh)

7. what is the last thing you said out loud? constantly working on lyrics at the moment so I think it was ‘there’ll be other sunny days’ which sounds very cliche

8. what is your favourite ice cream? raspberry ripple or salted caramel I think

9. what is the last thing you had to drink? apple squash

10. do you like your wallet? yeah

11. what was the last thing you ate? homemade cornish pasty for lunch yass

12. did you buy any new clothes last week? nah

13. last sporting event you watched? rewatched the 2019 WC final last week. live was I think Liverpool v Atletico

14. what’s your favourite flavour of popcorn? sweet and salty. or maybe just butterscotch.

15. who was the last person you sent a message to? sent a photo of Isla to my auntie

16. ever go camping? once. that was enough.

17. do you take vitamins? nah

18. do you go to church every sunday? nah, work in one though so I tend to be there every day but sunday haha

19. do you have a tan? lmao no

20. do you prefer chinese food or pizza? how can you make me choose

21. do you drink soda with a straw? no

22. what colour socks do you wear? any colour, tend to have ones with cute patterns on until I realised I need some plainish black ones to look better for work. and I have gray slipper socks on a lot too.

23. do you ever drive above the speed limit? gave up on driving

24. what terrifies you? uhhhh most things.

25. look to your left what do you see? a guitar

26. what chore do you hate? ironing

27. what do you think of when you hear an australian accent? (saying) stoinis

28. what’s your favourite soda? love a coca cola

29. do you go into fast food places or drive thru? not that often but sometimes get a cheeky maccy ds whilst I’m in London

30. who was the last person you talked to? mum

31. favourite cut of beef? I know nothing about cuts tbh

32. last song you listened to? Love Thing by Spice Girls

33. last book you read? think the last one I finished was Chocolat by Joanne Harris, near the end of David Copperfield though and it’s v long so that’s been going on a while

34. can you say the alphabet backwards? yea I think, I’m really strong at saying it back from G though because of this weird exercise I did when I started learning guitar

35. how do you like your coffee? iced

36. favourite pair of shoes? red patent docs

37. the time you normally go to bed? aim for 11 at the latest, different with not working though so it varies

38. the time you normally wake up? currently 7.30/8ish, when I’m working it’s 5.30/6 depending on my start time

39. what do you prefer sunrise or sunsets? idk rly, both are good

40. how many blankets are on your bed? duvet and a patchwork quilt depending on how cold I am

41. describe your kitchen plates? mismatched

42. do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage? GIN

43. do you play cards? nah

44. what colour is your car? never got that far

45. can you change a tire? hahahaha

46. your favourite province? counties in this case I guess? Cornwall

47. favourite job you’ve had? probably my current one, I’m pretty happy rn and it’s the first time I’ve had real job security so that helps. my work placement in a collection was awesome though and that is what I really wanna do

48. how did you get your biggest scar? I have two burn scars on my right wrist, each done the day before my graduations, each done taking pizza out of the oven. only times I have burnt myself doing that.

49. what did you do today that made someone happy? guitar playing

well that was fun, thank you! been a while since I’ve done one. won’t tag anyone so no pressure but do it if you want to!

#ask memes #random personal shit

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hanalwayssolo · 6 years ago

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Between The Phrases and Pages

A/N: Back at it again! This time I return with my obvious bias lmao

Tagging some pals! @raspberryandechinacea @noboomoon @emmydots @bleucommelhiver @gowithme @hanatsuki89 @valkyrieofardyn @animakupo@lazarustrashpit @blindedstarlight @mp938368 @boo-dangy (i have 6 more remaining in the series, so to anyone interested to get tagged, lmk!)

Today marks your seventh visit in Once Upon A Page, and Gladio could not resist watching you read his copy of e.e. cummings’ Erotic Poems with clinical concentration.

