#I've said some of this stuff before in other posts but I felt one comprehensive post would be better than just handing you a bunch of links

[evilwickedme]

Have you ever felt motivated to write something out of spite? I’ve been getting irritated with some fandom stuff and boy is it motivating for me lol

Lmao yeah a whole bunch of my PUBLISHED fic was written out of spite let alone the half finished projects sitting in my drafts

Okay so firstly my first even long fic Of Three Times Lily Evans Changed Her Mind About James Potter (yeah it's a long name usually I just refer to it as OTT). That fic was written out of frustration with my favorite fic at time (The Life and Times) remaining incomplete - it updated once before I started tenth grade and then literally never finished (she posted what she had written but essentially went from being in the middle of an arc to the end of the whole fic and we didn't even get to see jily getting together I will never not be upset about this @thelordofthecats can confirm this). I also included some personal frustrations in there, notably at the omnipresence of wolfstar in the marauders fandom which I did not and do not ship.

Then there's my first ever spideypool fic, Changes. This was all the way back in 2015, when I had just started reading marvel comics. I really enjoyed the spideypool ship but this was before they even had a team up comic - and while Deadpool clearly had a crush on Spidey, peter couldn't STAND wade and actually quit the uncanny avengers over him. So I was like... Okay here's these two extremely different people. Most of the spideypool fic I've read has peter "fix" wade. What if it was the other way around? What if being in a relationship made Peter worse? So that's what that fic is about. (I think was also partially inspired by @ask-spiderpool 's earlier arcs, I believe, but I don't remember exactly when I stumbled across that comic and I do know I was directly inspired by Uncanny Avengers #1)

A bunch of my Witcher fic was written in response to common geraskier tropes, but I'd have to list like four fics here so just trust me on this one, I did a lot of exploration of their power dynamics here. Also, putting it on the record, I think Geralt's more interesting if he's written as a sub.

Then there's the huge fic I haven't shut up about since September, you know, before and after fic? hang on 'til the chaos is through? So yeah that was written because I kept reading fics where just the act of Tim joining the family early made it so Jason didn't die, and to me that seemed just... Wrong. Jason didn't die because he didn't have a Tim to care about, he loved both Bruce and Alfred. He died because he felt angry and betrayed and more specifically because once he found out that there was somebody else he could love, he wanted so desperately to find her and eventually to save her. It's not that I don't like the fics where that did happen - it's just that I wanted to write one where it specifically didn't. I also don't like when fics about Jason rejoining the batfamily have him learn a lesson about how killing is wrong, nor do I like fics where the Pit makes him insane or whatever. UTRH!Jason is reasonable and calculated and has a very comprehensive and logical life philosophy which I enjoy reading and writing about, even if it's not my personal philosophy. So yeah, that's one of the reasons I wrote that fic (also because I am unhinged about Jason Todd but we knew that).

And FINALLY, we have Under the Pink Hood. I am fully aware that this is maybe my most self indulgent fic ever, but by God am I upset this fic flopped. I am so frustrated with both the source material and honestly the fandom's treatment of Gwen Stacy (the original one). It was when @stackthedeck said that if they bring her back again she should at least pull a Jason Todd that I ended up writing Under the Pink Hood, combining both my blorbos into a fic I'm genuinely so proud of.

Honestly I think some of my best writing has come out of spite and frustration. Fanfic as a whole often is just a production of frustration with the source material, and then if you also have frustration with the fandom or even just one creator then that's double the frustration and a great motivator to write. If you haven't tried your hand at it yet - definitely do it, it's a great outlet and I bet you'll produce some great works!

[silverxcristal]

Did you learn english so you could talk with Octy ? /gen

TL;DR: No, but thanks to her I speak it more fluidly (debatable)

Oh no, I already (sort of) speak English before I met Octy; In school English is a obligatory class from Kindergarten to Cuarto Medio (last year of high-school), I knew the basics from there- although I was always a mediocre student in school (I never learn past verbs correctly, I will slap an -Ed and pray for the best)

When I was a pre-teen I used to post my art on different Spanish speaking forum websites AND Deviantart, English text website. The actions and clicks were a trial and error to know new words and I did met a few users who speak spanish too (mainly from the forums) so it felt like a practice English reading comprehension but I mainly speak spanish. There were also many videogames that never got a spanish translation and I had to just- play without knowing whats going on until I'm stuck, or trial and error and see what happened, learn and assimilate words or get that teached at school

When I shift to Tumblr in 2011... well Tumblr didn't had a spanish version back then, and all the fandoms and stuff I liked were mainly English territory. I grew apart from Latino fandoms (and friendships...) growing up as I saw the English one more appealing to what I like.

But again, my English was mediocre, the education we get about the language is "to serve"; we can read and understand but we can't write or speak to communicate, if you want a better english you have to pay for private classes (school did offer kids those classes with discount to thoses who had potential in english. But again, I was a mediocre student)

I have been surviving with that english over here for a whilensjsjaosbsi mainly alone, talking to myself bc the content i made was always oc related or mediocre fanart, it wasn't until 2014 when my art was rebloged by somebody important to fnaf fandom that my blog reached the 100 followers and I got eyes on me and that sort of boosts my stupid confidence and I just keep posting and writing in broken English and shifted to fandom art and stuff

When I was in the middle of that I met Octy, i gotta remark that ever since I became her friend and later girlfriend I've been able to practice almost daily my written and speaking English, my pronunciation sucks and I struggle with the way vowels sound different in both languages, but sometimes I caught myself thinking in English or not struggling thinking on translating my thoughts and I think that's cool

Octy is a english minor and oh boy she must suffer reading some of my wording sometimes, but she also remarks I am being understood with how I talk. The other day she said my English is way better than when we first met and that make me happy, not only I don't see my own progress but she also remembers that

[turtlemagnum]

i seem to have misremembered both that hoax and this reddit post of his as confirmation of that hoax. good to know i've been wrong! sorry to have spread misinformation!

what the text says for screenreader people because there's not enough room in the alt text:

To reply to a deleted comment: I’m not hiding, this has just taken some time to write.

I took down that tumblr post because I honestly don’t remember it (I’ll get to my mental problems of late 13 to early 15) and it’s ugly enough to be misconstrued and even if it could be construed there’s little positive value in it. What it looks like I’m trying to say is, “There’s a whole lotta weird dick admiration for this heinous shit but where’s all the love for the heinous shit Vivec did with their other bits?”

