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cheolbooluvr · 4 years ago

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the secret garden

part of the confession series

pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader

genre: fluff, college!au

word count: 2.4k (these are no longer drabbles LMFAO)

warnings: none

a/n: lowkey am sorry for making wonwoo a bookworm bc i know that's so common, but i tried to add a bit more to it? idk, regardless, i hope you enjoy this and plz leave feedback if you'd like! always appreciated, thanks for reading <3

my masterlist ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

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“I feel like I’m going to tell [them] directly and honestly”

Wonwoo kind of hated you. Not you, but just how oblivious you could be sometimes, if not most of the time. It had been over a year since the two of you met in your advanced literature seminar and you were drawn to the way Wonwoo described the world around him. He could make even the most mundane of things into a beautiful string of words that flowed effortlessly one after the other. He had a special charm for making people fall in love with the little things in life, and it was especially hard for people not to fall in love with him.

But this wasn’t about him, this was about you and how you made him feel. You had approached him by the school garden after class one day asking if he had free time and wanted to talk about one of your assignments. He was already feeling pretty shy from the slew of compliments you gave him during the critique in class earlier, but he gladly accepted your invitation. Neither of you expected to spend the rest of your afternoon into the early evening talking about your favorite books and poets. By the time both of you had to head back to your dorms, you had exchanged numbers and it was him who suggested you “do this more often.” It would be a lie to say that he didn’t give you butterflies, but given everything you had heard about him not having dated anyone despite his popularity, you figured he just wasn’t interested in pursuing relationships.

And it was true, he wasn’t interested in anyone. At least not until he met you. Throughout your friendship, however, he found it incredibly easy to talk to you and open up about things he hadn’t even told his friends prior to you. You spent your days in bookstores reading and trying to find the best and worst stories. It was nice that you could just exist together in the same space, but somehow that filled a void in his heart he never knew existed, and you could easily say the same. At some point, he decided to start dropping hints. The works he recommended you were all about falling in love, talking about the sweet yet mortifying feeling of holding those feelings, yet you just thought he was a hopeless romantic. It was strongly engraved in your brain that Wonwoo simply wasn’t interested in dating and you had pushed any thoughts like that to the back of your mind for a long time.

But every once in a while, you wondered what it would be like if the two of you could be something more. Would you even be compatible? Did he even like you that way? You would shake those thoughts away as soon as they came to you, but recently, those thoughts became harder to fight off the more you spent time with him.

In the days leading up to your birthday, Wonwoo told you he had a surprise planned. This made you nervous because if you were being honest, as close as you two were, sometimes it was hard to read him. He wasn’t nearly open as the books you two often read. It could either go horribly or really well knowing him, but you didn’t have much of a say in the matter. “Just trust me,” he told you when you tried to pry for details. You took a sip of your iced mango green tea as he continued to read his book, a smirk forming on his lips. It made you hate how mischievous he could be sometimes, but there was nothing you could do to really change that, and maybe you liked it. Maybe you loved it. Maybe you loved him.

Your birthday fortunately fell on a Saturday, and being blessed to be a late spring baby, it was warm out. So far, the odds fell in your favor, but that didn’t do much to quell the nervousness building in your stomach. The night before, Wonwoo told you that you’d be going on a scavenger hunt and that was it. He also told you to dress kind of nice, but not too nice. Your phone dinged as you got ready to leave. Are you ready for your first hint? the text read. You replied yes, and he sent you a picture of camellias. You instantly knew where this was and you headed out from your dorm.

When you arrived at the school garden, you took a selfie to show him that you had arrived. When he saw your picture on his phone, his heart skipped a beat and he suddenly grew nervous as he waited for you to find him. Your next hint goes like this: A necessity to some, a treasure to many, I’m best enjoyed among pleasant company. Some like me hot, some like me cold. Some prefer mild, some like me bold. What am I?

It took you a minute before you figured out that he was referring to coffee, and if it was about coffee, then the next place he wanted you to go was to the cafe you two frequented. You took a selfie again, but this time, he told you to go inside and talk to Seokmin, the barista turned friend after he saw you two almost every day.

When you walked in, he greeted you with his signature grin. “Happy birthday!”

“Thank you!” you replied with a warm smile. You weren’t sure what Wonwoo wanted you to say to Seokmin, but you figured you might as well order “Can I get—”

“An iced mango green tea and an iced americano?” Seokmin grinned even wider. Despite that being what you and Wonwoo usually ordered, it still surprised you. “I got you covered,” he added, making sure to wink at you, too. He pulled the two drinks from behind the counter and pushed in your direction.

“Thanks, Seokmin,” you said, taking the drinks. You moved to pull out your wallet, but he reached over the counter and touched your arm gently.

“I told you, I got you covered,” he laughed.

“Are you sure?”

“Would it make you feel better if I told you Wonwoo actually already ordered and paid?” You felt your cheeks warm up, hoping he wouldn’t notice you blush at the mention of Wonwoo’s name. “Happy birthday again! Have fun on the rest of the scavenger hunt!”

You thanked him one more time and left. While you were talking to Seokmin, Wonwoo had already texted you your third hint. You set the drinks down on the table outside and read his message: What building on campus has the most stories? Your initial thought was the business building, so you made your way there. When you sent Wonwoo your selfie, he responded with a short and swift, nope. You sent him another selfie where you frowned and threatened to dump his drink in the planter next to you. He let out a low chuckle and told you to think about it some more.

“The most stories… most stories…” you mumbled to yourself. It then dawned on you that Wonwoo would never be so obvious as to ask you to find the building with the most floors, but the most stories. As in books. Because that was your common link. You almost sprinted at the rate you were going towards the library. When you arrived, you sent him yet another selfie and all he sent you was “😁👍.” He was probably inside at one of the tables, or so you thought. Except for a couple of students, the library was relatively empty and Wonwoo was nowhere to be seen. You wandered the aisles, hoping maybe he would have his head buried in a book as per usual. As you peeked in each aisle, he wasn’t there. “Wonwoo,” you whispered. No response. So, you texted him, where r u???

He responded, Fiction,G-I, so you headed to the fiction section where the G-I authors were. Your phone pinged with another message from him. PZ7 B934 Se 1962, the text read. You knew that was the number of a book, so you began to peruse the numerous spines to find the book he gave you. Finally, your finger landed on the exact one and you read the title, The Secret Garden. You quietly laughed to yourself at how clever he was. You put the book back, and in your excitement, you forgot to text him. Because of this, he thought it was taking you a while to find the book and he wondered if you couldn’t find it, or maybe someone had coincidentally checked the book out before you came. But that couldn’t be it, because he made sure to check it was there before you started your hunt.

“Found you!” you said, startling him. You laughed at how cute he was when he was caught off guard. He was wearing a simple beige button-down tee with khakis, and though the outfit was simple, you couldn’t help but admire how good he looked. The shirt fit his broad shoulders perfectly and wrapped around his now buff arms. He had been working out a lot recently, and it definitely showed.

“I was beginning to think something went wrong,” he laughed back, pushing his wireframes up his nose.

“What’s all this?” you asked, pointing to the table in the middle of the library garden. It was nicknamed the “Secret Garden” because it was tucked away just behind the library and students seldom found it. However, you and Wonwoo happened to stumble upon it one day when you couldn’t find a place to study in the library. Since then, you would come out here to study or read when the weather permitted. Because it was spring, the fruit trees were just beginning to blossom which were beautiful to look at, but your allergies hated it. You sneezed and a concerned look overcame Wonwoo’s face, but he chucked when you muttered, “Damn allergies.”

“Happy birthday,” he said, his face lighting up as he motioned to the table behind him. He grabbed his drink from you and led you to sit down. On the table were a couple of scones, muffins and sandwiches. “I wasn’t really sure what you liked, so I guessed.”

Whatever feelings you had tried to suppress before had risen to the surface of your heart. After all, how could you not maybe feel a little something after your friend went through all of this just for you?

The two of you began eating, but the longer he waited, the longer Wonwoo grew anxious. “So,” he began. You were in the middle of biting into a blueberry scone when you looked up at him. “Did you get the hints?”

“Well, duh,” you replied with your mouth full. He couldn’t help but laugh and be thankful at how comfortable you could be around him. “I made it here, didn’t I?”

“But you didn’t get my hints, did you?” he pressed further.

“I clearly did, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.” You were beginning to feel a little annoyed, thinking he was questioning your intelligence.

“No, not those hints.”

Now you were confused and your expression showed that. “What do you mean?”

Wonwoo took a deep breath in and a deep breath out, rocking back and forth as he wiped his clammy palms on his pant legs. “I figured as much,” he mumbled. “I guess I have to be more direct.”

“Direct? Direct about what?” It took a moment, but those suppressed feelings you had were at a raging boil now, and a million thoughts ran through your head. There was no way this was happening. Right?

“I have feelings for you,” he said calmly. “I’ve had feelings for you for a while, actually.” His sudden confession left you speechless as you nearly choked on your scone.

“Wonwoo…what—”

“Wait, let me finish before you say anything. I want to make sure I say everything I want to say before I forget.” You nodded, but your head began to spin as you tried to process his words. “Those hints I gave you today, they’re more than just hints. Each of those places were places where I fell for you. The school garden was where you first approached me and asked me to hang out.” It was then that you realized just how thoughtful and observant he was, and though he didn’t ever say much, Wonwoo was a man of many words. “Then there was the cafe where you and I would hang out almost everyday. It was there that I realized just how easy it was to talk to you and how much I enjoyed your company.”

The more he went on, the more you felt your chest tighten. You realized that you had forgotten to breathe at times, and so you tried to conspicuously maintain your breathing before you passed out.

He continued, “And finally, the Secret Garden. There wasn’t anything specific that you did here, but there was a day when we were just reading and I realized that I might be in love with you.” He paused, looking to you for some kind of reaction, but all your face showed was shock. He recalled that day when he glanced up from his book and you were nose deep in your own book. The sunlight hit you perfectly, outlining the edge of your face and engraving that image forever in his brain. “I know that this is probably a lot, but I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I had to be honest to you and to myself.”

Silence fell upon you. All that could be heard was the rustling of the wind through the trees and chirping birds. You two sat there as you tried to formulate the words to tell him how you felt. As time went on, Wonwoo worried that maybe he had just ruined a perfectly fine friendship, and that there was no way he could walk this back. But like he had told you, he had to be honest. The longer he kept it in, the worse he felt.

“Look,” he interrupted the silence. “I don’t want you to feel pressured to feel the same way or even have an answer for me right now. I just needed to get this off my—”

You stood up and leaned over the table, grabbing him by the collar. You pulled him in close before landing your lips on his. Pulling away, you leaned your forehead and grinned widely. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

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lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks · 4 years ago

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Oh my gosh so I also headcannon Jack as autistic! But im not comfortable with writing it yet because idk how. Im not autistic; my little sister is and i know a few things jack could have trouble with... but hes a grown ass man so i just dont know. Im definitely taking notes on what you write him as but could you give me some pointers?....maybe?

Im mostly referencing to Bitter with this

aaaa yeah it definitely presents differently in adults who've learned to mask, personally I don't plan to put certain things in specifically to talk about how he's autistic, I write with the background knowledge of what traits he displays, and then express them when relevant, it's relevant a lot with Jack simply due to how much it affects his life

now this is going to get long, so bare with me, because this is a whole lot more complicated than you might expect

there's really no one correct way to write Jack, since there's no one way that autism presents itself, the way I write him is based on a mix of myself and some people in my family, so I can give you a basic idea of what angle I personally come from

for one, I change the way I write about facial expressions and how emotions come across to Jack, in Jazz's chapters I'll write about the exact emotion she can see on their face, with Jack's I'll go with an obvious base emotion, but then if the person is expressing something more complicated, I'll describe their face in physical details

eg;

Jazz POV - Danny was upset, but his face was tight with frustration

Jack POV - Danny looked sad, but his eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth was set in a hard line

it's a subtle difference but it's one I try to maintain throughout Bitter, Jack's POV is based on how I have trouble reading non-obvious expressions, although in my case I also have trouble looking people in the face when I talk to them, that's harder to write in an emotion driven POV story, so I made Jack better at that than I am

his interest in machines is quite obvious, since he's an inventor, and he looooves infodumping on people, he gets very excited about his passions very quickly and his mouth runs off with him, something I also have trouble with, it hasn't been a prominent trait for Jack in Bitter, because he's so out of his element he's mostly confused and in a way, almost grieving his own death, so he's been far quieter than he usually is

his special interest is obviously ghosts and machinery, and in Bitter I cover that he's got a degree in engineering, physics and mathematics. He's good at them, I like to look at it as though Jack rolled high in intelligence and low in wisdom, he's book smart, he knows things that are straightforward and have firm rules, he's less comfortable in topics that are more wishy washy and vague, biology is complicated and has too many variables, he finds it difficult to grasp, there's no one standard rule that applies to every body

I also struggle with vague and unclear directions, I need a solid structure and clear instructions, my strength is in sorting, organising, alphabetising and colour coding, I like things to Look Right, I stick to a particular routine with very specific things, and it's viscerally uncomfortable and even distressing for me to have that order disturbed, I nearly had a meltdown at work because someone had done a part of my job incorrectly, and I had to fix it, it made me genuinely upset on a personal level, it was MY system, NOBODY should be touching it, NOBODY should be moving things around, they do anyway, and I spend a portion of my shifts just frustrated and on edge because of it

Jack also has issues socially, he often says or does things that other people find uncomfortable or embarrassing, I reference that in Bitter, where Jack assumes everyone is mad at him because he said or did something stupid, this I have much experience in, while in the middle of a social situation it's easy to just do what comes naturally to you and not realise it's off putting to other people, because people often play polite and you can't tell that they're uncomfortable, even though people around you find it painfully obvious

sometimes it's easy to see in hindsight after you've been told you made something awkward or uncomfortable, but in the moment if nobody says anything about it, you can remain either totally oblivious, or become anxious and second guess every interaction you have

Jack is the oblivious type, he's fortunate to live in a family that is fairly understanding, they might get frustrated with him, or embarrassed by him, but they don't really take it personally, they KNOW he means well, they know he cares, and Jack does care, he cares a lot, he feels things a lot, he's incredibly empathetic

this is a trait that a lot of media likes to ignore in depictions of autism, because I guess it makes people with autism seem 'too normal', when tv shows always want to be like 'hey wow look at this clever asshole! isn't he clever, but also an asshole! but you can't hate him because he's ✨autistic✨ and he can't help it'

that bothers me a lot, I mean some people with autism do have trouble relating and empathising with people, my brother is one of them, but some people with autism really empathise a lot, some of us feel things very strongly, I'm highly empathetic and it's a real struggle to cope with

so yeah, it is a very complicated thing, so you need to go in with an idea of what their character struggles with, how it affects them, and when it's relevant in the story, also autism falls on a very wide spectrum, some people, like myself, are able to mask well, but that creates a big issue with identity, when you start to wonder how much of you is real and how much of you is mask, then you have to decide if you want to lower that mask and accept the social consequences of expressing yourself naturally

I have a friend who presents a little more obviously, he's very rigid in his ways and he talks like he's reading from a script, I have another friend who can socialise just fine, but will go into a total meltdown when a plan gets derailed and she doesn't know what to do next

another friend I have is highly social and incredibly boisterous, she stims with her whole body, dances around a lot, she's chaotic and that can be off-putting to people, she's had to spend a lot of her life holding that back, she's only recently started learning how to be herself shamelessly

my brother was incredibly social when he was younger, and people always really loved him, but most of that is mask, he's socially anxious and just wants to be alone most of the time, and he's a total prick to his immediate family, I don't take that personally any more, since now I understand that he's so blunt and brutally honest because he isn't masking with us, but also he still needs to be called out when he oversteps, autism might be why he has difficulty empathising, but it's not an excuse to be a complete asshole, even people with autism need to be called out on shitty behaviour, it isn't a get out of jail free card, our self expression shouldn't come at the cost of hurting other people, most of us are more than capable of learning to not be an asshole

I know this is like, A LOT, but these are the things that need to be considered when writing about autism, it is an all encompassing thing that permeates your entire life experience, I absolutely welcome people like you to try to write about it! Because I think it shouldn't be a taboo subject, and I appreciate that you asked for advice and that you want to do it respectfully, you've probably seen first hand how difficult living with autism can be, having a family member on the spectrum, so you already have some experience to draw from, I don't know your relationship with your sister or how old she is, or where on the spectrum she falls, but if possible you can ask her about her experiences in particular situations that you're having trouble writing, if that's something you and she are comfortable with

I hope this helps, just remember to keep an open mind and listen to any feedback you might get, it is very VERY easy to misrepresent autism so don't be too hard on yourself if you don't quite get it right, if someone gives you a critique, take it in stride and use it to become better ~ you can even express that in an authors note, that you want to write it accurately and invite anyone with experience to share their opinion, because like I said, it is different for everyone and my experiences are not universal, and you're welcome to run something by me every once in a while if you aren't sure about it ❤️

#asks #autism #danny phantom #bitter #jack fenton #this shit be COMPLICATED y'all

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virtchandmoir · 3 years ago

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We Spoke To Olympic Champion Tessa Virtue About Her Career Change & Here’s What She Told Us

"I dream of launching my own business, for sure!"

June 21, 2021

The pandemic wasn't something anyone had anticipated happening, and it's impacted every aspect of people's lives, from how they live to the way they work, and even what it looks like to interact with friends and family.

