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multi-fandom-imagines8 · 6 months ago

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A Song of Ice & Shadow

Part 5

You can read previous chapters here.

A/N: Not @ me pulling an all nighter to finish a protocol for uni and submitting it at 6 in the morning just 10 minutes before the deadline. Then proceeding to edit this chapter. This series in ruining my future, because all I did in the last two weeks is write 20 chapters! instead of the four protocols that I should've written on time. Anyways, enough about me. Y/n is fighting everyone in this chapter and saying hurtful things along the way.

Summary: Tension rises as Y/n only makes things harder for everyone around her. After moving into the Town House, she is attacked by the King’s soldiers.

Warnings: angst, slight violence, blood.

Word Count: 4.1 K.

Coming to check on Elain, much to Y/n’s surprise, she was not in her room. She paced towards the room where Nesta usually sat, only to hear her telling someone to get out. When she arrived she found Nesta and Feyre by the door and Elain and Lucien sitting in the room.

“I told you to keep him away from her” Y/n glared at Feyre, her voice tight with frustration.

“I came for a book” Lucien stated, trying to sound nonchalant.

“You don’t fool me, you one-eyed bastard. Get out!” she kept her voice steady, though a storm was building within her.

“She needs fresh air. Get her out of this house” he advised, and although he was right, Y/n barked “do not tell us what my sister needs. You don’t even know her”. In a moment of intense anger, a faint spark danced across her fingertips, the sensation lost amidst the turmoil of her emotions. She clenched her fists tightly, extinguishing the spark, the potential within her remaining hidden.

Feyre had come this morning to apologize for the previous night, but upon being seen in the same room as Elain and Lucien, it only made things worse.

“Y/n, I-”.

“Save it” she gave her sister a glare before storming out.

—

With no one around, Y/n felt cooped up and could not leave even if she wanted to. She decided to explore the rest of the house. Reaching the library, she felt something tighten around her chest. She was greeted by Clotho who wrote on a paper offering to assist her. She didn't even know why she was here, but then an idea came to her. She wrote back “do you have books about the anatomy and strong and weak points of the Fae?”.

“You want to learn about your body?”.

“Something like that”.

Clotho signaled one of the priestesses who led Y/n to the aisle about Fae anatomy a couple of floors below. She started reading out of curiosity but got sucked in. The tightening of her chest returned and she finally put the book down. She looked around, but no priestesses were in sight. She walked around the library when she saw a dark pit below. Something was drawing her closer, and she decided to investigate. She heard a faint voice ask “who walks here?”.

“Hello. Is there anyone here?”. No answer. She resumed her descent.

“Who dares disrupt my sleep?” the voice was louder.

“I-I did not know there was anyone here. I’m Y/n”.

“Ah, the one who’d been lost. I see you’ve been found”.

“What does that even mean? Who are you?”.

“You mean to say, what am I?”.

“You’re not Fae? Wh- where are you? How is it possible that your voice is everywhere?” Y/n was now going down carefully, as the lights began to fade.

“Fae?” the voice laughed “I’m much older, girl-”.

“Y/n, what in the Mother’s name are you doing here?” Cassian grabbed her wrist and led her upstairs.

“What the hell, prick? Let go of me!” but Cassian did not release her until they were in the upper part of the library, where it was safe.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” this was the first time she’s seen Cassian angry. His wings flared slightly, a sign of his agitation.

“What has gotten into you?”

“What has gotten into you?” he repeated “how can you just go down there? Do you know what lies beneath the library?”.

“No, I do not. No one has told me anything. In fact, this is the first time I’ve been to the library”.

“You stupid fool”.

“Mind your tongue, General”.

“Why did you even go down there?”.

“Because- I- I don’t know. Something was calling to me. I had this strange feeling and it led me there” she explained.

“If it ever calls to you again, do not answer. Do not go down there, do you understand me?”.

“I do not take orders from you, General. I’m not one of your soldiers that you can command”.

“Mother above, Y/n. Will you just listen for once?” Cassian sighed. He’d never dealth with such a stubborn and infuriating woman before.

“What is down there?”.

“A creature you do not want to face, trust me. Please, just stay away. I’m not commanding, I’m asking”.

“Alright, whatever. How did you even know I was here?”.

“I stayed behind to guard the city and you and Elain-”

“I don’t need guarding”.

“I know. When I came to the house, you weren’t there, so I had to check. When I got to the library, Clotho told me you were here. I did not think you’d do such a stupid thing, but when I came to find you you weren’t there. Only the book you were reading. Why are you studying our anatomy?”.

“I need to know everything about my enemies in order to defeat them”.

“Do you plan on killing me?” he chuckled.

“If you keep annoying me”.

“You’re lucky that I found you. You could have died”.

“Am I supposed to thank you? You don’t know that. Maybe whatever is down there just wanted to chat” she shrugged.

“Since when do you see the best in people?”.

“I don’t, but it is not a person, is it?”.

“Let’s just get out of here” he rolled his eyes.

“Where is everyone?”.

“Hewn city. If you agreed to help, you could’ve gone with them”.

“And see more of your kind? From what I heard, they’re even worse than you”.

“Much worse”.

“Then why would I ever want to go there?”.

“Fair point. But what about your powers, don’t you want to learn about them?”.

“You don’t know if I have any”.

“You are Cauldron-made. I-we believe that each of you has powers”.

“Power or no power, I’m not doing anything to help you”.

“Why not? You’d help save everyone”.

“You ask a lot of questions, General”.

“And you answer none”.

“I don’t owe you or anyone an answer”.

“Sorry, I asked… I have to go now, Rhys just informed me of their return. And please don’t go down again”.

“I won’t. Tell my sister and your brother to come here tomorrow, I have something to discuss with them”.

—

To Y/n’s surprise, not only Feyre and Rhys were in the living room the next morning, but also Cassian, Azriel and Nesta.

“Good morning” she greeted Nesta, and Nesta only. “How are your lessons going?” she took a seat next to her sister.

“I’m learning to shield myself. Yesterday was tiring” Nesta informed her.

“I want to go home” Y/n informed Feyre, who was taken aback, much like everyone else in the room.

“What? This is your home now” Feyre said.

“No, this is your home. I want to leave. I want to go back”.

“But you’re not human anymore” Feyre reminded “they won’t accept you there. It’s not safe”.

“I can glamour myself. And I can decide what risks I’m going to take myself”.

“You can’t glamour yourself forever”.

“Why do you care? I have made my decision. I want to leave” she persisted.

“Because you are my sister, and I want what is best for you”.

“And you think this is what’s best for me? To be locked up in here with nothing to do, surrounded by people I don’t like. I’m sorry that your human life was miserable, that you had to hunt for our family’s survival and just because you found a purpose here, just because you fit in, doesn’t mean we all have to. I had a life back then, a good one”.

“No one is locking you up. I told you, you can leave any time you wanted” Rhys reminded.

“How am I supposed to leave if no one is here to take me out? Or am I magically supposed to send a letter that would go wherever you are?”.

“You can call with your mind and I would send whoever is nearest to get you” Rhys explained.

“Nice trick, so you can enter my mind and read my thoughts? I’m not stupid”.

“I would never do such a thing, I give you my word”.

“You and your words that you can’t keep” she huffed.

“Y/n-” Feyre tried to diffuse the situation.

“I.want.to.leave”.

“It’s not safe. Not for you and not for your father. You have to think ab-”.

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from you” her reply came with a huffed chuckle “where was all that talk when you came to us for help? Or did our safety not matter to you when your new family wanted help? Because from where I stand, everything that happened to us was because of a decision you made” Y/n’s voice grew quiet, almost hesitant, pain and disappointment evident in her tone. Y/n didn’t want to say these words aloud, knowing her sister felt guilty, nonetheless. But bottling up her feelings all this time backfired on her.

“Don’t blame Feyre for what happened to you. If you want someone to blame, blame the King of Hybern, blame me” Rhys defended.

“Oh, I do, and his turn will come. But she played a part in what happened, I begged her to take her business elsewhere... I played a part in what happened” her voice faltered “we all did. And you? You want to know why I hate you? You made a promise that you couldn’t keep. You and your brothers promised to protect my sisters and when they needed that protection, you were all helpless. I should’ve never trusted you or let you anywhere near them and I have no one but myself to blame. I knew of the danger your kind would bring us, but still I allowed it to happen and now my sisters are suffering and Elain lost her fiance. All because of one decision” tears were now filling up in her eyes, but no one dared to speak. They all partly blamed themselves for what happened to the sisters and now with her confession, they know she blamed them too. A reminder that they have failed her and her sisters.

“It’s not your fault. No one blames you” Nesta finally spoke, trying to comfort her older sister. This was the first time she saw her break. She was always composed, didn’t let anything or anyone get to her. A faint smile appeared on Y/n’s face before she wiped away the tear that slipped and composed herself. She wanted to say something but had no energy left in her to argue, so she only nodded.

“You are right, it would put my father in danger. I won’t make that mistake twice” Y/n admitted before silently walking out of the room.

—

“What’s going on?” Y/n stepped out of her room as she heard noise and movement coming from outside.

“We’re moving to Rhysand’s townhouse” Nesta informed her sister.

“Great! And when was this decision made?” Y/n sighed.

“Yesterday… after you left”.

“I see. Is it because-”.

“Elain needs fresh air and staying here won’t help anyone”.

“Right… Was anyone going to tell me or were they just going to drag me there?”.

“I was sent to inform you, since-”.

“Since I basically told them to piss off”.

“Something like that. Let’s go” Nesta led her sister upstairs where the Illyrians and their other sisters were waiting, in addition to the one-eyed ginger. Azriel was the only one who dared to offer to take Y/n. He was met with sympathetic looks from his brothers and Feyre.

To his surprise, Y/n did not object and took the hand he extended to her. This time she’d be calm and composed. She did not say anything during their flight and neither did he. Knowing how she felt about him- them, he could not face her, as guilt crept up on him. They were the first to arrive and when they reached the front door, he released his grip from her waist and opened the door. “Where’s my room?” was all she asked. He informed her and she nodded in thanks before leaving for her room.

—

The next day, a healer called Madja was sent to examine Elain. To see if something was wrong with her, but she found nothing. She informed the sisters that there was nothing wrong with her physically and that she cannot enter her mind, since apparently being Cauldron-made gave them immunity against anyone who tried peeking around in their minds. This made Y/n feel pressure lifted off her, seeing as now neither her sister or Rhys can ever read her mind without permission. Madja suggested that Lucien try, seeing as he was her mate, maybe he could sense something they couldn’t. Although Y/n hated the idea, she agreed for her sister’s sake.

“What the hell did you do to her?” Y/n yelled at Lucien as Elain stood from her seat startled by whatever he did.

“Nothing” he claimed and apologized to Elain. After a while, Nesta walked out of her lesson with Amren and took Elain to the garden, away from Lucien. He informed Feyre that he felt her, but as Y/n thought he could not sense what was wrong. Feyre assured him they could try another day before walking after her sisters to retrieve Nesta for Amren. Lucien was left standing alone with Y/n.

“Don’t even think about getting together with my sister” Y/n warned.

“She’s my mate” he reminded.

“I’m letting you near my sister, you one-eyed bastard. You have done enough damage. You might be able to fool the others, but you don’t fool me. I know the only reason you’re here is because Elain is your “mate”. If she wasn’t, you wouldn’t have cared, you would’ve stayed with that dumb fuck of a male, his existance is a waste of oxygen. And don’t think I’ll ever forget how when my Feyre was suffering, when your ‘friend’ locked her up, you did nothing. When you tried taking her back by force, after seeing how she suffered. When you stood by while that monster made a deal with the King to use his land to slaughter humans. When my sisters became what they are because of you and your friend’s stupidity. You couldn’t even be a good friend, and let him spiral out of control, let him become the villain that everyone hates. So, over my dead body would I let you have her, but I don't put it past you to kill me to get to her, knowing who you keep company. But at least if you kill me, Elain will see you for who you truly are” Y/n said coldly, only hatred in her eyes.

“I-I’m sorry about wh-”.

“You’re only sorry, because she happens to be your mate. Don’t waste your time with me, I will never forgive you” she walked slowly upstairs, knowing her words will leave a deep scar.

—

Y/n was on her bed reading, when two High Fae males appeared in her room. From the way they looked, Y/n knew they were the King's soldiers. She promptly jumped out of bed and shouted “Elain, get out of the house now! RUN”.

“Don’t worry, we’re not here for your sister. At least not that one” one of them smirked.