That’s my read of it, anyway. But you want a bigger explanation, though, some kind of wide and comprehensive one. I mean that’s the point of this whole thing, so sure, let’s talk. This is going to be long.

For over ten years, I abused liquor and benzos, a combination that tends to kill you. It started as a way to deal with anxiety and depression until it just became my life. I finally got to the rock bottom point where I didn’t want to die, so I went into detox (very soon I’ll hit my seventh year sober, but that’s not really part of this). What happened after detox was a shitload of terrifying stuff that no one told me about that happens early on (or maybe just happened to me) that I'm only just now getting my head around. This is where the nightmare starts.

It was terrifying stuff like getting out of detox and not quite being... well, it’s a lot like having missing time but that isn't the right term... getting out of detox and not being fully present in my own skin for a whole year and some change. I'm not talking about the pink cloud or readjusting to a life without drinking and drugs (all of which one can read about and find comfort in), but stuff like…

Thinking I was dead and a ghost, like for real-real thinking I was dead and in hell and still communicating with my wife. As in, only she could see me but only through some kind of magic glass. At one point, I thought I had to stand in the shower and talk through the glass door so she could hear me properly.

Being convinced that people were out to get me, sometimes a weird shadow consortium of psychiatrists and law enforcement, other times the friends I was having lunch with, or online circles of people that I “knew” were laughing at my confusions, and sometimes it was simply supernatural entities like demons, magicians, or, yes, ghosts.

Having a looping always-happening sense of deja vu, where I was stuck in a state of I was just there doing these things just then, a Groundhog Day but in seconds. It turned out to be my brain rewriting itself while finding a new medication cocktail with my doctor. And finding that was hard because I was convinced we had already done it six seconds ago and why was this doctor trying to trick me? Again? Everyone, including myself, felt like it was tricking me into thinking— into believing— that what I was doing just now was something I did just a moment before.

Putting myself in strange situations because I thought after detox I was invincible, or the funniest person alive, or a fashion statement from the future, or a secret lockpick to the underground (whatever that meant but it definitely meant something enough for me to keep talking about it for awhile) or a cruel demigod who could say anything to anyone without guilt or admonishment. In this stage of thrilling horribleness, I said awful things while kicking shoes off and jumping on tables that I believed would spiral up like Enochian discs up through the air to golden thrones.

Practicing automatic writing, asking people for music soundtracks for capital-I important projects I was doing, and honest to God trying to make clocks tick backwards with my mind.

Trembling, rambling, full on panicking that I had been replaced by someone else and yet still stuck inside them. Constant passenger, my wife unable to know it, her being tricked instead by my epidermal doppelgänger.

“Reliving" portions of my childhood where I discovered horrible secrets about my father and my babysitters and by discovered I really mean making shit up to explain what was happening to me in this haze of being sober and in a batshit crazy living nightmare because I got sober.

This is the stuff that they don’t tell you. Or at least didn’t tell me. I went into a facility to get better, to conquer insobriety, and when my insurance ran out, they said I was good to go. That’s another thing that they don’t tell you: your journey to healing is only on their premises for as long as your deductible allows. Maybe they do tell you and I didn’t listen because the reason I got into detox was I was simply going to die if I didn’t. My drinking had become so bad that blacking out was more the norm than just being awake. Either way, my post-detox was a nightmare because— in the well-deal-with-it state— you are in no way ready to be outside, unsupervised, your brain and body unable to deal with an unregulated withdrawal that turns you into a goddamn alien. And it lasts for what seems like forever (especially the phase of infinite deja vu).

What I did have is my wife, who patiently carried my post-detox psychoses with me, helping me to ride it out. Ride it out for a year to eighteen months, no matter how scary it must have gotten for her, what with my brain transforming its interactions with reality, each variation of that unannounced, each variation bringing new ways to make me feel unable to be really ever human again. And when you feel like that, you often get angry at everything (becoming sober was supposed to heal you not twist you up and dump you on an unrecognizable earth), or you get elated because you are a pillar of newfound power, messianic and reborn, without need for conscience or restraint (“I say what I want!”), or you get frightened because you’re now a shower ghost with no way back to someone you love so much.

My wife brought me back. She found me doctors that could help. Cleaned up after me. Put up with my mean-spirited tirades and unearthly new manias. Reminded me our dog always knew who I was because he could smell through all my unwanted disguises.

I hurt a lot of friendships, a lot of people I didn’t know, and a lot of co-workers during this time. I wrote things I don’t understand, don’t condone, and half the time don’t remember. I was awful when I was supposed the be getting better. If you got to know me from anywhere between 2013-2015, I’m really sorry, I thought I had no way back to sanity. And in the ten years before, I wasn’t much better.

-MK

*I meant to post some of this during National Recovery Month but you wanted some kind of answer.

just described a bit of khajiit lore to my grandma and she said facetiously, "and how many drugs were we on writing this?", not knowing a damn thing about michael kirkbride. i hear he's gotten clean in more recent years and is self reportedly far better off for it, but you've gotta admit that from the standpoint of the writing itself there's something to be said about the combination of unsustainable quantities of acid and a theology degree to creating a very distinct identity and feel

[scalematez]

What about latula? I've actually always found her ultra interesting but i never really got it.

Sorry this took so long! This is a bit of a wall.

Latula Pyrope, Knight of Mind, introduced to us Homestuck Act 6 Intermission 3, page 5263. 

I’ve seen her character get flattened down to just “gamer girl, but like a 90’s gamer girl” on more than one occasion. Taking “Radglare” as the whole. One of the first things you need to know about knights is that if you buy into their most surface-level persona and don’t read beyond it, then you fell for it. 

They are often, in some way or another, hiding behind a wet papier-mâché wall, maybe even a caricature of their own making (intentionally or not). This applies to Dave, this applies to Karkat. It isn’t hard for the people around them to see behind, but they fall prey to their own personal sense of failure. 

Latula, as is the case with all the other Beforan trolls sans Meenah and Aranea, only really has substantial interactions with 3 characters total. In her case, this is Meenah (inevitably), Porrim, and Kankri. Within this short amount of time though, the finest cuts of her character come from her interactions with Porrim in particular. 