He tries to imagine what page of the book you are reading. Are you, perhaps, somewhere in the first half of As We Lie Side By Side? “I shove hotly the lovingness of my belly against you,” reads the first couple of lines in the poem. “Do not laugh at my thighs. There is, between my legs, a crisp city. When you touch me, it is spring in the city; the streets beautifully writhe, it is for you.” Funny how Gladio still has it memorized. He can recite the words by heart, even if each line has been soiled by the memory of the nights he made love to his wife—or his ex-wife, rather. The prefix still pricks like a barbed wire at the tip of his tongue.

Gladio dismisses the horrible thought and chooses to study your face instead. From his cash register counter, he observes you sitting on one of the couches in the reading nook. He can see no sign on your blank face for any sort of reaction. Nowhere in the focused gaze of your eyes nor in the firm line of your lips can he tell what’s on your mind. He can spy a tiny tinge of pink on your face, and it might as well be from the heat of this blistering summer’s day. He’s dying to know what your thoughts are on the poem. In fact, he’s been dying to figure you out ever since you bought books of different genres in the last couple of days you have dropped by his bookstore. One day, it’s all fantasy and science fiction with A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms by George R. R. Martin and the rest of the books in The Broken Earth series by N. K. Jemisin; then the next, a couple of pastel-covered contemporary romance from authors he could hardly recognize. Two days later, you returned to purchase even heavier reads: Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand and Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace—both of which, personally, Gladio found a bit boring for his tastes. He had to admit that you did pique his curiosity when you picked up copies of Delta of Venus by Anaïs Nin, The Wild Iris by Louise Glück, and War of the Foxes by Richard Siken one lazy Saturday afternoon, or that particular weekend you bought all of John Green’s and Rainbow Rowell’s books—effectively shattering his speculation whether or not you’re into young adult fiction. But what truly earned you his admiration was that time you spent one Sunday evening glued to one of the reading corners, dedicatedly poring over Henruit’s Silence of Knowledge. That book is and will always be his personal favourite, and seeing you read it with the spark of enjoyment in your eyes filled him with a pleasant satisfaction.

As far as Gladio can tell at this point, the only thing he knows about you for sure is this: you certainly love books. There’s no doubt about it. Each of your visits never fail to keep him on his toes. What book are you going to buy next? What genre will you be obsessing over? The more you visit, the more Gladio is keen to know you. But what should he say to you? Usually, he can charm his customers with a simple “Hello, that’s a nice pick for today,” or “How did your last read go?” to make small talk, one that eventually leads to an often interesting discussion about their favourite books. With you, it seems whatever charm or charisma he believes he carries in himself ceases to exist. The first time he had tried to make conversation with you, you only smiled at him and left with your purchase without saying a word. His next attempts were a tongue-tied mess, as if you have been designed to cripple his confidence. But this time, he wants to try again. He wants to learn more about you. He wants to learn what specifically tickles your fancy, what turns you on—

“Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?” Gladio barely notices Iris sidling up to him, one elbow propped on the counter and one eyebrow raised in jest. “You know, you can go up there and say hello.”

Gladio scoffs. “And disturb them away from their read? I don’t think so.”

“So you’re just going to watch them like some creeper, huh.” Iris casts him a withering look.

Gladio, however, remains unaffected. Evenly, he says, “I’m not being a creeper, it’s called people-watching—”

“Did I hear that right? Gladio is back on his creeping business?” Prompto bursts in from the back of the shop armed with a box of newly delivered books. Behind him, Noctis is shaking his head, laughing.

“Like I said—” Gladio sighs in exasperation, tries to make his tone less defensive— “I am not creeping—”

“Sure, whatever you say, big guy.” Noctis pats him on the back, a snarky smile on his face. Prompto and Iris laugh. Somehow, Gladio is relieved that Ignis is off busily tending the café counter on the other side, else all four of them would have easily tore him to shreds with their endless stream of annoying banter.

