#i hope it doesn't sound pretentious!!!

[yeyinde]

you write so beautifully and poetically, and your metaphors/similes are spot-on - can I ask how you're so knowledgable and creative with your descriptions? have you travelled a lot? if you read a lot, any good books you could recommend to increase one's writing skills? ❤❤❤❤

thank you so much!! 🖤 this got sooooo wordy - i'm so sorry!! i really rambled a bit, but i don't think anyone has ever asked me about how i write the way i write, just why lmao.

i have travelled quite a bit (mostly spending sporadic chunks of time split between Wales/UK and Canada), but i've also been quite privileged to make friends with a lot of people from different places and i got to stay with their families while visiting so i never had to worry about lodging too much and just got to explore different places and cultures.

other than using my own experiences, i just like pretty things. i don't really know how to explain this, but i'm absolutely in love with the way things fit together, and how they don't. i like to contrast things - particularly people, expressions, and emotions - with nature and the process of nature. i think that's where i draw my biggest inspiration, and where people have often quoted the lines back at me the most.

i guess i just like a brutal assault on all of the senses (taste, touch, smell) when i write, and especially when i read things! sort of like getting yelled at and slapped in the face, and then soothed and comforted by the same hand that hit you. you don't know what to feel, you just do. and i always focus on emotion before anything else.

i also read quite a lot of poetry and there is so much flexibility with being as vague or as descriptive as you want!

i hope you got some time from this!! i'm so awful at explaining myself! but thank you so much!!! 🖤

[clownprince]

tmwsl and the joker as a character

i'm of the opinion that one of the major reasons joker is so successful as a character is that, even more so than other fictional characters, he lends himself easily to a multitude of extremely varied interpretations -- he can be anywhere from chaotic or calculated, impulsive or meticulous, light-hearted or violence incarnate, a devil figure or simply a broken man, or all and none of these things, depending on how he's interpreted by the individual. in other words, he truly embodies the spirit of the joker card, in his versatility and mutability. and while it's certainly valid to dislike certain interpretations, it's reductive to act as if there's only one singular, objective "true" joker. and rosenberg seems to have a similar view:

"There's all these different interpretations and iterations, and it starts to become this real mystery in the real world of what this character is and what he can be... You'll get other people interpreting characters and redefining them and changing them, but the Joker doesn't have a solid foundation that we know..." (x)

rosenberg has said in interviews that his intention with the joker: the man who stopped laughing wasn't to radically alter how people view the joker:

"I sort of take issue with the idea of changing the way readers approach the Joker. I don't ever want to do that. That's not who I am as a writer... So, I'm hoping that in a year or two, when my story is out there, and there's more of it, it causes people to think differently, but I'm not trying to reinvent the Joker. I'm not trying to radically alter him." (x)

and i'm assuming that by "changing the way readers approach the joker" he means this:

"The whole idea is we're trying to challenge what you know about The Joker and what you think you know about him. I always feel like Joker works best when you have more questions about him than answers, and so we're trying to really raise as many questions and keep you unsure of what you know as it goes..." (x)

joker himself is a very meta character in the sense that he draws attention to the role that the audience plays in the re/creation of fictional texts, i.e. their interpretations -- and it seems that tmwsl is supposed to draw attention to that process of creation, of people constructing their own unique versions of characters. so when i say that tmwsl could be considered metafiction, or at least could be described as a very meta comic, i mean it in that sense -- but also, it's crafted so that there's compelling evidence for and against either joker being the "true" joker, and the art of this is that it forces readers to examine what they consider "in character" and "out of character" for their joker, or, more broadly, who joker is to them.

i understand why people might be irritated at the ending. but i think it fits well with the essence of joker as a character -- and yes, i know that i've been arguing that joker doesn't really have a true essence, and i'm not contradicting myself -- his mutability, fluidity, subjectivity, are some of the few aspects of his character present throughout every iteration; he's consistent in his inconsistency. on both an in-universe level and a meta level, he thrives on ambiguity, refuses categorization and clear answers. and the tmwsl ending reflects that on a textual level, which i honestly think is fantastic, and works uniquely well for this specific narrative.

anyway, what i'm trying to say is that while everyone is entitled to their opinion and it's entirely understandable why some people might not like this ending, i'd encourage people to read and evaluate it as a work of metafiction, or a kind of extended meta on joker as a character, rather than as a more conventional fictional narrative with all the expectations and standards that accompany it.