Beginning in her interactions with Meenah, we see Latula put on a display so cartoonish that it becomes overbearing. The constant high-fives and the spewing of nonsense lingo that would’ve gotten her weird looks in an actual 90’s-style arcade don’t take very long to get on Meenah’s nerves. 

With Porrim however her behavior plainly gets called out for what it is; a routine. 

Porrim actually gives us some interesting and comprehensive insight into why and how misogyny still exists in Beforan troll society (a take that those who compare Porrim to a men’s rights activist must have either sorely missed or straight up ignored, but my serious salt about that can wait for another day), and this comes to us because she’s making an observation about Latula that is essential to understanding her character; the way she acts is, in some part, a response to internalized misogyny. 

It’s no secret that misogyny was (and still is, to some extent) a problem in many gaming circles, and in the sentiments expressed among or around them. Some girls, in order to adapt to this, took on an “I’m not like other girls”-esque persona, often to a degree that was a bit obnoxious (I’m saying this with experience). This is what Latula is a satire of, largely. 

Latula actually is competent, at least as a mind player. She has a lot more going on under the surface than is immediately obvious. Her conversations with Meenah (for example, where she mentions having pieced together why Meenah killed them all immediately before the scratch) imply that she spends some fair amount of time mulling things over and piecing them together. 

In her conversation with Porrim about the cosmic state of relationships between the Serket and Pyrope families she also alludes to having an intrinsic understanding of karma, implying that it’s something she as a mind player is specifically suited to understand, and then redirects the conversation the moment she’s asked to elaborate. 

She has a bit of an incapability to be genuine even in the one setting she’s most comfortable doing so. While her conversations with Porrim are the most genuine we've seen her, she still defaults at moments to brushing things aside, or perhaps playing dumb in some cases. 

It’s worth noting Latula has some kind of anxiety disorder, and she’s supposed to be medicated for it. She calls her own behavior “neurotic” at one point, though it’s not clarified whether that’s a genuine diagnosis or she meant it in a misused figurative sense (personally I like to believe she is, though it’s still not canonly specified). 

All in all, Latula is kind of a deeply troubled person. Her exaggerated, somewhat obnoxious demeanor isn’t just the punch of a joke, but a special hell of her own creation. What was an unhealthy defense mechanism has now eaten her sense of self (or lack thereof) as she’s mostly stuck with the same other 11 people for, as far as she’s aware, the rest of eternity. The fact that she’s kept the act up for this long speaks to… something. I don’t know what, but it speaks to something for sure. 

Aranea doesn’t give us much backstory on her, beyond there being a non-specified “tragic accident” that left her nasally impaired (which raises a lot of alarming questions of its own), and of the information granted to us it’s hard to draw the precise line where she’s just fucking with Meenah and where she’s not. Because of this, we don’t know too much about her role in the session when alive. We can only really theorize about what happened to her in-session. 

For example, for her to have entirely and permanently lost her sense of smell in a single “incident” of some kind (as opposed to long-term damage, acquired illnesses or things like epilepsy or stroke), she would have had to experience something on the level of chemical burns inside her nose, or a flat out brain injury of her own, which is actually the theory I find the most interesting for narrative reasons. Knights are proposed by some to have a self-perceived inherent flaw with their own aspect, which is supported by canon texts. A self-perceived inherent flaw with mind? While that could certainly apply even without brain injury, it’s interesting in the context of it. It would also add a new layer of framing to her relationship with Mituna, and her protectiveness over him, beyond the general fact that knights just tend to be protective in some way or other. But that's just my brainstorming there!

Anyhow sorry this is so lengthy! To end off on a high note, have this really nice little piece of interaction:

[108garys]

House of Ashes/Thedas AU: "the Ancient one"

So I'm still not sure what the official title is gonna be but here is the first part/prologue of my very first fic I've ever posted (I've never put my writing online before please be nice)

I'm assuming knowledge of dragon age lore/world building so I won't be explaining stuff like what a calling is for example

I don't know if this should be considered the prologue and the next part as part one or prologue parts 1 & 2 since the next part has a few povs set before the main story, regardless I apologise in advance for how brutal it gets this is thus far as bad as it gets(consider it somewhere in between the level of violence of both ips)

TW/CW dismemberment, Death (next)

@kassiekolchek22

(5:10/Exalted- 2yrs before the 4th blight)

The song hummed through his mind and something else whispered underneath. When he was conscripted over a decade ago Kurum always knew he’d end up here in this endless maze of dark godless tunnels. Maybe it was arrogant to assume he wouldn’t die in some more mundane way, Balathu had always said so and if you’d told him all those years ago that he’d be grateful to go to his calling with that man he would have set your hair alight for the insult.

“How long is a calling meant to take?” As they made their way the deep roads seemed unusually quiet and the other man was agitated by the tune just below his comprehension. “Until it’s over, Nevarran.”

Balathu shot him a withering look, the pair had met at the end of a blade, being on opposite sides between warring territories had made working together unbearable when they were raw recruits but now… the jabs were those of old friends and maybe…

 “Do you ever regret…”Kurum wished he could be direct. Becoming a warden, the years we’ve had together, being stuck with me…”How things turned out? “

“I wish I had a chance to see my daughter grow into a woman but Maker willing we’ll both see her soon.” Kurum couldn’t say he was as eager to die as his companion but when it comes down to it he hopes he goes first. Balathu gave him a friendly smack to the back. ”I am glad that I don’t have to do this alone my friend.”

The whispers were growing louder, competing for his attention. Kurum focused on the other man, he could ignore the presence pressing at the veil if only to die the man who came to care for his enemy. It would be a worse tragedy to continue as anything else…

“Wait.” Balathu stopped, he slowly turned trying to make out what direction the disturbance had come from. “I sense it too.” Kurum drew on the veil, the other voices begged to help but he ignored them, “How many?”

“It’s hard to tell, a half dozen maybe more…” Balathu’s blighted senses had always been more precise; not having spirts whispering in your mind had to make a difference. A large Dwarven door stood between them and the end…   

Kurum had the sinking suspicion that it would all be over very quickly once they were on the other side, he gave his fellow grey warden the lightest touch to the shoulder he could manage. Balathu turned to him dark eyes more beautiful than the blackest night. He should say something but anything felt too final so instead he simply placed a quick kiss on his dearest friend’s lips.

“Fifteen years of knowing each other and you choose now!?” Balathu pulled him close, indignant at the wasted time. Kurum could only smile. “And what stopped you?”