Think about the way that your life has changed over the last year. Maybe you're working from home and have stopped going for weekly brunch with your pals. Perhaps catching up with your grandparents changed from in-person visits to phone calls. You might be using your laptop more than ever before to stay entertained, keep in touch or continue your education.

No doubt, having technology within easy reach has been particularly helpful for people adapting to this new way of life.

From catching up with loved ones over video calls when it wasn't safe to do so physically, to entire companies meeting virtually from every corner of the world, you could say that technology made getting through this pandemic possible.

Someone who's no stranger to transformation is Olympic and World Ice Dance Champion Tessa Virtue. Following her retirement from ice dancing, Virtue has moved on to the next chapter of her career. She's taking her competitive nature and winning attitude to the business world, pursuing her Executive MBA at Queen's University and starting a new job at one of Canada's leading consulting firms.

No doubt, having technology within easy reach has been particularly helpful for people adapting to this new way of life.

Virtue is adapting to this way of life and is doing her learning virtually, using products from Microsoft to help navigate this new and exciting path. With products like Microsoft 365, Surface Laptop Go, and Surface Duo, Microsoft has helped Virtue transition from the ice to the office seamlessly.

These products have also helped to make flexible work environments possible, as Virtue has seen firsthand in her transition to the workplace and classroom while working and learning from home.

In this interview with Narcity, Virtue discusses the next chapter of her career and the personal challenges that come with it, how COVID-19 has impacted her approach to her education and career, and how technology has helped her with that transition.

Questions and responses have been edited for clarity.

Let's start off by speaking about something that's affecting us all right now: the pandemic. These are challenging times. What's it been like for you? “What a strange and scary time it's been for everyone! Relatively speaking, I have been incredibly fortunate in that those closest to me have remained safe and healthy. And every day I am grateful to have a sense of purpose with both work and school!

“Grappling with such widespread uncertainty has meant turning inward for meaningful self-reflection and I'm emboldened by the outcome of that self-work. Thank you for asking!"

You announced your retirement from professional skating after more than two decades (and five Olympic medals) on the ice with partner Scott Moir. That must have been a huge transition. Can you tell our readers a little bit about your decision to retire from competitive ice dancing and take on new challenges? "I am completely obsessed with improving and learning! I knew it would be pertinent for me, once leaving sport, to set short-term, tangible goals that required the adoption of new skills and a sense of pressure (what can I say, I prefer to live in the "uncomfortable" to challenge myself!).

"Having worked on building my brand in the business realm 10+ years, I wanted to get a deeper understanding of the corporate landscape. Not to mention, after being defined by a job that was so physical in nature, part of me wants to prove my worth academically, too!

"My school experience has been abnormal from about grade four or five on, given the demands of training. Prioritizing education now feels like such a privilege!"

You've taken on the fashion and beauty industry with several collaborations. What drew you to take on the world of business and get an MBA? "I dream of launching my own business, for sure! But it's not something I take lightly and, if I pursue an entrepreneurial path, I want to do it right. I'm fortunate now to have been hired by a top consulting firm, where I can practically apply the lessons I'm learning in school and gain experience in various departments.

"By exposing myself to new and different roles, the goal is that I will then be able to develop a clear path forward. Even as I say that sentence, I get excited about future possibilities!"

What does your MBA journey look like right now? What do you hope to do after graduation? Will you launch your own business? "I dream of launching my own business, for sure! But it's not something I take lightly and, if I pursue an entrepreneurial path, I want to do it right. I'm fortunate now to have been hired by a top consulting firm, where I can practically apply the lessons I'm learning in school and gain experience in various departments.

"By exposing myself to new and different roles, the goal is that I will then be able to develop a clear path forward. Even as I say that sentence, I get excited about future possibilities!"

Would you say that the drive that you find as an Olympian is ever-present in your life? What skills as an athlete do you find are proving transferable in the business world? "It is amazing to me just how applicable the inherent skill set of an elite athlete is to the business realm (or in any life situation, really!). Goal setting, teamwork, resilience, embracing failure, managing pressure, and so much more!

"The difference is that athletes have the luxury of time to hone their craft — usually a very specific, repetitive task — mastering a particular technique or preparing to peak at one specific moment is paramount to success.

"Most executives, on the other hand, are expected perform at a high-level all the time, in all situations! One thing I'm observing most these days is that athletes crave feedback in a unique way that is not always reflected in corporate structures. I think remaining open to constructive critique — letting go of our egos — is one of the most valuable gifts!"

Transitioning from constantly being on the road and being a professional athlete to going back to school must have come with a steep learning curve. How do your Microsoft products help you feel competent and confident enough to take it on? "Training my brain to focus for long periods of time was one of the most difficult things, as was finding confidence! With the help of Microsoft Surface, I felt equipped to manage the heavy workload knowing my work, assignments, and correspondence were seamless, intuitive, and organized.

"The devices allow me to unlock my academic and professional potential by allowing me to optimize performance and productivity. And not only that, but they're also beautiful!!! As a skater, I desired excellence and valued innovation. The same is true now and that is reflected in my technology choices."

Knowing firsthand the challenges that can come from a career pivot, do you have anything you want to say to Narcity readers out there looking to make a change in their own lives? "Go for it! And if it is daunting and frightening, well, that probably means it's worthwhile! The magical meeting point of hard work and opportunity is where the joy lies, but it is completely unattainable if you don't take the risk."

As Virtue knows, and as we all have found out over the last year, the pandemic changed how we live our lives. With flexible work and learning here to stay, Microsoft's suite of products like Microsoft 365, Surface Laptop Go, and Surface Duo can help make navigating new careers and new challenges easier than ever. And until June 30, you can get $200 off the Surface Laptop Go - devices purchased through Microsoft Store on microsoft.com come with the Microsoft Store Promise with free 2-3 day shipping, an extended return policy, low price promise and expert help when you need it!

To learn more about Microsoft's products and how Tessa Virtue is using Surface to accelerate her career goals, visit the Microsoft website. To keep up with all the latest news, follow them on Instagram and Facebook.

—Narcity

#tessa #off ice #ambassadorship #microsoft #interview: narcity #constant feedback

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freddieofhearts · 4 years ago

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Bye bye, dears (for now!)

I know there have been a lot of rumours and some posts about me leaving, so here I am to set the record straight and say a quick ‘au revoir’. This post is long, and I don’t expect everyone to read the whole thing—if you just want information on how to keep in touch, or about access to my removed fics, scroll to the bottom. ⬇️

Why are you leaving?

Firstly, of course I’m not leaving Freddie. This is just an ongoing hiatus from the social side of fandom, because while I have some incredible friends here, who have done all they can to support me and have made this experience wonderful in lots of ways—it’s also true that the social space has become more and more toxic for me.

I get a wild amount of hate. Despite never having my ask box enabled on here, people create new accounts just to message me and tell me all the problems in this fandom are my fault, that I’m faking being sick, that I should kill myself, that I’m fat, etc. I also very regularly get hateful comments on AO3.

Obviously I realise that I’m not the only one who receives these cruel attacks, but it’s become increasingly hard to handle them—especially as some people (‘real’ accounts, not faceless anons) do continue to blame me for wider problems in the fandom. It makes me feel consistently sad, anxious, and paranoid, so that I can’t focus on anything Queen-related that I enjoy.

More pressingly, it’s affected my mental health, which is—imperfect at the best of times. As I’ve occasionally alluded to in older posts on this blog, I have a history of anorexia, OCD, PTSD, and some other overlapping issues. Most people who know me in the fandom are also aware that I’m ‘clinically extremely vulnerable’ to Covid-19, significantly immunocompromised, and have been isolating at home for eleven months.

The combination of all of these things + the constant toxic messages has really been triggering me, and leading to an uptick in disordered behaviours, which my body cannot sustain. Every new instance of hate from an anon—every time there’s another indication of groups in the fandom wanting to ostracise me further—my reaction is deeply self-punitive and unhealthy. Ultimately I need to be out of this environment for, at least, a protracted period. My therapist, my partner and my close friends in the fandom support this decision.

So, what went wrong?

In 2019, I expected to be an absolutely tiny blog in the Queen Tumblr landscape. The fandom was already well-established, and I have never worked to ‘build a following’ on here—I think I’ve linked my own fic a maximum of three or four times!—in fact, more or less the opposite. As I mentioned above: ya girl is nutty as a fruitcake. As a result, I often avoid extremely niche things in daily life which cause severe anxiety for me, Relevant examples here: I never look at my timeline. I never intentionally look at my follower number. Yup, it’s strange, I fully admit it, but it’s best for me to go with these things—usually. In Queen fandom, however, this avoidance both of analytic stats and of most direct engagement led to some problems... My followers grew without me realising, and way more people were reading my blog than I was aware of. I was still in a—“Wow, this fandom is very frustrating, and rife with ableism, racism, etc., so how do we fix this???”—mindset, and I wanted to share my opinions, sure! but I also thought I was sharing them with 15-20 like-minded people.

Now, intent is not impact, and I recognise that I was brusque, didn’t phrase things particularly sensitively, and absolutely did hurt some people by criticising the fandom so freely. I still regret this—and I regret just as much the fact that some assholes have used my criticising the fandom on my own blog as implicit justification for attacking authors. I have said on here many times that I don’t condone that behaviour—but I also think there’s some truth in the presumption that these anonymous malcontents felt my critiques somehow ‘permitted’ them to engage in abuse. For the first few months, though, I genuinely had no idea there was a link at all—and so I was initially slow to condemn this abusive behaviour in public, because I was taking it for granted all authors agreed it was shitty. It took someone directly telling me (shoutout to @a-froger-epic) that people had identified a connection between my posts and the anons, before everything fell into place.

I would like to offer my apologies to the fandom at large for not being more quick on the uptake about this, because I feel that had I realised sooner that these people were taking ‘inspiration’ in some way from me, it might have been easier to put a stop to it. It does seem that there is still a lot of confusion about whether I support them and which of their views I agree with. Let’s be 100% clear on this: I do not support the anonymous commenters on AO3. At times there is some, limited overlap between parts of their views and parts of mine, but even that is less than you may think—I often see anonymous comments from so-called ‘Freddie fans’ that I substantially disagree with.

Perhaps even more importantly: I do not support anyone who sends anonymous hate on Tumblr.

What’s all this about ‘overlap’ with the anons?

Let’s do a mini-summary of the myths vs. the truth. There are views I hold which are genuinely unpopular in the fandom—but which I own up to completely, and have never tried to hide in any way. I’ve never needed to use anonymous to share my opinions because I’m completely open about them! What people who don’t know me tend to have ‘heard’ about me, though, is usually a drastic distortion of my real opinions.

What people think I think:

- Freddie should never top.

- It’s okay to send anon hate if someone writes Freddie ‘wrong’.

- It’s more important to correct ‘wrong’ portrayals than to respect other writers.

- It’s inherently wrong to be more interested in band pairings than canon pairings.

- Freddie should be overtly written as a r*pe survivor/victim (and not doing this is wrong).

- Freddie should be overtly written as having an eating disorder (and not doing this is wrong).

- Kink fics are wrong.

What I actually think:

- I believe Freddie did have a strongly defined sexual identity with marked preferences, but I don’t think Jim Hutton lied when he said that Freddie topped. I believe Freddie did top, but this isn’t the time or place to get into my thoughts on why/when/how much. I do believe that my analysis of the sources relevant to this subject is as historically accurate as one can reasonably be in matters of sex (where historical accuracy will always be particularly limited and imperfect)—but I don’t think it’s morally wrong to write Freddie as topping more than he probably did.

- I don’t believe there’s only one ‘right’ version of Freddie (all others being ‘wrong’). I do believe it is possible to be more right or less right—but I’m also conscious of the fact that this scale of value is not one by which everyone measures fanfiction. As a result, then, I don’t think that any perceptions surrounding ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ justify sending anonymous, non-constructive criticism, or outright hate.

- I do believe constructive criticism is a good thing. I welcome and appreciate it myself; I have received it on my fics in Queen fandom, and it has made them better. I have been in writing workshops which included very forceful criticisms, and the value of such feedback has been intimately and immediately part of my life as a writer for years. However: in this case, I have accepted that my opinion differs from the general community preference, and so I no longer offer any constructive criticism (outside private beta-reading). I haven’t changed my view, but I’ve changed my practice to align with community norms.

- I do not think any single, individual writer has a personal responsibility to write about Freddie Mercury in any given way. That ranges from including the more distressing topics to which I’ve devoted attention (such as trauma)—to concentrating on ‘canon’ pairings like Jimercury—to, even, focusing on Freddie at all.

“Now, that doesn’t sound like you, @freddieofhearts,” you might be thinking. And I know it doesn’t; I think something I’ve done a poor job of articulating is the difference between how I view each individual fan—namely, as free to shape their creative experience at will, even in ways that I might find distressing or offensive; even in ways that you might find distressing or offensive—and the way I view the Collective. I think people have interpreted some of my critiques of ‘Queen Fandom’ as meaning something like: “You-in-particular, a specific Queen fan, are doing it wrong and should change everything about how you do it; also you don’t really care about Freddie.”

And—that’s not it. What any given fan, as an individual, does, isn’t a problem. And that can be true alongside—concurrently with—a multivalent critique of how the fandom is lacking in representation of Freddie’s life, with all that that (wonderful, deservedly celebrated, but also profoundly traumatic) life entailed. I still hold that view; I still have myriad problems with ‘the fandom’ (structurally, collectively, historically and presently—from the 1990s to the 2020s). Some of what I want to work on (away from the social life of fandom) is expressing those critiques with greater nuance, in ways that can’t be misinterpreted as shading any particular fanfiction author or subgenre of story.

In brief: I haven’t changed my mind, but I think Tumblr is an untenable environment in which to discuss the things I want to analyse, especially as there is an ever-present danger of hurting someone.

Can we keep in touch? Where is the fic?

I will drop by this account periodically to check out posts that friends have sent me, so you can always sent me a private message to ask for my contact details on the other app that I’m using now for fandom friends. Multiple Freddie conversations and projects are going on over there, off-Tumblr, with a much ‘gentler’ environment and no bad actors—I personally love it!

All my fic has been downloaded and saved. I don’t want to deal with constant harassment on AO3, but I’m happy to share a copy with anyone who missed it and wants to read/re-read something. I also saved everyone’s lovely comments and thoughtful con-crit, so none of that has been lost or erased.

Thank you to everyone who welcomed me to the fandom, made me think, taught me, shared with me, sent me into fits of the giggles, collaborated with me creatively, and otherwise made this one hell of a ride! Love you all. ❤️

#au revoir my dears #lil gay bby

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1dcraftawards · 4 years ago

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November Author of the Month...

Drumroll please.... our November Author of the Month is none other than the incredibly talented...

@all-things-fic !

Congratulations to a wonderful author, Liz! You can check out our interview with her below!

1.Did you start writing fanfiction for One Direction, or was there another fandom that you wrote fanfiction for before this?

I have one fic that I wrote for One Direction Fanfic Archive, that will never see the light of day. It was really awful, but everyone starts somewhere. I’ve shared it with two people on Tumblr and we just laughed about it.

I’ve also written a Niall Horan fic which has been flagged for how explicit it is, which is quite laughable as it’s tame in comparison to the Harry stuff (eek!)

2. How old were you when you started writing fanfiction?

I was a teenager when I first started writing fics. I don’t know if I would consider it “proper” fanfic though as it was riddled with cliches.

3. What’s been your favorite fic that you’ve written to work on so far?

For the longest time I was proud of the second part of Divorce Harry and specifically the second part. It just felt real to write. I can’t even explain what it is about that piece.

I think at the time it stemmed from an ask I received where I was asked if I was a parent - I’m not - but this someone said I portrayed aspects of a marriage and how children can tip the balance really well.

The sheer bitterness of two people in love and the juxtaposed feeling it brings was an interesting dynamic. Being bitter and in love? How? It happens. You love someone, but bloody hell don’t you hate at the same time.

And I think on the hand Quarantine Harry is the opposite side of the same coin. I love it because it’s so happy. When you’re smitten and basking. Your baby waking you up at 3am and meeting your husband on the landing with the freshly made bottle is a time to enjoy because you’re doing it together.

But soon enough the third child is sprawled out in your kingsize bed and their foot is pressed against your ribs and you're tired. This isn’t me saying the two stories are linked (I do get those theories quite a lot haha)

4. Do you prefer AU or OU?

Definitely more of an OU gal. I’m massively into writing things “realistically” because I think it’s so relatable and helps draw readers in more so. Especially if the writing uses and references visuals that readers are aware of.

5. What’s your favorite trope to write?

Would we call a long-term relationship / established relationship a trope? If so then this is my favourite. Writing characters who know how to push each other’s buttons, knowing what they can and can’t say to get the other going. Being able to write two people who can share as little as a glance and know what the other is feeling.

Sprinkle a bit of angst on the top for good measure.

That’s my kryptonite.

6. What’s your ideal space to write in?

I tend to write when I’m in bed quite a bit, usually really late at night and on my phone rather than my laptop. Often lying in the dark. Sometimes first thing in a morning.

7. How do you get motivation to write?

This one made me laugh considering I’m unable to finish a single piece of writing at the minute.

Pictures are quite inspiring. New images of Harry can usually start something in me. The images of him in the whacky joggers for example from set have inspired a scene in Quarantine Harry (who knows for which part just yet!).

8. Do you typically like to listen to music when you write? If so, what do you listen to?

Very rarely listen to anything when I write, I tend to like silence really. Sometimes this is so I can dictate into my phone.