Nevertheless, Gladio loves this banter all the same. He’s happy to have these four troublemakers by his side. Once Upon A Page would have remained a pipe dream if not for the encouragement of his sister, the constant support of his three best friends, and of course, the sage counsel of his father. At thirty-five, running a bookstore was never a part of his long term plan; Gladio thought that by this age, he would finally reach the zenith of some ideal adulthood: a stable job, a nice house in the suburbs, a loving wife to always come home to. Those things, simple as they may be, have always been part of his grand aspirations in life. But the last two years had all been a merciless undoing, as if his life was pulling a loose thread, happening stitch by stitch: first came his ex-wife’s betrayal and the subsequent collapse of their marriage, then came losing his job after a company merger, quickly followed by his father’s battle with cancer. Everything that held him together came undone so ruthlessly. He had no choice but to rebuild himself from the jagged shards of his broken life, and rebuild himself he did. Painstakingly, rigorously, until his old self became a shadow of the man he had once been.

Somehow, opening this bookstore became Gladio’s saving grace. Each nook and cranny of this shop, he had meticulously laboured and designed out of his rekindled love for books: the rows of mahogany shelves stretching from floor to ceiling, all packed with numerous titles of both old and new; the cozy reading corners draped in beaded curtains and fairy lights, decorated in the casual glory of mismatched furniture; the humble café on the opposite side of the cash register, one that housed tiered pastry stands to showcase Iris’s delectable desserts, and the expensive espresso machine Gladio had received on his wedding day—something his ex-wife refused to take and one he gladly kept—that Ignis now used to brew his signature coffee blends. There’s a platform with a mic stand on the other side, a tiny island surrounded with technicolour bean bags that hosted many of Prompto’s spoken word literary nights. In this small and quaint space, every spot is perfumed by the crisp aroma of coffee, every corner incensed by the smell of old books. Gladio never imagined that he would be owning this beauty of a sanctuary with his closest friends, and now, he could only be grateful for the tumultuous ups and downs of his life. Because now, he couldn’t dare imagine trading this bookstore for anything else.

Iris yanks the sleeve of Gladio’s shirt. “Hey, Gladdy—”

“What?” Gladio says snappily, narrowing his eyes at his sister. Noctis has drifted to the café to help out Ignis serving coffee to a group of sleepless college students huddled on the long table, while Prompto has himself occupied with the inventory.

Iris stares at Gladio, as if he hasn’t been paying close attention. She jerks her head in front of the counter. “Uh, a customer?”

Gladio turns to see you standing by the cash register, watching his brief exchange with Iris. The heat of embarrassment rises to his cheeks.

“Oh, hi,” Gladio says with a nervous smile. He mentally punches himself in the face for making a fool out of himself in front of you. “Uh, sorry about that. How can I help you?”

You shake your head, offering him a kind smile in return. “No, it’s alright. Um, so—” you sweep a hand over your hair, all the while gingerly sliding the copy of e.e. cummings’ Erotic Poems over the counter— “do you happen to have a new stock of this book?”

Iris leans over and checks the title. Startlingly, she turns to Gladio and says, “Hey, isn’t this your own copy—”

“Nope,” Gladio says sternly. He shoots her a deadly glare; Iris shrugs it off. Of course his sister would notice that. It’s only a matter of time before she figures out that he’d been purposely selling the books gifted to him by his ex-wife by hiding it with the rest of their sale.

“Is it true?” you ask. There is no judgment on your face, only a genuine expression of curiosity.

“Uh, yeah. Long story,” Gladio says, rubbing the back of his neck. He clears his throat and asks, “How did you like it?”

“I love it, actually.” A shy smile and a faint blush spreads across your face, and Gladio swears that for a moment, he forgets how to breathe at the sight of it. “It’s… sensual. The author has his way with words.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” he says, nodding in agreement. “In any case, since my sister had me busted, you can have it. Free of charge.”

You wave a hand. “Oh, no I don’t think I can—”

“No, it’s fine.” Gladio smiles, sliding the book back to you. “You’ve been coming here and buying a lot of books, and you’ve been keeping my sales up. So, yeah. Consider this a gift. I insist.”