He held in his laughter as his companion’s brow knit in pouty irritation, hiding his face in his hand they both broke. It was dangerous to laugh until your sides scream for relief in a place like this, that surviving wasn’t a priority only served to further twist the confession neither of them could put into words…

They held each other until they could breathe again. Kurum took Balathu’s face in his hands, he wanted to remember this moment when the end came. “I’m glad to have met you, my oldest and dearest friend.” Sadness built in Balathu’s eyes. “Maybe we will be together at the Maker’s side…”

“…And your daughter can laugh at us for taking so long.” He let his hands fall and Balathu caught them in his own, giving him a proper kiss. Every unspoken prayer desperately communicated, confessions swallowed up between them before they meet fate…

Kurum rest his head against Balathu’s, he wished he could cheat time and stay in this moment, wished he was brave enough to put these feelings into words, to say he loved him but as Balathu moved to push against the door he couldn’t do it. Maybe if they really did reunite in death he could say it then but for now he helped get the door…

As the heavy door slowly budged they entered a chamber lit with the harsh glow of sickly red fire clinging to life in rusted braziers. Ancient Dwarven architecture overrun with darkspawn filth, he couldn’t name the Thaig but it was a tragedy that something so grand in its construction could fall into such disrepair.

Six hurlocks milled about in the middle of the ancient street, surely there were more in the shadows; there always was…

Balathu gave him a nod as he drew his sword and Kurum loosed a fireball into the centre of the group as the other warden ran in to take advantage of the chaos. He slash one shoulder to hip turning to thrust into the chest of another. Kurum cast glyphs of paralysis freezing a third in place before its blade could reach Balathu’s head. He ducked under the fourth’s axe, slashing across its ankles, stabbing it through the heart as it fell to the ground. The mage release a second gout of flame; charring two as Balathu decapitated the last before it could recover.

The pair huffed, still alive! Balathu grinned at him. Kurum distrusted their success, his gut told him it wasn’t over, not for them and not for-

The ground shook beneath their feet, Kurum ran to Balathu’s side casting a protective barrier around them as an ogre barrelled into them bringing its over large fists down on the magical shield, the frightened men desperately held on to each other, trapped for only a moment longer.

The barrier shattered, Kurum cast spells to slow the gigantic spawn as Balathu pulled him along. They ducked behind a ruined building, exhausted. Kurum looked at Balathu, for one painful second he saw the terror in his eyes and the next he was yanked back with such force that Kurum feared his own arm would be ripped from its socket before Balathu slipped from his grasp.

Scrambling to his feet he ran back around the wall just in time to see the ogre’s grip tighten around Balathu’s middle, he tried to stab it with his free arm and as it roared in pain its other hand closed on his legs. Kurum couldn’t look away as it pulled, the demon’s screaming in his ears drowning out the sickening sound of an armoured human being torn apart like a child’s rag doll. He dropped to his knees, in an instant there was nothing left. He gave in to the demanding voice, forbidden magics flow through him powered by his rage and the blood he meant to avenge. The last thing Kurum saw was the ogre pulling apart; its entrails raining over the stone just like it had done to his dearest…

The abomination once known as Kurum stumbled to its feet, there would be others who must pay for this one’s grief and they wouldn’t be at peace until all had suffered like him…  

[rose-colored-amy]

So, this is a continuation to my extremely short one-shot Last Moments, Last Regrets, but it can be read as a stand-alone. Regardless, I'll leave the link of that one in here:

Also, thanks to @coeurhh for suggesting I write a second part. You're a sweetheart 🥰

She made a lovely fanart/gif, which I'm also sharing, of course:

Prompt: AU. Sakura's death goes unnoticed to everyone but the squad she protected with her life and Tsunade. Team Kakashi doesn't find out until the very end, when Naruto and Sasuke have already had their fight, and there's nothing to do about it but mourn the absence.

Warning: Mild Sasusaku and lots of angst. Team 7 sort-of-fluff (?)

—Blue Bird, Let Go—

"Hey, bastard... I know they really let us down, the village, I mean."

"Aa... "

"But I really think it's not all that bad. When we were I team, I knew you understood. It felt like having a brother, believe it."

They were watching their lives go by, shadows of unknown faces passing by them, not noticing their pain, or not caring whatsoever. Their backs were touching, but it was all cold and bleak; a bad memory. A clan slaughtered, a demon sealed. Two lonely boys wallowing in their own sadness.

"Well, even if I don't make it, I'm glad it was you, bastard—"

"Shut up, idiot." His voice sounded strained, even for his standards, but Sasuke was so tired he couldn't even bring himself to care.

"We're really dying, ah? Wanna say something? I do have things to say, 'cause there's no way I'm dying—"

"In silence?" Sasuke interrupted, but Naruto payed him no mind.

"Without telling you how much of an asshole you've been! I couldn't even keep my promise to Sakura-chan! She's gonna be so damn mad when she finds out, I'm sure she'll drag me back to life just to cave my face in—" He was rambling at that point, but it was just so comforting and normal to Sasuke that he didn't even acknowledge it anymore.

"Hn. Sakura... She..."

"She still loves you, asshole. I don't have any idea how it can be possible but—"

"I'm sorry..." It sounded rushed, but Naruto heard it perfectly, and in the darkness of their shared consciousness, Sasuke heard a resigned sigh.

"Well, it's not that bad. I cannot imagine dying beside anyone but you, bastard."

"Idiot..." He made a pause. "Me neither."

"You're both a pair of idiots!"

Suddenly, the unreadable mass of unrecognizable faces around them cleared, and one figure stood in front of them, pink eyebrows frowned in annoyance. Though this version of Sakura looked familiar, it was one none of the boys had seen in a long time. Genin, long-haired, Sakura was glaring at them, arms crossed.

"Sakura-chan! What are you doing in here?!"

Her eyes softened. "What, so I'm supposed to let you two die, after everything? No way in hell!"

"Sakura..."

"You!" She pointed at Sasuke, who flinched slightly at her rudeness. "I don't know what the hell happened, but I don't care. Lighten up and start being your moody self. We love you just like that! Don't act so repented and shit! If you're sorry stop looking like a lost puppy and start doing something about it, you asshole!" Her voice was raising with madness and it was slightly off putting to see what used to be a stuttering lovestruck preteen talking to him like that.