“Stay back!” she warned.

“Or what?” one of them blew out blue Faebane dust at her, rendering her magic, whatever it was useless “you can either come with us willingly and make it easy for everyone or you can try and fight back, but it won’t be fun, at least not for you” one of them laughed as he took his blade out.

“I think you know which one I’m sticking with” she gave them a smile, not letting them see her fear. As one tried to move towards her, she threw the lamp on her bedside table at him and jumped on the bed, hoping to reach the door. The other one was fast enough to yank her back by her braid, throwing her on the floor. “Is that all you’ve got?”.

“I’d say it’s not fair to fight an unarmed woman, but again when is it ever fair?” She managed to kick him in the balls before getting back up on her feet and opening the door. When she reached the stairs, one of them pushed her down, resulting in a few bruises and a sprained ankle, possibly a mild concussion as well, but surprisingly nothing more. She limped to the kitchen, in search of a sharp object she could use. The first thing she saw was a small knife, but it would have to suffice. “What do you think that knife is going to do?” a mocked laugh came from one of them as he slowly walked into the kitchen.

“That depends on your fighting style. It could be the eye, your throat or even land right between your eyes or legs. Who knows?” she shrugged “I’m not going down without a fight. The only way you’re taking me with you is if I’m dead”.

“The king needs you alive, but he said nothing about harming you” one of them lunged forwards but before he could reach her, Azriel ripped his throat with his bare hands, blood splattering all over Y/n’s face and nightgown. Before the other one could react, Azriel threw his blade, Truth-Teller at him, which landed in the middle of his face.

“I had it covered”.

“I’m sure you did. Are you alright?” Azriel scanned Y/n bodies for any injuries.

“I’m fine, but Elain-” she remembered as the adrenaline wore off.

“She’s fine. No one tried to attack her” his hands were on her shoulders, still scanning her.

“I’m fine, Shadowsinger. I just sprained my ankle” she reassured him.

“That is what’s worrying me. You fell down the stairs and only got a sprained ankle”.

“How do you know that I fell? And are you saying you’re disappointed I didn’t break my neck or get worse injuries?”.

“I- that’s not what I meant. Just forget it and I’m sorry about the mess and the blood” he gestured to the blood on her face.

“That’s the least of my worries” she chuckled.

Azriel had just finished getting rid of the bodies, while Y/n sat on the couch with an ice pouch applied to her ankle when Feyre, Nesta, Rhys and Cassian walked through the front door.

“You look like hell” Y/n said to her sisters.

“I could say the same to you” Nesta gestured to the blood still all over her and the messed up braid.

“You should see the other males” Y/n stood up and gave her sister a warm hug “I’m glad you’re alright” she took a step back and shifted her gaze to Feyre “both of you”.

The others arrived and gathered in the living room to plan for any future attacks. They informed Y/N why the King was after them and what had happened to the queen who jumped in the Cauldron after them, but still she couldn’t understand how that would happen, seeing as she went in after Nesta and nothing happened to her.

“Maybe it’s because you went in immediately after Nesta and the Cauldron did not realize she took something from it” Cassian suggested.

“But as I recall, you stayed much longer than Nesta and Elain” Rhys reminded.

“The ravens said that both of you stole something from the Cauldron. What did you take, Y/n?” Feyre asked.

“I don’t know. All I know is when I went under, I was full of rage and hatred and I wanted to destroy the Cauldron. Other than that, I don’t remember”.

Then, they went back to discussing the meeting with the High Lord and who had agreed to come and possible outcomes of the meetings.

“The queen might come” Elain said. They all wondered who she was talking about and she clarified it’s the one with feathers of flames. Everyone was confused except for Azriel, who came to the conclusion that Elain was a seer. They started asking Elain questions about this queen and then debated about going to find out more about her and maybe bring back an army when Lucien volunteered to go.

“I need a bath” Y/n sighed before standing up again and heading towards the stairs. Azriel rushed to help her, but she held out her arm, gesturing she could walk alone.

—

“I need to send this letter out” Y/n entered the living room, where the inner circle except for Feyre and Mor were sitting.

“Alright, Az will take you. I have some things to discuss with Amren” Rhys said. Azriel stood from his place and nodded in agreement.

“Where’s Feyre?” she questioned.

“Out with Mor. She’s showing her something”.

Y/n strode towards the door and Azriel followed behind.

“Don’t be late” Cassian quipped and Y/n lifted her hand up, showing him the middle finger before leaving.

“I’m sorry you got stuck with me” Azriel said.

“I suppose it’s alright. It was either you or the General and I’d take you any day over him”.

Azriel snorted “what’s the deal between you two?”.

“He’s a giant prick who loves annoying people”.

Azriel winnowed them out to the dispatch center and waited outside when Y/n hesitantly walked in. She had finally decided to send that letter to her father. She informed him of the war that is to come, of how she and her sister were transformed against their wills and that she now lives with Feyre. But she also lied, telling him she’s happy where she is and that he shouldn’t worry about her. That she’ll come visit him once the war is over.

“Is everything alright?” Azriel asked when she finally came out, a hint of sadness in her eyes.

“Yes, it’s fine. Let’s just go”. With that he wrapped them in the shadows and winnowed out.

“Where are we?” Y/n noticed her surroundings were not something she was familiar with.

“We’re on a mountain”.

“No shit, that I figured”.

“I come here sometimes, when I’m feeling low” he confessed.

“Who says I’m feeling low?”.

“I’m not blind” he gave her a knowing look, his eyes narrowing slightly as if to say I can see right through your lie “you’ve been like this ever since this morning, especially after delivering that letter”.

“And what am I supposed to do here?” she crossed her arms.

“Take a break. Away from everyone. You can see Velaris from here. It brings me peace whenever I come here. I thought it could do that to you too”.

“I appreciate the thought, but peace is not something I will experience any time soon”.

“Then just take a break for a moment to breathe, unless you prefer going back and enduring Cassian” he joked.

“Fine…so what am I supposed to do exactly? Look down at the city and enjoy the view?”.

“If you want. Whatever makes you feel better” he sat on a rock, his arms crossed.

Y/n stepped towards the edge and looked over for a few minutes before speaking “it’s hard to do anything when you’re sitting behind me watching like a hawk”.

“Would you prefer it if I left? I can give you however much time you need and then come back to get you” he offered.

“No. Just- if you’re going to show me a city, show it to me at night or dawn. Everything looks more enchanting at these times”.

“Duly noted”.

“We can leave now, I feel a bit better”.

—

Y/n was knitting in the living room, a new hobby she’s picked up, when Amren walked in, informing everyone that Hybern had attacked the Summer Court. The inner circle were discussing strategies and exchanging information about what to do next, when Rhys decided they were going to aid the Summer Court.

Azriel and Cassian were preparing for war, checking their blades and tapping the siphons atop their hand, spreading their scaled armor across their body. Their expressions cold and devoid of emotions. Although Y/n had seen him- them in their full armor before, she never witnessed them preparing for a fight or a war. The sight of them made her heart skip a beat. Was that worry she felt? She did not know. She stood from her place to say something, but they were gone before she could. Nesta questioned if Mor and Feyre were going to fight and Feyre informed her that they would if needed.

Taglist: @st4r-girl-official @judig92 @5onedirection5 @nayaniasworld @blackgirlmagicforever @stained-glass-eyes0708 @aehllitas-blog @nebarious

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moni-logues · 2 years ago

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Up All Night

Pairing: JK x reader

Genre: smut/pwp, neighbours/enemies-to-well, not really lovers, not even really fuckers lmao

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: You've moved into a nice, new apartment but there's just one problem: your noisy neighbour with the voice of an angel who insists on doing karaoke in the small hours. You decide it's about time to tell him off and get a whole lot more than you bargained for.

Content: oral sex (f. receiving), protected sex (well... sort of... you'll see!), dom!JK, slight bratty reader, bit of spanking, bit of biting, overstimulation, alcohol consumption

A/N: JK said middle of the night karaoke (again!) so here we are (again!) lmao. Originally written for M @here2bbtstrash. Not edited for reposting.

* * *

The previous tenant of your new apartment had assured you that there were no issues with the apartment, the landlord, the building, the management company, or the neighbours. It was peaceful, quiet, they had said. They were clearly lying.

You pull the pillow off your head and huff, frowning into the darkness of your bedroom. You check the clock: 2am. 2am. Who does karaoke at 2am on a Wednesday?! You put the pillow back over your face and scream into it; you can’t hear it yourself over the noise of your next-door neighbour’s wailing and warbling. This has been going on long enough.

He has no set pattern, no set routine, it seems, so it’s not even as if you can plan your life around it. At weekends, you don’t mind; people can do what they like at the weekend; you’re not immune to fun! And, truth be told, he has a nice voice; at least he can actually sing well. But cranking up the karaoke machine at midnight on a weeknight is pushing it. And you’re at your limit. You’re supposed to be sleeping but your heart is hammering as anger floods your system, blood roaring in your ears, your patience so worn, it’s transparent.

It’s almost project deadline time which means a) there is more work to do than there has ever been because, obviously, everyone is running behind and no one is ready and b) very important meetings with the clients to explain why you’re behind and how, actually, it’s fine and ok and you are all good at your jobs even though nothing is ready. It would be stressful and exhausting on 8-hours a night, but you were scraping through with three or four thanks to your pop-star wannabe neighbour.

Silence. Has he stopped? Is it over?

A new song starts. The single thread with which you had been hanging on snaps and you sit bolt upright in bed. Something has to be done.

You run a hand through your hair, put on a top and some trousers, and take a deep breath before stomping out of your apartment to stand at the door of the apartment to the right. You can still hear him out here.

You thump on the door, four heavy-handed, side-fisted thumps. No answer. You try again, harder and more this time. No answer. You consider going back to your apartment for a pair of boots to try to kick the door (or kick the door in, either way) when it finally swings back.

“Oh,” is what comes out. Your brain has fallen out of your ears.

You hadn’t given much thought to what your neighbour might look like; it certainly hadn’t occurred to you that he might look like that: all tall and dark and handsome, with those huge, brown eyes, and... and... see-through pyjamas. You bite your lip as he looks at you, confused but friendly; you still dimly remember why you had been knocking at his door in the middle of the night but, somehow, you can’t get your mouth to move.

“Are you ok?” he asks, brows creasing in concern. His pink tongue pokes briefly out of his lips as he sucks his lip ring into his mouth and you are transfixed. Your poor brain is scrambling to try to get you to say anything when all your body’s attention is somewhere far south of that. You gulp.

“You are loud,” you say and groan internally at yourself. Get a grip!!! He’s just a man! He’s a man who’s keeping you up! He’s a man you came here to tell off!

Yeah, but he’s a man that looks like that.

Your eyes move from his mouth to his hands, still holding his karaoke mic. Little tattoos on his hand, bigger tattoos moving up his arm, his muscled, well-defined arm. Your heart skips a beat when you imagine that hand around your throat and that beat is taken up with a throb in your core.

“Uh, oh, the karaoke? Is it too loud?”

“Yes,” you answer weakly, your voice disappearing as he scrunches up his nose and ruffles the hair at the back of his head, bashful. You wish you had thought to put on underwear beneath your pyjamas; your nipples are hard, all too visible underneath the pale vest and you can feel your arousal between your legs. You cross one foot in front of the other and squeeze your thighs together.

You’re ashamed of yourself, honestly. You came to tell him to knock it off and put a sock in it and shut the fuck up because some people (clearly not him) have real jobs that require them to get up early in the mornings and use their brains which, in turn, require a good night’s sleep and yet, here you are, a mindless, gawping hole with cum for brains and one, singular thought resounding in your head.

“Oh, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know you’d be able to hear it. I guess it is kind of late...”

“Yeah, it’s late,” you say, able only to echo what’s already been said, not daring to say more lest that thought escape out of your mouth while your brain is unavailable.

“I’m sorry, yeah, I’ll turn it down; I’ll try to be quieter next time!” His smile is glorious; he glows and you can only bask in it.

When you don’t leave, he falters.

“Um, do-.. C-… I-… Is there something else?”

Yes, there is, your brain says to you. Yes, I want to put my mouth all over your body. Yes, I want to make you sing my name. Yes, I want to fuck you and make you cum so hard, you actually shut the fuck up. Your eyes rove his body hungrily, unsupervised by your mushy brain, and when you finally meet his gaze, the look on his face is different.

The cute, baby-faced, little cherub is gone and his eyes look darker now. He raises an eyebrow at you and you swallow a whimper.