9. Your dialogue is some of the best I’ve ever read on tumblr, how do you plan conversations in your fics?

Thank you for the compliment, it’s really nice to read that you think so highly of my dialogue. I don’t really plan them - conversations or my fics. I’m quite visual in how I write, so anything that you’ve read I’ve most likely had it play out in my mind and typed it as it’s moved. For dialogue I tend to speak out loud as I’m typing to try and get the pacing right for the conversation.

No, I don’t try to do a Manc accent… Just in case anyone is wondering haha!

10. What is your writing process like?

I write what I see and then hope it fits. Honestly it’s pretty chaotic. The only time I tend to plan is when I’ve got a lot of different scenes written and I need to know if they’re suitable for an update or what order to place them.

Then I read through them and think about the characters and how they would be a certain time and move the documents into another document. Then I close all the tabs and cry cause my motivation is nonexistent.

11. What’s been your favorite scene to write from Quarantine Harry?

One that hasn’t been shared haha! I’m joking (maybe).

From part one my favourite bit has to be the part where she makes up with him by taking him a cuppa and he gets a dig in about how she hasn’t brought any biscuits with her. Also the bit where he says “come an’ love me” meaning he wants to cuddle. I’m quite conscious I don’t really ever write soppy fics, so when I’m writing “fluffy” aspects they’re more so everyday affections. Like, you know someone is properly in love with you when they’re doing the washing up cause you’re busy, or they’re taking out the bins on bin day. That kinda thing.

From part two absolutely the entirety of the morning where she takes the pregnancy test. That was the part I had as clear as day and I worked backwards to the opening scene. I really loved the idea of Harry knowing his partner is pregnant before said partner knows. Him knowing his lovers body like the back of his hand so much so that he’s able to pick up on the smallest of things. I knew I had to write it.

And how he casually suggested she took the test, by pressing a kiss into her back. His face finding that test and then being an insufferable sod and pleased with himself cause he’s in the know about the outcome before the MC.

12. Is there a schedule you follow in terms of when you write? Or are you more impulsive and just write where and when you can?

So impulsive it’s actually embarrassing. I cringe at myself. I know I’ve mentioned this loads but I really write what I see. So if I’m not seeing anything, I’m not writing. It’s quite frustrating.

13. What is one thing you wish you would’ve known before you started writing?

To not talk about your writing before you’ve finished it. I feel like I massively let people down when I post sneak peeks and then I can’t deliver because life gets on top of me!

14. What do you prefer writing, multi-chaptered fics or one shots?

One shots and then if they develop into something more that can be exciting!

15. What's your secret to portraying such a complex and interesting relationship between your main characters??

Personal trauma…… *tumbleweed at another one of my poorly thought out jokes*

I’m a bit stumped on how to answer this one. I think being well read(ish) helps you create complex characters and relationships, not saying that I am but I’ve read a fair few books. Life in general helps too, sometimes personal relationships. Just growing up. My fic when I was younger was nowhere near the type of things I’m writing now but I’ve got a couple (okay, more than a couple!) of years on myself since then.

I think just apply your own lived experiences and call upon emotions you may have felt through certain times that you’re writing should you have experience it.

Partly I also think so many of us are a little bit nosy. Sometimes we all kinda want to be the fly on the wall in the home of couples to see if everything is a rosy as it seems or as intimate. Or whether it is just raw passion with a couple of arguments thrown in for good measure.

16. What Harry era/mood/look/vibe/song/etc. do you get most inspired by?

What’s weird is my favourite era of Harry is 2014, but I wouldn’t want to write him like that. The current Harry is quite marvellous. I’ve never known anyone like him, he really is fine wine (the real album title…. ‘we’ll be a fine wine’)

If you’re asking what mood I like to see him in, it’s either when he's pensive and looks a touch pissed off with a crease to his brow or when you watch his joke his eyes before he’s even said it and he’s amused/pleased with himself.

His current look, mainly late 2019/2020 is quite something (hence the quarantine fics)

I tend not to get inspired by his songs but my two faves if I had to pick would be Woman and TBSL. I think they’re massive Scorpio energy and would make great premises for a one shot sometime!

I’m not sure if I even answered this how you wanted it answer but hopefully it was something haha!

17. Who or what inspired you to start writing?

I’ve always loved writing, I think it’s because I do a lot of it with my line of work. The person that gave me the push on this site was actually an account called @meetyourmouths. The lovely Iz is no longer on tumblr but she wrote a Harry piece that just made me think ‘fuck it’ and I posted Practicing. If you go to that piece the authors note makes mention to Iz.

I would also say @stylishmuser was one of the first people to reach out to me and be encouraging which has always stuck with me. Massive love for, P and still talk to her all these years on.

I’m now sat here thinking about listing all the lovely lovely people who have been so nice to me both in regards to writing and outside of it and I’m conscious I’m not mentioning them. The troubles of being a bit of a people pleaser. Hopefully those people know I love ‘em… You know?

18. Some readers are wary of leaving feedback because they're unsure how the writer will take it, how do you personally like to receive feedback? Do you want to be critiqued, or would you like to just know if they did or didn't enjoy what they've read?

First thing I’d say is please don’t ever think as readers you can’t be negative. Sure there is a way to present the feedback to the author cause writing can be quite personal, but everyone has room for growth.

Just come chat to me. Can be about anything and everything. A simple ‘loved the update’ to ‘this bit was rubbish’. I’m open to all feedback.

One thing to remember is there are a lot of writers out there so there is something for everybody. If a fic isn’t for you there are tons out there waiting for you to go and grab ‘em!

19. Is writing a hobby or do you have aspirations of writing professionally outside of fanfiction?

I used to think it was mainly more so a hobby, and I do still lean towards this. However, now I’m not so sure. My problem is I tend to have long spells of not being able to find balance in my ‘real life’ job and the extra-curricular stuff.

I’m dragging myself here but I don’t think my fics have much plot to them. I’m more so about writing the everyday life and I don’t think there is a market for that really (unless you have something explosive happen somewhere).

20. And finally, What's your purpose for writing? What do you hope to accomplish?

For a while I wanted to write Harry being insufferably British. I found it quite hard to find writings that I thought wrote him using Britsh-isms (is this even a thing?) and types of phrases that are common over this side of the pond. I wanted to put that out there for someone who may have once felt like me.

Mostly, I just want to put pieces out that take people elsewhere, even if only for a couple of minutes. A lot of the world is a bleak place, if you find my little corner on tumblr and it makes you smile, that’s achieved something, hasn't it?

#author of the month #aom #November2020 #aomnovember2020

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wizardessheartprincess · 5 years ago

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Bold of u to assume i have a title in mind (prologue, part 1/?)

Pairing; bakugou katsuki x reader

A/N; new au: reader’s sending out surveys and somehow one respondent makes it into a competition; reader is not paid enough to deal with this. So many wild assumptions, even the economics major in me is reeling. Many corners were cut. I’m mostly sorry. only ooc in this household. shoutout to @lady-bakuhoe whose incredible existence was the impetus for me to write a fic for the first time in 2 years. will i continue this? who knows!

edit: part 2 is here (x)

Your eyes are drawn to the little black text box that pops up in the bottom right corner of your screen - a new email. The subject line - a reply to the email you haven’t even finished sending to all the recipients yet.

You click into the notification, expecting it to be one of the business students critiquing your survey design - but no, it’s… from the Hero Course. Funny, since they’re usually off training, and you have to nag most of them multiple times to answer emails, even with the giant “[ACTION REQUIRED]” tag in the subject line.

You sit up from where you’re lazily draped over the bed, kicking aside the blanket as you decide to act more professional when you’re technically still on the clock for work. You shuffle over to the desk, gently placing your laptop on top of it before you’re much less gentle with how you plop yourself into the chair.

The survey was an exercise for the Support Course - meant to develop your communication skills with the heroes you would one day aid in their work. That meant designing a survey that your heroic audience would actually take the time to answer accurately, while providing you with feedback on your designs.

Your specialty was in aerodynamics and chemistry - and the Hero Course student you most wanted to design for was Bakugou Katsuki. It was just your luck that he was also probably the worst “client” to work for… at least from what you’d heard from your classmates. Abrasive, picky, and downright destructive of his equipment - those were your classmates’ chief complaints about him. But while of course, you understood their annoyance at having to remake his costume every time he ran off into a new scuffle, part of you was attracted to the qualities that others seemed to hate. He was aggressive, and harsh on his support items, yes, but he demanded the best out of his own performance, too. It went both ways. Personally, you appreciated that he knew exactly what he needed, and you’d be happy to try to deliver-

It absolutely sucked, having two desires conflicting like this - one, to dive headfirst into your inventions, to create boundlessly, to really make an impact on the world through the users of your gifts - but the other, to simply create without having to interact with others. You envied people like Hatsume, who seemed to have endless energy to pour into marketing, to not just make, but also share. You?

You had an equal ratio of 3D print files and trashed concept art, and a 100:0 ratio of ideas to actually publicized ideas.

Sure, you’d tossed some small inventions into the metaphorical ring before, to some praise and interest from major support companies, but you’d always been too damn shy to really push anything to come out of those initial sparks of interest.

You opened the email, drafting the survey you were originally planning to send out to Todoroki. He could wait.

Above the answers - quite thoughtfully composed, actually - was a note.

“Is this the fastest reply you’ve gotten?”

I quietly snort. Seriously? Not everything has to be a competition. But based on the way he acted in the Sports Festival (and everywhere else, let’s be honest)… you’re not entirely surprised.

You pause, curiously skimming his answers, slowing down every now and then so you can reciprocate his thoughts with your own, already brimming with fresh concepts to incorporate into existing designs.

And... as much as you’d like to spiral into sketches and notes on how to buffer the shock wave effect of his large explosions on his own body, more complex biologic drug compounds to prevent any pulmonary issues from his quirk, and the possibility of adding an automatic shock wave source to his hero costume that would provide destructive interference with any aftershocks of his explosions that might put too much pressure on his body -

First.

You check the reply time - he replied nineteen minutes after you sent the initial email.

You hit the reply button.

“Dear Bakugou -

Thank you for the prompt and thorough response! Unfortunately, Midoriya responded to the last survey in eighteen minutes - just a minute before you.

- Y/N”

You hit send, and navigate promptly to the drafted email you were working on just before this one. While you could just mass email everyone, you’ve found that personalizing the emails generally gets better response and completion rates. Still, you’ve barely typed out Todoroki’s name before another notification pops up -

“Did I beat it yet?” is the entire contents of the email.

You can’t help but smile a little - and you almost just reply with a short “Yes : )” and leave it at that, but…

This opportunity doesn’t come every day. You look at the clock - technically, you could stop now if you wanted. Even on school nights, you’re encouraged to generally stop working before it gets too late, to refresh your mind periodically. Still…

You open your files, navigating to the folder you have for Bakugou. While you have a folder for pretty much every student in the Hero Course, you’ve spent much more time designing possibilities for Bakugou’s costume, the potential of a better aerodynamic and versatile all-around tool for him to use in battle.

- Not that you’ve ever really shown these designs to anyone, let alone the person they were customized for.

But…

Screw it.

You attach a couple of files to your reply email.

“You beat the record.”

You make no written mention of the files - hopefully, he’ll see them anyway, because you have no idea how to introduce them out of the blue. Honestly, he’s probably too busy to study them too in-depth, and it’s just as well if he doesn’t notice the attachments, anyway. Maybe they’re not that useful after all.

You hit send again.

It’s hours later when your phone lights up and dings with another notification - you sit up groggily in bed, trying to reach for it while cursing that you forgot to turn your notifications off overnight - when you see it’s another reply from Bakugou. Instantly, you’re awake, as if the man himself had come into your room and directed an explosion into your face.

Did he see your designs?

You scramble to tap on the email in your inbox, accidentally clicking into a reply from Kirishima that you instantly close out of, before you stop, and it’s as if the night has its own inertia in the still silence.

“Can I talk to you about these tomorrow?”

Your throat goes dry - you swing your legs out of bed, and toddle to your desk again, turning on the room lights on your way. Flipping up your laptop screen again, you open all the 3D print iteration files, the word documents of notes, the code and corresponding comments, the CAD models, from Bakugou’s folder - there’s no way you’ll be able to sleep tonight.

Then, finally, you respond.

“What time?”

#bakugou x reader #i did wayyyy too much research on anti explosion building engineering and aerodynamics of shock waves for this #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha fanfiction

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aijee · 4 years ago

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thoughts on “the price of mirrors”

My head is such a tumultuous storm of thoughts right now (very thematic, too, since it stormed where I live just yesterday). But life is too short to not document what felt like a really meaningful and formative writing experience. My (very long) thoughts about “the price of mirrors” below the cut:

I’m writing this during the COVID-19 crisis. Quarantine has been a, understandably, very isolating experience for many. I’ve been living on my own for a few years already, but the self-isolation has been quite difficult and melancholy. I think “the price of mirrors” was an unconscious way for me to process that loneliness I was feeling. I first watched The Great Happiness Space documentary a long time ago and revisited it last month after stumbling on more recent Youtube videos about hosting. I remembered, “Ah, I’ve always wanted to write about those loud and drowning spaces, that experience of luxury and loneliness, the desperation for love and acceptance.” The dynamic of host/clients reminded me so much of idol/K-Pop fans, many of whom go to incredible, sometimes dangerous and unhealthy lengths for their faves. I, too, was very lonely when I was younger and used K-Pop as my crutch. But how far will that dependence go for others?

Wonwoo and Mingyu (as the fic characters, not the people themselves) are meant to represent two sides of the same coin: daytime news limelight versus shady nighttime activities. Both must be experts in their words and careful of who they trust. Both bottle up who they are because of the worlds around them, leaving them to often be “someone else” in order to do their job, which itself is closely tied to their sense of purpose (e.g. Mingyu “helping” clients) and self-worth (e.g. Wonwoo getting recognition for his writing). Work culture in Korea, and many Asian countries in general, is very serious and can impede on mental and physical health. Take your role seriously and be a good cog in society’s machine.

Names are a very important motif in the story. As Mingyu tells Wonwoo, he knows just how important names are. Idols, even those with stage names, give their names and personal history to their jobs. In the K-Pop world, are the people on screen known as “Mingyu” and “Wonwoo” the same “Mingyu” and “Wonwoo” in real life? No. But the line distinguishing fantasy and reality is so blurred because of the idol system itself. This is very prevalent in J-Pop idol culture, too, which is what K-Pop idol culture was based on. An academic paper I read discussed the over-saturation of digital images in everyday life in technologically-advanced Japan (computers, digital billboards, changing picture screens in restaurants and subways, etc.). This mixes fantasy with the real world. The digital aspect isn’t played up in the fic since it’s less relevant in hosting than in idol culture, but Wonwoo still constantly struggles to figure out which parts of Mingyu are real or fake, or if there’s a black-and-white way to analyze Mingyu at all. The same can be said for idols, who are trained to sell fantasies while still being “real.”

But names are still YOU, still a complex person with flaws and feelings. Mingyu is ready to give his away because he believes in instant openness without thinking about the repercussions for the sake of doing his “role” well. Wonwoo is the opposite because journalism is a vicious arena of keeping/losing privacy, critiques, downright hate in feedback, etc. Wonwoo addresses his journal entries to Joshua because it gives him mental direction—a familiar friendly face—in expressing his thoughts. Pretty much none of the more important clients are named. Even the hosts only refer to clients by pet names, which clients eventually feel like they embody to the host. (Imagine being called “love” every time a handsome guy sees you—is it hard to start believing that he truly does love you?)

Time is also an important motif, most obviously represented by Mingyu’s watch. It’s a simple one and yet it��s incredibly expensive. This is actually based on a famous watch owned by a racecar driver (I think), which became sought after because he became famous, and the watch was one-of-a-kind despite being so simple and relatively cheap at the time it was first bought. In the fic, the watch represents the preciousness of simplicity in how you spend your time. This is achieved chiefly through Mingyu’s simple dinner with Wonwoo, but also just through their more casual conversations throughout the story.

The watch also represents the time that needs to be let go of before a new time in your life can start. Mingyu’s ex-client gave it to him before going on a blind date and meeting her future husband. Mingyu gave it to Wonwoo after deciding to move on from hosting life to start finding new meaning. Both the client and Mingyu had strong feelings for their respective recipients. What were those feelings? Who knows? Not all feelings need words to be felt or expressed. (And MinWon went on a blind date instead of Mingyu finding a new flame but that’s neither here nor there lmao.)

I’m honestly just rambling at this point, so I’ll leave it there. Aaah there are so many more things I wanna write about!! (Precarity is a real phenomenon that fuels host club culture!!! This is what I use my university resources for omg.)

Kudos and much thanks to anyone who took the time to read this!! I definitely overthought, over-planned, and over-researched for a K-Pop fic that probably won’t get much traction these days, but I genuinely enjoyed writing “the price of mirrors” so damn much and will be reading it over and over myself. If you’re not writing for yourself, then you’re doing it wrong!

#aijeepost #shut up me

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totallypathet · 5 years ago

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Episode Eleven

Finally, some good fucking mini challenge. Everybody loves puppets! I always love the puppet challenge, it's good old fashioned drag race fun!

It looked like the girls were having a good time, lost of them did a good job... except Gigi. Gigi was just hard to watch. It's becoming a bit of a theme, and it's a shame. I also actually didn't think Jaida's was funny? They put laugh sounds (the trademark Roople cackle) over it, but she didn't tell any jokes, and she didn't deliver it like comedy. At least, not in the edit they showed.