You consider Gladio for a moment. The way you are looking at him right now—lips slightly parted, eyes searching in disbelief—sends his heart racing at an alarming speed. Eventually, you say, “Okay. Thank you. It’s weird, this reminds me of that scene in this Disney film—”

“You mean the one from Beauty and The Beast? Where Belle gets a book from her local bookshop?” Iris chimes in, still watching both you and Gladio with brimming amusement.

“Yes, that’s it.” You laugh, and Gladio watches your face brighten into a bubbling radiance. If your smile had his lungs forget how to function, your laughter might have killed him right then and there.

Iris laughs, too. “I think it’s quite apt, in more ways than one. ‘Cause you’re quite a beauty and my brother here’s a beast,” she teases. Gladio only frowns at her, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, but he makes a very handsome beast,” you quickly tell Iris. Then, a pause. A very awkward pause. Gladio looks away with a sheepish smile, hoping against hope he isn’t blushing like an idiot this time around. Meanwhile, Iris is grinning from ear to ear. You nervously stammer, “Uh, I mean, well… never mind.” You heave a sigh and hurriedly say, “I’m so sorry. Thank you so much for this, um—” you squint at Gladio’s nametag, then at Iris’s— “Gladio. And you, too, Iris. Anyway, I gotta go. Bye.”

Gladio and Iris watch you hastily march out of the bookstore, the sound of the metal wind chimes tinkling at your departure.

Iris is still smiling as if she had won the lottery. Wearing a triumphantly teasing look, she says. “Wipe that blush off your face, you handsome beast.”

“Yes, you handsome beast,” Prompto repeats. He is leaning on a shelf, arms crossed over his chest, flashing Gladio a cheeky grin. On the other hand, from across the room behind the café counter, Noctis is looking at him with a giddy smile. So does Ignis.

“Can it, all of you,” he says out of annoyance, but he cannot help the smile that curls the corners of his mouth. He has to admit: he likes the way his name sounds in your lips, how it softly rolls off with the lilt of your voice.

Slowly, it dawns on him that he had forgotten to do one simple thing.

He had forgotten to ask for your name.

Today marks your seventh visit in Once Upon A Page, and you finally catch a glimpse of Mr. Muscle Man’s name tag.

You try to forget how you have so easily embarrassed yourself in front of Mr. Muscle Man—or Gladio, rather—with something completely tactless. A handsome beast. Who casually says that in the middle of a decent conversation? Either way, what’s done is done.

Walking back to your apartment, you clutch the book in your hands. Some part of you wants to entertain the distracting idea that a stranger entrusted you with such an intimate piece of literature, but you are only touched by his gesture. You can only hope that Gladio has not caught you blushing as you read through e.e. cummings’ Erotic Poems, especially when you got to the last half of As We Lie Side By Side. “O mountain, you cannot escape me,” read the remaining lines of the poem. “Your roots are anchored in my silence; therefore, oh mountain, skillfully murder my breasts, still and always I will hug you solemnly into me.” Back in the bookstore, you couldn’t help imagine the rich baritone of his velvety voice reading the lines of the poem to you—or quite madly, you couldn’t help imagine how he’s doing all these carnal things to you that the warmth on your cheeks had traveled between your legs…

You expel the foolish thought, shaking your head at your own severely inappropriate imagination. It is quite obvious that Gladio is awfully attractive and one heck of a devastatingly handsome man; but the guilt of reducing him to a beacon of a fantasy weighs heavy on your stomach. He deserves more than that. After all, with the generosity and hospitality he has extended to you throughout your visits, what you truly want is to earn his friendship. In fact, you’re dying to know what his thoughts are on the poem. You’re dying to know his personal tastes in books. Not once had he ever judged you on your selection of purchases, and you could not help but wonder what his favourite book could be. Or if he even has one. How can a man like him who’s running a lovely bookstore possibly pick a favourite?