Naruto snorted at that, obviously delighted for not being at the receiving end of her wrath for once. It was short-lived, however.

"And you!" She pointed at the blonde; then crossed her arms. He jumped back in fright. "What is this? How dare you even consider dying after you promised to be the best goddamned Hokage in history?! Here I am, rooting for you, while you lay around like a lazy pig with your edgy bro there. You should be ashamed of yourself!" She scoffed.

Naruto's mouth was so wide open he could have caught a fly. "Lazy pig? Are you kidding?!"

Sasuke raised an eyebrow, half amused, half annoyed. "Edgy?"

Suddenly, the edges of their vision began to blurr, like a genjutsu being unravelled. "Ah, someone came to help you at last." Sakura seemed relieved. Strangely so.

"Hey, Sakura-chan! You know what? You're right. I'll be the best damn Hokage ever, believe it! Just you watch!" He threw a punch to the air.

Seemingly placated and pleased with his answer, she nodded. "I know so." Then, she turned to her other teammate, who was concentrating solely on her face, mismatched eyes softened as they'll ever be. "And you'll make sure he doesn't mess up, right?"

They shared a long silence. There was something strange about Sakura aside her appearance. He could tell. "Hn. I will..."

"Hey! I don't need him watching over—"

"Sure you don't." He countered sarcastically.

"Also..." They turned to her again. "I'm sorry."

"Wha—" Naruto stuttered. "What the hell would you be sorry for, Sakura-chan?! If anything, it's the bastard here who should be apologizing to you!"

"Sakura..." Sasuke seemed to be searching for the right words, but she couldn't let them go without them listening to her. To what she needed them to know. There wasn't much time left after all.

"I'm sorry, because I wasn't what you needed..." She closed her eyes, her pretty minty orbs. Her appearance suddenly shifted, before then now standing her true self, still dressed in the standard shinobi uniform of the alliance. Her forehead protector lost to whoever knows where. "And thank you. You both made me stronger. You made me appreciate what I had. And I'll always, always love you. Our moments together like team seven... I'll treasure them for all eternity."

"Sakura-chan..."

"I know Konoha wasn't the best to you both, but don't forget the good... The wholesome moments. It's all that matters in the end... Our bonds, the bonds you managed to forge with sweat and blood... The world we live in, the world that gave me the chance to meet you. To me, that's to be cherished. Forever."

The white light started overwhelming the rest. Even Sakura's features started dissapearing.

"Live. Just live." For that, she specifically stared at Sasuke, a soft smile playing on her lips. "And thank you."

Sasuke started racing towards her, hand stretched, a forebonding understanding shaking his bones. "Sakura!"

And then, they both lost consciousness.

When they woke up, aside from feeling like shit, the first thing that crossed their minds what the finality of Sakura's words. Tsunade was beside them, patching them up, with Kakashi beside her, silently watching over them.

"About time, brats! What were you think—"

"Baa-san." Naruto interrupted her, his voice the most serious she had heard him until then.

"Where's Sakura?" Sasuke finished for him, his eyes icy and detached, trying to keep his worry at bay.

But she didn't need to answer. Her chakra flow hesitated, spiking with sorrow. Her eyes glistening with unbearable loss. Kakashi, at her side, stared, eyes widened in comprehension.

She was gone by a long shot.

And they were just finding out.

...

Everybody had different ways of dealing with loss. Naruto helped rebuild the village along with everyone else, but he skipped his usual meals, his ramen left forgotten in his kitchen counter. His movements when sparring were sloppy at best, not just because of the new prosthetic limb, but also because his mind was clearly somewhere else. Usually, Shikamaru would drag him out his makeship house, like he had done when Jiraija was gone for good. Sometimes, he would bring Ino with him, who was suspiciously skinny and messier than normal. No makeup covering the dark circles under her eyes.

Kakashi spent more than usual at the memorial stone every day, tracing the newly marked name of the girl who once remained him of Rin but that had come to claim a place for herself in his heart. Also, he took more missions than it was allowed in a month, going so far as to pick up his ANBU mask again, which caused an altercation with Tsunade, who hadn't been sober in a long time and had been hoping to hand the Hokage seat to him.

Sai avoided the color pink for a long time.

Sasuke... Well, he dealed with loss the same as everyone else... Longing for the missing person to be there, itching to have the opportunity to say what he couldn't at the time. Wanting to be alone whenever they would reach for him... And he built a tomb for her in hopes to find some closure. Not that official, because there wasn't a body to bury, and it had no name, but it was enough for him. He would bring with him camellias every day, buying them at the Yamanaka's, where Ino would always glance at him in silent understanding.

One morning, on his way to her tomb, he spotted a young shinobi leaving a white lilly for her. When he came by, the child spoke without a care, like they were acquaintances. "This is Sakura-san's, right?"

"Hn." It wasn't really an answer, but the child seemed to understand anyway.

"You know? Mama and big sister are also buried in these grounds... I always talk to them and tell them about my day and stuff I want them to know!" He turned to the Uchiha, a smirk on his cherubic face. "I'm sure she would appreciate it as well." And just like that, he left without another word.

Sasuke sat on the ground, just in front of the stone, mismatched eyes half lidded. Sensing no one in the vicinity, he exaled a shaky breath, and his dam opened up, the words longing to be said broke the silence he had been wrapping around himself since he knew of her death:

"I miss you... I've been missing you since I first left."

[black-sunbeam]

Pepero - Exo Lay Fanfic

Genre - Oneshot Fluff

Word count - 1671

So this is a Yixing fanfic that I wrote in high school and I finally decided to post it. Enjoyy

'Do you know the pepero game?' Lay asked me as we unpacked the snacks. 

I knew where this was going as I stared at the box of pepero sticks he was holding up. 

'No I don't' I replied, looking away, being totally dishonest. Of course I knew it and I was sure of one thing. There was no way I was going to do something that embarrassing.

'Do you want to know?' He urged getting all excited.

I sighed.

'Not right now Lay..'

'It's really fun.'

'Could you please pass me the biscuits' I said in a futile attempt to distract him.

He picked up the tin of biscuits and handed it to me. 

'Listen!' He literally squealed 'how it works is...'

'Where's the bread? We didn't forget to buy it right?' I clearly cut him off

Lay was silent as he shook his head and passed me the loaf of bread. I took it and continued stocking the other stuff, ignoring his presence. He looked at me for a few seconds before he asked

'Do you not want to know?' the disappointment in his voice was clear and I instantly felt bad.