Anyway, the main challenge for this week was to write a one woman show! I was a little bit confused by the assignment, I wasn't sure if it was meant to all be comedy, or how far they were allowed to extend into other avenues. I also think 5 minutes is tough for a one woman show, it's not a lot of time to do more than one thing - so essentially you just end up with a comedy routine anyway. It was a bit bizarre.

And the guest judge was the legendary Whoopi Goldberg!!! I love Whoopi so much, I was so excited to see her on there! And she was a really great mentor and judge! She coached them all well, gave them good constructive feedback on their routines, and as a judge she was so constructive and good natured and funny! I just adore her.

Anyway, now the fangirling is done, let's break down this week...

1. Crystal Methyd

Crystal won a challenge!!! It's been such a long time coming, and oh my god she deserved it so much this week! Her show had me rolling, it was so absurd and ridiculous, I just loved it! And she was clearly having such a ball doing it, and we all know that's my favourite thing to watch. In fact, that was my favourite Whoopi critique, was when Ceystal was talking about how she wanted to make people laugh, and Whoopi said "So make it fun for you." Because that's 100% right, like most of the time if we (the audience) see someone is having fun, we'll have fun with them. Such an important lesson.

And Phenomenal Phil ended up being the absolute funniest one up there! Crystal gave us fun, she gave us absurd, she had puns, she had ridiculous dance moves, she had everything for me. I was so proud, the whole way through, because I felt like we were watching pure, unfiltered, unbothered Crystal Methyd. And she wasn't worried about being too weird, or if she was making everybody in the room laugh, she was just rolling with it, and enjoying it.

Also I loved her look! Again, such pure Crystal, I was tripping balls and I loved it.

10/10 for me this week, she deserved that win, and she deserves her spot in the top 4.

2. Gigi Goode

Gigi is literally unravelling before our eyes, and its genuinely really hard to watch. I think it's really getting to her now that she really does have serious competition, and she doesn't know how to handle it.

Her concept was really funny, and she had some great jokes in there, she had a great character as well, but Ross was right, it felt so scripted. She didn't trust herself to ad-lib in sections that the audience were really enjoying, she was too busy thinking about what her next line was, and it made it too stilted. It was a shame, because it had so much potential.

Having said all that, "go fuck yourself, Gary" was probably my favourite line of the night, because it just came out of nowhere for me. It's interesting, I think it felt worse somehow that there were parts that were really funny. I think 5 minutes of average laughter seems kind of fine - but if one joke gets raucous laughter, the silence is real obvious if the next joke fails.

Her runway was cute. I caught the reference, she looked good, she did the assignment. It wasn't anything special, which is (unfortunately) where most of Gigi's looks for the last few weeks have been for me. Given how she came in, with 4 incredible looks in episode 1, I've been disappointed.

3. Heidi N Closet/Heidi Afrodite

I feel so sad that Heidi's gone, I really thought she was going to make top 4. I feel like she's come such a long way from episode 1, and honestly no-one has charisma like Heidi has charisma. Also what am I going to do without her confessionals? Her, Widow and Jaida were carrying those confessionals, and now there's only Jaida left? Devastating.

But, unfortunately, she did deserve to go this week. Her performance was the worst. I honestly think there were too many characters. Also it was impossible to tell who was who, I think she needed differentiators, like Jackie had with the different glasses. I think she could have done one of 2 things; reduced the characters to just two, so it was easier to follow, or make the confusion part of the comedy. Like, it would have been really funny if she'd had these 4 characters, and she was running around trying to play them all and getting the wrong voice or accessory, like "granny why are you talking like Slick?", or "give me back my glasses Sharon!", and it just ended up like "who are you again?" and just really play into that confusion. I wonder if she was trying to keep it too close to life, and forgot to exaggerate the comedy. It was unfortunate.

Her runway thooooough. That dress was so beautiful, and honestly her face was (I think) the prettiest it's been for the whole competition. The only shame about it was that that's not a lip syncing gown. Particularly not a Prince lip syncing gown. But it was stunning, she went out looking beautiful, with her head held high, and with such a bright future. I can't wait to see what she does next!

4. Jackie Cox

Jackie pulled it out this week. She did such a great show, it was funny, it was heartwarming, it was personal, and it told us so much about Jackie. I think Whoopi's coaching really stuck with her, when she said that she doesn't do stand up because she's not funny, she tells stories? I think they resonated with Jackie, and maybe took a little of the comedy pressure off, and gave her space to do something a little more personal, and tell her story, and not worry about telling jokes. I think that freedom really opened the space for natural humour, and I think Jackie is naturally funny! She did an excellent job this week, and I was so proud.

Her look this week, I enjoyed; it was high concept, high drag, but also really fun! I didn't get the reference at all, I think it's to a song, but I have never heard it. But honestly that didn't even matter, I thought she looked like a haute couture grinch. It was out of the box for Jackie, not at all what I expected, and I loved it.

5. Jaida Essence Hall

I think Ross nailed Jaida's performance when he said "I bet it was hilarious when she called her best friend and told that story". Because I bet it was! Shit, I'd laugh if my best friend called me up and told me that story, but it just didn't work in a stage context. It was a real shame, because I could see that she was trying, and that she knew it wasn't working. Jaida was in a really tough spot this week, because she went on after someone sho has no idea how to shut up and stayed on stage 12 minutes longer than she should have. Honestly, I dont know why they let her keep talking, they should have signalled her and stopped her.

Anyway, Jaida had to follow that, and honestly the best thing she could have done when she walked out there was acknowledge it. Say something like "I did have a story to tell you, but I've forgotten it now." Change the energy of the room. Honestly though, I think Jaida had the same problem as Gigi, she didn't trust herself. She knew that the audience wasn't feeling her story, I wish she'd just trusted that feeling and cut it off, done something different and tried to get the audience back on side.

All of that aside, she had (I think) the best look on the runway. It was so sleek, so chic, and so gorgeous. I loved it so much, she felt like a fashion front cover. Which, to be fair, she does most of the time.

She did deserve to be in the bottom this week, but she also really deserved to stay, and she really deserves her place in the top 4 as well.

So next week is the last week before the reunion! From the preview, it looks like they're all wearing their entrance looks again, so I'm excited to see what that's about. I'm also wondering how they're going to do the reunion. Will it be the same, just with more distance between the chairs? Will they do it by a zoom call? Will they just wait until this is over? Who knows!

One other thing I do really want to know though, is can Dahlia Sin finally go home now? She was eliminated first, and instead of letting her go home to her loved ones for comfort, they said no, stay and wear this broccoli costume every week and we'll use you as a sight gag. Honestly, poor Dahlia. That's going to become her oppalance, her Miss Vanjie, her cucu.

#drag race season 12 #drage race #drag race spoilers #rpdr #rpdr12 #rpdr spoilers #crystal methyd #heidi afrodite #heidi n closet #gigi goode #jackie cox #jaida essence hall

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saramelcky · 5 years ago

Text

Fragments - Chapter 2

Bucky Barnes x Mom!reader

Summary: Y/n searches Grace with Bucky, meeting Sam for the first time. As the two come back home, Bucky deals with Sam’s teasing and opens up with Wanda. At the same time, Y/n gives some explanations to her friend, wrapping up the day.

Word count: 2.3k

Chapter Warning: Sam being a dick. A few insecurities. Is fluff a warning?

A/N: Okay folks, I don’t like this chapter at all. Yes, Grace is cute, but isn’t she always? So, I don’t have a lot to say, but if you expect some romance soon, well it will be awkward, like a lot. Feedback and critique are well welcomed. Please don’t repost any of my stories without my permission but reblog if you want to!

Fragments Masterlist

Little steps echo through the common floor corridor, the little girl is wandering through the tower without a goal, she takes the lift and when requested she asks FRIDAY to take her to the fourteenth floor (as it is the biggest number she knows) and arrives in this big, dark corridor with only two doors, one of them semi-opened and with the light on inside. Giggling, she runs to the light and spies through the door.

“BOO!” The little girl shouts opening the door wide.

In the room, there is a man who, hearing the sudden scream, grabs a pillow and almost throws it at the door but stops instantly when he realizes there is a kid there giggling at him.

“Who are you kid?” The man asks.

“I’m Grace.” she says with a big smile.

“Hi Grace, what are you doing here?”

“I broke my arm. What’s your name?” She shifts from a sad face to a happy one in a couple of seconds and this makes the man in front of her concerned and confused.

“I’m Sam, what do you mean you broke your arm, can I see it?” He worries.

“I was at the park and I fell back, a big man helped me and took me here.” Grace explains staying partially behind the wall.

“And do you know this man?” He inquires right before going next to her to see her broken arm

“My mommy called him Bucket, I think.” she responds.

“Oh, you mean Barnes. I knew he was a part of this.” He mutters “Can you please give me your hand so I can see how bad your arm is?”

“My mommy has my broken arm," she responds showing him both of her arms, "I don’t have it.”

He notices the stump under the sleeve and realizes what Bucky has in his mind. “Alright, is your mom with Bucky?” Sam asks taking the kid’s left hand.

“Yes, Bucket was hugging my mommy because she was happy.” Grace answers walking to the elevator

“FRIDAY, where’s Barnes?” He demands the AI.

“Mr. Barnes is in the gym on the tenth floor with a guest” she informs them

“Take us there.” Sam adds

The elevator is still there from before and takes them to the gym. “Don’t let go okay? Stay near me” Sam directs the child, who nods.

“It’s incredible, I’ve lost my daughter in the fricking Avengers tower. I’m such a bad mom” Y/n mutters to herself

“You are not a bad mother; you don’t know how many times Steve ran away from me or his ma” Bucky chuckles

“How could you hear that?” She genuinely asks “I was almost thinking it” she laughs as it is incredible

“Enhanced hearing,” he explains as it was normal for him "you know, super soldier and stuff.”

“Ohhh, right. I’m sorry I must have sounded rude” she apologizes.

“Not at all, it’s common being interested in...me. God this sounded really bad” he responds blushing a little.

“We, um, I think we should search Grace on the next floor.” Y/n suggests before hearing the elevator opening.

“Don’t let go okay? Stay near me” she hears a masculine voice talking. She looks at Bucky who recognizes the voice.

“Sam? Is that you?” He asks looking out in the hallway. Seeing his friend with the little girl frees him from a weight he hasn’t realized he was holding.

“Y/n! I’ve found her” he tells her.

“Oh, dear god, Grace! Why did you go away?” Y/n rushes, picking her up.

“You were hugging Bucket and I was curious” the girl admits “but I made a new friend, he’s Sam! I scared him before, but he became my friend anyway” she bubbles.

“You scared Sam? How?” Bucky teases laughing.

“Oh, shut up Bucket” Sam responds marking the mangled name.

“How did you call me?” He dares his friend.

“You heard what the little girl said” Sam rebuts.

Grace is laughing at their bickering, they seem more like children than avengers, but it’s just how they are.

“Okay, that’s enough guys! Bucky, I think we need to go home. If you leave me a contact, we can arrange a date to take the measurements, is that alright?” Y/n interrupts the men.

“Yeah, I can leave you my number” Sam nudges him on the side “Or my email, you know I’m learning more about technology every day” he laughs a little.

“Your number is fine, I guess” she blushes a little “I only have the commercial email and it would be a mess, I’m sorry.” she explains, trying to take out her phone while holding Grace.

“Wait, just put your number here, I’ll send you a text so you will have mine too” Bucky stops her.

She types her phone number and hears the notification of Bucky’s message. “Alright, see you soon, I guess.” she says goodbye to the men and Grace requests to hug them both before leaving.

“Man, that was awkward.” says Sam.

“What? The hug? No, she was cute” Bucky responded.

“No, you were awkward.” the man returns laughing.

When Y/n and Grace arrive at home, Lucy is still there, reading a book on the couch. “Hey, we’re back” Y/n greets.

“Hello, there!” Exclaims her friend.

“Where have you been other than the park?” She asks while helping Grace undress, noticing the missing prosthetic, she will ask about it later.

“First of all, how are you sure we didn’t just stay four, almost five, hours at the park; second of all, we kind of skipped lunch so while I’m cooking her something to eat could you please let her wear some clean clothes? Thank you so much” Y/n says.

Lucy doesn’t protest, but she’s very curious: in less than five hours the all sad and demotivated Y/n became this active and new woman she hasn’t seen in five years, she wonders what happened to them.

Bucky and Sam take the elevator to the common floor again, they live in different flats but on the same floor instead of on their own like the others so, if Bucky needs anything because of the nightmares, he goes to Sam quickly. The short ride is silent but weird enough. Sam is watching him, thinking about what the other has done, and in what awful situation he has put them.

“You know that the project doesn’t work like that” Sam speaks as they get off the lift.

“What?” Bucky asked.

“That kid, she can’t have that arm you know that, right?” He repeats.

“Why not? After all, it’s my fault she doesn’t have her prosthetic anymore” he disagrees.

“First of all, you exactly know why. Pepper explained to us the procedure thousands of times. We already have enough volunteers for Tony’s project” Sam explains.

“She’s not part of the project. She has never been. I’ll pay that arm for her” Bucky responds as they sit on the couch.

“Hey there, what are you fighting about again?” Wanda arrives from the kitchen.

“Barnes in here decided to be Mother Theresa to a little girl who needs a new prosthetic arm and her mom.” Sam tells her.

“Ohh is that for Tony’s project?” She asked happily.

“She won’t be part of it goddammit!” Bucky burst to lose his calmness.

“Alright we get it, Barnes, you fell in love” Sam provokes him.

“Sam, come on!” Wanda reproaches the man as Bucky leaves the room.

“You’re an idiot” Wanda interrupts him “you know how lonely he felt since Steve has left. They were probably the first people he has talked to in days excluding us” She recalls, going to Bucky’s room.

“Turn off the oven when it goes off okay?” She asks him before leaving.

Wanda walks to Bucky’s door finding it strangely unlocked. “Bucky? Can I come in?” She knocks on the door.

“Yeah yeah.” he responds.

Wanda opens the door and sees the super soldier laying down in bed, staring at the ceiling.

“You did a good thing Bucky, you know?” She reassures him “and Sam can be quite a dick sometimes” she adds.

“I agree” he smiles a little.

“I want to let you know something and then, if you want to, you can talk about today. Alright?” She asks and he nods.

“It’s not important what happened today to let me say that you can move on, from Hydra and Steve. You deserve it.” he looks at her as he hears his name, having a melancholy feeling spreading from his chest.

“So, how’s it going today?”

Bucky explains to Wanda how he has met Y/n and Grace, what he knows about them and how good he had felt together with her.

“You know Wanda, I didn’t expect me to talk to someone this early after what happened...and when I saw how much she cared about her daughter, I realized that maybe I don’t want a lonely life anymore. But it’s like a curse, I haven’t seen happiness since the 40s, even in Wakanda I had these dreams and paranoias about Steve and guess what, they turned to be true so...”

“Maybe you should let happiness enter in your life and not chase it like a mad man, would you try that for me?” She breaks in.

“If you want...I’ll just stick to go out more often, it will be better than nothing I think” he promises.

“That’s fine, but now text her, even just for that famous appointment” she suggests smirking.

“Okay, fine. I’ll write to her. I just need a moment alone; I’ll be back for dinner” he responds with a tight smile on his lips.

“Sure Buck, see you later.” Wanda says going out his flat.

Bucky feels overwhelmed, for over seventy years he hasn’t felt emotions and since he escaped from Hydra, he is more in alert than in any other time of his life. Feeling that bit of happiness and joy, sprinting out that little girl after everything that happened to her, makes him feel alive again and he can still feel her tiny arm embrace him saying goodbye.

After two fairy tales and some cuddling Grace falls asleep for her afternoon nap. Finally sitting down on the couch, Y/n takes a breath of relief as this crazy day is slowly coming to an end.

“So, would you mind to tell me what happened at the park since Grace doesn’t have her arm anymore?” Lucy interrupts her relaxing.

“God, it’s a long story” she answers.

“I have a lot of time” the other retorts.

Y/n puffs and sits up straight on the couch.

“So, uh, where do I start. We were at the park; Grace saw this really big Labrador and went to pet it. She came back and bumped into a man and fell back, breaking the prosthetic arm” she takes a long breath before continuing “The said man was Bucky Barnes, okay? He felt bad and suggested to buy us a new arm but then he took us to the Avengers tower and explained to me a couple of things about the arm. Grace put a little game on us there, she escaped and wondered around the tower, I lost her, and I was going crazy when Falcon...uh Sam, found her in his apartment. So now I have to organize an appointment with Bucky for Grace’s arm and just thank them for it I think” she explains.

Lucy stared at her friend for the whole speech, both shocked and happy. “So, you’ve met an avenger, got a new arm for Grace, went to their tower and then have met another one? That’s wild” she surmises.

“And I’m super tired even if it’s not evening yet” Y/n leans back when she hears her phone going off with a notification.

“Uhhh, who’s bothering, my god!” She groans.

When she reads the sender, she shuts up immediately.

“So, who it is?” Her friend asks.

“Bucky, actually” she responds.

“And what does he say?”

“Just things for the arm I think, I don’t want to open it” she confesses.

“What? Why not?” Lucy is confused.

“I don’t know. It’s just fear, I think. I’ll read it after by the way” Y/n says.

“Alright, as you want. If you need to talk about him, you know you can” her best friend reassures her.

“There’s nothing to gossip about him, he’s just kind. That’s all” she declares.

“Okay if you say so” Lucy shrugs.

“What?” Y/n protests.

“Oh no nothing” her friend, lies “it’s just that I think you should read that message” she advises her.