[yourstormthlaylirahh]

Another thing to appreciate about Photjanee’s characterization is that she wasn’t all of a sudden free of all uneasy feelings towards Tinn being gay and being in a relationship.

 Like yeah, she came through in a major way for her son during a very emotionally charged moment and provided the needed support and back up. But she still has reservations and doubts - you could see during the dinner scene and the conversation about Gun staying over how much longer it would take her to be comfortable with her son’s sexuality completely. She can’t change however many years of bias during one moment, even if that moment provided a turning point for her making a very public effort to be supportive of her son’s queerness - any previous moves in that direction were private moments with Tinn’s dad while wrestling with her feelings.

But she is clearly trying and working on herself in order to support her son and be able to stand by his side even when the world is against him. And that is so huge to see, because it’s so real. You don’t overcome homophobia (no matter how quietly or loudly it presents) with a sudden grand gesture, because it takes work to understand and rebuild your thought patterns. As much as we all would like homophobia to just disappear easily, and for people to support and love us and have it done with, it is these smaller steps that people take and build upon that lead to those big changes. It is all the minor but important choices Photjanee is taking, thinking through how she wants to respond and choosing to respond in an accepting way, that are the building blocks of a more accepting future.

It is such a hopeful ending in regards to her character, and so loving and beautiful. As nice as it is to think traits like acceptance and kindness are innate traits, what they are is actions, a conscious choice to behave differently according to the kind of world you want to live in.

[anonymous-tals]

While at times a little irked by a dissonant opinion from Ben, Kate still makes an effort to tell him that he shouldn’t keep things to himself just because she might not, or even does not agree or like it, especially for very small insignificant things. He should be allowed to have input. But even though she expresses this openness and says she doesn’t care, it seems that’s not exactly true. On second glance, Ben isn’t the only particular one in this pair.

In the season two episode, Alien Dinner Party, Kate finds out D’arcy had aided Ben in “redesigning” their living room, and apparently it bothered her a lot more than she let on: “Oh, okay, that makes sense. You’re our new interior designer! Spend your time moving a coffee table across the room with Ben…” The way she describes it, you’d think they turned the whole house upside down, but the only changes they made were moving the table forward an inch, which is a far cry from across the room, and hanging up a “Live, Laugh, Love” sign. These adjustments were small, but to Kate, they struck her immediately.

We see Ben act similarly to this in the season two episode, Family Day. When arriving at the fair, Ben notices one of the booths isn’t where it’s supposed to be and tells Kayla, who’s setting up there, it’s supposed to be “back a couple feet”. But even after she informs him that there was a rock there, he still insists that the booths should all be 30 feet apart. For both Kate and Ben, things that would be considered trivial to others, each other, are incontestable to them. And I wanna clarify, I'm not saying that to mean they're simply making a mountain out of a molehill. They're not being stubborn or nitpicky for the fun of it. To them, these changes, regardless of how small, have a very real impact.

For Ben, this is pretty run of the mill, but I had never really noticed that Kate had that same kind of idiosyncrasy, probably because Ben doesn’t really voice what he wants ever so she isn’t necessarily facing that discomfort as often as he is. Cause we see sometimes when she is met with that, she has the same kind of reaction he does. She also can be quite regimented, consistent, and while I’d assumed this was largely for the benefit of Ben(having specific dinners each night, etc), maybe some of that helps her just as much as it helps him.

I don’t really have any conclusive thoughts yet on what that could mean for Kate. Is she autistic too? Is it some other thing? I don’t know. Like I said, I haven’t analyzed her enough to come to a conclusion. But I just found it interesting since I'd thought of her as an opposite of Ben. But Ben wasn't the only one who found it easier to communicate over the phone rather than face to face so perhaps they're more similar than they seem.