“Do you want to come in?” he asks.

You don’t respond but he moves backwards and you follow, letting him shut the door behind you. You stand awkwardly as he goes to the kitchen and gets out two shot glasses and a bottle of soju. He opens it, pours the shots and slides one along the counter in your direction.

You’re surprised, a little unsure, but you take it and down it and he refills the glass.

“I’m Jungkook, by the way.” He raises his glass at you and takes another shot.

You tell him your name and drain your glass, moving further into the room. It’s dim, main lights off, a standing lamp in the corner, one on a corner table, and a colourful, swirling lamp casting rainbows across the walls, across Jungkook’s face, across his body... There’s a mattress on the living room floor and it’s incongruent enough that it slightly shakes you from your stupor.

“Does this apartment not have a bedroom?” you ask.

Jungkook giggles, scrunching up his nose again and he sighs.

“It does. I just... also have a mattress in here...”

You don’t ask why. You don’t think you need to.

“It’s not like that,” he says, as if reading your mind. “I just... like to lie down and the sofa isn’t comfortable really, especially if I fall asleep on it. It just- I don’t know, it made sense to me.”

“You’re kind of weird, right?”

He laughs, surprised, and then shrugs.

“I don’t know. I guess. Maybe? Is that bad?”

You shake your head and move closer, putting your empty glass down next to his. He refills them both and this time, you clink them together and he holds your gaze as you sink them.

The soju has rounded your edges and you have completely forgotten your anger, forgotten your anxiety about work, forgotten about everything else outside of these four walls. It’s just you and Jungkook – that guy that you have been ranting and raving about since you moved into this apartment a few weeks ago, that guy you hated, that guy you were going to give what for... that guy with his hand on your arm, that guy moving closer to you, so close you have to tip your head back to see his face.

“Did you really come to complain about the noise?” he asks, his voice quiet and low. His hand moves to your hip, gently fingering the waistband of your trousers.

“Yes,” you whisper back, your mouth dry, adrenaline and alcohol buzzing through your system.

“Is that all?”

His face is so close to yours now; he nudges your nose with his and you can just barely feel his lips hovering over yours. You intend to close your eyes for just a second, just a second to catch your breath, but he whips it from you, closing the minute distance between you, his lips on yours, so soft, so sweet.

Your body responds before your mind has registered what’s happened. One hand rakes through his hair, the other gripping his arm; he pulls your whole body closer, wrapping an arm around you, holding you tight. He has your bottom lip in his teeth, letting go to slip his tongue into your mouth. He moans and you’re suddenly brought to your senses. You jump back and shake your head.

“No, wait, no! I did actually come here to complain about the noise! That is all! That is all! I didn’t even know who you were or what you looked like when I knocked on the door.”

Jungkook chuckles darkly.

“Yeah that much was pretty clear.”

“What does that mean?”

“I saw your face when I opened the door. Not much good at poker, are you?”

He grins and you want to hate him again but he’s so cute even when he’s being smug and condescending.

“Is this how you get away with it?” you ask. “You just look like that and people let you do whatever you want, is that how it works?”

He looks taken aback, almost offended.

“What do you mean? Get away with what?”

“With this!” You fling an arm out towards the karaoke machine and gesture with the other to the microphone sitting on the kitchen counter. “It’s 2am, Jungkook! On a Wednesday! And you’re screaming into a microphone! Who does that?!”

You’re relieved that your anger is back. He is heady and intoxicating and the anger is refreshing – not to mention that getting dicked down by him will do absolutely nothing to solve the actual problem at hand.

“I didn’t know you could hear it!” He’s raising his voice now, too. “No one has ever complained before!”

“Yeah! Because you look like that!”

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means my brain dribbled out of my ears the second I saw you and I forgot that I fucking hate you-!”

“You can’t hate me! You don’t know me!”

“I know you enough! I know your favourite songs! And I know that I can’t fucking sleep because of you! So, I got out of bed to come over here and tell you to just fucking shut the fuck up, and then you opened the door and you’re so ridiculously good-looking that I forgot! I fucking forgot that I’m livid with you!”

“Well, I can’t help what I look like. It’s not my fault you’re attracted to me.”

“If you were a normal person who didn’t go karaoke in the middle of the night then I may never have met you, so it might not be your fault that you look like that but it’s definitely your fault that I had to find out about it.”

“So, you’d rather have never met me?” He moves closer to you again, looking down at you, licking his lips, catching the bottom one in his teeth. “Really?”

You can’t say yes. You can’t say no. You want him to just take you, to shatter the tension between you and fuck you into next week. You can’t tell him that... Can you?

“I didn’t say that, exactly,” you respond, your voice thick, your heart trapped in your throat.

“Then what are you saying?” His body is close against yours now, his hands on your skin beneath your top, sending sparks flying, a shiver down your spine as he presses his lips to your jaw.

“For fuck’s sake, Jungkook,” you growl. “You can’t just fuck your way out of this.”

“No? Can I at least try?”

He pushes his hips against you and he’s hard. He kisses your neck, licking and sucking, drawing tiny gasping breaths from your reluctant mouth. As one hand moves around and he gently pinches your nipple, you moan.

“Fine, fine,” you answer. “But this had better be really good.”

He pulls back and grins, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Oh I’m not worried about that.”

He slips his hands down and lifts you suddenly, carrying you with apparent ease to the mattress on the floor. Then they’re immediately at the waistband of your trousers, pulling them down your legs, throwing them across the room.

“You’re going to fuck me on the floor? Don’t I deserve better than that?” you ask, resting on your hands.

He looks up at you, his hands on your ankles. He tugs quickly and you fall back with a light squeal. You raise your head and he’s crawling over you, his eyes black.

“I’ll fuck you on the actual floor if you’re not careful,” he warns, voice low and steady, sending a spark straight to your core.

“Is that right?”

You know that he could rip you in half without breaking a sweat but you don’t want to make it easy for him. He chuckles and rolls his eyes, shaking his head so that his hair falls forward and tickles your face.

“Are you always such a brat?”

He takes your jaw in his hand, resting his full weight on the other, and grips it tightly. He considers you for a moment: your pupils wide, mouth open, breathing heavy. Then he loosens his grips, strokes a thumb over your cheek.

“Why don’t you try being a good girl?”

“Fuck you.”

His hand snakes to your neck, wraps around your throat.

“Is this ok?” he asks quietly and you nod fervently.

“Then why don’t you try saying that again.” The difference in his voice sends more arousal pooling at the crux of your legs. He’s commanding, authoritative, in charge. You’re already aching, desperate for him.

“F-”

As you go to speak, his hand squeezes hard on your throat, cutting you off. His eyes bore into yours and he lets go.

“Sorry, what was that?”

As you open your mouth to reply, he squeezes again. You kick your legs and squirm beneath him even after he lets go. He lowers his face to yours and kisses your cheek, whispering in your ear.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes, yes, please.”

His hand squeezes once more then lets go your throat and travels down your torso. He kneels back and hooks the hem of your vest under his thumbs.

“If you’re a good girl,” he tells you, lifting your top over your head and discarding it, “Then I’ll be good to you...” He presses kisses against your throat and chest and he sucks a nipple into his mouth, swirling it with his tongue and you can’t stop your hips bucking below him. Releasing you with a pop, he continues. “But if you insist on being a brat...” He kneels up and gives a swift, sharp slap to your pussy. You gasp and his face switches back, cute and open and concerned; he mouths the question ‘are you ok? Is this ok?’ and you nod, nod, nod.

“Yes, yes, please.” Like a doll with a ring-pull in her back, it’s all you can say.

“So tell me,” and it’s authoritative Jungkook back again, “Are you going to be good or are you going to be a brat?”

He sits and waits for your answer, slowing unbuttoning his shirt, keeping his eyes on you. You don’t know the answer. You just know you want him, desperately; the need in your centre is so strong, it’s almost painful; your walls are fluttering, clenching around nothing; arousal almost pouring out of you onto this stupid mattress on the floor. You’re shameless with desire. You’ll do anything, anything to have him inside you.

“I asked you a question. Are you going to be a good girl or are you going to be a brat? Don’t make me ask a third time.” His voice is sharp and he stands to take off his trousers and boxers.

“Fuck,” you gasp when he’s finally naked, his prick standing proud before him. Your mouth waters and your pussy floods at the sight. “Good, good, I’ll be good, I’ll be good.” The words tumble from your mouth in a rush and you sit up, about to get to your knees when he pushes you back down. “I’ll be good, I swear,” you whisper. “Just please-”

“Please what, princess?” He’s sweet now, indulgent, his lips back on your neck as his fingers trail down your stomach.

“Please touch me.”

“Touch you? Oh, but I am touching you. Look-” He gestures with his free hand to where his other dances his fingers across your stomach. Kneeling, he pulls your legs apart, settling them over his legs, stroking your thighs.

“No,” you whine, rolling your hips as if there is anything there to roll them against. You can feel a bead of sweat roll down your spine as Jungkook hitches you higher, pulling you closer so that you can feel his cock rest against your clit. You whine again but he’s holding you so tight that you can’t move.

“No? No? So you don’t want this?” He presses his thumb into your swollen, throbbing clit and you keen, grasping the blankets in your fists.

“Please, yes, please, that.”

“You like that?” He moves his thumb in slow circles and you think you might explode with need. You’re so wet and so sensitive and your head is swimming as your body tingles all over, as if the surface of your skin is sparkling water, bubbles rising and popping, goosebumps sprinkled from top to bottom.

“Yes, yes- ahh, yes, fuc- yes.. But-”

“But?”

“More. Need more.”

Jungkook sighed and removed his hand.

“No,” you cried, trembling with desire. “Please.”

“That’s right, princess, you ask nicely now.”

“Please, please touch me,” you beg, unravelling with unmet desire. “Please, Jungkook-, hngh-”

His thumb is back and insistent now and you moan as he finally slips two fingers into your wet, aching cunt.

“Fuck, Jungkook!”

“Mm, yeah, I like it when you say my name like that.”

“Jungkook, mm- fuck... Faster.. Please.”

“As you wish.”

Pleasure coils tight inside you as he hooks his fingers inside you, pressing hard against your front wall. Your walls begin to clench against his fingers and your muscles tighten as he brings you to the edge.

“Please, please, please, please, please, please...” You repeat over and over, your mind barely present, only conscious of your climax, closer and closer, so, so close until Jungkook stops. “What? What?” You look at him, wild-eyed and he grins like snake. “Why?” You sound petulant, you can hear it yourself, but you were so close and you need it so badly.

“You’re just so wet, princess. I don’t think I can go another second without tasting you.”

You expect him to curl forward, shuffle towards the edge of the bed, and bring his mouth to you, but he wraps his arms and around your waist and hoists you upward, bringing your burning core to him. You’re virtually upside-down, his cock pressed against your back. Keeping one arm tight around you, Jungkook slips his other hand under your opposite shoulder making sure you don’t slip, and then he kisses your thighs and your puffy outer lips and he licks the crease of your hip and you’re whining, squirming, his hot breath against you torturous, tantalising.

The blood is rushing to your head and your vision swims as he finally puts his lips where it matters. He licks through your folds and you moan, free and wanton, your breath hitching, voice breaking when he flicks your clit, then seals his lips around it.

“Fuck! Fuck! Ah-.. Jesus- fuck.”

You can barely move as he’s holding you so tightly, so securely as he sucks hard at your tight pearl, as he licks through your folds, as he pushes his tongue inside you, drinking you greedily, hungrily, insatiably. He moans and it sends a shiver down your spine. You’re dizzy but you don’t know if it’s being upside down or if it’s being licked and sucked and slurped at as if Jungkook’s life depends on it.

He doesn’t move his mouth from you, moaning and groaning, sending vibrations through your core until you’re light-headed. You’re back on the edge as he sucks at your clit, the soft pad of his tongue rubbing over you; your walls are clenching, your hands are shaking, your thighs trembling as pressure builds. You glance up at him: eyes closed in concentration, brows together frowning into you, tiny hairs sticking to his forehead with sweat.

“Fuck, Jungk-”

Your orgasm takes the rest of his name from your mouth, replacing it with a long, loud whine. Even he can’t stop you squirming as pleasure pours over you. Colours and patterns dance in front of your eyes as your whole body starts to shake, toes curling, legs squeezing Jungkook’s head. But he doesn’t stop, mouth still moving against you, drinking you in like you’re an oasis and he’s been wandering the desert for forty nights.

“Jungkook!” you gasp, fingernails finding his thigh, grasping, digging. “Jungkook!”