As far as you can tell at this point, the only thing you know about Gladio with much certainty is this: he loves books. There’s no doubt about it. He wouldn’t be tending to a bookstore if he didn’t. And that fact alone makes him a hundred times more attractive, which now makes each of your bookstore trips a bit more troublesome. What if he sees you staring at him? What if you see him staring back? The more you visit, the more you are drawn to know Gladio. But what should you say to him? Clearly, you cannot even begin to formulate a normal sentence without embarrassing yourself—as already exhibited in your earlier exchange. Besides, in his attempts to make conversation with you, you always end up shrugging him off with an awkward smile out of your nervousness. You hope he does not think you are too rude or callous. Because this time, you want to properly return his kindness. You want to learn more about him. You want to learn what stirs his curiosity, what makes him smile—

Someone is tapping you over your shoulder. “Uh, excuse me?”

You freeze for a moment. The sound of that voice sends your heart beating violently against your chest. It’s a voice you can probably pick out even in a crowded room. You turn around and see Gladio, all flustered and breathless.

“Hey, so. I think this is yours,” he says, handing you a phone. Which you first find strange. Then, for another second, you realize that it is your phone. Shit. How reckless can you get today?

“Oh my god, I… uh, thank you. So, so much,” you say in a stupefied relief, taking your phone from his hand. “I probably wouldn’t realize that I left this until I reached my apartment.” The sidewalk is glazed with the summer heat and you are already a few blocks away from his bookstore that you just have to ask: “You didn’t happen to run all the way here, did you?”

“Well, I had to,” Gladio says with a crack of laughter. “But it’s fine. I think you’re worth chasing after.” He pauses, then quickly adds, “Because y’know, you left your phone. And besides—” he scratches his cheek, hesitates for a brief moment, then runs a hand through his ponytailed hair— “you got my name but I never got yours.”

You try to chew the smile that threatens to escape your lips, but you fail miserably. You regard him curiously for a second, narrowing your eyes at him. “Do you always ask the name of your customers?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Usually I don’t need to ask since they give it to me on their own.”

You roll your eyes. “Right. Of course. Very charming.”

“So you think I’m charming?”

“Haven’t decided on that yet.”

“How about you decide on that after one date?”

A stunned silence. The cacophony of honking cars and bustling pedestrians fill in the wordlessness. You stare at him and with uncertainty, you repeat, “One date? Are you… asking me out?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” Gladio nods with a smile. The way his smile illuminates his face, you can promise that this summer afternoon has never been brighter. He digs his hands on the pocket of his jeans, his expression suddenly dubious. “Is it… too soon?”

“No, not at all,” you say. “I’d love to go.”

The said date did prove that Gladio is, indeed, one charming man. Excruciatingly charming, even. Without a shadow of a doubt. He had arranged to close Once Upon A Page the rest of the evening just for the two of you. Without the sight of customers flocking his shop, the place looks even more magical: the whimsical arrangement of furniture, the towers of bookshelves teeming with books, the soft jazz music wafting from the stereo. The both of you spent hours in the reading nook talking about books, trading recommendations, and exchanging good-hearted criticism on reads that never quite left a mark on your reading experience. (”I gave up halfway on Atlas Shrugged, just so you know. While I support Dagny Taggart as a badass female protagonist, it all felt too... wordy? Prosaic? I don’t know how to describe it,” you tell him when he asked you what you thought of the Ayn Rand book you once bought, and he couldn’t help but laugh, because he, too, felt the same.) The majority of the night was then wasted away in a comfortable silence reading each other’s favourites.

The said date led to another. Then one more. Then two, three, four, five... until the nights you had spent with him could no longer be measured in numbers. Days drifted to weeks, weeks meandered to months. By then, you could only measure it by the way he makes you feel each time you are together. As if you are home, as if you are safe, as if you have always loved him your entire life.

Today marks the night that Gladio openly shares with you the story of his life, and you look at him with a genuine kindness that makes his heart swell.