“Yeah, I’ll do it later. I told you that before” Y/n repeats.

“Read it now. Trust me” Lucy insists.

“Okay I’ll read it,” she says unlocking the phone “God, why are you so pushy?” She sighs.

As Y/n opens the message she has to read it a couple of times before acknowledging the meaning of it. “You told me to read it because you read the preview, didn’t you?” Y/n asks Lucy.

“Well yes! He asked you out!” She pipes.

“Oh god no” the other laughs, “He asked if I was free for having breakfast tomorrow morning.” she responds putting her phone back.

“So he asked you out! I’m so happy” Lucy is jumping of joy. Y/n, mad laughing, interrupts her.

“Is that a no?” She asks.

Y/n just can’t stop laughing as her friend keeps taking suppositions. After some tries, she calms down and finally stops the friend’s trying.

“He asked me if I could have breakfast with me, and added to bring Grace too” She laughs again “you are so cute when you get excited for me”

“Oh god, I’m so stupid” Lucy laughs too.

After laughing together for another moment Y/n stops.

“Oh shit, I haven’t answered him yet!” She says before laughing out loud once again.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x mom!reader #mom!reader #bucky #bucky fic #bucky series

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hardlyfatal · 6 years ago

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gary’s writing workshop: lesson 1: kintsugi, or how to make all criticism constructive

The tough thing about writing is that you have to be bold enough to think your work is worth reading by the public, and also have the humility to accept criticism so that you can improve and be better. You need to be strong enough not to crumple like a used tissue when you receive negative feedback.

The primary, inescapable truth about writing: you won't get better until you acknowledge and accept that you need to get better. That's it. If you think your writing is flawless, you're wrong. If you think you've done a perfect job, you're wrong. If you think there's no way it can possibly be improved, you're wrong.

That's not to say it's bad. Just that it's not perfect, that there is always going to be more you can do to tweak it closer to the ideal. To get there, you have to think critically about your work, instead of through a veil of trembling sensitivity and frail ego. You can't be defensive, but approach it with the knowledge that, despite the discomfort or even pain, the process will make you stronger and better. Kintsugi!

There are two kinds of negative feedback, and two classes of people you’ll get it from. The first kind is when something is factually, empirically wrong. Problems with your SPAG1, anachronisms, and continuity fall into this category – there’s no arguing with “you spelled something wrong” and “people in the Middle Ages didn’t say ‘okay’ “ and “in chapter 1 you said X but in chapter 2 you said Y”. Either it happened or it didn’t.

These are valid criticisms and must be considered and addressed. Yes, even if the person saying them is a complete dick and puts it in the cruelest possible terms. Just because they're a cruel dick doesn't mean they're a WRONG cruel dick. The only thing you can do is correct it. I personally tend to thank them, because even if they’ve been dicks, they still did me a favor in pointing out an error. I improved because of them. That’s worthy of thanks. Kintsugi!

The second kind of feedback is subjective, because you’ve failed to satisfy the reviewer’s expectations in some way. Maybe the story’s premise doesn't do it for them. Maybe they hate the trope you've modeled the plot around, or how you're presenting the characters. They think your pacing is too slow and things need to be snappier. Your dialogue is stilted. Maybe they simply don't like your style.

Where things are matters of opinion – and choices of trope, issues of awful dialogue, and dragging plots are opinion – you need to really, honestly look hard at them, without a veil of ego and self-protection keeping you from seeing what's going on. Why would the reviewer say the dialogue is awful, or that the plot drags?2

It could be that what they consider a lagging pace is merely their impatience to get to the payload; they want to see the fight/smut/revelation scene and all the world-building or slow burn romance is no more than dawdling on the way to the fun stuff. OR it could be that you’re rehashing the same shit three times and need a kick in the pants to see that it only needs saying once.3

Regardless of what conclusion you arrive at, you’re going to have aha! moments, bursts of clarity for issues that you couldn’t perceive on your own but needed someone else to present them, or different wording or metaphors or whatever, in order to see what the problem is. These epiphanies can be hard to cope with. You might feel chagrin, disappointment, irritation, even anger. They’re all valid emotions, and you’re allowed to feel them. Just don’t drown in them. Give them a few minutes to run their course, and then move on to address the situation. You don’t have time to mope forever, you’ve got more chapters and stories to write.

On to the classes of reviewers you’ll have. One class is that of your readers. It can be frustrating to receive valuable feedback after you publish. If it’s a SPAG issue or something likewise easily dealt with, it’s NBD – you just make your correction and hope no one else noticed. If it’s something stylistic, you shrug and move on, as not everyone will appreciate your writing ‘personality’.

If it’s structural, however, it can be devastating, because the entire story can hinge on something you have now learned is problematic. It can even kill your inspiration and motivation to continue the story. That happened to me about eight years ago-- someone pointed out a major issue that I had somehow just… missed. I was over 70,000 words into that story and I just couldn’t manage another word of it, after that. Talk about disheartening.

This type of thing is what makes the second class of reviewer, the beta, so incredibly valuable. You should always take seriously any feedback and advice provided by a beta. If you’re lucky, you’ve found someone who isn’t afraid to really give you the business. You want to root out as many problems as possible before you publish. A good beta is worth their weight in smut.

But it’s one thing to cope with the embarrassment you might feel to have a reader point out an error, and coping with that from someone with whom you’ll be having an ongoing relationship. With a reader, you can just take their criticism and apply it and move on; your contact with them will always be somewhat limited so your discomfort is fleeting.

A beta, however, is someone you have to speak to again, at length, after they’re pointed out what a dolt you are (though probably in far nicer language). It can be daunting to continue dealing with someone who has caught you with your pants down, so to speak. Writing can be very self-revelatory, and when we put it out there and it gets pooped on, we can feel vulnerable and rejected.

But… we are not our writing! We are not our plot holes, or our wonky grasp of SPAG, or our tendency to tell rather than show, or our aversion to ‘said’ as a speech tag, or any of the other million problems we can have as writers. When our betas tell us something is wrong with any of these, fortunately, it’s not a statement on our quality as people.

And, just like who we are as people, nothing we write is over and done forever. Everything can be fixed, tweaked, improved. In this digital age, even after publishing, the story isn’t set in stone. We can always nip in there after the fact and tidy up, twitch it into position, repair what isn’t working. Kintsugi! So what is Kintsugi, anyway? And why does it pertain to us? It’s the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. Philosophically used, it treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object instead of a method of disguising it. The cracks and dings become beauty marks instead of flaws, because of the story they tell.

In terms that mean something to us in particular, it’s Jaime’s stump and/or gold hand. As people who love him in a particular pairing, and are fans of his character in particular, we see the stump and/or prosthesis as a symbol of the agonizing redemption process he has undergone, and how he had to break before he could be fixed.

Similarly, we can approach our flaws with an open heart, as opportunities for growth. We can be eager to find them, because we know we’re going to conquer them and improve because of it. We can breathe through the discomfort and embarrassment knowing we’ll come through it stronger, both as writers and as people.

Example:

Just today, one of my betas, the unsinkable Mikki, came at me with a contention that I was writing Brienne OOC.

(Note: She was her usual lovely self, not hostile at all – this is just a timely example of dealing with subjective criticism and how to consider and absorb it. But do keep in mind the “sometimes even assholes are right” thing from above.)

At first, I thought, “She’s expecting Brienne to be different, but I’m choosing to adapt her for a modern setting, so of course the character won’t be identical to her canonical self.” So I replied that I was writing her differently because, in the modern AU I’m writing, Brienne hasn’t had the same life experiences that, in canon, resulted in her being far more humorless, touchy, self-ashamed, etc.

Mikki replied with a very insightful analysis of how Brienne’s personality was formed, and how those core characteristics can come through in modern-day!Brienne, albeit in a softened format according to the gentler treatment she’s had in my story. I saw immediately that, put this way, Mikki was entirely correct, and that I’d been going about it without enough depth and consistency.

I don’t need to revamp anything drastically, but to add details here and there – mostly just introspective bits that will add to the characterization in the end, and make her feel more Briennelike. These bits won’t be obvious or attention-grabbing, they won’t change the story significantly, but they’ll contribute to the overall quality.

The upshot of this is that Mikki knows she can tell me when she perceives a problem because I'll take her seriously and won't freak out on her. And I feel comfortable not only receiving her critique but also entering into a discussion about it instead of just blindly accepting her advice and accepting when I'm shown the error of my ways.

Homework:

Think about past incidents of negative feedback. If you’ve had criticism given, even in a hostile way, consider that at length. Are you able to brush off the dross and see the gem hidden beneath? Can you discard the rudeness and find the message hidden within it? Focus on the message, not the delivery.

Once you find it, examine it. Is it pointing out a factual error, or is it subjective? If it’s subjective, is it just because you’ve disappointed their expectations, or because there is valid criticism? Write your response out, if you feel that will be helpful to clarifying your thoughts.

Endnotes:

1 - SPAG = Spelling, Grammar, And Punctuation.

2 - In future lessons, we’ll be going over many topics – among them natural-feeling dialogue and the matter of pacing – in hopes that you’ll have something to compare their criticism to, gaining the ability to discern whether or not you do have problems with these issues or the reviewer is just a crackpot.

3 - Academic writing is nothing like fiction. Many nonfiction writers have problems with this transition, because they’re used to writing an intro to the premise of their article/paper, then describing the subject at length, then summarizing it all into a tidy package. If you’re coming from academic writing, and someone is telling you your pacing needs work, there’s a strong chance the reason is because you’re trying to write persuasively, when your focus as a fiction writer is to write descriptively. You don’t have to persuade the reader of anything, here, just paint a word-picture for them.

#gary's writing workshop #writing #writing tips #writing reference #writing resources

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fatandnerdy30 · 5 years ago

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The Little Princess chapter 1

So, this is something I’ve been working on for a while. It’s an original work, and I wanted some feedback on it. So, please feel free to critique the hell out of this, tell me what I did wrong, tell me what you liked, anything, just please drop a comment!

It was raining. That maybe had been the reason why Hannah lay in her bed, sweat covered from another nightmare that plagued her, brought on by the weather. As soon as she'd felt the memories start to trickle in, she tried forcing herself awake. And it worked, but only after she relived the worst day of her life. The rain always brought back those memories whether she liked it or not. A boom of thunder filled the room, causing the girl to jump. Annoyed she couldn't have slept in on the first day of summer break, she threw the covers off in a huff. Above her the bed creaked as her bunk mate slept peacefully on, unaware of the problems going on below her. Hannah was just glad she was able to wake up before the screaming started. She did not want another trip to the psychiatrist. Aqua eyes roamed the room, and the nine other girls who were still asleep. For the past three years she'd been in this room. She'd seen boys and girls alike come and go so many times, she didn't bother to learn their names anymore. It seemed they were there for a week or two, and then like magic, a family member came to get them. It was never Hannah's turn. Until now. Her gaze fell on a lone suitcase sitting in the corner of the room and her lips turned up in a small smile. The head of the foster home, Mrs. Morrison, came to Hannah with tears in her eyes, telling her that her father's sister had made contact to come and claim her. But, that had been two weeks ago. Mrs. Morrison had told her time and time again that there was a lot of paperwork to go through before her aunt could even step foot on the block. Hannah had to think if that was really the case, though. It was nerve wracking to think she was going to meet a member of her father's family, when she'd never even met the man herself. Sure, her mother told her stories about him before. Hannah knew what kind of man he was due to those. He was kind and brave, always thoughtful of others, and above all he loved her mother. Her mother loved him too, always keeping her heart for the day he came back. But, he never did come back. And now it was too late. She had to wonder what kind of man he was in reality. He left his family before Hannah was born, and her mother told her they both didn't know she was there when he had to leave, and he was somewhere he'd never be able to know. What kind of place was that? There was such thing as international calling, so why did they never get any phone calls? Another rumble of thunder ripped Hannah from her musings with a jump. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand and let out a quiet groan. It wasn't even seven in the morning. She wouldn’t be getting anymore sleep with the thunder. No. If she did fall asleep, she would be plagued by nightmares again. With that thought she got out of bed and made her way to the packed suitcase, opening it as quietly as she could. She stared at the clothing inside, all but one shirt neatly folded. She picked up the rolled up article and unwrapped the framed photograph inside. As soon as she saw her mother's face smiling up at her, she felt better. Next to the woman in the picture was an incredibly tall man, his eyes focused on her mother with such love in them his gaze. That man, as her mother had explained every night since she could remember, was her father. The resemblance between her and her father, was uncanny. Every morning, Hannah stared into the mirror, trying to see her mother's face staring back at her, but all she could see was her father. The only thing she got from her mother was her platinum hair. Putting the picture away, the girl took out running clothes for the morning and glanced at the window. It seemed the rain was stopping. Good. She got dressed quickly and quietly stole out of the room, the house silent around her as she made her way downstairs. As soon as she stepped outside the humidity from the rain hit her and she began to sweat. Perfect running weather. Making sure her laces were tight, Hannah took off down the block toward the town. It was quiet as she jogged, the shops still closed until later that morning. Only a few people were out, either running or walking their dogs. The air was still a bit misty and the ground still wet, her sneakers splashing through some puddles as she went. A car passed her and the driver honked the horn, waving at Hannah with a smile, his wife mirroring the gesture. In the back seat their children sat asleep, suitcases telling her they were on their way for a vacation. Hannah waved back, forcing a smile, all the while wanting what they had to come back to her. Her mother once told her life wasn't fair. She snorted. 'Tell me about it.' She turned a corner and headed for the park, mainly for her favorite spot. When she made it, she collapsed under the branches of a thick pine, the ground underneath the bristles dry even after a full night of rain. She panted as she leaned against the trunk, watching the gray clouds lighten even more as the sun rose fully. A few drops of water still fell here and there, splashing down to the ground in a rhythm that slowly called to Hannah and she closed her eyes, slipping into slumber quickly under the tree.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Hannah!" A voice cut through the darkness that wrapped around Hannah's mind, calling her from slumber land. "Hannah! Wake up!" She recognized the voice as one of the girls who slept in the same room as her in the foster home. What was her name again, and why was she here? Hannah opened her eyes and blinked up at the girl standing over her, hands on her hips, sweat running down her face. "Do you realize how long I've been looking for you? It's too hot to be running around town like this." Hannah sat up with a groan, stretching out her sore muscles before standing. "What time is it?" The other girl gave a frustrated sigh. "A little after noon. Mrs. Morrison is looking for you. There's someone at the house for you." The girl's voice spoke volumes as hints of her jealousy came through, her dull brown eyes narrowed.

"All right, I'm coming. did she say who it was?" Probably another state official coming to ask questions about her mysterious aunt. How many times did she have to tell them she didn't know the woman. The other girl shrugged, walking beside Hannah. "No, but she isn't from the state. If she is, then they'd better start hiring different people that won't scare the kids. I saw her waiting in Mrs. Morrison's office, and this lady was huge! I mean, sitting down she had to be like six feet!" Hannah almost stopped short. Not from the state, and extremely tall. Her father's smiling face flashed through her mind. Could this mean..."Listen, I'm gonna jog the rest of the way, loosen up from sleeping under that tree. I'll see you at home!" Hannah waved as she ran off, skipping right into a full out sprint. Not someone from the state asking for her. Was it finally the day she got to meet this mysterious aunt?

Her heart pounded in her ears as she ran, a smile blooming on her face, and for the first time in three years she couldn't wait to go home. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was panting as she rounded the corner on her block, nearly slipping on the damp pavement. As she neared the house, she saw a strange car sitting in the driveway in back of the state van. She made her legs move faster, running up the stairs to the porch two at a time and burst into the house, the door slamming against the wall. Mrs. Morrison and another woman were standing in the hallway talking, both of them jumping at Hannah's entrance. The girl couldn't help but stare at the strange woman with the foster home director. The other girl was right...this woman would definitely scare the kids if she were from the state. She towered over Mrs. Morrison by at least two feet, making her close to seven feet tall, which meant Hannah would look like a child standing next to her. "Hannah," Mrs. Morrison began, a stern look on the woman's face from her entrance. "This is Susan Dereks, your father's sister." She said the words lightly, her voice wavering a bit. Her aunt...All she could do was stare in complete shock. In all her dreams, she never thought an aunt or uncle would come for her. Heck, she never thought any family member would come for her. Instantly she could see the resemblance between the woman and her father. The woman had the same blue-green eyes that shone with mysteries and warmth, their smiles the same. Susan's eyes filled with tears that she blinked back, taking a step toward Hannah. "You look just like your father," she whispered in a strained voice. "But, you have your mother's hair." The girl brought a hand up to her hair, the waves entangling in her fingers. While she was staring at her hair, she didn't realize the woman had come closer, and nearly jumped back when she was right in front of her. She felt dwarfed in Susan's presence, much like, she was right. A child. Hannah stared up at her for a moment before the question that had been plaguing her came out. "Why now?" The tall woman cocked her head to the side. "What was that, sweetie?" "I asked why now? It's been three years, so why did you come now? Why you and not my father?" Even though things had been explained to her, Hannah thought this was a little too fishy. Susan shook her head and took a seat in the overstuffed armchair in the hall, smiling at Mrs. Morrison when the woman took her leave to give them some time alone. "Your father, he doesn't know about you, Hannah. I actually just found out about your mother a few days ago when I came to see her. You see, I live pretty far from here, as does your father. He," she paused to take a shuddering breath. "He doesn't know about the accident yet." She shook her head. "As soon as I found out what happened and learned you existed, I began making preparations to come and get you.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “Oh gods, why didn't I come sooner?" She dropped her head into her hands. "When your parents went their separate ways, I was so angry at your mother. I thought she just couldn't deal with the differences between her and my brother and threw him out. I learned later on that it was your father that left. He didn't want to hurt your mother, and couldn't bring her with him. At least at the time. He's been requesting things be changed, but the council has been stubborn as ever." Hannah listened to the woman's story with confusion. What was this woman talking about? "What differences?" she asked after a moment, feeling anger seeping into her voice. "What could have been so different about them that they had to split apart? It's not like they were two different species. And what country could he possibly live in that wouldn't allow us to go with him? I've never heard of any law like that anywhere on earth." Susan stiffened and raised her head, her face white with shock. "She never told you," she whispered after a long moment. At that moment Mrs. Morrison came back into the hall looking at her watch. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but it's almost time for me to start lunch, and trust me, you don't want the younger ones around when you take Hannah. They look up to her, in a way." There was a slight pause as she took in the looks on both of their faces. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” Susan said and sniffed. “I just found something out that I wished had been explained to Hannah....but, it’s alright. I’ll tell her when we get back..speaking of which, we should leave soon, or traffic is going to be awful. Why don’t you go get your bags and I’ll finish up with Mrs. Morrison.” Susan smiled down at her niece, wanting to hug her, but knowing it was too soon.