He moans in response but doesn’t detach and you think you might die if he keeps going, don’t know if you can take anymore. You feel floppy; you feel drunk; you feel giddy and hysterical. He releases your clit and you gasp, relieved, but he hasn’t finished. He licks through your folds, wanton and in search of more.

“Jungkook, I can’t,” you whine, your voice almost breaking, tears almost pricking in your eyes.

“Be a good girl.” His voice is deep, dark, liquid as he speaks, his lips still touching your skin. It makes you shiver. It makes your empty pussy throb. “Just be a good girl, ok?”

He hoists you up another inch and your head falls between his legs, fully and completely upside-down now. You arch your back against him and his nose bumps your clit, shooting a jolt right through you. His mouth is moving slower now and you’re grateful for the reprieve but then he’s back on your screaming bundle of nerves and, no, that’s you screaming. You screaming his name, screaming yes and screaming nothing comprehensible. You feel feral, no longer human but animal, no longer aware of anything but his mouth and your cunt. Your nails dig into the flesh of his stomach but he merely growls against you, holding you tighter. You feel like you’re trapped in a riptide, rolling and swirling and tumbling, barely breathing, choking on his name in your mouth.

He pulls another orgasm from you, a shuddering, thunderous climax the likes of which you have never before experienced. Everything pulls tight like an overstretched elastic band and then it’s snapped and you’re free-falling, a wailing cry sounding far off in your ears, as if you’re out of your body. Jungkook gently shuffles backwards, lowering you to the mattress, where you lie, panting, your head spinning, every part of you feeling as if you were on another planet. Your body feels heavy and weightless at the same time, limbs like lead somehow floating above you.

He kisses your feet and your ankles and your calves. He kisses your knees and your thighs and your stomach. He kisses the tips of your fingers and the palms of your hands and the crooks of your elbows. He kisses your shoulder and your neck and your ear and your cheek. He wipes the hair from your brow and gently turns your face towards him. His face is swimming in front of you as the blood still slowly levels out in your body.

“Are you ok?” he whispers, those huge, dark eyes bright and shining. The swirling colours of the kaleidoscopic lamp pass over his face and you think you might just be dreaming. He wipes at his lips and his chin, but he’s still sticky and shiny with your arousal all over him. “You ok?” he repeats.

A sound that isn’t a word leaves your lips and you frown and try again.

“Tem-… bu-… uh... Fu-…"

He giggles and kisses your cheek again, pressing his nose against you.

“You want some water?”

You can only nod as you wait for your body to come back into itself, as you wait for your brain to pick itself back up off the floor. When he brings the glass over to you, he has to help you sit up; you lean heavily against him as you gulp down the full glass in one. You gasp as you finish, water trickling down your chin and onto your chest. You lean your head back on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“I... I...” You start but you don’t know what to say.

“Mm? You what?” Jungkook’s hand starts to stray, gently rubbing your side; his mouth connects to your neck again and your head falls to the side. “You were such a good girl,” he purrs and you are thrilled by the praise.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, so, so good for me, princess. Think you’re ready for me now?”

“Oh...”

It’s not that you don’t want it. It’s that you can barely sit upright without leaning against him, your legs all jelly and your spine a column of paper.

“It’s ok, you can say no,” he reminds you, stroking your leg.

“No, no, -”

“That’s ok.”

Jungkook shuffles behind you, laying you against the sofa while your brain strives to catch up.

“No, no, no I mean, no, I don’t mean no I-. No, YES. Yes, I mean yes.” You twist so you’re facing him and press your palms his chest – soft, firm, warm – and push yourself up. “Yes, I mean yes. Please, please fuck me.”

He grins and takes your face in his hands.

“You’re so cute when you beg.”

He kisses you, still so soft, still so sweet. Still so strong: he scoops you up in his arms and lifts you so you’re straddling him, without breaking the kiss. He sucks on your tongue and you moan, your body awakening once more. You slip your hand down and find his cock, hot and hard between your bodies, the tip slick with precum. You twitch at the thought of him inside you as your fingers don’t quite wrap all the way around him. Jungkook moans as you spread the precum around his head, thumb gently bothering the soft underside.

“Fuck, one sec.”

He sets you back down on the mattress and stumbles hastily to another room, returning with a condom in his hand. He rips it open as he kneels back down in front of you and then slips it over his tumescent length.

“You still want this?” he asks, as if the greed and desire weren’t plain in your face.

“God, yes. Please.”

“You’re so needy!” He laughs and presses a firm kiss to your lips. “That’s just how I like you, princess.”

From your kneeling position, he hooks his arms under your thighs, spreading them wide, lifting and pressing you against the edge of the sofa.

“This ok? Comfortable?”

You honestly can’t even tell. All you can feel is the deep, heavy drag of desire in your core, the persistent, empty ache of Jungkook not inside you. You nod, dumbly, and swallow as he runs the head of his cock through your soaked wet folds before pressing into you.

Oh, he’s big. He’s slow and careful as he stretches you out and you whimper, not because it hurts but because it feels so, impossibly good.

“Tell me how it feels,” he commands.

“So big,” you pant. “So good.”

“Tell me if you ne-”

“No, don’t stop.” Your hands grip his shoulders and you look him in the eye. “Do not stop. Please.”

He doesn’t stop until there’s no more left to give and he holds you there, stuffed full. You wait a moment and then another but he doesn’t move. You try to roll your hips against him but you’re held fast between the sofa and Jungkook and he is like a statue, unmoving.

“Jungkook?”

You try to catch his eye but he’s looking down at your body with his lip between his teeth.

“Jungkook.”

“What, princess? What do you need?”

He looks at you with a grin and you realise he’s just teasing you, waiting for you to beg some more. You huff and pout and look away, refusing to meet his eye again. You cross your arms over your chest.

“Uh oh,” he says, gently tucking your hair behind your ear. “Uh oh, is my good girl sulking? Have I spoilt you, princess? Given you too much of what you want already?” He grips your hair tightly and pulls your head back. “Have I created a brat out of you?”

“No,” you reply, still petulant and pouting.

“No? Then where’s my smile? Where’s my ‘please’?”

You look at him, bottom lip still jutting, and he raises his eyebrows.

“Oh, that’s a real shame...” He starts to pull out of you, as slowly as he went in and you bite the inside of your lip to keep quiet. “I was really looking forward to fucking you, but we don’t reward bratty behaviour in this house...” As his tip reached your entrance, you grabbed his arms, no longer pouting, your eyes pleading. “Hm?” he asked. “What’s that?”

You growled and rolled your eyes and dropped your head back, taking a deep breath before snapping it back.

“Please,” you spit but Jungkook shakes his head and falls from you.

“No, no, that’s not how we ask nicely, is it?”

He drops you and you flop onto the mattress but before you can react, he’s lifting you up again, turning you around, bending you over the sofa. He presses himself against you and the two of you moan in unison. Then he smacks you hard on your right glute and you gasp.

“You ok?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s what you get for being a brat.” He smacks you hard again in the same spot and you whimper. He licks over the sting and cracks you on the other side.

“Jesus!” you exclaim.

“Too much?”

“No, no, keep going.”

Another smack.

“Keep going what?”

“Keep going, Jungkook.”

And another.

“Keep going what?”

Seconds pass in tense, exhilarating silence. Your heart skips in your chest at the thrill of it, of denying him what he wants, of what he might do in return. As the seconds tick by, another and another and another, Jungkook’s hand sneaks around in front and he grabs your clit sharply and twists.

“Oh Jesus, fuck!” you cry, your head dropping onto the sofa.

Jungkook’s lips are back at your ear.

“Is it too much?” His voice is so gentle and the contrast makes you laugh.

“No, no, it’s not.”

“Ok, you say when, though ok?”

You nod and he kisses the shell of your ear.

“Please, keep going,” you say and he laughs.

“See? So, you do know how to ask nicely, eh?” He leaves a trail of kisses down your spine and rolls his hips, his dick sliding through your wet folds so that you moan. “Come on, then, princess, enough being bratty. Ask nicely for what you want.”

But you don’t want to ask nicely. Not anymore. You push your hips back against him and his hands come down, squeezing them tightly, fingers pressing hard into the skin, the muscle.

“Just fuck me, Jungkook,” you growl.

“Eh?”

You turn your head to look at him, dark, determined.

“I said, just fuck me.”

He smirked and sucked his teeth with a shake of his head.

“What a rotten princess you are, so spoilt, so quickly.”

He bends down and takes a hard bite of your bum cheek. He doesn’t let go, his teeth sinking deeper into your soft flesh as you whimper. You whimper even as fresh arousal pools inside you and your walls flutter. They flutter around nothing as you try to push back or wiggle your hips or get him to move. You hear him growl, your skin still between his teeth, and then he drops you and licks broadly over the clear, dark indentations.

“Jungkook,” you whisper.

“Yes?”

You don’t want to beg but you are desperate for him back inside you. He can bite you and smack you and god knows what else but you need him to fuck you. You look at him over your shoulder and he smiles sweetly at you, expectantly. He plays with your folds and toys with his dick at your entrance, just waiting. You wish you could hold back the moan in your throat, wish you could stop your core clenching, wish you could just get him to fuck you.

“Come on, princess,” he says, his voice quiet, encouraging, even kind. “You can tell me...”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Oh, I know that,” he laughs, running a hand up to your hair, tangling it there and then tugging backwards, lifting you off the sofa by it so your head rests against his collarbone. “And I,” he growls, letting your hair go and running a soft hand across your breasts, “just want you to ask nicely,” his voice sweet and soft again. These switches are giving you whiplash and you don’t know which Jungkook you want more. Any will do, you think, but then your cunt throbs at the thought of your flesh in his teeth and your resolve hardens.

“I won’t,” you say through gritted teeth.

“You won’t?” He moves backwards and your bodies are no longer touching. He continues to move and the space between you grows, causing you to shiver without the heat of him there. He sighs dramatically. “This is very disappointing. Turn around.”

You do as you’re told without a second thought and when you’re facing him, he’s kneeling and grinning at you.

“What am I going to do with you?” he muses, an evil twinkle in his eye that you are sure is not just the swirling colours of the lamp. He reaches out towards a side table and your eyes widen when you see what’s in his hand. He turns his back to you briefly, pressing buttons on a small remote. You can’t believe your ears when music fills the room and Jungkook brings the mic to his mouth.

“Any requests, princess?”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkook #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts #mmm repost

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magnoliaroad · 8 months ago

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4 Seasons Back Yard Remodel + Crystal Yard

My 4 seasons remodels of the Petz 5 Back Yard are now available for download! And because I went on a bit of a side-quest, I’ve also made a bonus version, a fantasy, crystal back yard!

You can read my creator's notes below:

I somewhat wonder if it's fair to criticize the original Petz 5 playscenes too harshly. It's possible that the development team faced tight deadlines or budget constraints, factors that may not have been entirely within their control. However, regardless of the circumstances, the end result was a disappointingly sloppy product, and it's difficult to ignore some of the glaring flaws. While I can understand that the developers were working with dated software, there are certain flaws that can't be attributed to software limitations. Rather, they seem to reflect a clear lack of attention to detail. Here's what I mean.

The more you look at it, the harder it is to decide which flaw is the worst. The blatant MS paint spray paint "touch-up" in the upper left, that there was no effort put into blending in the skybox, or that they neglected to add textures to the roof.

Alright, enough ranting there. None of this is to say my playscenes are perfect either, but they were a labor of love and I hope that this is evident in the final results.

SPRING

I smoothed out the grass texture to give it a more velvety, manicured lawn appearance. I brightened up the dingy looking fence to a more brighter white. The original playscene had a hole in the fence, and while it might add "character", I opted to cover over it for a more polished look. I added bushes behind the fence to cover up the skybox and to conceal the bottom of the houses.

Speaking of houses. Wow these needed a big work-up. The texture work (or lack of) on these is just bad. I'm no expert in house construction, but even mostly-brick houses will have some accents like trims to break up the monotony of a fully-brick façade.

Because of how fuzzy the brick texture is in the original, I drew in the mortar lines of the bricks to enhance the texture. I added roof shingles, siding, and trim boards to the house to make it look more like a typical suburban house. Despite these edits, it's still not a "great" house - the way it looks through the windows, it looks like the house is one room lol. I wish I could put better houses in the backdrop but because Tinker doesn't allow me to edit the animated blinds, I'm constrained to keeping them the shape that they are. Oh well. We can use our imagination.