Sitting side by side on the couch of his bookstore’s reading nook, you rest your head on his shoulder, threading your fingers with his. Quietly, he confides in you the pain. It’s all in the past now, but he has not talked about the gravity of it all with anyone else. Not even with Noctis, or Prompto, or Ignis. Not even with his sister.

“So yeah, that’s why you found that e.e. cumming’s book,” Gladio explains. “Quite a petty move, isn’t it?”

“No, I don’t think so,” you tell him sincerely. He pulls you even closer, and you look up at him with a smile. “We all have our ways of coping with heartbreak. I remember my mum once telling me that we do all these things to move on because we put the people we love on a pedestal. And I think she’s right—there's a sense of trust in that, because in a way, we equip them with the weapons we know that could hurt us, all the while firmly believing that they would never wield it to do us any harm. So when they fall from grace—unconsciously or otherwise—the easiest response is to put the blame on ourselves, rip out our feelings and memories of them to be cured faster of the hurt.”

Gladio nods pensively. “Yeah, but most of the time, in the process, some eventually close their hearts to love.”

A solemn silence lingers. Then, you cast him a searching look. “Have you closed your heart to love?”

“At some point, I was about to.” His lips quirk into a small smile. “But then I met you.”

You say nothing. You can’t say anything. Did he just…

Gladio immediately understands the bewildered expression on your face as he goes on to say, “Y’know, you made me realize that I don’t want to live the rest of my life with my heart closed to others just so I could avoid getting hurt. To love is to live. To hurt is also to live. I’d rather feel anything than choose to feel nothing.” He tucks a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, and a wide smile spreads all over his face. “So I guess what I’m trying to say here is yes, I'm in love with you.”

Again, you say nothing. Instead, you meet his lips with yours. Somewhere, you hear the wild cheers from Iris and Noctis, and Prompto saying, “Get a room, you two!” but you didn’t pay anyone any mind. Gladio doesn’t mind them, either. Because he kisses you as if the world is on fire and your mouth is the only way to extinguish the flames. He has been used to carrying the burden alone, but with you, the burden feels lighter. With you, he feels like he is home. Like he is safe. Like he has always loved you his entire life.

#final fantasy xv #ffxv #ffxv fanfiction #fanfic #gladiolus amicitia #older!gladiolus amicitia #gladio x reader #older!gladio x reader #my writing

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flcwerstudies · 7 years ago

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cute tag!

pretty long post coming up!! Thanks to @cafedetude for tagging me!! im tagging: @hermiionegrcnger @studying-frenzy @belledoe @tiny-notes @theteadesk !! You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to ofc and if u want to do it and i haven’t tagged you go ahead!!

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? there must always be more milk than cereal, but that amount must not exceed a certain amount do you get me? when i scoop my cereal there has to be proportionate amounts of milk in each scoop, consistently, until i have finished my bowl. my mind is a strange and lonely place.

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? yes! its so refreshing and i feel like all your lethargy just evaporates... i love taking walks in the winter around my neighborhood in the evenings.

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? spoons, lipsticks, i once used another book to bookmark a book, hair elastic, my contact lenses case, compact mirror....im a mess, i know

4: how do you take your coffee/tea? tea: scalding hot with lots of sugar and some milk. coffee: lots of milk, so much sugar

5: are you self-conscious of your smile? no? i just want my braces off!!

6: do you keep plants? yess

7: do you name your plants? yes! i am currently growing two wild roses and I’ve named them Calliope and Polymnia.

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? journaling, writing, reenacting musicals and dramatic renditions of songs?

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? yeah ofccc it keeps me sane

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? back and side

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends? CAROL THE LESBIAN LIBRARIAN // mary walks by // too many to list here tbh

12: what’s your favorite planet? mars! and also venus

13: what’s something that made you smile today? my friends

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? a hurricane flew thru the entire place, empty wine bottles on the ground, beanbag chairs, stacks of books and movies, maybe a cat and a dog lazing around on the couch

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! there’s a gigantic cloud of alcohol wayyyyy out in outer space that could produce over 450 trillion pints of beer

16: what’s your favorite pasta dish? give me all the pasta. i love all pastas.