Hannah’s mind suddenly stopped. “Wait, I’m leaving today?” she asked. What about what her mother never told her? "Everything is set. I called the numbers you gave me, and all the paperwork is in complete order, you just need to look them over, Mrs. Dereks." She paused and looked between them. That question seemed to snap Susan out of her trance and she nodded. "Yes, yes, that sounds fine." The woman got up to follow the woman into her office. Mrs. Morrison nodded and gave Hannah a kind, but watery smile. "Go on upstairs and make sure you’ve got everything, okay? It won’t take more than a few minutes for us to be done." Hannah nodded slowly and made her way toward the stairs, her eyes on Susan as she climbed, following her until Mrs. Morrison shut the door to her office. Those words, the look on her face. Something was up with this Susan. And in order to figure it out, Hannah had to go with her and get all she could out of the woman. What started out as excitement slowly faded into worry.

The girl sat on her bed, her packed suitcase in front of her, staring at it as thoughts piled into her mind. What didn't her mother tell her? What could that possibly mean? She wracked her brain, still staring at the closed case. But, she couldn't figure out the answer and sitting there wouldn't get it for her. She had to find out for herself.

So with a nod, she grabbed the handle and lifted it with a grunt. Turning, she stared at the room that had been her home for what seemed like forever. She finally leaving this place, and with a stranger that the state said was her aunt. Hannah thought she would be sadder to leave, but she wasn't that happy either. Maybe she felt like she did because everything was happening so suddenly. She gripped the handle for her suitcase and walked away from her bed with a grim smile. "Finally," she whispered. It was her turn. She walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. Now it was time to find out what was going on. Susan was waiting for her at the bottom of the steps, giving her a happy yet sad smile. "Ready?" she asked and Hannah nodded. Mrs. Morris stopped her, pulling into a tight hug. "I'm so happy for you, sweetie." Her voice was thick with emotion and Hannah felt tears burning her eyes. Why did she feel like this was the last time she could see the woman? "Thank you for everything," Hannah whispered. The woman nodded and sniffled, pulling away. "Better get going before it gets too late. And Hannah, be good." Hannah nodded and turned to Susan who was waiting by the door, her head nearly touching the top of the frame, the sunlight pouring in from the open door as they took a step outside. And that was how, after three years, Hannah left the foster home.

#g/t community #Giant/tiny #original work #The little princess

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segadores-y-soldados · 6 years ago

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I'm honestly frustrated by people complaining about getting lore through "secondary sources", esp. When Tracer was revealed as gay. In nearly any other situation this would be fair but in OVW? Where would that reveal have worked? In easily missed ingame dialogue?

I’m going to go on a personal story here.

(Long personal post under the cut)

My first console was the Gamecube. I was in my early teens, rapidly becoming very confused by increasing gender dysphoria, though I did not know the term for it at the time.

In late 2005, Nintendo of America released Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance. It was not my first FE game - I had played through The Binding Blade (FE7) and Sacred Stones (FE8) - so I expected nothing different here. Core mechanics were the same, basic plotline felt the the same: Ike, a young mercenary, must choose between helping the distressed Princess Elincia reclaim her country after a neighboring country attacked it. Ike and his band of mercenaries choose to do the right thing, they help her - the whole story is about their efforts to secure an army for her, and then go on the counterattack. Along the way, there are implications that Elincia is developing implied romantic feelings for Ike.

Incredibly, Ike does not.

Despite the efforts by Nintendo of America to “scrub the game” free of this content, the largest subplot in the game is about Ike getting his male best friend, Soren, to open up and trust him. If this plotline is pursued, Soren dedicates his life to Ike. In Fire Emblem, this translates to an A relationship status, which can then be carried over to the sequel game, Radiant Dawn.

If a game file with an A relationship between Ike and Soren is achieved, you can unlock special bonus content in Radiant Dawn, including another large subplot storyline about finding out more about Soren’s personal history.

At the end of the game, they literally run off into the sunset and go on what is effectively a lifelong honeymoon.

When peace had settled on the land, Soren packed lightly and set off with the only person he had ever trusted.

---

Once he saw stability returned, Ike left on a journey to lands still unknown. He was never seen again.

In 2018, most people would accept that this is a gay relationship.

In 2005 to 2007 (when Radiant Dawn was released), this was not the case.

I have seen slurs, mockery, harassment, and threats against people for advocating that two fictional male characters loved each other. Two years ago, I essentially left a Fire Emblem community that I had been a member of for years because the moderators would not stop another user from harassing me for being openly LGBT and for supporting this ship.

I would probably not be as hardcore in the Overwatch fandom if I was still a part of that community.

...Even now, thirteen years later, I would sell my soul for anyone from Nintendo to say:

“For those who have specifically asked, Ike identifies as gay.”

...

I’m not saying that tweets by the lead writer are the best way to reveal these details, nor am I saying that the pacing of Overwatch’s releases are necessarily good or efficient or amazing. Do I wish we got to see the other MEKA pilots in the short? Absolutely. Would I love a comic about them? Of course.

But you know what?

Sometimes just stating something openly and honestly IS an acceptable way to reveal something, whether that’s D.Mon being from the same esports team as D.Va or Tracer’s orientation.

I think people in the OW fandom sometimes forget that a number of things have been revealed or confirmed - concretely - by developers and writers in tweets, or interviews, or con panels. Sometimes, you don’t have the space to write it into a short or comic without the dialogue feeling stiff or wooden (imagine how incredibly awkward it would be if Winston was like, “Oh, Lena, you’re a lesbian?”). Sometimes, you simply need to reaffirm a basic fact (“these guys loved each other” comes to mind) or make a statement of clarity:

Michael: Moira is a scientist. She is not so much interested in conquering the world, even though she has allied herself with people who might have proclivities in that direction. She is really just into the actual science. She wants to understand the fundamentals of human life, and how they can be manipulated. She is a geneticist, and that is her primary goal, and that is all she wants. But the thing that makes her villainous is that she doesn’t quite have like some of the morals that the rest of us have.

(Michael Chu on the Moira reveal panel at Blizzcon 2017)

We can look at things like “Captain Myung” and go, “That’s ridiculous. Why won’t they just put that in the game somewhere?” and completely forget that sometimes, decisions to make content as simple as the leading female protagonist kissing her girlfriend can still have real world repercussions, both good and bad:

The “Reflections” comic is blocked in Russia.

So sometimes, stating things open and honestly is the answer.

Yes, not everyone has access to Twitter, or Reddit, or the Blizzard forums. And on the flip side, not everyone has access to Youtube, Twitch, or even the comics.

I’m using big examples, but the semi-open dialogue between Overwatch fans and the developers/writers can still be important on smaller levels. Someone on reddit posted that the memorial stones in the Busan shrine map have some inaccuracies, and in less than a day, Michael has already commented that:

I did (see the post)! We're going to try to get it fixed for Busan's release.

Another example, people are pointing out that the mech garages in the MEKA base map is missing one for D.Va’s mech Tokki. When Michael said that they decided against it for level design (as in, they were worried that players would get confused by an “extra D.Va mech” on the map), people commented with, “Maybe just make an empty pink garage?”

I’ll pass the feedback on to the art team!

...Being a conscientious consumer - and a conscientious fan of something - does not mean you can only react with praise or criticism. And sometimes, being a conscientious creator - and a conscientious writer - means simply “telling” and not always “showing.”

Again, this does not mean to NOT critique or engage in critical discussions. We should, we always should. But maybe, sometimes, it means not sending out that petty “Get off twitter and go do your job” reply and instead thinking, “Here is the lead developer or writer for this game. Maybe I can ask something instead.”

And you never know what answer you might get.

I don’t like sounding like a shill. This company does not need me patting its goddamn back. But in light of another major, non-game fandom currently having a major community discussion on bad LGBT tropes (you can probably guess which one), a tweet listing the mech names is pretty solid.

And there’s probably a few people out there who are happy to see something as simple as “they loved each other” and “matching gaming handles” get a tweet.

#personal #reply #replies #answer #deadgodjess

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minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong · 7 years ago

Text

Arranged Chapter Eight

Description: Y/N is a struggling student in Seoul: working multiple jobs, living in a broom closet apartment, and often sacrificing her dignity for the sake of her livelihood. What happens when a handsome stranger presents her with an offer she cannot refuse at the moment she needs it most?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x (f) Reader

Word Count: 6,661

Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Chaebol!Au, Company!Au, Arranged Marriage!Au

Warnings: Coarse language, although not frequently.

A/N: Hi guys! I’m very excited to give you guys this chapter! I’m so grateful for all of you. The support of this story has been incredible. Truly, it’s more than I could have ever dreamed of. I’m honored and humbled that you guys enjoy the story and enjoy my writing. That said, here’s the next chapter! As always, my asks are open for anyone who wants to chat! (Especially if you want to chat about that selfie Yoongi uploaded on Twitter yesterday because I think he’s trying to fight me.) I’ll respond to every message I receive within the day! If you have any feedback, critique, questions, or anything please feel free to send me a message. I hope you guys like the update and please stay healthy and rest up!

–Mercury

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen (END)

———————————————————————————————————

“Namjoon what…what the hell are you doing here?” I asked, shaking my head as my hand fell from Yoongi’s.

Namjoon approached me, his grin never faltering, as he chuckled. “I just got a job here last week! Trust me, I’m as surprised as you are. I heard you got married?” he said, smiling.

I nodded. “Yeah. Uh…this is Yoongi. My…,” I paused as I took a moment to think about how to introduce him. Namjoon and Yoongi had met before, after all. “My husband.” My heart fluttered as I spoke the word.

Namjoon bowed politely, the papers he held close to his chest slipping slightly. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Min,” he said before the stack of papers on top, the one held together by a loose paperclip, slid from his grip entirely.

I gasped and fell to my knees, grabbing the stack before it hit the ground and fanned out everywhere. Namjoon’s eyes went wide at the sight of me on all fours on the hardwood floor. We met gazes and I took a moment to search his expression. Had he really forgotten the experience with Yoongi from a few weeks before? In his face I saw only concern and quickly righted myself, standing to my feet slowly and denying Yoongi’s hand as he offered it to me to steady me.

“Here you go, Namjoon,” I said. I handed him the stack of papers with a soft smile.

He returned it. “Thank you,” he said. “Ah, I guess I’ll see you at lunch?” he said, raising his brows as his smile deepened, revealing his dimples.

I nodded. “Sure.”

Namjoon bowed to Yoongi once again before walking off down the hallway and into the office itself. I peered up at Yoongi and his expression, much like Namjoon’s, was unreadable. I pouted slightly as he refused to meet my eyes, all previous nervousness replaced now with confusion and frustration.

“How can he be here?”

“He works here.”

“I got that,” I said with a sigh. “But…why?”

Yoongi peeked at me from above and shrugged before walking ahead into the office. “I hired him personally,” he said, his back growing distant as he disappeared into the sea of cubicles, searching for mine.

I had so many things to ask him, but settled for just following behind him with an angry sigh.

The supervisor appointed to me, Yoongi’s own assistant Jaehee, showed me the ropes and before long I was logging files into Excel sheets and reviewing reports from the different departments. I’d had very few expectations when I agreed to taking this job, but I certainly hadn’t expected for it to be so tedious, so dry. Was this the sort of thing Yoongi did all day?

Occasionally, I took secret looks over the back of my chair towards where his office was situated, right at the corner of the floor, giving him the best view. Every time my eyes found the clouded glass that separated us, I felt a pang of frustration and…something else. He’d held my hand so tenderly before, with so much care and softness. I’d never been touched that way.

But he’d also brushed me off when I’d asked about Namjoon. Once again, it seemed that he was making decisions and calling shots without my knowledge or consent. If Namjoon was qualified for the position here and he’d applied, then far be it from me to stand in the way. But if he’d been hired under insidious circumstances, possibly to protect my secret with Yoongi…

Then I didn’t want to stand for my friend being manipulated like a pawn in a chess match.

It was with this cocktail of emotions that I stood from my desk to grab a drink of water at the fountain, several of my new coworkers gathered there. Each of them bowed to me and I responded in turn, but we didn’t really speak. That seemed to be how the workday went: each of us performing our own individual tasks and mingling as little as possible.

“Miss Y/N,” said a voice I’d become far too familiar with from behind me.

I sighed as I turned to see Jaehee, the young short guy, who was standing stiffly beside me. “Hello,” I said to him.

He nodded. “Mr. Min would like to see you,” he said.

I raised my brows. “He would?”

“He wants a report on the analytics you’ve analyzed today,” he said.

“But I’ve hardly analyzed any. I’ve only been working for four hours.”

Jaehee nodded. “I understand, Miss, but he wants to see you.”

The coworkers on my other side chuckled together. “How scandalous to call his new wife to his office on her first day,” whispered one woman to another.

The second woman stared me up and down before setting her lips thin in an effort to conceal her laughter. “I’m sure he wants to do more than just see her,” she said.

I cleared my throat. Suddenly, an enclosed space with Yoongi sounded far superior to an open space with these women as they teased me. I turned on my heel and brushed past Jaehee with a soft smile his way.

“Did you need something?” I asked as Yoongi’s white door clicked shut behind me.

He had removed his suit jacket and was sitting at his glass-topped desk now, fingers folded and eyes turned to the side to gaze out the window. He’d rolled the sleeves of his button-down up to his elbows. I could see the latticework of veins beneath the porcelain of his skin and had to force my eyes away. His dark eyes slid to the chair in front of his desk and I followed his silent cue, backing the chair slightly so I wouldn’t be too close. He looked at me slowly, almost lazily, and sighed as he took in my expression.

“You’re mad at me,” he said.

I nodded. “A little.”

“Why? Because I hired Namjoon?” he asked, his brows furrowed.

I shook my head. “Namjoon has an IQ of 148. He has experience working for a small business. He has incredible people skills and he’s a Yonsei graduate. He’s obviously an incredible candidate for a position here,” I said. “I want to know if there are any reasons besides his qualifications for his hiring.”

Yoongi sighed and his expression softened slightly. He stood to his feet and reached for something in one of his drawers. He rifled through it for a moment before coming around to the front of the desk and, to my great shock and chagrin, crouching down in front of my knees. I wondered what he was up to, what he might do, but his eyes lifted to meet mine and I felt some of my anger melt. I wanted to run my fingers through his well-styled hair, to touch his neck where the collar of his shirt met his skin. He seemed so soft below me, and it was difficult to restrain myself.

But before I could feel too embarrassed about my urges, his fingers were on my exposed knee, his eyes falling there too. I jerked away from him. “What are you doing?” I asked.

He chuckled softly, his fingers hooking around the back of my knee to pull me back towards him. Carefully, he pulled a bandaid from the item he’d produced from his drawer, an item I could now see was a first-aid kit. He peeled the tape off both sides and gently smoothed the adhesive down on the top of my knee. As I watched him, I became aware of a dull stinging there and was startled to see that I’d been bleeding slightly from a wound I must have acquired when I dove for Namjoon’s papers.

I flushed as he continued to smooth the bandaid, giving the top of my knee a soft squeeze once he was done. He packed away his first aid kit and set it to the side on the floor, sitting up and leaning back against his desk so he could face me properly.

“I hired him before we got married,” he said.

I raised my eyebrows at him. “You…what?”

He nodded. “We got talking that day at the instrument store. Turns out he’s a business major. He wants to climb the corporate ladder and open his own business someday, like his dad did,” said Yoongi softly, slowly. His voice was low and deep as his eyes focused somewhere behind me.

“So you…,” I edged, trying to get him to reveal more.

He smiled gently. “I asked him about you and he spoke very fondly. He said you’re smart, but a little impulsive. Strong, but stubborn. He mentioned that you were a kind person,” he said.

“He’s too generous,” I said with burning cheeks.

Yoongi shook his head. “No, I think he’s right,” he said. “Anyway, I gave him my business card and said if he was ever looking for a job he could come to me.”

“So it was…innocent?”

He shook his head. “Not entirely. I offered him the position because he seemed like a smart kid. But when you agreed to the marriage, I became a little nervous. I thought he might become trouble, since he was there the day we met, one of the only people who saw us. So I offered him a job on site when he came in for an interview a week or so after you called,” said Yoongi. “I didn’t want loose ends.”