I added landscaping rocks to make the flower bed look nicer. I also added some landscaping details like bushes, garden lights, and string lights for ambiance.

[ Enlarged picture of the garden light I made ]

I also worked to improve the skyboxes in all 4 seasons of the of the Back Yard playscenes. It would be lengthy to get into the details of all that but here's a before and after of the night skybox. You got to love them high-quality MS paint stars in the original.

SUMMER

I had a hard time with the summer one because it was hard to come up with ways to make it look different from the spring version. I did make the grass, bushes, and tree leaves slightly more vibrant. Originally I had some flowers by the bushes but I just wasn't really happy with them. At the last minute, I made the decision to remove them entirely. This makes the playscene a little more "plain" but I think some people may want a more "plain", undecorated version so that they can dress it up how they want with toyz.

FALL

Fall is my favorite season, so this was a joy to make. I toned down the color of the grass and added fall landscaping motifs. Recoloring the tree's leaves was done by using Photoshop's gradient map feature. If time permits, I may do a tutorial on this in the future.

Gradient mapping is a powerful tool for recoloring almost anything. It can give way better results than methods such as hue/saturation, replace color, etc. And thanks to photoshop actions, applying this recolor to all the animation frames took just a couple of minutes.

Unfortunately, the fall leaves look "bright" in the nighttime version of the playscene. There does not seem to be a way to implement a darker version of these leaves for the nighttime playscene. If you look at the sprites in Tinker, you'll see that there are two sets of animations for Leaves A, B, and C and they're labeled "PropsAd" and "PropsAn", which would lead you to think that the developers originally intended for there to be a set of leaves for the day time, and a darker set for the night time. I guess the developers scrapped this idea because this does not work in the actual gameplay. When I experimented with this, the game appears to randomly display the nighttime sprite even during the day time, effectively ruining the intended affect. I'm not sure why the developers scrapped this. Either they had issues coding this properly or were just didn't want to put in the effort to make two sets of leaves.

WINTER

Instead of doing recolored leaves for this scene, I made all the leaves transparent and added holiday lighting to the tree. I know the lights aren't perfect - it was kind of hard to make out which direction a branch was going, so it has hard to maintain 'perfect' perspective.

CRYSTAL YARD

This is a bonus playscene that I made because I got a little side-tracked as I was working on the 4 seasons back yards. This is inspired by the Suramar zone from World of Warcraft, so it has a bit of that fantasy, night-elf feel and color scheme. It's been years since I've played WoW but I still appreciate the enchanting aesthetic of the elven zones.

I used gradient mapping again to recolor the leaves to give it this lavender, shimmery, iridescent look. I did a little bit of gaussian blurring and layer effects to make them look a little more "glowy" than the originals.

As before, Tinker won't let me edit the blinds, so it limited what edits I could do to the houses. I would love it if I could have done curtains instead or something. I did my best to make these houses look a little less suburban and more elven. It's not perfect but it was rough working with what I had.

KNOWN ISSUES / THINGS I COULDN'T EDIT

As far as I'm aware, there is no way to turn off the snow effect for seasons like summer where it wouldn't make sense. This probably involves some code-editing that is beyond my technical skillset.

The winter playscene still has the green grass footprint when your petz walk. The sprites for these are not housed within the .env itself but in the Petz 5 Rez.dll file. It would probably involve a bit of tweaking in the code to switch the sprites to something else.

The fall leaves are "bright" in the night time version because there is no way to implement a second, darker set of leaves.

I cannot edit the blinds animation. Tinker gives you an error when you try to edit this sprite. This unfortunately limits what edits I can make to the house and the fence because of where the sprite is positioned.

If anyone does know of solutions to these, do let me know as I'd love to enhance these scenes further!

ICONS

Making the icons for these was also a fun little project. For some odd reason though, the game puts a stray pixel over them when I import them through LnzPro. I did my best to disguise them but there does not seem to be a way to fix that.

BEFORE / AFTER

With all that rambling out of the way, visit my main page over at Magnolia Road > Resources > Playscenes to download the goodies!

#petz #petz 5

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zuzsenpai · 2 months ago

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Full story (so far) of the work project from hell that's lost me vacation time, lost me sleep and hair, caused a number of panic attacks, and literally gave me my period when I'm not supposed to have periods and haven't had one in a year and a half.

I'll put it under a cut because I'm sure most of you don't want to read all this shit. I just wanted to vent and get it out.

So around the beginning of September, a video project request came into our office. The way it was explained to us by the project coordinator in marketing (who I will call "Sam"), was that it was going to be a TV spot as part of a big campaign that the CEO is requesting. The topic is letting people know that our healthcare network has a zillion awards for all 15 of our hospitals, compared to the other healthcare network in our area (this is a VERY common marketing strategy for us even though it's been proven the public does not give a shit which network has the most awards). It's a very dull "look at us and our awards and stats" video that, again, the public couldn't give a shit about. But the CEO wants it because ego.

We were told the video needed to be produced in two weeks, because the CEO wants to see the campaign ASAP. This means, for my team, that we don't have time to shoot new footage for this campaign. We were given a pretty mediocre script (we do not write the scripts), with directions to get it professionally voiced and to use old footage we've already shot in order to get this done in time.

That's where I became involved. I'm not a videographer (I do the animations and various other things). I know how to edit, and I know how to edit fast. But if this were a piece we had time for (that had a much better script), our video team of FOUR videographers would have handled this. But I got the project because of the bullshit reasons that I "know where all our footage is" and "can edit fast".

This was a week before I was supposed to go on vacation. I was supposed to go on vacation for a week and a half. My manager (who I will call "Betsy") KNEW I was going on vacation, but she still gave me the project. I know I should have given it to the video team and that point, but I didn't. That was my first and biggest mistake.

The higher-ups in marketing took their sweet ass time choosing an ending tagline and creating graphic design elements I could use in my video. I still didn't have them by the end of that week. We had our voiceover guy record half a dozen taglines that were supposed to be chosen from, just so something could be eventually edited in.

I had a draft that didn't include the tagline or graphic design elements ready by the end of the week. Meaning the day before I went on vacation. My second and almost just as big mistake was saying I would work on it over vacation. But honestly, this was for the CEO, and the VP of marketing hadn't approved my raise yet and I am always feeling like I would be the first on the chopping block if we needed to downsize the department. So I wanted to prove myself.

Anyway, while I was on vacation, I kept all the channels open: Teams, Outlook, etc. I had a VERY hard time relaxing because I knew at any moment I'd have to pick this project up. I also have massive burnout and just could not get myself to chill out. Anyway, a couple things happened by Thursday of that week: the tagline was finally chosen, the script changed and a whole 20 seconds was added to the video, and the graphic design elements came in. Keep in mind the project was supposed to have been done in two weeks. Meaning by the literal NEXT DAY. That wasn't happening at this point, so I was given a new deadline of a first draft by the following Wednesday.

I scrambled to coordinate the voiceover guy coming in again even though I couldn't be there. I scrambled even harder to find 20 more seconds of footage while I was over 100 miles away and had incredibly slow access to our video server. In fact, I could barely view or download video at all. I panicked for DAYS trying to get video downloaded, but it was just NOT happening.

I cut my vacation short and got in by Tuesday morning that next week. I had a single day to figure this video out. I was able to manage it by the skin of my teeth. I sent the draft on Wednesday and eventually heard back that Sam, the VP of marketing (who I will call "Ken"), and a few other higher-ups in marketing loved it. Great. The end!

Except the Chief Strategy Officer (Ken's boss), suddenly needed to approve it. I will call him "Ray". So Ray is new at his job and apparently needs to have his fingers in ever single piece of marketing that comes out of the marketing department. This is the opposite of how the old guy who retired used to do it. Ray is also the CEO's son-in-law. So, a Jared Kushner if you will. He's trying to prove himself and in the process, he is micromanaging to the extreme. But also it takes him forever to make decisions. Great combination there, all around.

It takes Ray over a week to even look at the video, during which I start getting other projects with quick deadlines. And when Ray does look at it, he comes back with the unhelpfully vague comments of "it's unsophisticated", "doesn't look like a sleek big city ad" and "is not emotional". So he rejects it and asks for a completely new video to be done, ASAP. Marketing collectively loses their minds in a bad way. The project coordinator (Sam) decides to inform me of this by immediately sending me an email outlining everything that was "wrong" with the video, despite having originally said he loved it. He told me a new one needed to be done and it needed to be done FAST. It needed to look like a polished, high budget, big city ad.

Well that wasn't getting done. I told him this. He didn't care. Ray gets what he wants. Even though Ray did NOT say that's what he wanted from the beginning. Even though I made a good video based on the shitty script I was given. The script that was supposedly approved by Ray himself. The script that had no story, was unemotional, and given an unreasonable deadline to get produced into a video.

This was last Thursday. I had a breakdown in my office, sobbing and hyperventilating. I decided I would finally bring in the video team. I needed one of them to do this. I needed to be done with it. I had 4 other projects with deadlines fast approaching (all of them animations, so I was the only one who could do them). Betsy called an in-person meeting with her, myself, and the 4 videographers.

I was still having a massive panic attack as I tried extremely hard to be normal in that meeting. I tried my best to explain to the team what I needed. The videographers were super angry on my behalf that I was even given the project in the first place, and they were extremely willing to redo the video from the ground up. I was grateful beyond belief. My video was scrapped, which sucks, but I didn't care at that point

A few days later on the following Monday (this past Monday), around 4PM, I was told that Ken decided we were going to go over Ray's head and "just edit the video we already have into a sleek, emotional, big city ad". Using the same script and most of the same footage. Just "make it better". Ken's reasoning was that this video was for the CEO and not Ray. And the CEO wanted it weeks ago.

Because this was an update to the existing video, Betsy informed me that I had to jump back on the project to make the edits. The edits that were a nebulous "make it better". I knew the project already and I can edit quickly. So it's mine again. Again, I had 4 other projects with deadlines of THIS WEEK. I had to send emails apologizing to a few people for not having the projects done.

So I spent Monday evening (at home) and all of Tuesday (yesterday) fucking around with the video. I asked the video team their thoughts on what would make it better and "sleeker", and they came back with things like "no amount of tricks and transitions is going to make that old footage look any better". So, unhelpful as fuck. Sam just kept saying "use tricks from big city ads! Just copy them! make it emotional!"

I did what I could. I found an emotional song, I used some flashy transitions, I slowed down some footage for dramatic effect, and I found a few pieced of stock footage that looked more "polished" than the footage I had. Granted ALL of the footage I originally used was local. It was our hospitals and our doctors and our staff. It just wasn't shot for this video. I tried to keep as much of that local feel in as possible, because I know the CEO likes that. I neglected projects for this. I stressed about this. Couldn't sleep. Got my fucking period after a year and a half on birth control.

I sent out a draft at 3PM yesterday. To Sam and Ken. Didn't hear back, but that's pretty normal (Ken sends work emails at like 10PM). 4:30 rolled around and I got up to leave. Betsy called me into her office as I passed by.

Betsy: I have something I need to tell you.

Me: ?????

Betsy: This morning Ken told me that we farmed your project out to [freelance video production company that we sometimes use].

Me: I'm sorry what.

Betsy: I didn't tell you because I didn't want it to upset you or hurt your feelings.

Me: But... then why did I work the project all day????

Betsy: Because I think we needed to show Ken what we are capable of.

Me: But that's irrelevant. He asked the other company to do it.

Betsy: Yes but I think he really wanted us to do it.

Me: So I sent a draft to Ken after he'd already farmed it out to the other company?

Betsy: Yes. But I sent him an email explaining it.

I didn't know what to say. I was furious. But Betsy is in charge of asking Ken for my raise, so I waited until I got to my car to start crying and screaming. I was in a bad state last night.

Got in this morning to an email from Ken just saying "Please find time to discuss tomorrow afternoon". So essentially a "see me after class". This could go one of three ways.

He could tell me he likes it and here are a few edits (unlikely, though he DID like the original and it's not too different from that?????)

He could tell me it needs a lot of work and changes and I need to do it ASAP (likely and stressful)

He could get mad I wasted my time, which is entirely Betsy's fault (likely and gets Betsy in a load of trouble)

The meeting with him is at 3PM tomorrow. I'm working from home because I need it at this point. I'm so sick of this. I'm so done. I'm even done typing about it right now because I am just so out of steam. I have so many deadlines and I'm so burnt out and I am so exhausted.