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? im ok with my hair color now

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. GETTING A CAPUCHIN MONKEY AS MY PATRONUS ON POTTERMORE

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? yes! i rant a lot and i sort of write down reflections? on my day and things. its really emo and angsty lmao im 16 pls

20: what’s your favorite eye color? brown eyes. so gentle. so sharp. so kind but so cruel. so ambiguous!

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. my tote bag from myanmar! the straps are falling off but i love it so much

22: are you a morning person? depends on if i slept early enough

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? sleep, watch a movie, watch youtube, read

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? absolutely not. it always pisses me off when people are like ohhh you can tell me anything??? no i can’t????

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? my friend’s house lmao

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit? my peach converse! they’re so pastel and they seem weird but converse generally go well with a lot of things

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor? i don’t like gum tbh

28: sunrise or sunset? both

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? sticks his tongue out when he’s concentrating and its so cute i die everytime

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? yes but i will never ever go into detail with anyone about this lmao

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. i love socks, i like wearing weird socks except for toe socks, people who sleep with socks on are Immune to Heat and Not Afraid Of Dying?? no white socks get nasty real quick and they’re so bland, i love socks i have this grey pair with french bulldog faces allllll over it and i wear them all the time and even though people can’t see them i still get happy and tell people about my dog socks.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. HA LMAO we had just watched a scary movie so obviously we turned on my little pony and watched that for two hours

33: what’s your fave pastry? cupcakes! anything tbh i have an enormous sweet tooth

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? my dad used to go on a lot of business trips and he came back once with a huge stuffed bear from switzerland and its so fuzzy its still on my bed. it’s name is Fred and it wears overalls and it has brown fur!

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? yes to all!!

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now? paul anka lmao he’s not a band but ya know

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? clean

38: tell us about your pet peeves! wHEN UR JAMMING OUT TO MUSIC AND THEN SPOTIFY JUST STOPS WORKING?? people asking me if im mad when im just being quiet and then making me mad by continually questionning me, people who will ask dumb questions (yes, there are always dumb questions. google is free and im not going to tell u the homework, it’s written on the board quite clearly u moron), racist/homophobic/ableist/ generally offensive and disrespectful people

39: what color do you wear the most? grey and navy

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you? I have mismatching earrings that my grandmother got me for my birthday!

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving? Fifteen Dogs by Andre Alexis!

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! the starbucks on center street it’s very Starbucks, exactly what you would expect, but I always sit in the corner spot near the windows

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? My family!

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? sitting in the sand in shell key, florida. my feet are in the water and i am watching my family swimming. I am very sunburnt but my mind is completely blank in a good way

45: do you trust your instincts a lot? absolutely

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. ofc they used a baby lion as their mascot. it’s simba-lic.

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? there’s this food in korea that’s just stir fried rice with soybean sprouts and the sprouts..... aw god....they refuse to be bitten in half and it’s so gross i hate it sm

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? darkness! and no it is different today!

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? there are scarce places to buy CD’s now but the last one I bought was Micheal Jackson’s Bad

50: what’s an odd thing you collect? bottle caps and paperclips and also pens i pick off the ground

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? my dad. any aretha franklin song

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? the spongebob one and the gif of the white man who blinks a lot....u know the one

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? i loved all of them and i want to be able to quote them in all of my speech but i dont think people have watched all of them

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? i was working on homework last night and when i was turning on my laptop to work on my project i met my reflection in the screen

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point? been incredibly bitchy like damn.....i surprise myself and i really hate it

56: what are some things you find endearing in people? when people use weird shit as bookmarks, when they laugh with their eyes shut, laugh lines near their eyes, dimples, kindness, when they aren’t afraid of making eye contact with me bc i have weirdly intense eyes

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? it did not fit the mood of my day but yes i did reenact the lyrics

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? my friend diana is the wine mom but i am the vodka aunt. why?? she is infinitely more caring and kind and sophisticated and also wine gets u lowkey, calm drunk, while i, the vodka aunt, am caring, but i have a bit of a laissez faire attitude and go with the flow and ‘damn what the hell fuck it’ kinda vibe and vodka gets u sloppy shitfaced drunk with none of the sophistication that comes with wine.