[uhohbestie]

I really love you guys art and writing!

Can I get nice advice for writing in general or for writing arguments? I’m kinda stuck on that part and I really enjoy you guys writing!

Heyy, thank you so much! 💫 ;w; We love getting messages like this, it's such a mood booster! (Lock: literally I sent this to Key last night and was like "I'M SO EXCITED TO ANSWER THIS" lmao)

We raaaaaambled, so Writing Advice is beneath the cut :3

As for writing advice, in general and specific both, I think a key component is to really get into your characters' heads. I like to think of it a bit like acting--when you write, you're not just someone keeping a record of events that have occurred, you're the actor playing every role on stage. You should know the characters you're trying to pen inside and out; what makes them happy and sad, what makes them frustrated and angry, what scares them and what they aspire to. Or, more simply put, you have to filter a character down to what makes them tick. Give them a Fear, give them a Motive, give them things that drive them to push forward, and things that hold them back. Above all, make sure that you know how those things for one character are different from another, because that's where the conflict arises.

Which brings us to arguments! It's easy to just write angry words and cussing or insults but, while those might add to an argument, substance is what's important. Even in real life, arguments happen because two people strongly Believe In Something. Whether that's some huge disconnect between morals and lifestyles or just a simple "I'm right and they're wrong." So give your characters a clear Belief about the topic they're fighting about, and then lean into your "actor" role and pull up how they feel in detail. And I'm not talking 'I feel upset' or 'I feel mad,' I mean how honest do they feel they should be while fighting? Are they passive aggressive? Are they holding back their words? Are they deliberately trying to make things worse? Are things falling out of their control and they just don't know how to stop?

Really embody the character you're writing--if you were them what would you do to hide/protect/fight for something? What are your limits? How low are you willing to go?

And then, after you've got that substance--the meat, if you will--of the argument down, everything else is just embellishment! So go crazy with descriptions! How do their voices sound? How hot do their bodies go? Are their faces flushed? Is someone angry crying? Is their heart racing? Do they feel like they're going to vomit?

Describe in and around them and really make the reader feel immersed in the scene, like if they try, they could feel all the same things your characters could.

Annnd, that's all I got 😂 I'm sure there's plenty more advice out there that's more specific than mine, but that's generally how my thought process works so there you have it hehehe

I hope you're able to find something worth implementing within it, and good luck with your writing!! 💜

(Lock here chiming in to say: editing is good! read what you wrote out loud to yourself (if possible). Find what you like to write (I love to write people talking about their feelings, especially when they get emotional!) and dig in shamelessly, even if it feels like overkill! A good piece of advice I got once was to think of writing like getting dressed to go out: put everything on, and then remove one thing. I don't know why, but that really clicked for me. ALSO, when you edit: never delete anything. Copy out the parts you're removing and save them in a different file, you never know when the scene/conversation/exchange that didn't fit that moment will suddenly find a home several pages later.

A big thing I always try to keep in mind while writing is: every character thinks they're right, even (especially) when they're 100% wrong. Not even to a villain degree-- everyone every day is thinking "I'm doing my best." (Which is what makes catastrophic mistakes or miscommunications even worse!)

Also, when writing arguments or conflict: never be afraid to let your characters sit in their feelings and be miserable for a while. A lot of things in life take a long time to work themselves out, and sometimes a character needs to go to bed angry, or go no-contact for a week, or take a five year break where they completely reinvent themselves before things are ever properly resolved.

Also good luck and have fun <3 writing is fun )

[so-long-soldier-writes]

To be honest... I feel like Kai would be kind of slow academically. Being shunned in his childhood in a room alone and spending the rest of his life trying to escape a prison world, he probably never spent any time learning anything like math or reading... so he's probably not the most intelligent, academic person. 😕

Hi! Okay, first, this was a lot of fun to answer. Second, I went a little overboard again! Also, I wrote this in paragraphs instead of my messy outline format, because it's about academics and I had to get into that headspace. 😅

I see your point where he wouldn't be the smartest due to his decades of neglect and isolation, although I also see the opposite in many aspects. There's two different kinds of "smarts" - book smart and street smart - and I think he has some of both, but definitely does lack in certain areas, too. That being said, I can partially agree with your opinion on it.