#Zuzu note;#work shit;

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writers-potion · 9 months ago

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⏱︎ ⩇⩇:⩇⩇ How to Write Faster! ▶️

Productivity is something that I, as a writer, have not been able to achieve for years. If you are someone who has great plans but is always defeated by your own lazy brain, let's try:

01. Writing Sprints (+pomodoro writing)

Make use of 10/15/20 minute writing sprints with a word count goal. It doesn't matter if what you write is not entirely coherent! You'll have the time to fix it in between sessions and later when you edit.

If you aren't a fan of timers going off every ten minutes, try 25-5/ 45-15/50-10 pomodoro sessions.

02. Use Music

Slap your headphones on with your favourite music.

Or even better, create a playlist that represents your story's vibe and keep it on replay.

03. Take Notes + Create an Outline

Gather notes and ideas about what you want to write beforehand to wrap your mind around the content.

Create a detailed outline of your chapter. If you need external reference, open those links before your start to avoid digging for resources in the middle of your writing session.

03. Set Specific Deadlines

Set deadlines with regular intervals. For me, I try to keep up a regular posting schedule on Wattpad so that I don't disappoint my audience (albeit small, very small)

Rather than just saying, "I'll really finish my book this year," have a breakdown of mini-goals that'll take you to the stars, step by step.

04. Enroll in a writing class/critique group

It's hard to keep yourself accountable, so this is a great way to get some external motivation.

If you need to show your writing to others, you are more likely to work harder to achieve a level of quantity and quality! They are a great source of learning nd feedback, too.

05. Remove distractions

The environment in which you write is important. Get your annoying housework done, make coffee, get the snacks you know you're going to start craving.

Keep your butt stuck to your chair as you write. If you're someone who likes the quiet, get some noise cancelling.

06. No Editing!

This is a popular one! Don't stop after every two sentences to see if your story is flowing the right way.

Save your edits for your future self.

07. Find your best time

Try to write as regularly as possible. Experiment with different times (morning? lunchtime? after dinner? before you go to bed? 3AM? - okay maybe not this one) to see which window offers the best level of concentration.

Also, look for the best place to write.

08. Play typing games (+ignore typos)

If you feel that your fingers are physically failing you, try improving the accuracy and speed of your fingers by practicising your typing games. Especially if you are someone who write in more than two langauges, improve the speed for the language you mightn't be as strong at.

Also, ignore spellchecks when you are pushing out the first draft. You can always come back to them later.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

🖱️References

https://www.masterclass.com/articles/how-to-write-faster

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zeke-in-devildom · 8 months ago

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Dissonance - Chapter 23: E. J. Novak

How had it already been six months? Time was slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. Zeke had settled into his new routine so completely, that it felt strange to think that it was already half over. He never wanted this to end. Although time moving so quickly had him stressed for more reasons than his eventual return to the human world. It was getting harder to keep up with everything that he currently had to juggle.

He was so wrapped up in studying, homework, plotting and enacting his revenge, cooking and chore duties, club activities, his reading sessions and coffee dates with Satan, gaming sessions with Levi, and spa treatments with Asmo, that his looming deadlines for his publisher had caught up to him before he had time to even catch his breath.

If all of that wasn’t enough, mid-terms were looming. It was true that he enjoyed most of his classes because the subjects were interesting and engaging - for the most part. That didn’t stop it from being stressful. No matter how much he liked learning, these were all entirely new subjects and he had started off behind all of the demon students. With Satan’s help his grades had all far exceeded the expectations laid out for him, but that had been both a blessing and curse. Lord Diavolo had decided he was doing well enough that the grading curve they had originally planned to give him was revoked.

Zeke had not been a fan of receiving a handicap in the first place, but it had been a certain safety net of sorts that he was sorely missing now that it was gone. There was a lot more pressure for him to perform well on the midterms. His success or failure would reflect upon the entire exchange program. At least the other exchange students were also under the same sort of pressure, as none of the others were being given a grading curve either. Of course they were all far more familiar with magic than he was. The only reason he wasn’t freaking out worse was because both Satan and Solomon had been spending exorbitant amounts of time tutoring him the past week as they all crunched for these exams. Even when they weren’t busy tutoring him, he was self-studying or writing well into the early morning.

Zeke hadn’t slept in four days.

At least the clubs had been easy enough to deal with. Going with a literary club had been the correct choice. He had been introduced to a wide selection of Devildom literature and he got to spend a lot of reading time peacefully with Satan. He had learned, much to his amusement and Satan’s annoyance that he was actually a faster reader than the demon. Although Zeke envied the Avatar of Wrath’s ability to never need a bookmark.

As for the fan club, other than lots of envious looks when Levi had told them about his autographed first edition copy of The Cohen Files, that one hadn’t raised any issues. Nobody suspected him in the slightest, all he had to do was lazily analyze each book with the other members of the club. They liked to speculate about him unknowingly. It was both amusing and weird to listen to fan theories about his books and himself in person, while they were all clueless that the author was actually sitting right there with them.

It was especially entertaining when Levi and Satan riled them all up into heated debates about such insignificant things like the gender of E. J. Novak. The fan club was torn on whether the author was male or female. Apparently he wrote the female protagonist too well, with none of the typical trappings male authors make when writing strong female characters. So clearly E. J. Novak was female. Satan was in this camp, he liked to point out that many female authors used initials in their pen names because statistically speaking male authors sold more books, so not making it obvious that it was a female writer was a strategy to get their books into more hands. In Satan’s defense, this was all true.

Levi was of the opinion that E. J. Novak was definitely a guy. He insisted that he could tell by the writing style and pointed out that not every male writer objectified their female characters. Then there was the complete lack of romantic subplots, apparently Levi considered this one of the core pieces of evidence to support the idea that E. J. Novak was a man. Zeke had to shake his head at it, because while Levi got it right, he felt like his reasoning was awful. Just because he hadn’t wrote romance into the books that ruled out him being a woman? Levi acted like female authors only write books with romantic elements involved. What a load of shit.

It was almost enough for him to side with Satan on this trivial issue on principle, but he already felt bad deceiving them about his identity. Lying outright when he knew the answer felt a bit too wrong, so he had to be on Levi’s team of E. J. Novak being a man. He knew it irritated Satan that he wasn’t on his side, even if it was such a stupid, silly little thing. Besides, he got to to side with Satan on a lot of his other observations about his work, the demon was almost scarily good at literary analysis.

What really had shocked Zeke was all the fanfiction discussion that went on in the club. He hadn’t even realized that was a thing! Some of the stories he’d read regarding his characters - especially Sadie - had turned him several shades of red. It felt a bit strange seeing his characters in such wildly different settings and behaving in ways he’d never even considered. He didn’t begrudge the fans their fantasies, but never in his life had he been exposed to that much smut. It blew his mind. Everyone else in the club had been more surprised that he didn’t read fanfiction. Apparently even Satan read fanfiction. Levi even got pressured to show some of the fanfiction that he had written. That was eye-opening, to put it mildly.

He was getting wildly off track. The static fuzzy quality to his thoughts told Zeke that he was starting to crash, and hard. He had been trying to finish up the last few chapters of his latest book, but his mind was so sluggish that he had drifted away from writing into rambling tangles of thoughts that did nothing to help the creative process. For the first time in a very long time, his life was actually more appealing than his stories. He didn’t feel the need for the distraction into the fantastical, imaginary world he had created for himself years ago. Zeke’s real life had become a fantastical world.

It had been a long time since he had such a bout of writer’s block. Zeke couldn’t keep his mind focused on the screen in front of him. He knew that what he needed more than anything was sleep, but he couldn’t neglect this any longer if he wanted to meet his deadlines. If he didn’t get this to his editor in the next few days they might miss the projected publishing date.

It was a pity that Devildom energy drinks weren’t safe for human consumption, but he could still get coffee. Zeke wandered into the kitchen in a bit of a daze. It was early enough in the morning that he thought that the coast would be clear, everyone should still be asleep - or gaming in Levi’s case - at this hour. The kitchen wasn’t as deserted as he’d thought however. Really it was no surprise to find Beel there, raiding the fridge before breakfast. He must be awake for his morning workout.

“Morning Beel.” He greeted with a yawn as he shuffled over to the coffee maker.

“You should be sleeping.” Zeke waved off the gentle giant’s concern, he must have been zoned out longer than he thought if it was already time for Beel to be up. Rather than feeling a sense of urgency to get back to writing he started a pot of coffee.

Lucifer would be awake soon enough to start herding them all to get ready for school, might as well make him a cup of hell coffee while he was at it. The firstborn always insisted that he preferred hell coffee when Zeke made it, and he knew about the bitterness being worse the more fond the maker was of who they were making it for. It was probably pretty bitter. He couldn’t deny he was very fond of the Avatar of Pride. Of all his demons, really.

While the coffee finished brewing he started making breakfast. It wasn’t his turn, but he was already up and needed the break from sitting hunched in front of his laptop. You couldn’t wring blood from a stone. If he wasn’t able to write, then staring at the screen wasn’t going to help. Refocusing on a new task for a little bit would probably help far more than anything else.

Beel seemed content to help too. Zeke had to keep him from eating the entire contents of the fridge anyway. Partway through cooking Asmo sauntered into the kitchen, apparently he was on breakfast duty this morning. They sent Beel off to work on getting Belphie up, while Asmo and he worked together to finish preparing the meal and setting the table before everyone began trickling in. Everyone else started showing up just as they finished laying out all the platters piled high with eggs, sausages, pancakes, and toast. He smiled at Beel carrying Belphie in.

He noticed that Satan was not there yet, but figured the bookworm had probably stayed up late reading so was running late this morning. Zeke headed back to his room, ignoring breakfast in favor of getting ready for school first. When he opened his bedroom door he froze when he saw a figure standing next to his desk, staring intently at his still open laptop.

Even while his brain was trying to process the situation Zeke knew who it was because they smelled like old books and leather, plus he could recognize Satan’s aura anywhere. It was warm and comforting, with that biting undercurrent of anger that he couldn’t fully suppress no matter how hard he tried. Finally his mind caught up, realizing the gravity of the situation as he rushed forward and slammed the laptop closed. Zeke knew deep down that it was already too late. His heart was racing, there was no way that Satan wouldn’t have figured it out. He wasn’t sure just how long the demon had been in his room, but the Avatar of Wrath was too clever not to have put the pieces together.

Satan had startled slightly when Zeke had rushed in and closed the laptop so abruptly, the demon staring at him with wide eyes for a few moments. Zeke imagined his expression was much the same, surprised and uncertain, as they both simply stared at each other for a few moments. Green eyes broke contact first, darting to the side.

“I didn’t mean to snoop. I finished this week’s book for the literary club and I wanted to talk about it with you before anyone else. You weren’t here and the laptop was open.” Satan looked both embarrassed and guilty for a few moments, but then Zeke saw the gears turning in the demon’s head before he snapped his attention back to him. “That…that was the next book in The Cohen Files series, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Now it was Zeke’s turn to look a bit guilty. He couldn’t lie to Satan’s face with the evidence right there in front of them. “You weren’t supposed to see it.”

“I can’t believe it.” Satan still had that expression, the one where he was concentrating, deep in thought. The expression that Zeke always felt a little flustered over, because the demon was so distractingly handsome.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want anyone to know.” He knew that Levi and Satan were big fans, and he’d felt bad about deceiving them this whole time, but he had his reasons.

“It’s so obvious now. E. J. Novak. Ezekiel Jada Pendergast, you took your first two initials, and the last name?” That did have Satan looking a bit stumped, like he was fitting a puzzle together but didn’t have all the pieces.

“Novak is my mother’s maiden name.” There was no reason to try to hide it now. Satan nodded as he seemed satisfied with this new answer.

“Oh.” A look of realization, then annoyance came over Satan’s face. “Levi was right. Curses.”

Zeke stared in confusion for a moment, before snickering as he realized the same thing that Satan did.

“Yeah, sorry. You lost that one. I’m definitely a guy.” He couldn’t believe that was the first thing Satan was worried about, then again, he knew Satan really liked being right.

“I was so sure.” It was adorable when Satan pouted, he didn’t do it often, but Zeke considered it a real treat when it did happen.

“I’m sorry.” Zeke couldn’t hide that he was amused at Satan’s reaction. He was worried that the demon would have been upset at him not telling him about being the author, but instead he was more worried about being wrong about his gender.

The amusement was short-lived, because other presences were suddenly brought to Zeke’s attention. Levi and Mammon were both standing in the doorway, watching them with wildly different expressions.