'It's not that..' I said, feeling sorry 'Can we just concentrate on unpacking this stuff for now?..' 

I couldn't look into those dejected eyes as he looked at me and nodded silently and shoved the pepero box away. I could feel the depressed atmosphere as he shuffled around the groceries. The last thing I wanted was make him sad. I sighed. 

'Okay fine.. tell me..fast...'

He was elated to hear this and hurriedly pulled out the box of pepero. I turned away and started arranging the food in the refrigerator to avoiding any eye contact.

'It's really simple' he started 

'We take one stick. I put one end in my mouth and the other end goes in yours...'

I blushed at the details and I could feel the heat in my face. I was grateful to have the refrigerator cooling my head. 

'Then we start eating from the ends and our faces come closer...' he explained as I cringed.

I started picturing it in my mind which made my head spin. Just imagining it was bad enough...

'And... We kiss' 

'Huh?

Don't we leave a 2cm gap?' I replied unconsciously, looking up at him.

He stared at me, bewildered and I realised my folly. I quickly turned back into the freezer as he kept looking at me.

'You knew?' He asked

I blushed, my eyebrows slightly furrowing.

'Yes..'  I admitted

'I've seen it a few times on shows' 

His eyes never shifted as he examined me silently and I wished he'd look away.

'Look... I...' I began, scavenging my brain for an excuse, but before i could say anything he placed the pepero box on the kitchen counter and walked away.

I was left speechless as he strode towards the sofa and sat curled up on it with his legs up and chin touching his knees. I mentally punched myself about ten times as I watched him, pouting in the corner.

I sighed and walked towards him. He refused to look at me. So I knelt down on the floor in front of him and took his hands in mine.

'I'm so sorry Yixing. I didn't mean to lie to you like that. Will you forgive me?' 

He still wouldn't look at me

'Please..' I begged and his eyes softened 

He hesitated a bit but finally spoke

'You didn't want to do it with me..' he mumbled .

I was surprised when I heard that. So that's why he was depressed. I never saw it from his point of view. Was that how he interpreted it?

'No' I exclaimed 'I was just embarassed to do it'

He still pouted, melting my heart again.

I looked up at his crestfallen face and said,

'You know what? I want to do it'

I noticed his eyebrows rise in surprise. I got up and went to the kitchen counter. I took the box of pepero and opened it. I could see Lay watching me from the corner of his eye. He pretended to not have been looking when I returned with the box and knelt down on the floor in front of him again. 

I took one stick and held it in my mouth and leaned upwards, towards him. He had turned his head away but his steady eyes were watching me and he had a faint smile on his lips.

'Unghh'  I pointed at the pepero in my mouth, nudging his legs with my fingers.

He stared at me for five seconds before he looked away and abruptly chuckled.

'Unghh?'  I looked at him confused.

He put his legs down and with his left hand lifted my chin upwards as he leaned into my face, his eyes looking into mine.

'Oh you are so cute' he grinned smugly, 

My heart was instantly hit by rapid palpitations as he bit the other end of the stick.

He kept biting off pieces and I shut my eyes unable to bear looking at his face from such close proximity without fainting. He kept biting it off, coming closer each second when all of a sudden the pepero stick broke, his lips only two inches from mine.

I opened my eyes because I knew that was the end of the game. I felt a split second of relief that it was over when all of a sudden he held my face in his hands and pulled it close to his

And kissed me.

My eyes went wide open as he pressed his lips to mine. I couldn't even hear my heartbeats anymore. Only some distant, melodious, chiming bells. 

When finally after a long second our lips parted. He opened his eyes and looked at me, grinning and I stared back with shock on my face. 

I lost all the strength in my legs and collapsed on my behind, my face boiling hot. He smirked, enjoying my reaction as he got down on the floor and leaned towards me, crunching the pepero stick in his mouth.

'So did you like the game?' He whispered in my ear in a teasing tone, his breath tickling my neck and ears. 

My voice disappeared leaving just a knot in my throat and I flushed deeper. 

Chuckling again he faced me and our eyes met. He stopped laughing almost immediately and held my gaze for about ten seconds as his expression changed completely from teasing to serious before he placed his left palm on my cheek. I shuddered at the touch as his fingers reached to the back and dug into my hair, tangling it and gently pulling my head closer to his.

I tried to form comprehensible words but instead empty air escaped my mouth. I didn't even struggle this time when the gap between our faces kept decreasing, till finally our lips met again. 

I have absolutely no idea how to put into words what I felt at that moment. My heart was beating so fast that it hurt, like it was being punctured with sharp skewers from every side.

I held my breath and my mind went haywire due to the lack of oxygen. But the most unexpected feeling was that my body was reacting to him, to his every touch, wanting to close the distance between us. I didn't care if it hurt. I felt a wave of electricity passing through my nerves and I knew I was on the verge of passing out.

Our lips finally separated and I gasped for air. I looked at Lay to see him still intently looking at me. I held my aching chest with my left hand trying to calm my short-circuited heart, partially coming to my senses. 

I started taking deep breaths and our eyes met once more. He held me again slowly coming closer but I knew I was at my limit and with a swift movement, I held up my palm and covered his mouth.

He looked at me questioningly.

I shook my head taking a few deep breaths.

'That's.. all I can take...for one day..' I heaved, somehow finding my voice, my mind still going topsy-turvy.

His response was unexpected as he roared with laughter and backed away. I nearly collapsed to the floor, when he got up and lifted me in his arms effortlessly. He put me back on my feet and whispered chuckling 'Shall we continue unpacking then?' he remarked like nothing even happened.

I nodded dizzily, holding onto the side-table for support, trying to recover. 

He walked towards the kitchen, still shaking  with laughter and I watched his back as he walked. 

I was absolutely sure of one thing.

I was uncontrollably in love with him, and nothing could change that. I followed him with my numb legs, slightly tripping at each step. He held me to his side began unloading the rest of the groceries. I felt a sudden gush of warmth in my chest as i watched him. 

I still had the box of pepero in my right hand which I made absolutely sure to place in the far corner of the back shelf. 

I was trying to shy away from the thought of it but I knew that the unforgettable memories of today would always remain in my heart, making me red each time I thought of him.