Disclaimer, I'm not a psychologist. My analysis of Kai's intelligence (or lack thereof) is based on my own experiences, as well as what I've studied and learned throughout the years. I was partially homeschooled and don't mean to criticize that alternative to schooling, although it is presented in a negative light in this post. I also mention my own research on ASPD from reputable sources, as well as draw from firsthand opinions and accounts of diagnosed sociopaths from internet sources, like Reddit.

Odds are that Kai didn't go to traditional school and was homeschooled instead. Homeschool is an acceptable alternative to school, however in big families, it can become a challenge. Two parents versus eight children, most probably under the age of fifteen, is a lot to care for and teach. It would be easy for one or two to fall behind, especially in a home environment like Kai's, where they intentionally isolate him. Street smarts are also often lacking in homeschooled children. If not properly socialized with their peers, a lot of homeschooled kids become awkward adults. They may not have a firm understanding of social rules or expectations, and may experience kind of a social disconnect from others. Kai's situation is an extreme version of this, where his lack of socialization (plus major abuse) led him to developing sociopathy. In terms of book smarts, children can go either way. Sometimes homeschooled kids are extremely intelligent and exceed well in their more-secluded learning environments. Sometimes they don't do as well, and require a more stimulating environment. I would imagine Kai would be the latter, especially once his brain develops ASPD. Even if given the resources he would need to succeed in life, I don't know if he'd use them. He would only put effort into learning topics that were of interest to him or those that could benefit him in some way.

Kai would greatly lack a lot of social skills due to his neglect and isolation. He even admits to having little knowledge about interaction with others, in 6x3, when he meets Damon for the first time. Granted, he had been alone for eighteen years, but we also later learn that he probably never learned those skills even as a child. Education-wise, he lacks in some areas more than others. Again, I think he'd only put effort into something that he found interesting or beneficial. I think he's smarter than he's given credit for, but perhaps just not well-rounded in his knowledge.

That being said, there are several areas of study in which I think he would engage. First and foremost, science. Anatomy, especially. When Kai sets out on his hunt for his siblings, he wants to get Jo out of the way so he can go after them without her interference. Like he says, he doesn't want to kill her - he knows he can't kill her - but he is going to weaken her so she can't stop him from carrying out his "mission." In the scene where Bonnie and Damon find out Kai is the perpetrator in the newspaper, he delivers his line, "you can survive without a spleen" in a way that informs us he knew that information beforehand. When we see Jo's scar a couple episodes before, it's a rather clean cut for someone who was angrily hacking his way through his family. That kind of precision coupled with the knowledge that the wound wouldn't have killed her leads me to believe he had a strong understanding of the body and its systems.

Aside from anatomy, he shows to have an understanding in several other fields of science. The Gemini Coven was strongly built from astronomical foundations; the name itself is coined from a constellation, every merge must be done on the night of a celestial event, and those events are also required to open any prison world. I think Kai would try to study astronomy as much as possible for this reason. The leadership falls on either him or Jo, it is the birthright of either one, but when he was deemed different, it was taken from him. He would then try to learn as much as he could to one day take control of the coven, whether or not he would've won the merge. I think Kai's father would have done anything to prevent Kai from learning about the science involved in coven leadership, especially since he had that prison world preloaded and ready to go, and Kai would have tried to learn everything he could find about it.