“Woooooah!” Levi cried out finally, rushing in to grab Zeke by the shoulders and shake him a little in his excitement. “You’re really E. J. Novak?! All this time I’ve been living in the same house as a legend. This is so cool! The games based on your books are some of the hardest, best written mystery and puzzle games ever!”

“Shh! Levi, not so loud!” Zeke tried frantically to shush the otaku’s fanboy moment, but it was too late, his room was right next to the kitchen.

The rest of the brothers had come to see what the commotion was, because they had sent Mammon to fetch Zeke for breakfast and suddenly Levi was screeching. Lucifer sighed heavily as he realized what was going on almost immediately.

“Oooh~, our darling is a celebrity and nobody told me?” Asmo practically squealed. “I can’t wait to -“

“No! No telling your followers, no tagging me, no nothing!” Zeke felt panic welling up in his chest. If everyone knew about his identity he’d have a very difficult time having any kind of private life. The whole reason he used a pen name to begin with was to keep his privacy intact. Not to mention human fans could get obsessive and crazy enough, he didn’t want to find out how bad demon ones might get.

“This is private, privileged information, and I expect you all to keep it that way. For Zeke’s privacy and safety Lord Diavolo and I have kept this hidden, even from you lot. No one breathes a word of this to anyone outside this house, am I clear?” Lucifer had been quick to try to take charge of the situation and do damage control.

Zeke could feel Satan’s arms wrap comfortingly around him and he turned to press his face against his school jacket as he tried to take deep, calming breaths. All the brothers began trying to reassure Zeke that they would keep his secret safe after seeing him so distressed about the situation.

“Uh, where’s Mammon?” Belphie asked suddenly, and looking around they all realized very quickly that the greed demon had already bolted with his secret. Nobody had to say it. Mammon would sell that information in a heartbeat without thinking of the consequences.

#obey me #obey me oc #obey me mc #obey me zeke #obey me ezekiel jada pendergast #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me dissonance

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bleachbleachbleach · 3 months ago

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8/12 - 8/18/2024

I wrote a version of Renji 11 what is at this point several years ago (RIP me), and have since just been throwing random stuff/required additions into that Note with no rhyme nor reason, so it took over two hours this week just to sort it all out. But! It is sorted!

Modern-era Renji 11 consists of 3 new scenes and 3 already-existing scenes. I wrote 1.5 of the new scenes. As far as how well I think this Chapter is going, I dunno. As a narrator, Renji’s kind of like, oh hey, here’s a thought I had. And here’s another one! Which feels legit but I’m not sure if it allows the reader to understand which pieces of information are actually important for following the narrative.

You know those reblog memes that like, ask people to identify hallmarks of your writing? The concept is fun, but it wouldn't work in practice because 0.02% of anyone who might see that post would have any familiarity with my writing. SO. I WILL SIMPLY TELL YOU. My hallmarks are that I love an interstice—love having things that should be on the cutting room floor not on the cutting room floor—but am also a firm believer in stories not needing to have every scene the characters experience to exist on the page. This combination means there’s a good chance that actually relevant, defining scenes simply do not exist and only the interstitial nonsense does. I think in certain stories this can be a real thing that works. I think it can also have the effect of nothing hanging together, making any sense, or meaning anything, without certain bits of key information/certain scenes that I simply did not include because they exist in my head and therefore exist everywhere right. I think that’s where this chapter is.

Maybe the remaining 1.5 new scenes will help ameliorate that, but I feel like that’s asking a lot of them. And then, theoretically, you’d think fixing the existing scenes would go more quickly than writing from scratch, but I don’t know that they will. Because the story leading up to this point has changed enough that the characters are in very different headspaces and perceptions of each other than they were when I first wrote those scenes. Well, that’s not true—Kensei and Renji are in a very different place with each other. Renji and Hitsugaya need to have the exact same conversation but, you know… better. And FRANKLY, I do not know whether entirely overhauling Kensei and Renji will be harder or easier than merely line-editing Hitsugaya and Renji. =_=;;

I’d really like to finish Renji 11 by the end of next week, and then take some time to finish out the revisions on Rukias 7 and 10, which are the most related to Renji 11. Then I’d like to go back to do final line edits on Chapters 4, 5, and 8 before heading into the big mess of revision that is Hisagi 9, because those revisions will be most related to Hitsugaya 12.

I’m not anticipating getting much done in September, because I have a major work deadline September 30th, and the rest of autumn will probably be kind of garbage, too, and I probably won't exist. But I would love to finish Part II (so, Chapters 12 and 13) by December. Well, speaking honestly, my original hope was that I would finish Part II by May, but here it is, August, and I am still working on Chapter 11. So: I would LOVE to finish Part II by December.

—

I did a low-res mockup of the fic banner several months ago (okay, this might have been last November). I pulled out some high-res assets to work with on Friday and played around with a new design I thought was fun, but it turns out design-wise the old mockup looks much more polished. Or it would, if I were using higher-quality materials. XD So I’ll probably go back to the old design. The only reason to continue with the new one is that it reflects the clusterfuck spirit of everything that happens in this fic, but I kind of like the way the old banner puts a pretty bow on the clusterfuck lurking beneath the surface. Maybe I’ll solicit opinions once I’ve made a more serious mockup of the first version.

#'[pivotal fic scene]'s a nothing part captain'#'it's nothing 'til you don't got one. then it appears to be everything'#^ i'm part of that rare and exclusive club where that's one of my most-quoted lines from a famously quotable show #where that line probably shouldn't feature in my or anyone's top 10 #but here we are #stories for the sea

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mauannacreates · 2 months ago

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Hey guys.

So I would have to say that this day is a special day for me. I mean, it's my birthday today, and I guess I just want to reflect on some things that I just want to take a focus on, at least for this year, next year and beyond that would be even better.

Why would I do it on my birthday? I mean, I guess I want to reflect on some things, since you are only getting older and wiser, not younger...

And it's not to say that being old at this point of my life is a bad thing. I mean, being in my younger 20s is probably to say that according to a lot of people, it would be the hype of your life. Or it's the learning stage of getting up on your own two feet without the mandatory schooling years telling you what to do.

So the past few months, besides the writing on my book whenever you can, has been a bit more of a real-life rut for me more than a hype. Trying to understand the dynamics that I have between people while also getting those free for all OTs that are easy to access at my work. Running because of the hype of my legs going out of control, and well...

I got sick.

It's not as bad as some of the other illnesses, but I got nearly the whole week off work (nearly, because I did two hours of work one day before being sent home since I didn't look the best... and was told to stay home that day.) but that gave me the time to sit, reflect, do a bit more of my writing, and have the constant sniffles that doesn't want to go away that easily, which I still have, but it is getting better.

If I were to be absolutely honest, I haven't really been writing on the computer that much on the things that really matter to me, like my stories. I have been making progress on my stories, but not 10000ish a month like I have been since July. August was a bit under, but ok. But last month...? It was a slump. Barely 6000 words that I have done of that for the past month. I guess that has got to do with the lack of goals that I have placed on myself for the past few months and losing focus on that.

But I am hoping that for the rest of this year, I will be able to focus on my drafts and to get my fifth...? Sixth? Whatever draft this is of Conjured Secrets done.

Because there is a sledge that you get to when you haven't been making much progress, and then you're just trying to remember everything that has happened in the story so far, and it's not a good feeling. So, it's something that I have to try to think about while I'm creating my story, and I'm going to have to do around 600 words a day if I want to reach to that deadline.

And I do want to make sure that this gets done. Maybe get it beta read? Edited by an editor? I don't know, but I am noticing that this time, it's getting a bit harder to do in comparison to the other drafts. I'm not sure if it's a good or a bad thing that it's harder, like it drags sort of thing, but I am willing to put my blood, sweat and tears into this draft until it's completed, and to see my characters grow from it.

This is my bit of rambling of the day. I am still not 100%, but I will focus some time onto this today, and hope to being more focus and vigor into it as the days go past.

#writing #writeblr #writers of tumblr #creative writing #writing community #mauanna rambles #writer thoughts #writer problems #writing progress #writing goals #sorcerer of runes (sor) series #real life talks

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bi-bats · 1 year ago

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5, 6, 10, and 18 <3

Hiya bestie!! Thank you for the ask 💖

5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?

Probably The Birth of a God, which is a very complicated greek mythology au where Jason is Icarus and he falls in love with Apollo (Tim) and builds the wax wings because he's trying to reach him. After his death he gets revived as Ares (I've assigned out greek gods to over half of the characters in this fic including Dick as Aphrodite, Bruce as Hades, Damian as Thanatos, Barbara as Hephaestus, Cass as Athena, Alfred as Hestia, Duke as Helios) and doesn't tell anyone, but Tim goes to Bruce to get Jason back, which Bruce refuses because he can't. He doesn't tell Tim that he can't because Jason isn't actually there, so of course Tim wages war on him, which drags Jason into it because he's the god of war even though Tim doesn't know that and adkljfdlkfjdlkfdlfjlkdj

Look I love this idea and I'd love to read it but. I'd have to WRITE it and the amount of research I would have to do to twist the plot around the way I want would be insane so it's probably going to die in my brain 😭😭😭

6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

Oh yeah absolutely. Lemme link a few (that aren't just smut lol):

sweet dreams (are made of thee) by @yasmindifference (jaytim dreamsharing 😭😭😭)

and a hand to bite by Sister (the jaytim exes to lovers of all time and also the fic that inspired Rooftops and Bookshops)

chaos is a color I wear well (and it looks mighty good on you) by @glaciya (jaytim angsty feels fic I love this one so much)

Like a Bat out of Hell by @allacesandeights (this fic. This fucking FIC. It's literally one of my go-to recs for when I'm trying to get people into JayTim and it deserves so so so much more recognition than it has holy shit this fic is so fucking good like. I very rarely read fics where I think the plot is perfect but this one is just so well done all around and akjdfajdfsdf read it)

I Didn't Say I Liked You by Generatorcat (I reread this one a LOT it's just delightful I love when they play chicken and you do it SO well, thank you for this one 💖)

Show Me the Meaning (Of Being Lonely) by @timmyjaybird (like. holy shit this whole series. I owe my life as an author to this series. This is the series that got me to consider shipping jaytim and also the first damitim fic that ever made my brain go brrrrrrr I've literally read this series like. 20 times at least and I never would have fallen deep enough into this fandom to start writing without it so thank you thank you thank you and everyone go read it)

10. Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

Definitely, and it's Now Kiss. I did not expect the response on that and if you know me, you've heard me talk about that. It just felt so rushed when I was writing it and I didn't get a chance to really edit it the way I wanted to and I've worked way harder on fics before and even if it was one of the ones that I was the most excited to share for JTW, there's just a part of me that's like: that's the one everyone loves so much?

That said, one thing about the response that has been lovely is that I've taken it as permission to trust myself a little more. There were a lot of things with that fic that I was uncertain about, but I liked them and decided to leave them alone even if I wasn't 100% sure because I was on a deadline and wanted it posted. They were probably the kinds of things that I would've fretted about incessantly and edited to death if I'd had more time, but people liked them, so it's been really nice to be able to let go of some of my self-doubt!

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

Damian has always hated that Tim can carve the meat from an action, pull the bone of it out clean.

grughauhgaruharhgau just. I love this line so much. It says so much about both of them. It was also a tight race between that and this:

Everyone believes Goldie, all of the time. He just flashes that gorgeous smile like a fucking master key, and Jason’s always been a tiny bit jealous that everyone else turned out so goddamn endearing.

also this one 😭😭😭 I really like the way that it reads like Jason's voice and also this is one of those things that he would never ever say because he can barely admit that it's true, even though it is

#♻️🐈‍⬛️ generatorcat #thanks for the ask!!!#batsasks #fic recs

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quinloki · 8 months ago

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howdy, new fic writer who just started writing smut here 👋

is there any way to get rid of the embarrassment you feel when you write sex scenes?? like I always feel like there's a voice yelling that what I'm doing is cringe or weird, especially doing anything x reader?? I can't shake off the vulnerability that comes with it, like this is what I fantasize about I guess ._.)

thank you btw, you're a huge inspiration for me starting to write again ❤️

first off, you're welcome ❤️ - I'm glad I could help inspire you to write!

Hmm... I think there's a few things to consider and possibly unpack here, but I won't be able to help much aside from getting you started on the process. (I will, certainly, help clarify anything and answer any other questions as best I can!)

First, the biggest hurdle, and probably what's at the center of your embarrassment is social and/or cultural. I don't know where you live, but a lot of places have really weird (read: christian/imperialistic/puritan) hang ups about sex. The core of these ideas is literally to be able to control people, and it's a large part of why they're so pervasive.