“Loose ends…,” I said. What a way to talk about a human being…

“But I wouldn’t have hired him if he hadn’t spoken so highly of you. By then, I knew you were the person I wanted to partner with. I’m a good judge of character, and I knew you were a good person. So if he could see that in you, then he must be a good judge of character too. That’s what I thought.”

I blushed. “Now you’re being too generous.”

“I still disagree,” he said with a smile my way. “Anyway, mostly I figured that if you were to work for me you might want to have a familiar face around. This workplace can be a little…,” he started, then chuckled and shook his head.

I nodded. “I know what you mean,” I said as I recalled those women at the water fountain. I wrapped my arms around my torso with a sigh.

“You don’t look pleased.”

I shook my head and chuckled to myself. “No, it’s not that. I’m…I’m glad you hired him. You’re right about him. He’s smart and he could do a lot of good for your company,” I said. “But hiring him so that I could have a friend…isn’t that too kind?”

He smirked. “I’m a very kind man, Y/N,” he said, touching my calf with the tip of his polished shoe, almost like he was teasing.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” I said, gazing up at him as the city glittered in the afternoon sun behind him. “Sometimes I think you’re the most compassionate person I’ve ever met, and other times I think you’re just…pragmatic.”

“Can’t a person be both?”

I blushed as I pondered this. “I…suppose.”

He smiled and pushed off the desk, coming to stand before me. Softly, as if I may break at his touch, he pushed an unruly hair from my face, guiding it to the side of my cheek. My skin burned and my heart raced as I saw the softness in his chocolate eyes, trained on my face. His lips were still parted in a lopsided grin, and it was all I could do to sit still as he backed away.

“We’re friends,” he said, tilting his head to the side. “I take care of my friends.”

Friends…

“Hey, Y/N,” said Namjoon as I entered the break room in a daze. I was still thinking about Yoongi, about his hands on my skin, about his eyes looking at me with all that softness…

About what it meant to be his friend.

I shook my head and smiled at Namjoon. “Hey. How come you didn’t tell me you were working here?” I asked.

He smirked and took a bite of his sandwich. “How come you didn’t invite me to the wedding?” he asked, raising a brow.

I blushed and shook my head. I sat in the chair across from him. The break room was nearly empty, leaving the two of us to sit comfortably. “I wasn’t really…in charge of the guest list.”

He chuckled. “You don’t have to explain. I’m assuming your relationship is…nonconventional.”

“That would be one way to put it.”

He offered me the other half of his sandwich, a triangle of white bread and also a triangular white flag. I accepted it graciously and began to nibble at it. “You like him at least?” asked Namjoon.

It was clear the two of us were in an understanding of sorts, but neither of us were putting it to words. Neither of us could. “Yes,” I said with a sigh.

He grinned and patted my arm, his dimples sinking into his cheeks. “Hey! You guys were holding hands this morning. Don’t look so sad.”

“I don’t know what any of it means.”

He pondered this for a moment. “Have you tried talking to Hana about it?” he asked.

I smiled. “The way you said her name just now…,” I said, raising my brows.

He rolled his eyes and glanced away with a smile. “Leave me alone. I have just as much of a right to have a crush as you do.”

“At least I’m married to mine.”

He scowled at me. “But honestly. I feel like she’d know how to help.”

I shook my head. “I feel…distant with her. Every day there are more things I can’t tell her about. I don’t know how to face her.”

“How about facing her honestly?”

“I don’t know if I can…,” I said. “I don’t know where I’d begin explaining things to her. And I don’t know how much I can explain. I’m in a…weird circumstance.”

He nodded. “Well, all I know is she was mopey at the store when she found out you were engaged. I think you’d be kind to at least spend some time with her. Just her.”

I sighed and set the sandwich down again. I didn’t have much of an appetite when I thought about Hana. “What if I wanna be selfish? What if I don’t want to drag her all the way into this? What if...what if I’m scared?”

He thought for a moment before smiling at me gently. “Then you have to be okay with the consequences.”

The rest of the day passed pensively as now and again my fingers would brush the top of that bandaid or my eyes would linger on the clouded glass of Yoongi’s office. I was focused, of course. I wasn’t the kind of person whose work performance was so easily shaken. But I was preoccupied, dazed, and thinking too much for my own good.

Every time Namjoon passed by he offered me a smile and while on one hand I found it extremely comforting, on the other I felt heavy under the weight of his eyes. He was right. Hana deserved to be treated with at least my respect — respect enough to talk to her and tell her how I was feeling. Tell her what my life looked like now that it was completely different.

I had to be okay with the consequences, huh?

“Are you ready to go home?” asked Yoongi from over my shoulder, causing me to jump and turn towards him.

I rubbed my dry eyes and gazed out the windows onto the dusk outside. Had the day already passed? “Uh…yeah. I’m ready.”

He smiled just barely and nodded, his jacket hanging over his forearm. “Want to grab something for dinner before we go home? To celebrate your first day?”

I pondered this. “No drinking?” I asked.

He laughed and nodded. “Not if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t.”

He offered me his hand to help me from my seat and held onto it for a fraction longer than a friend would. He released my fingers and nodded towards the elevator. I glanced around the office. It seemed Namjoon had already left. Most everyone had already left, actually. We walked out to the street and without stopping Yoongi continued to the left of the building, following the well-lit sidewalk down into the heart of Gangnam. He seemed to know his way and, veiled in the anonymity of the city lights with the daylight’s final display of colors playing out behind his head, he seemed in his element. Natural even. I couldn’t stop looking at him.

But I had to.

Friends don’t gaze longingly at friends.

“Where are we going?”

He peeked at me out the corner of his eye and smiled. “We’re getting pork belly.”

I raised my brows. “You like stuff like that?”

He laughed and nodded. “Don’t sound so surprised. Just because I was born with a silver spoon doesn’t mean I don’t like delicious food.”

“Delicious and…cheap.”

He nodded and a smile danced on his lips, lights danced in his eyes, my heart danced in my chest. He ran his hands through his hair and it softened at his touch, falling gently into half-held waves. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, lazily, before he reached his fingers out toward mine, wiggling them.

“What?” I asked.

“Give me your hand,” he said.

I blushed. “My…my hand? Why?”

“Why else? I want to hold it,” he said. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like it was natural.

He continued to wiggle his fingers, the gesture far too cute for someone as serious as him, and raised his brows. “O-Okay,” I managed to say before lacing my fingers with his.

He sighed and nodded with a chuckle. “You did really well today,” he said.

I shook my head. “I’m just following directions.”

“I looked at you a few times today. When I had to get coffee or use the bathroom,” he said, nodding with a slight pout. “You looked focused. Jaehee praised you.”

I rolled my eyes. “With the way you talk about Jaehee that’s hardly a compliment,” I said.

He nudged me with his elbow. “I’m trying to be nice to you,” he said.

“Why though? You don’t need to.”

He thought for a moment, his hand warm against mine, and shrugged. “I guess I’m thinking about what you said. A few things you’ve said.”

“Which things?”

“You said you couldn’t tell if I was kind or not,” he said slowly. “For some reason…I guess I want to prove to you that I am.”

I chuckled. “It was never a question of kindness. I know you’re kind.”

“You said you didn’t think I was a bad person…I don’t know if I agree, but I want to try, you know? To be a person that journalists write good things about,” he said then laughed. “If nothing else, then just for your sake. It’s not good being associated with me, is it?”

I shrugged. “It’s not bad,” I said. “And I don’t really care about any of that. People can say whatever they want, but it doesn’t change your character.”

“Do you think you know my character pretty well?” he asked.

I pursed my lips as I thought. “No,” I said, and I thought I saw his expression fall only slightly. His grip on my fingers loosened by a fraction, but it was too precious a moment to let go of so I held tighter and gave him a smile. “But I’d like to.”

He turned to me, surprised, and a smile spread across his face very slowly. “Then you’re one of the few,” he said with a chuckle, leading the way inside a smoky restaurant.

“No! No, God. I’ve never,” said Yoongi through laughter.

I joined him. “What-why? I’ve heard skinny dipping is really fun!” I exclaimed, pointing to him with my chopstick as he cooked our second round of meat.

He rolled his eyes, still laughing, and shook his head. “You say that like you know what it’s like…,” he teased with a smirk.

I gaped. “No! I haven’t!”

He continued laughing for a long moment and I joined him. We’d been playing some sort of lazy 20 Questions game for half an hour, laughing and eating. Something about sharing a meal at a tiny table, watching our food cook, sitting in the hazy restaurant where conversation was so loud we both needed to shout to be heard…something about it had made us loosen up. Like we could afford to have a little fun. God knows we needed it.

“Okay, okay. I have a question,” he said, placing a piece of lettuce to his lips before shoving a slice of pork into his mouth, lettuce and all. It was his strange way of eating meat wraps. I’d tried doing it during our first round only to puncture a hole into the lettuce and earn the incessant teasing of Yoongi. “If you didn’t have to sleep, what would you do with all your free time?”

I chuckled and wrapped my food like a normal person, giving him a pointed look as I did. “What if I like sleeping?”

He smirked. “So if given more free time, you’d still sleep?”

I shrugged. “Probably.”

He laughed loudly and nodded. “When you say it so seriously like that…I kind of agree.”

“Mm,” I murmured as I chewed. “I’ve got one.”

“Fire away.”

“I saw this on a website once when I had to research ice-breaker questions for a work dinner once,” I said with a laugh. “It’s a good one.”

“I’m ready,” he said, bracing himself against the small round table and setting his chopsticks down to offer me his undivided attention.

“If you had a clock that would countdown to any one event in your life, like an event that hasn’t happened yet, what event would you want it to countdown to?” I asked with a smug smile. This had always been my favorite question.

He chuckled before he became overcome with thought and his expression changed from playful to stoic. He sighed and pouted his lips, furrowed his brow, set his jaw. He was serious again. “I would want…I’d want it to countdown to the moment when I’m truly content.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Content?”

He nodded. “When I feel like I’m not sprinting anymore. When I can finally rest.”

I peeked at him nervously. He was looking at the meat as it sizzled on the grill between us. “Do you always feel that way? Like you’re sprinting?”

He nodded again. “Ever since I was a kid, there was a lot that was expected of me,” he said, then looked at me with frantic eyes and waved his hands. “Not that I’m complaining! I’m very fortunate.”

I shook my head. “But that doesn’t mean you’re immune to bad things. You can still go through hard times like the rest of us.”

“Yeah,” he said, swirling his beer. “I grew up hearing that I’d be CEO someday, that I’d have to take over. I heard that if I ever slipped up, if I ever showed a face that wasn’t poised and perfect and professional, that I’d risk ruining it all.”

“That’s a huge amount of pressure,” I said.

He chuckled. “I know,” he sighed. “It put a lot of strain on possible friendships. I can count on one hand the amount of people I have in my life who genuinely care for me,” he said. I remembered what Jungkook said. That people seemed to stick around because they had to, not because they wanted to. I felt an odd cocktail of pity and outrage for Yoongi. “I felt like…I don’t know, like I didn’t have any right to drag other people into the stress of my life. Like they didn’t deserve it.”

“So…you isolated yourself?” I asked.

He nodded. “I did. I do,” he said. “There was…there was one girl when I was twenty. In college. She didn’t care about my background. She didn’t mind that I had these…circumstances, these expectations. She was wonderful,” he said with a smile so fond it made my whole body ache. “But she wasn’t from a great family. In the end I pushed her away…because I felt I would be doing her an injustice by bringing her close to me if she’d never be able to stay.”

I blushed. I’d never heard this story before, never even considered it. It hadn’t occurred to me that Yoongi may have been in love before, may have given his heart away before, may have wanted someone like I wanted him before. My heart clenched a little at the way his eyes went distant, like he could see her if he focused hard enough on the crack in the wooden table. Maybe he could…

“That’s no way to live,” I said, then blushed and shook my head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say something like that. It slipped out.”

He smiled, almost sadly, and shook his head. “Don’t worry. I won’t fire you.”

“Isn’t it…aren’t you ever lonely?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I suppose,” he said, then chuckled and turned a few pieces of meat over with his tongs. “Not as much lately.”

My heart raced. Was that possibly because of me?

No. I had to stop thinking things that made me hopeful.

“Hm,” I said, mostly to fill the dead air between us.

Yoongi peeked at me from across the table and raised his eyebrows. “I figured you might understand. You have things you can’t tell people. About us, about…this,” he said with a nod. “It can be lonely holding onto so many secrets.”

Hana.

I cleared my throat and nodded. “What choice do I have?”

He took another bite of meat and chewed on it. He also chewed on my words. After a moment he sighed and gave me a smile. Another one that seemed a little sad. “All I know is that I wouldn’t wish it on someone. Least of all you.” He returned his attention to the meat as it sizzled between us, leaving me to sit in a smothering mixture of indecision and melancholy.

I awoke the next day smelling of smoke. It was in my hair, in my shirt, in my skin. And as I exited my bedroom and found Yoongi sipping his coffee with a bowl of fruit before him, I could vaguely smell it on him too past the sharp pine of his cologne.

He glanced at me over his glasses and smiled. “Ready for work?”

“I don’t know if ‘ready’ is the word I’d choose,” I said with a laugh.

He smiled and patted the chair beside him. “You can have my grapes. I noticed you eat them in the middle of the night.”

I blushed as I sat down. “You…you saw?”

His smile turned to a playful smirk and he shrugged. “It’s my apartment. I see everything.”

I swallowed hard and stared at him with wide eyes. “E-everything?”

For a moment he stared at me, smirking, before his facade broke and he was in stitches, laughing at me with his eyes pleasantly scrunched up. He leaned back in his chair and offered me a comforting nudge on the calf with his slippered foot. “I’m teasing. I sometimes get up at night to drink some juice or milk and I notice the bag is open and your light is on. I just figured you liked them.”

I popped one in my mouth slowly and nodded. “I do,” I said.

He smiled. “Good. Because I’m not a fan. Eat them for me, okay?”

I nodded and grabbed for another. “If you say so, Boss.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “I’m packing a lunch today. Do you want me to pack you one too?” he asked.

Lunch.

Who would I eat lunch with today? I couldn’t bear the thought of Namjoon lecturing me about Hana again, since his voice was starting to sound eerily similar to the voice of reason. And I couldn’t very well hop into Yoongi’s office uninvited and eat there…

I remembered for only the briefest moment the expression on Yoongi’s face as he told me the story of that girl, a memory I regarded with a pang of sadness in my stomach for a number of reasons. He’d pushed her away because he was scared. He mentioned before that he pushed most people away. He didn’t feel like he had the right to collect kind people in his life, like he would be dragging them down by associating with them. And, as much as that guilt of his made me upset on his behalf, I could understand it.

But his eyes had seemed so somber, so sad.

And he’d said he didn’t wish that on me…

“No,” I said, my voice starting me with its clarity. “I’m, uh…I’m gonna catch up with Hana at the instrument store. Catch up.”

He glanced at me and I was sure he understood what I meant. It was one of those rare moments when I felt more similar than different to Yoongi. He nodded his head with a gentle smile. “I think that’s an excellent idea. Do you know what you’ll say to her?”

“Well…she already knows this is…arranged,” I said.

He nodded. “I figured. She was there that day too, right?”

“Yes. But there are things that I…haven’t told her,” I said, twiddling my thumbs. Like my feelings for Yoongi, or the fact that his father knew too. Like Jungkook. Things that might possibly complicate things for her in the future. “I don’t know…how to proceed. You know the saying, ‘The less I know the better’?”

He ate around his grapes, letting me pick at them, and speared a strawberry with his fork. “Mhm.”

“Isn’t that appropriate here?”

He shrugged. “Do what you think is best. I trust your judgement.”

“I don’t want her to be used as a pawn someday,” I said, my brows etching into a furrow.

Yoongi smiled. “I’ll protect whoever is close to you, Y/N. I give you my word.”

But could he protect someone from his own father?

I sat on the table in the instrument store, Hana sitting beside me as we closed the shop down for lunchtime. It had been a few days since we’d seen each other, and a few more since we’d really talked, and a few more since things had felt normal between us. She peered at me from beside the cash register, her eyes warm and soft as they scanned my features.

I turned to look at her and gave her a smile. “I’m sorry.”

She raised her brows. “What? What for?”

“For being so distant. For avoiding you.”

She shook her head. “You’ve been busy.”

“I’ve been scared.”

Hana’s soft features went sharp with confusion. “Scared of what? What’s so scary that you can’t even tell me?” she asked.

“I love Yoongi,” I said. “And I don’t know what to do about it.” The truth came tumbling out before I could stop it.

She stared at me with wide eyes. “And how does he feel?”

I hesitated before responding. If someone ever found out about my feelings, about their lack of reciprocation, it might come back to Hana. He might come back to Hana. “I don’t know.”

She laughed and rubbed my back. “Well, that’s nothing to be scared about! So what if you love your husband?”

“And his father…he knows. About everything. I really don’t know how…maybe he ran a background check on me or something. Who knows,” I said with a humorless laugh. “I don’t know what he might do if he finds out you know too. If it gets out it…it would devastate the company. I think he might do anything to keep that information under wraps.”

Suddenly, realization came over her features and she nodded. “That’s why.”

“That’s why.”

“You were trying to protect me?” she asked. “Well, let him try to scare me. What can he take away from me?”

I laughed and wiped beneath my eyes. “Everybody has something to lose. Trust me on that.”

She sighed and nodded. “Jeez. I never thought being the wife of a millionaire would be so complicated,” she said with a laugh, digging her elbow into my side.