Now, regardless of how much or how little he knew prior to getting stuck in the prison world, I think he would have, with time, accumulated more knowledge while being there. At first, he most likely spent weeks, months, maybe even years trying to find a way out. I can imagine he'd be very unsettled, always moving, and not quite using his thinking in the most intelligent manner. It would take some time for him to realize he's not able to break himself out, and then come to terms with that, before he's able to sit and really think. Once he does quiet down, I think he'd realize he really is completely alone, but with the whole world at his fingertips. One of the first things he would seek is anything related to magic or his coven. Any grimoires or other books about magic. Anything he could possibly siphon. Of course, when his search turns up nothing, he'd be destructively angry. If he found Gemini grimoires though, he would study them relentlessly, even if they didn't hold any magic in them. Regardless if he finds grimoires or not, he would read into a lot of occultism and try to find answers there. He'd nosedive back into astronomy, a subject likely withheld from him despite his siblings being taught it intensively. His knowledge of astronomy is proven when he's using the ascendant to try and align it with the stars in 6x4. "Trying to find the exact right spot," he has some idea of where the ascendant needs to be used. He isn't guessing; he knows to some degree where it needs to be, even if he doesn't know the exact coordinates. Eventually, it takes them to the woods, which then proves to be the spot required for Damon and Bonnie to return to the modern day. (Kai sends himself back somewhere in Portland, presumably where he got sent in by his family.)

Additionally, I think he read quite a bit of history, maybe out of boredom, maybe curiosity. He mentions he learned a museum in DC had a real life guillotine, telling us he one, knew enough history to knew the function and purpose of a guillotine, and two, had to have read something that would mention sights and historical artifacts kept in museums. He also said he went to the museum, and we met him first in Mystic Falls, which tells us he is able to read a map, which displays its own (albeit minor) level of intelligence. Similarly to this point, we also have to mention him being from Portland, yet traveling back and forth to Mystic Falls, both by himself and with Bonnie. When he brings Bonnie to Portland, he mentions he flew her half of the trip, a passing comment to which Bonnie makes a very disgruntled face. In order for Kai to be able to fly a plane successfully, he would need to have a massive, in-depth understanding of math and science. Flying a plane isn't guess work; he had to know what he was doing. Maybe he tried and failed (resulting in his death, most likely), and tried again over and over, but he wouldn't have learned well enough to keep Bonnie alive without teaching himself how to fly through some supplemental resources.

At some point, he I think he would've gotten bored enough to read topics that interested him, even if they weren't supplemental to his plan to break out. This may have included whatever he read that helped him learn to fly a plane. This may have also included anything related to baseball, since we know he liked Alex Rodriguez and had all his cards. It may have been a topic never even revealed to viewers. Now, Kai doesn't seem like the type to read fiction or fantasy for fun. If he came across a book his parents ever tried to make him read during his childhood, he'd probably destroy it. But eighteen years is a long time, especially for someone who has already faced previous isolation. I think eventually, he'd read at least a little bit.

Following this, it's important to note that he has been educated, at least to some degree, in reading and writing. He speaks in a way that is equivalent to his peers. He has a firm understanding of English and grammar, and he even writes in cursive when he addresses a letter to Jo, in 6x13. These important skills would've been taught to him early in his life, perhaps before he developed his siphon abilities (and Jo, her magic). He may have had a strong foundation that wasn't maintained throughout his "grade school" years. Once he was confirmed a siphon and his parents started having more kids, the isolation and neglect would've began, therefore, his schooling would have suffered.

The last main point I want is make is that sociopaths by nature are usually pretty intelligent. Kai would most likely have developed a lot of his "social" skills on his own. Studying his family and taking notes on his environment would have taught him a lot, which he would have internalized to use if he ever needed. A lot of his socialization was probably through observation. I highly doubt any of the Parker children went anywhere, especially Kai. He told Bonnie in 6x8 that his, "father goes out of his way to make sure nobody finds this place [their home]," which alone tells us those children probably didn't get out much. (School would require a home address; anyone driving past may take note about the children playing outside; a visit into town may have locals wondering about the mysterious family.) Jo probably experienced the most freedom out of all of them, though she would have been cautiously guarded, too. Therefore, eight children are being raised in one household, but since one is unable to have any contact with the others, he's, as Kai stated, kept in his room and not allowed out. According to my research, a lot of ASPD development happens prior to the age of fifteen, because the brain is still developing around that age. Kai said his siphon abilities popped up around the age of four, so some of his most formidable years are already being spent isolated in his room. Each year that he's continuously neglected and abused and ignored is altering his brain chemistry worse and worse and worse. He has so much time to sit and ruminate about his situation, likely leading to the plan he made to kill his siblings, whether or not it was to make a point - like Jo believed, or if he did just snap and was itching to kill to deliver pain to his father and his family, like they had brought to him for so many years. Regardless of the reason, Kai had been planning his attack for revenge, and he had so much time to think about it, having nothing else to do. A sociopath's understimulated brain is just as dangerous as if their brain is overstimulated. I feel like he was possibly too intelligent for the lack of stimuli that he needed, and that may have been at least part of why his killings were so aggressive and brutal. Also, slightly unrelated but a tidbit from research, is that sociopaths' crimes are much less premediated and often more triggered by an event or another person. (I write in a lot of my fics that the Parkers' mother died on or around May 9th and Joshua is always more agitated that day because he misses her, and that's why Kai snapped on the 10th, as a response to his father's increase in violence, but that's aside the point.) The point that I'm going for in this paragraph is that Kai's brain was understimulated in his environment, and his ASPD development is a large part of what makes him dangerous.