Enjoying reading and writing smut are then, by definition, a kind of rebellion all their own. (Seriously, I could write as may words about how awful Puritan ideals have fucked over the world as I have written words of smut (750k for the curious), but I'm not going to get into that here).

It's going to take work, because it's very easy to say "It's okay for me to do this." and a lot harder to actually believe it.

For what it's worth though, I don't think there's anything wrong with being cringe. Embracing that what I was writing was Cringe As Fuck is part of what helped me write it. Screw people who decide my enjoyment is worth less because it makes them cringe! If that's how they're going to be about it, then I'm going to write Specifically to MAKE THEM CRINGE! \o/

Bow before my power! [insert evil laughter here]

... Once you're re-writing the way a feel works, it's easier, I think. Be weird. Be cringe. Write while you feel weird, and write even when it feel cringe as fuck. Fuck the people, the society, the whatever, that put it into your head that you should be ashamed or embarrassed about what brings you joy.

Sure, some people aren't going to like it. There's not a single thing on this PLANET that pleases everyone. It's okay. Some people might be fuckasses and decide to tell you they don't like it - eat them. They're .000000000014% of the population - their opinion means jack and shit.

You've got a finite number of days in this life, and there's no reason to let other people dictate how you spend that time.

You're not going to please everyone, so just make sure you're pleasing yourself. And if that means writing x readers and smut and using all the most over-used tropes to ever exist - then do it. Do it with your head held high too, because I promise someone else will appreciate it, even if they're too embarrassed to say so.

As for the technical side of writing smut, that's going to take practice, but really the best thing to do is read lots of smut by a dozen or so different writers at least. Don't read it for the smut, but really break it down. What works for you? What doesn't? There's writing styles that make me laugh instead of turn me on, and the person who writes them isn't doing anything wrong. It's just not a style that works FOR ME.

There's going to be stuff that works for you, and stuff that doesn't. Maybe fade to black is what you enjoy writing - that's perfectly fine \o/ you don't have to be raunchy or blunt, you can use euphemisms, you can allude to sex happening without even saying words like sex and orgasm.

Read what you write a few times, over a few days - self-editing is hard, but if you can get a program that reads to you I think it helps. It helps highlight what's repetitive and clunky, and any misspelled words. Don't feel rushed. There's no deadlines. Take your time, but start as soon as you can.

Starting is the hard part, everything else will fall into place after that.

#quin answers #anon asks #writing advice

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finnlongman · 8 months ago

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hi, I just found your blog :)

If I may ask, how in the world did you manage to write entire books while also being a PhD student????

Is there a way to not let your PhD consume every waking hour of your life?? :') please tell me your secret

Heh, well, the first thing to note is that I'm in the first year of my PhD, and traditional publishing is slow. So the books I'm talking about right now -- Moth to a Flame and The Wolf and His King -- have been in the works since long before I started my PhD. I originally wrote The Wolf and His King in winter 2019, when I had a full-time job; I originally drafted Moth to a Flame during my full-time MA in 2020. So the PhD is only the latest thing they've had to compete with for my time and attention!

I've always been writing alongside everything else -- I wrote my first novel at 13 and I was writing the whole way through my school years, despite doing a million extra-curriculars. Honestly, I have no idea where I found the energy, but it got me into the habit of writing during lunchbreaks or in short bursts whenever I had the time, and while that's not my preferred way to work these days, it sure did teach me a lot. These days I've got two sets of edits and promo and admin, and the PhD, and my occasional side-gig as a bodhrán player in a couple of trad bands, and whatever other casual work I pick up (today I was invigilating exams), so it's always a balancing act.

But specifically, with these next two books: Moth to a Flame was largely finished before I started my PhD in October, with structural edits done; I was partway through line edits during the first month of my PhD, and then copyedits and proofreading after that. I was doing copyedits over Christmas, including on my phone during a family visit on New Year's Eve. I've been editing The Wolf and His King more recently, with structural edits also happening mainly over Christmas (working on Christmas Day, my favourite) and line-edits happening right now.

Balancing TWAHK with my PhD, or The Butterfly Assassin with my MA (since I sold it at the start of my second semester and that wasn't the best timing), has mostly been about speed and prioritisation. I'm lucky to be a fast writer and a fast reader, so I can get 7k of academic writing on paper in the course of a day or two and therefore keep the wolf (my supervisor) from the door while I run off and do line-edits. Doesn't mean I should, but it happens more than I care to admit. Likewise, I can (and regularly do) edit/rewrite a novel in the space of two weeks, even if that is also not sustainable.

But it's also about being open with my editors (and supervisors) about my deadlines -- e.g. we pulled line-edits for TWAHK forward to March, even though I only submitted structural edits at the start of February and there's often a longer gap, because I'm going to be super busy with PhD work in April ahead of a deadline at the start of May, so I knew I needed to get the bulk of the work out of the way. That means right now, I'm spending more time on writing, but next month, it'll be nearly all academic work.

On really good days I can do both, and usually write for 1-2 hours in the morning, work all afternoon, and then write again in the evenings (this is what I was doing in December with structural edits), but with chronic pain/fatigue and a changeable schedule, that's harder.

Mostly, though, I'm lucky that my adult books and my PhD are very closely related, so a lot of the research I'm doing for the books also feeds into my PhD, and vice versa -- meaning that a lot of the time, I'm multitasking. It was much harder when I was juggling The Butterfly Assassin and my MA, since they had nothing in common; I would basically just focus on one or the other at a time, and was very grateful that we got a slight extension for our thesis submission deadline because of covid or I don't think it would've been in on time.

Oh, and I also don't have a social life (thanks covid + disabilities) so there's that, too. And my house is a mess and I don't eat enough vegetables. But I don't have any caring responsibilities or dependents, and at the moment I don't have fixed hours/work obligations, so that's something.

As for how I used to write when I had a full-time job (and disabilities) (and a social life)... honestly I was definitely writing at work sometimes. And not just on my lunchbreak. 🤫

#answered #kirk-goes-to-gallifrey

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mumms-the-word · 6 months ago

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#17 for the writer's asks. Like you have a schedule for Nautera, and I can't fathom writing fast enough to strick to a schedule 😭, or being certain I wouldn't want to change some parts until the fic is almost done. So I'm interested to hear what your process is!

Oh man this question is so complicated for me haha here we go. Looong answer ahead so I've put most of it under the cut!

17. talk about your writing and editing process

okay so let me start off by saying...I don't have a consistent process haha

I do up to a point. So most of the time for fic, when I get an idea, I'll mull it around in my head a bit, and I might jot down a few lines or notes I don't want to forget in the Notes app (either on my phone or on my laptop), and then I'll set it aside for when I have time to write it. Then I write it, read over it the next day for edits, put it in tumblr for another round of edits, and post it when I feel like I'm happy with it.

But in reality? Oof. It really just depends. (also TLDR, writing is a process, and I love my fanfic community <3)

Sometimes the inspiration to write a whole oneshot or scene takes me and I'll write out a first draft right there in the Notes app (I tend to sacrifice work when I do this, which is bad and often why I end up with so much unfinished work with deadlines staring me dead in the face at the last minute. So I do not recommend this, but hyperfixation will hyperfixate...) I believe I wrote the entire first drafts for Choosing to Live and Ascension, Return in one day each.

Other times, I'll come back to it and play around with it for a bit. Sometimes the writing is easy! Chapter 4 for In Fathoms Below was super fun for me to write (especially the last half) because I had battle music playing and I was just so excited to get to the dragon turtle reveal. Chapter 5, which will be a much more intense action/adventure scene, was significantly harder and took much longer. I think I spent several days, probably a week fighting with that chapter, because I wanted it to be good, fast-paced, and tense...but also make sense. I'll probably still mess with it before it posts on Friday.

Sometimes, I can write a whole scene/chapter in a day. Other times it takes me several days. It really just depends. Sometimes music helps. Sometimes I just can't make one single paragraph work and it frustrates me for days (*coughcoughCHAPTER 5cough*). Sometimes I write myself into a corner and I don't know how to fix what I did, but I'm too stubborn to delete anything just yet or start over. Not every chapter/scene/oneshot is the same!

Once I have a full draft of the chapter/oneshot, however, then I start to edit it. This also changes up depending on the project. For a oneshot, I might read through it twice on my Notes app, adjusting things as I go. I try not to write a full oneshot and post it on the same day so I can sleep on it and come back to it with a fresh brain (mini fics like the Nightfall and alone, finally fics don't count, I'll post those after two read-throughs on the same day because they are asks).

Once I'm half-satisfied with it in Notes, then I'll stick it into tumblr on my laptop and use the Grammarly widget to help catch grammar mistakes. Reading it in a different font/arrangement/format also helps with finding mistakes or catching awkward sentences. Once I'm happy with it on tumblr, I'll queue it up to post, and then copy/paste everything into AO3 and post it there once it goes live on tumblr.

For a chapter of my longfics, however, I might read it several times. I'll go back and read the previous chapter and then the current one to make sure I've kept things consistent and that everything flows or transitions from one chapter to the next, for example. I'll read it once a day for a couple of days (maybe skipping a day if I'm frustrated with it) and see what each new day brings in terms of edits, fixes, and ideas. With the Masquerade longfic, because it's kind of just for me and a friend (though I'm excited that others are enjoying it too!), I'll post the chapter as soon as I'm relatively satisfied with it, maybe only spending 2-3 days on edits (not counting time spent writing a full draft).

For the Nautera/Atlantis fic, however, because I know there's a bit more hype from 2-3 more readers (and people have been SO lovely in their comments on AO3 as well!! <3), I put a smidge more effort into it. For one, I set up a schedule and wrote several chapters in advance, because last week and this week is PACKED with deadlines and work I ignored while doing other things (ahem, like writing the Atlantis fic). I wrote 4 chapters pretty much in the span of a week and then held off posting any of them until I had a good queue lined up. Then I queued them up over two weeks.

The benefit to this is that it gives me breathing room to write at my own pace while still ensuring I have content for my readers...which is different than the Masquerade fic, which I kind of write "as the inspiration strikes" and so I don't update it nearly as consistently (sorry friends). Trust me, if I posted chapters as soon as I had them ready, I would've posted 4 chapters back to back on the same day or on 4 days, and then we'd be waiting 2-3 weeks (or months) for the next chapter. I'd get bogged down by shame, I'd contemplate quietly quitting the project, it would be a whole thing. The queue helps me and my readers. I really need to implement it for the masquerade fic too.

(I still have a queue going, actually. I currently have Nautera's chapter 5 queued up to post on Friday and chapter 6 in a "midway" draft stage, and the start of chapter 7 in Notes. I don't normally write that far ahead! But the idea has me in a chokehold...and I'd rather write it than work, unfortunately.)

HOWEVER. The benefit and downside to having the chapters queued up and being excited for them is that I can still mess with them. So for the Nautera/Atlantis chapters, they might sit in my queue for a week, and every day I might go back in and make tiny adjustments. So for some things, I might only do a day of edits, maybe 2 days. For something like the Nautera/Atlantis fic, though? I have a bad habit of messing with each chapter several times lol sometimes this is fine and sometimes I feel like I'm messing with them too much, you know?

All that said, for some reason, fics don't trigger my perfectionism, even knowing I have actual readers reading and responding to them. You'd think they would, but they don't. Unlike my original book projects, which trigger my perfectionism so bad I haven't finished several of them because I want to keep messing with them, fics are consumed so quickly I feel less pressure about sharing them. I think there's a kind of freedom in knowing that once it's posted, it's out there, for better or for worse. You can fix minor edits, but you don't necessarily have to sweat the small stuff because it's just fanfic, it's posted for free, and if people don't want to read it, it's not personal. It's been really fun, actually, and I love the little community I've built making BG3 fics for people (and for myself).

I think, also, it's been healthy for me to hone my writing craft/skills away from fandom spaces first. I didn't get an AO3 until this year and I'm in my late 20s. I think if I had tried to write fanfic when I was a teen or even in my early 20s, I'd be too obsessed with the numbers. At this point in my life, I'm just happy to get a couple of comments, and happier still that my writing brings 4-5 people joy <3

It also helps to remember the wise words of one of my graduate instructors when it comes to certain projects: Done is better than good. This is a life-saver for essays and school projects, of course, but for fic, I know we want our content to be good. So I'll adjust it for fic here:

Done is better than perfect.

#asks #my fic #lots of fics referenced here lol #writing #bg3 #bg3 fic

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