I turned to her, her beaming, happy face. I only ever wanted her to wear that expression, that carefree, joyful one. I wanted her to live a life as beautiful as she was.

But what if the only way for her to have that life was if I wasn’t in it…?

“The store looks nice,” I said, glancing around the dimly lit floor. “Mr. Kim rearranged the brass.”

She sighed. “Hey, I…I never really apologized. For what happened.”

“Why would you need to apologize for that?” I asked with a smile. I took her hand in mine, like Yoongi had done to me, and began rubbing circles. “You didn’t do anything wrong. And I made my choice.”

She shook her head and sighed, pushing her dark hair behind her ears with a shrug. “I still feel like…if I’d just taken the blame like I should have you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

I pondered this. “You say that like I’m not happy.”

“Well…you’re not, are you?”

I chuckled as I recalled all of the memories I’d already accumulated in my new life: writing thank you notes with Yoongi, dancing to Kendrick Lamar at my wedding, sitting on the swings with Jungkook as he revealed something he otherwise never would have. Even though things were confusing and difficult, I wasn’t unhappy. I was sure, at least, of that much.

“I am, actually,” I said with a laugh and a nod of my head. I squeezed Hana’s small hand. “Happy, I mean. I’m actually…kinda happy.”

She scoffed. “And all it took was marrying a stranger.”

“I guess so.”

“God, well tell me all about it! Tell me about him! What’s he like at home? What’s the apartment like? Have you guys…done anything?” she asked, sitting criss-cross on the counter to face me with a grin.

I laughed and shook my head. “No! Nothing like that has happened and, the way things are going, nothing will,” I joked with a sigh. “And he’s…kinda soft.”

“Min Yoongi. Soft,” she repeated with a smirk.

I nodded. “Believe it or not! He’s actually pretty sweet if I’m being totally honest,” I said, then pouted. “But he teases me. And he’s really straightforward. Normally that’s a good thing, right? But like…he scares me with how honest he is sometimes.”

She laughed. “Tell me more.”

“And sometimes he can be kind of cold. Like a corporate heir, you know? And I have to think to myself, ‘Shit, we are in different leagues’. But then the next minute he’s stuffing lettuce wraps in his mouth and his glasses are sliding down his nose and it’s like…ugh, it’s like he’s cute, you know?” I had begun to speak with my hands, waving them around as I thought of more and more things to say. I could have filled a book with my thoughts on Yoongi.

But before I could write even another page, the bell above the door to the store tinkled and the both of us turned towards the noise to see what had caused it. Standing in the doorway, shutting the glass door quietly behind him, was a man maybe in his fifties, wearing a well-tailored vest and slacks. On his right arm I recognized a watch similar to one Yoongi owned. Something and Mercier was the name, if I remembered correctly.

He turned to us with a smile and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Hello. I’m sorry to intrude,” he said. His voice was low, but lilting. Almost like music.

Hana hopped off the counter and I joined her. She offered him a warm smile. “I’m so sorry, sir, but we’re actually closed for lunch right now.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh? I’m so sorry. I must have missed the sign,” he said, laughing. How had he missed it when it was printed boldly right on the door he’d just walked through?

Something about the man put me off and put me on edge. I watched him carefully as he and Hana exchanged more words. Everything about him from his salt-and-pepper hair to the strong set of his jaw seemed sharp, and his eyes flashed around the room in a way that felt calculated. Hana was a pleasant as ever, and yet this man seemed only to be meeting her in politeness, not sincerity. He seemed to be taking in the store, looking for something that I couldn’t know.

“Ah, well, excuse me. I’m so sorry to have been a bother. I’ll come back during work hours,” he said, bowing his head to Hana.

She returned it and smiled up at him. “You can stay if you’d like! If there’s something in particular you’re looking for, then you can try it out while we continue our lunch.”

The man’s eyes went wide and he nodded. “Would that really be okay?”

“Of course. We don’t turn away business here,” she said with a laugh. He returned it, but his eyes never narrowed. He made me so inexplicably uneasy…

“Well, I am looking for something, if you’d care to help,” he said, finally slinking his gaze over to me. We locked eyes and I felt my whole body freeze.

“Sure. What can I help you find?”

“It’s not really a what, but more of a who I’m afraid,” he said, smiling her way again.

Hana cocked her head to the side and nodded. “Um…I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I’ll give it my best shot,” she said, grinning.

The man nodded. “Well, I’m looking for a young woman who used to work here. She recently got married and the articles said she is a former employee,” he said.

I stiffened and took a small step back. Hana and I exchanged a charged look as her eyebrows knit. She and I were surely thinking the same thing. There was no way he was referring to-

“Her name is Y/N,” he said.

The overwhelming urge to run overcame me. I had to tell my body to remain still in order not to sprint out that front door. Who was this man? And why was he looking for me? I took a moment to settle my nerves and think. If I ran, then I seemed guilty. What if he knew about the arrangement? What if he was trying to exploit me for money — money that wasn’t mine to give? If I ran, he may get more ammunition on me, more proof to use against me.

But if I stayed…

If I stayed I might be able to convince him otherwise. I might be able to understand his motives and ask him what he wanted with me. I might be proven wrong about his intentions.

Or I could be proven right.

And if I was proven right, then I would be in deep, deep trouble.

I remembered what Yoongi said before I left the house. He said he trusted my judgement. I sincerely hoped I could trust it too…

I stepped forward, a large enough step to see the man up close, and cleared my throat. “That’s me, Sir.”

He met my eyes nodded. “I know,” he said. For the first time since he’d come into the store, he smiled and it looked real. But as he did, I realized that I recognized that smile.

It was mine.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi fanfic #suga #bts reactions #bts au #bangtan #arranged bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts scenarios #bts reader insert

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artificialqueens · 7 years ago

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Is Grey a Color [Biadore] Part 4 - Falling Snowflake

Bianca wiped the tear away before following the other girls into the workroom. Hearing Courtney make high-pitched bird sounds, Bianca told her to shut up. She wasn’t in the mood to be with any of the other girls, especially if they were going to be annoying. Adore had just shut her down, and she wanted to hit something. Or someone. Depended on what annoyed her the most.

Adore looked so upset while wiping the mirror, and Bianca tried her best not to stare at her. God, this beautiful human being should never have to be so upset. She was too good and innocent for this world. Luckily, Dela congratulated Courtney, giving Bianca a chance to focus on something else.

“Thank you,” Courtney smiled at them, then looking pointedly at Bianca. “I want to have a talk show when I grow up, so I’ll let you be my Michelle Visage.”

Bianca stopped taking off her makeup for a second, laughing and making a comment about the fact that she didn’t have big enough tits. Shortly after, Courtney mentioned that the two of them were the only ones who had never had to lipsync, making Darienne talk about how it should be the two of them next challenge.

That however, made Courtney’s shadier side come out, as she suggested that there should be a dance challenge so that Bianca would have to lipsync, but not her. Bianca wasn’t in the mood for bullshit, so she snapped back at her and called her a fucking bitch.

Like the last challenge, Roy didn’t stay for even one second after he was out of drag. The fact that Danny had shut him completely down was too painful, and he had to be alone. Not even looking back at any of the other queens, he rushed back to his hotel room.

His breath was caught in his throat, and he felt tears pressing at his eyes. He wasn’t going to cry, he wasn’t. He never fucking cried! The tears wouldn’t stop pressing though, and he gave up. Well, okay, maybe he did have to cry sometimes.

Who knew that even emotionless bitches could feel this much pain from simply being with other people? Roy certainly didn’t. For once, he actually got some sleep, totally exhausted from all the thoughts and feelings going through his head.

The next morning, he was the last queen to arrive outside the werk room, the other queens just staring at him. Roy rolled his eyes, and went to the front as the crew asked him to.

Trying to at least make it somewhat exciting, he made some random noises in a sing-song voice.

“It’s 6 of us!” Bendela said, Roy honestly not paying complete attention to anything other than the fact that there were six queens left. That meant that Roy had to stop letting Danny affect him so much, and just be his regular bitchy self.

While waiting for their usual message from RuPaul, they somehow made it into the topic of Shane’s right testicle popping out entirely, Ben mishearing it as ‘rat testicle’. Roy didn’t know how they got to that, or why, but he just wanted to get started already. The more they were standing there talking, the more time he had to think about Danny. The more time he had to think about Danny, the more fucked Roy was. He had no time for distractions. Not now.

The message from RuPaul clearly conveyed that they would have to do something based around weddings. Roy felt like killing someone. He was supposed to get over Danny, and now the challenge had something to do with weddings? Great.

What a fucking mini challenge. It was by far the weirdest yet, but Roy had somehow won the whole thing, giving him the advantage in the main challenge.

At first, it was seemingly innocent. They were just going to prepare some lovely women for their wedding, and Roy was given the task of deciding who should go with who. Of course, it wasn’t that simple. They were going to drag up their husbands into brides. Meaning that who he picked for the others might be completely different!

Roy felt bad for Danny as the realization dawned on the younger boy. Danny had no idea how to sew, no idea how to pad or anything. This was going to be a disaster. Whatever, though. Roy had to focus on himself, not Danny.

Luckily, Roy was quite good at this shit. Making costumes, doing people’s makeup, listening to their requests. Hopefully, he would do great at this. Eddie, the actual bride – now to be groom – was the perfect personality type for Roy as well.

Eventually, as they got to talking a bit, Roy realized that his bride was actually someone he really hit it off with. They even started talking about gay marriage in Holland and stuff. Of course, then they went into the talk Roy didn’t really want to have.

“So,” Alex looked at him. “You’re not wearing glasses. I suppose you’re colored?”

“Uhm,” Roy hesitated a bit. “Yeah. I’m kind of not all into the whole soulmate thing, though. I feel like it’s a bunch of bullshit.”

He briefly looked over at Danny, who had most definitely heard him. The look in his eyes said it all, but Roy decided to ignore it.

“Oh, do you have like a story?” Alex pressed on, and Roy didn’t really want to tell him, but he supposed he could.

“At first it was unrequited,” he shrugged. “I went through some complication, and then my soulmate finally color bonded to me. We’re, uh, not so close. At all.”

“Me and Eddie,” Alex said. “We didn’t colorbond at first. However we kept hanging out, and eventually one day both woke up to colors. The doctors told us that it was because we were both so caught up in having our soulmate that our bodies ignored it when we actually got one.”

“Oh wow,” Roy looked at him. That couldn’t have been easy either. They kept chatting for a bit, Roy looking over at Danny every now and then. He was obviously struggling a lot.

“I hate it!” Roy heard Danny whine, and he looked over to him. “I have to make a skirt! And I don’t know how to do it!”

By instinct, Roy told him what to do and how to do it. However, in the middle of helping him, he realized that he didn’t have to help Danny. Danny was the one to reject him, so he could do it himself thanks. After that he tried ignoring the younger boy, even though he knew for a fact that this challenge would land Danny in the bottom two.

During their time to drag up, Roy noticed Shane talking a lot of crap to Danny, and even though he shouldn’t care, he felt like punching him. No one were allowed to talk crap about or to Danny except for Roy. No one. Not even Danny.

Roy made a little comment about Danny himself, but then everyone started going against Danny, and Roy felt so bad for even mentioning it again. When the fuck was he going to learn how and when to keep his mouth shut?

At the runway, Bianca couldn’t be more impressed by her drag daughter. They had a family similarity, and he executed everything he had been taught. Eddie seemed moved by it too, and Bianca actually shed a tear.

During the vows, especially Eddie and Alex’s, Bianca managed to be happy and laugh for her couple, but on the inside she was bitter and upset. She was supposed to have this later in life, she was supposed to be able to see this in full color, not the dull colors provided by the contacts.

However, during Adore’s couple, Bianca was about to break down. Yes, the bride looked terrifying, but everything suddenly came back to her. Every hug, every touch, every color. She was supposed to be with Adore, and when they started talking about soulmates, everything just got worse.

In that exact moment, she had to hold back everything she had as to not scream out that she and Adore would be married too. That would probably counteract their de-bonding quite a bit.

She felt a pair of eyes at her, and she looked over to see Adore staring at her. They were both feeling it. They were both having that moment, thinking that this should have been them. She gave her a sad smile, pushing back the tears. She felt Courtney briefly touch her hand, and she gave her a grateful smile. She really did need that comfort.

After the ceremony was over, it was time for the judges’ critiques, but Bianca almost didn’t care what they said. She was overwhelmed by feelings, and she needed time to breathe. However, when it was time to actually criticize her couple, Bianca managed to pretend as if everything was fine.

She received positive feedback, and the one thing they mentioned, she decided to explain with a funny comeback. That apparently paid off, as she managed to get the judges to laugh.

Then it was time to head into the untucked lounge, and they got to talk with their couples. Bianca chatted a bit, but she wasn’t really in the mood for any heavy talk. Especially as the talk around the room seemed to be soulmates. The queens were all staring uncertainly at each other, as they had all signed the new contract that told them not to talk about Bianca and Adore’s bond. However, that became almost impossible.

Fortunately, they were saved by the bell as it was time for them to head to the gold bar without their couples. They had a surprise waiting for them, and Bianca was genuinely curious as to what it was.

The surprise was so much better and worse than expected. It was a video message from Adore’s mom. Adore started crying immediately, especially when she started talking about how she had tried to force her into being something that she wasn’t during her first tryout for American Idol.

Both Joslyn and Bendela comforted her immediately, and Bianca wanted to be a part of that too. Of course, she couldn’t. Not yet. So she watched Bonnie talk, with a feeling that this family was her family as well in her heart. Bianca tried to seem untouched, and when the video finished she told the others how she wanted to meet and hang out with Adore’s mom.

After the video, Adore opened up about how she felt like shit, and how her mom always supported her. Bianca was incredibly uncomfortable with the whole thing, as she knew she was part of the reason that she felt like shit. Well, Adore made Bianca feel like shit too lately.

But when Adore started talking about how she felt like everyone thought that she didn’t fit in and that she didn’t belong her, she knew that she had to speak up.

“No, I don’t think it’s that,” Bianca started. “I think we’ve all heard the compliments, and all heard the wrath of all of them in some way. But there’s only six of us. They’re noticing this shit now. I think it’s a test. I think it’s a thing to get you to think, well not so much as to say ‘well I do this, I do that’, but to just think positively about yourself and be able to respond on the spot like that, you know?”

She continued, even though Joslyn spoke at the same time. “And it’s just that you need to have compassion for what you’re doing, whatever you contribute to it.”

It was hard for the both of them, but she noticed that Adore did take in her words and take them to her heart. Bianca knew for sure that the other queens except for Courtney had probably started to become suspicious that something bad had happened between them. They had probably suspected it before, but now it was just so much more obvious.”

They kept talking until they were supposed to go back on main stage. Bianca stood there nervously, waiting to hear that she was safe. But then she won the challenge, and she was going to fucking Hawaii!

To be honest, she was happy, but she would have been a lot happier if she had had someone to take with her. She could probably bring a random hooker or something, but that probably wasn’t as fun. Maybe someone from the pit crew wanted to join? Bianca certainly wouldn’t mind.

Then came the hard part. Adore had to lip sync again, this time against Joslyn. Bianca believed in Adore, she really did, but she was not sure if Adore was in the right mind to get through this right now. So she watched with her heart beating fast and loud, hoping that Adore managed to lipsync the house down.

Adore managed to get some incredibly positive energy from god knows where, and according to Bianca it was painfully obvious who should stay. Adore brought everything she had, and it was breathtaking to see her like that. She was so full of passion, and Bianca had never been more proud of her former soulmate. Never.

RuPaul shared the same opinion as Bianca, and Adore was the one who got to stay. Of course, it was sad to see Joslyn sashay away, but Bianca had never become that close to her. Not like she had with Adore, obviously.

Maybe it would have been better for her concentration if Adore went home, but Bianca doubted it. She would miss her too much, and she would probably have become even more miserable than she already was.

After dancing with their drag daughters and their drag son-in-laws, they all went back to the werk room to see what Joslyn had written and to talk about their challenge. They all did a foxy sign-off, bouncing their fake tits and making some sort of weird noise of their own choosing.

They then congratulated Adore for making it, of course making a little fun of her. Bendela compared her to the girl from the grudge, and even though the others laughed – even Adore – Bianca couldn’t see it. How could they not see the perfection that Adore was?

“Congratulations, Bianca!” Dela said, bringing Bianca out of her thoughts.

“Thank you, my love,” she smiled. “I will send all of you a postcard from Hawaii, because remember you’re my sisters.” She put on an obviously fake voice and smile, then dropping it completely to give them all her best bitchy glare, and she noticed how Dela got slightly annoyed by it.

Bianca honestly didn’t care that Dela was annoyed. She had just won a challenge while being so down that she at one point wanted to kill herself rather than watch those fucking weddings with Adore.

Then the attention turned to Darienne, who was a delusional bitch, so Bianca could de-drag in peace. Fucking finally. They all said goodbye to each other, and Danny looked at Roy.

“Seriously though, Bea,” he smiled. “Send me a fucking postcard from Hawaii. We need to put this fucking thing behind us. We could be great friends.”

“I will,” Roy laughed, looking right back at him. “You did really well during the lipsync today, I’ve never been more proud of you. See you tomorrow, yeah?”

- Falling Snowflake

Sorry that this chapter was a bit short and boring! I promise the next one will be better!

#biadore #bianca del rio #adore delano #is grey a color #falling snowflake #angst #tiny bit of fluff in there too actually #soulmate au #rpdr fanfiction #canon compliant #on set fic

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