                               ------X------

I went to the room the next morning. Lay had already left and I got a text that he'd be back by noon. I decided to cook something for lunch rather than ordering in again and went into the kitchen. The first thing I saw in the kitchen when i entered made my jaw drop and the blood flow right through my face.

The box of pepero was on the front shelf at eye level with a note stuck to it

- 'Nineteen sticks left' 

This is my very first fanfic. I hope you like it. It's clear who my bias is hehehe. Also I'm not really sure how the Pepero game works so I made up my own version here lol xD

[gongbu4life]

There is something that bugs me a lot. I can't understand why some people use 없다는/있다는/etc in sentences instead of 있는/없는/etc, how I learned. I've seen this a lot and I can't realize the difference if there's any. Example: 지은이가 입학할 수 없다는 소문을 들었어요

Hey! Thanks for writing, and sorry it took so long to get back to you. T_T 

That’s actually a different grammar construction. 있는/없는/etc is the conjugated adjectival blah blah stuff (from Step 2), but the example you mentioned is an indirect quote form. (You can skip the rest and go ahead and Google that!)

‘-다는’ is actually short for ‘-다고 하는.’ There are few others like this, like ‘-(이)라는’ being short for ‘-(이)라고 하는,’ or ‘-자는’ being short ‘-자고 하는’ etc. There’s a LOT of ways this is utilized in Korean, so there hasn’t been a comprehensive post explaining ALL of this. It’s a form used a lot in Korean, you’ve probably encountered it already (like your example here). 

So in your example, the construction is: 

지은이가 입학할 수 없다는 소문을 들었어요. (original) 

(저는) 다>고 하는 소문을 들었어요. 

-> 저는 …를/을 들었어요. I heard …-> 저는 소문을 들었어요. I heard a rumor… -> 저는 …다고 하는 소문을 들었어요. I heard a rumor that… -> 저는 지은이가 입학할 수 없다고 하는 소문을 들었어요. I heard a rumor that 지은 cannot enroll into school. 

I would rank this as an intermediate or even advanced grammar because it requires you to be comfortable with verb conjugation (both tense and usage), basic sentence constructions, and a natural flow of Korean. As you can see above the breakdown of grammar doesn’t exactly line up with English.

HOWEVER, it’s not so complicated in itself- it just combines a lot of things you’ve learned somewhere else. It’s also used EVERYWHERE in Korean, so once you learn this it’ll be reinforced over and over again. 

We’re not going to learn all of the variations today, BUT, once you learn it you could guess “oh, this might be that indirect quote form 악돌 선생님 talked about!” 

(-1) Indirect Quote VS Direct Quote 

Before going too further, it’s worth revisiting what’s the difference between a direct quote and an indirect quote in English. Basically, it’s this: 

Tom said, “I like cake.” (direct quote) Tom said that he likes cake. (indirect quote)

In Korean, you may also see this: 

I heard that Tom said that he likes cake. (still an indirect quote) 

Anyways, let’s dive into it. Hope this helps! 

(0) Important Foundations 

The really simplified diagram for this grammar construction is either:

[statement (”what was heard”)] + [final ending -다] + [고] + [some ‘reporting’ verb]  OR 

[statement] + [final ending -다] + [고] + [하는 (하다 in noun modifying form)] + [’reporting’ noun] [verb]

** NOTE: there are several ways to dissect this construction and I’m using the one that makes most sense to me. Don’t feel enslaved to this version. 

It’s important to recognize that “-다고” (or -(이)라고 or -자고…) is its own thing. -다고 is “An expression used to pass along what the speaker heard from another person, or to present the subject’s thoughts, opinions, etc.” (from Korean Learner’s Dictionary [link])

This is actually a combination of a “final ending” (종결 어미) like -다, -라, -자 (conjugated on ‘participles,’ descriptive verbs and action verbs), and the particle 고 that shows what precedes it is an indirect quote. ([link] to 고 in Korean Learner’s Dictionary).

I’m calling the swath of verbs and nouns that relate to speech/thought a “reporting verb” and “reporting noun.” These include 말하다, 묻다, 소문, 질문, etc. These are basic vocab words and I will not go into more detail. 

At the end of the day, these should be the takeaways: 

-다는 is short for -다고 하는 

-다고 = -다 final ending (or any final ending like -자, -라, -냐…) + indirect quote particle 고 

-고 하다 = indirect quote form of 하다 - not “to do” but something like “it is said…” … This always follows the indirect quote particle 고 

(1) + -다 + 고 +  “reporting verb” 

Let’s look at some examples first. I’m going to focus on the construction, not the ‘best way to translate’ … These are from the Korean Learner’s Dictionary: 

형이 같이 농구를 하자고 한다.~ 형 said to play basketball together. (형 wants to play basketball together) 

Start to view this construction as (형이) [같이 농구를 하자>고 한다]. We have the statement with the -자 final ending, followed by particle 고, and 한다 meaning “he said….” and the subject that “said” something is “형,” so we have “형이” at the beginning of the sentence. 

선생님이 숙제를 다 했냐고 물어보셨다.~ The teacher asked whether I did all of my homework. 

Again the construction here is [선생님이 고 물어보셨다.] Same thing: the statement (question) and the -냐 final ending, followed by particle 고, and the verb 물어보시다 in the past tense, 물어보셨다 (This is “to ask” with -시- honorific marker) 

So that’s how the -다고 stuff works. It takes a statement that ends in a “final ending” (-다, -자, -라. -냐, etc) and adds a 고 indirect quote particle, and ends with a “speech/thought verb” like 하다, 말하다, 묻다, 물어보다, 생각하다 etc.

(2) + -다 + 고 + 하는 + “reporting noun” + verb   

 This one combines the -다고 construction above with “하는,” which is is the verb 하다 conjugated in the “noun modifying” form that we learned in Step 2. [link to Step 2]. Note that this ‘하다’ does not mean “to do,” but it means to say or to quote. This version of 하다 always follows 고. When you see 고 followed by 하다, it’s a clue that this is a quote/indirect quote of some sort. This “-다고 하는” is often contracted to “-다는.”

OK, let’s move onto the example you gave.

(저는) 지은이가 입학할 수 없다는 소문을 들었어요. 

The big envelope is: 저는 …을/를 들었어요 (I heard …). What did you 듣다? You heard a 소문. So our important construction is 저는 소문을 들었어요. That’s the “reporting noun” 소문 and a verb that goes with it (소문을 듣다, to hear a rumor). 