In summary, I can certainly see him lacking in certain aspects of education. He definitely lacks in some areas more than others, and if something doesn't interest him, he doesn't care to invest any time into it. In other areas, though, he's exceptionally educated, like math and science. His parents seemed to give him a firm educational foundation, but I would think as soon as they realized he was a siphon, they'd kind of toss him to the side, and it would be a downward spiral from there on out. Anything Kai learned past that was either due to his own interest in the matter, a clear benefit he would think to get out of learning it, or maybe even just out of spite.

[cryptojuice]

take this with a grain of extremely drunk but at this point I'm my journey? now? I'm like literally the idealest person in the world and I think everyone else has something wrong with them

[solidwater05]

stop posting #stim content it's gross and icky

Blacklist the tag and/or unfollow me. This is my blog and I post things that appeal to me, having followers is just a bonus

Also, while I respect your dislike of stimboards, you should also respect those who like them, and saying that they're universally gross and shouldn't be posted is an asshole move and borderline ableist

[buckets-of-dirt]

Man I miss the sound setup I had in highschool. It was hodgepodged together from speakers my dad borrowed from a friend in the 90s, a hand-me-down CD player that let you load 6 CDs at once, and the record player I got for Christmas in grade 9 so it didn't have the "best" sound quality but it worked for my teenage emo purposes. Dad dismantled it when I went off to uni because he started using my room as an office and the whole contraption took up half a bookcase and somehow the speakers/cd player went missing so I'll never get it back but I think of it like a long lost friend.

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

For the fic asks game:

41, 44 and 99

HELP WHY DID I JUST SEE THIS NOW??

100 Fanfic Asks

41. What is the weirdest story idea you've had? GOODNESS I gotta think on this one for a hot minute. I've had lots of ideas that I know wouldn't work as stories, so I kinda just push them to the side. I guess Til UnDeath Do Us Part (the ghost AU) is the weirdest one? Parasite AU isn't that weird cos it's so close to what could happen in canon. And the idea of this really intense dream fic where Snavid dreams in alternate realities (including one where he succeeds Big Boss and is just caught up in this chaotic nightmare; which is a nightmare on both fronts. Actual hellscape scenario and the fact that it is in fact, an honest nightmare. He's dreaming) but I know where my limits are, talent wise. 44. Any writing advice you want to share?

I'm no advice giver, because I don't even use fic outlines. But one that I've tried to incorporate better is that a story feels much richer when environment is combined with it. What I mean by that is even a little can do a lot. For instance, to me, Kaz is visually impaired. So I make him react in anything in the 1984 to Foxhound period more with how he feels, how he senses things. What he's hearing. I put more emphasis on texture around him. Ocelot has a strong, keen nose-so I have smells and scents a central focus of how he observes and feels things. Venom is quieter and is more physically reactive than vocally so. Snavid is a bit of a deadpan snarker with hidden geek tendencies. Think about how your current character is personality wise, and try to write their reactions, dialogue etc accordingly. With fanfic, they're not blank slates, so the more you think you can work with their established personalities, the better you might find your fic is. When your writing characters, you keep in mind that every person has a slightly different way of seeing and viewing things. This affects their reactions, how they perceive the world around them. What they might say and do. A little in these cases can do a lot. Don't be afraid of outsider POV either. Make an OC if you want. Have another character react to your characters. I find that it can offer a lot of fun perspective in a fic that way. 99. was being a writer a dream of yours when you were little? or did it spring up when your older? or is it just a hobby? 