59: what’s your favorite myth? icarus

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? i dont LOVE poetry but i like haikus they’re like clever one liners ha

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received? I gave my friend a notebook that i’d hastily made the night before and I have received a box of pads which in retrospect is not even a stupid present bc pads are expensive

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? i drink oj when i can

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? i organize them every month bc i am ridiculous and i can’t function if my bookshelf is weirdly organized

64: what color is the sky where you are right now? pale grey almost white.

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with? my oldest group of friends (TNT lmaoooo) OR YOU KNOW callixtus from volunteering holyyy. you know those people who u meet and u immediately click with?? he’s on of them magical people and he was hella funny too i miss that guy to all hell

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? small roses! peach blossoms and cherry blossoms too. one huge ass hibiscus or lotus flower as a statement piece

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? cozy and sheltered. valid excuse for not going out

68: what’s winter like where you live? terrible but i love it kinda

69: what are your favorite board games? monopoly

70: have you ever used a ouija board? NO WHAT

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea? barley, green or reallllyyyy black tea with loootss of sugar so that it makes your teeth ache

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it? yeah how’d you know

73: what are some of your worst habits? expecting everyone to be on the same page

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. dedicated and brash, loud and hilarious, soft, amazing, i love them a lot

75: tell us about your pets! i dont have pets!! T-T

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t? studying BUT DONT CALL ME OUT LIKE THIS OK

77: pink or yellow lemonade? pink

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? hateclub sorry

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? done my makeup for me while gossiping with me

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? pale green and yeah i did. i chose it bc i love green! and the old color was boring and i didn’t like it

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. no edges at all, soft bovine eyes , shaking leaves, crocodile tears

82: are/were you good in school? yes! it’s a source of a lot of pride for me!

83: what’s some of your favorite album art? amsterdam by nothing but thieves omg

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? oohh nahh im not planning on getting tattoos im scared of needles

85: do you read comics? what are your faves? through the woods? i used to read a lot of them but you know i grew out of them

86: do you like concept albums? which ones? not especially no

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? the drop, double indemnity, back to the future, idk there’s a lot

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? the rennaissance! it was so extra and i loved it a lot

89: are you close to your parents? yeah

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. TORONTO-soaring skyline from the highways at night near the lakeshore, the lights from the condos are like stars and its ridiculous but i also loooooveee dubrovnik in croatia and hanoi in vietnam and kaunas in lithuania and kyoto in japan.....in dubrovnik the wind blows in from the shore and at night when the lights are on in the walled city the stone glows amber. In Hanoi in the old quarter, motorbikes flash by and there’s yelling and the smell of pork skewers and there’s old buildings and new ones, huge stalks of bamboo leaning up against the walls. In Kaunas the wind is so cold and sharp and the buildings are so clean and there’s that old fortress and the tower! it’s so beautiful. and Kyoto is old and archaic but so modern it hurts and the streets are too uniform and the houses creep me out a bit bc they’re so quiet.

91: where do you plan on traveling this year? i dont think so

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? i will bury my pasta in cheese just you watch

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most? my hair is one style fits all bc its short

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? my friend!

95: what are your plans for this weekend? study and work on projects and homework and stress and nap and have dinner with a guest

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? no updates. we die like men.

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? isfj-t, aries, ravenclaw

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? sometime in september? it was nice!

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. put your head on my shoulder by paul anka....there’s a lot and im really lazy sorry

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? 5 years in the future, just to see where I end up

#tagged #ask games #nice!#tagged games #tag games #about me

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