This example continues to describe the nature of the said-소문 (rumor). This is the component I listed above. 

지은이가 입학할 수 없다. 

And we see in the example, 지은이가 입학할 수 없다는 소문. This is where this breaks down into 고 하는 소문 – did you see it? final ending -다 + particle 고 + 하는 + reporting noun. 

So the example sentence really looks like: 

(저는) 고 하는 소문을 들었어요. ~ I heard a rumor that 지은이가 입학할 수 없다. (지은 cannot enroll into school) 

This all felt complicated, but if you follow the constructions, then it’s not so bad…. I promise! 

Now you can indirectly quote something you’ve heard, or something that someone else said, etc. Let’s use our “Tom said that he likes cake” example:

Tom said that he likes cake. -> Tom said that  -> 톰이 말했다.  -> 톰이 케이크를 좋아한다고 말했다. 

Let’s see the 다고 하는 in action. Here’s the "I heard that Tom said that he likes cake.” example: 

I heard that Tom said that he likes cake.-> (I heard) that Tom said that  -> (나는 들었다.) 톰이 말했다.  -> (나는 들었다.) 톰이 케이크를 좋아한다고 한다. -> 나는 톰이 케이크를 좋아한다고 하는 것을 들었다. -> 나는 톰이 케이크를 좋아한다는 것을 들었다. 

Ta-da! 

HTSK actually did a great job breaking this down. It mentions the ‘-다고’ and ‘-(이)라고’ forms and how you would conjugate it by tense, too. Once you get a hang of this construction, you’ll be able to recognize it and move forward. [link] 

OK, that’s all for today. I hope that made sense and it helped you understand one of the more complicated, but ubiquitous grammar forms of Korean T_T Let me know if you have any other questions or if I can clarify anything for you! 

[docholligay]

I'm gonna be honest I had to come to your blog for some reassurance that "feel bad for all femmes that are into butches" thing wasn't actually hatred because I've seen so much vitriol thrown at butches over the last couple years that my kneejerk reaction is to assume even something playful like that is hate. I'm glad it wasn't, but ugh I wish my brain hadn't been conditioned to assume that of people.

I think the couple of nasty comments I got actually come out of a couple things, and I’m glad you said this, because I think it’s something, we, as a people, need to talk about

(When I use ‘you’ in the context of this talk I mean ‘all y’all’ not you specifically) 

1. The point you made–People are so used to butch lesbians being attacked that there’s a knee-jerk desire to protec and attac. I UNDERSTAND THIS INTIMATELY, TRUST. 

2. You’re not gonna like this one–the second factor is a pretty uncharitable lack of reading comprehension. Not just in my post, i see this all the time, but I’ve read my post several times now, because I do in fact have a very aggressive communication style, and sometimes I come off TOTALLY wrong. But I think it’s tough to read what I said and take it as anything other than poking fun at how oblivious butches are about flirting, and how we as femmes end up hilariously tossing ourselves at them. 

3. Tumblr’s really really terrible pattern and impulse of seeing a post, looking at the reblogs and comments for something that pisses them off, and popping off about it devoid of any context. One person, that I had never seen in my life, reblogged it, directly from me, with the addition “Feel sorry for yourself, ugly” (which, hilariously, actually that was what I was doing, yes, I do, rest assured I have been this femme writing notes about coogne and hope you get the message) (It was deleted quickly because I assume they flipped over to my blog and figured out they made a mistake) Oh of raw curiosity, I went to my blog and searched ‘butch’ for the posts that come up not involving this. First was a huge fanfic, where you would have seen it used positively BUT NO ONE BLAMES ANYONE FOR NOT GOING THERE, but the next two were these: 

my (butch) friend E: I drank Hershey’s syrup out of the bottle as a kid. me: I drank soy sauce.my buddy D: there it is folks, the butch- femme dynamic.

Reasons my butch is crying:

today in the Buffalo Bill museum she felt sad that the buffalo no longer freely roam the Plains

Literally a 2 minute search could have told you this was probably being interpreted in an uncharitable way, but we don’t do that on tumblr, we shoot first and ask questions later, and that’s how stuff gets blown up to ridiculous proportions. Maybe don’t flybynight on blogs of people you don’t know and assume the worst of them. It does not take a lot of time to search key terms (my blog even has dates when you search! So you can see that maybe what I thought 3 years ago isn’t what I think now!) 

I really want all of my followers to read this, and think about this next time you want to pop off. 

It is important to be thoughtful in our criticisms, because these things are important, and popping off and crying wolf makes them look silly. 

Thoughtful literally just means sit and think about it. Check your facts. Stop reblogging stuff blindly. Please, for the love of God, Harumichi, chicken strips, whatever you need to swear to, stop and think to yourself: 

Am I reading what they really said? Is there another way to read this?

What does the rest of their blog indicate about this? Does this maybe ask a personal context I don’t have? 

Is this actually a big deal that requires a stranger’s intervention? –picking your battles is literally one of the hardest things to learn to do.

If I am unwilling to put my name to a criticism, do I truly believe it’s worth defending? Do I have the courage of my convictions? 

If a news story/scholarly thing: Let me google this really fast) PLEASE DO THIS BEFORE YOU REBLOG SHIT EVEN WITHOUT COMMENTARY OH MY GOD. (If I see that anime was a mistake thing passed around again, when he never fucking said that, I am…gonna lose it)  

I think you’ll find in general your experiences on tumblr are more positive and less anxiety prone if you just take on a little bit of this responsibility. For example me: I have a major major major major issue with people removing Tracer’s CA for art. It sucks. It’s disability erasure because her CA interferes with outfits or some dumb reason. When i see it, I go to a person’s blog, i check art tags, i try to figure out as much as I can before I speak to them about it ALWAYS UNDER MY ACTUAL NAME. 

It’s been largely positive! Not always, but often! (Actually its mostly the wide scale rebloggers/content ~curators~ who are really really terrible about this no matter how many times I message them and if it didn’t violate my own personal understanding of lashon hara I would absolutely at them and post about it ahah)

Anyway, you don’t have to agree with me, but I think it’s valuable to sit and think about these things, before you act. Sometimes I just take a walk! I’m impulsive as fuck and I need to not have access to answer for a few minutes. 

IN conclusion: I love butch lesbians, I think tumblr really needs to work on open communication