I think I wrote my first story on construction paper when I was 11. I have always enjoyed making up stories but I never considered writer as a career. It is to me, a fun hobby. I also did poorly in most creative writing classes.

Thanks for sending in!

[bootsselbst]

Just had to sit through a Safe Zone training for my job and listen to my coworkers give some freezing cold takes afterwards, and I am so desperate for spaces where I can have more in-depth discussion with other queer people who understand what they’re talking about.  I have a couple of support groups that I go to every month at the local community center, but even those don’t tend to get beyond 201-level discussions, and I still hear some comments that ultimately come from bad-faith rhetoric (even though the person saying them likely does not know).  There’s nothing wrong with that, and the Queer Identity 101 and 201 spaces are definitely needed, but I just... idk, I want to talk to people who are smarter than me and more experienced than me and more queer than me and more out than me.  I want to have conversations that I’m still thinking about later, in a good way.  I want to talk to people who can let me know if *I* am saying/thinking dumb shit, people who can give me perspective, who can answer my questions.  I don’t think I’m some kind of authority, I am still a baby queer in some ways, but in the spaces I currently have access to I am often one of the people in the room with the most experience living with and learning about my identity.  I don’t remember where I was going with this, I guess I’m just venting.  It’s been on my mind lately.  (If anyone does have suggestions for where to find spaces like this, I would love to hear about them!)

[vincent-sinclair-deserved-better]

first of all: I have nothing against people posting those huge word lists (words to use instead of X, synonyms for X, etc)

however, I am not sure how many people consider "accessibility, for lack of a better term (I can think of rn at least)

like, I can only really speak from perspective of a non-native English speaker, but if I am reading a story where I have to look up every second (exaggerated) word to figure out its meaning, chances are I won't read it

and still, that only the specific issue of word meanings or translations

words being used wrong, like in the wrong context, can also be really confusing

if I want to read something hard to understand I'll go back read classic literature ahshsahab

[creatively-cosmic]

OH right i was gonna babble my thoughts after the poll ended. altho firstly thank yall for ur votes n thoughts!! again it wasn't for any particular reason other than curiosity but its been nice to see nonetheless. ill put my thoughts under a readmore <:]

as a fair heads up though my vote was Nuance and i talk about some frustration so uh. please know im not trying to be a dick and my biggest opinion is just People should do what they Like and have Fun Regardless of what I or Anyone Else may think because that's more important than some randos thoughts on the internet.

ok? ok!

i guess the best way to sum up my feelings personally is that. i consider my special interest in pokepastas completely seperate than my smaller interests in fnf stuff?

i have. OPINIONS abt lullaby and its interpretations of some stories (good and bad but that's a tangent for another day or perhaps Never lol), but regardless i still respect it and i LIKE its music and its original concepts!

honestly i feel pretty neutral abt fnf mods in general, though its not a. I Don't Care neutrality but more a "the positives and negatives i feel are equal in my mind" neutrality. they're a fun thing to watch, mess around with, and play (i fucking love playing rhythm games) and i tend to enjoy a LOT of the music, mainly- sometimes we dick around and do covers even just for songs we like and can think abt ^^ its just fun to mess with sometimes!!

but then there's stuff that bog it down for me a bit, though its mostly fandomside... just how. some people seem to take the most Popular Mod's Interpretations as gospel, to the point that lullaby is 90% of what i see in the pokepasta tag now. i don't have anything against lullaby or its takes, and im not gonna get on someones ass for liking them, but it just gets a little frustrating sometimes- how most ppls accepted takes have all been melted down to a Single interpretation from a Single Friday Night Funkin Mod. ive been using vaguer terms bc its not just a pokepasta thing- a LOT of creepypastas i grew up with that got popular mods, ie sonic.exe, ANY mario horror stuff, suicide mouse, etc, seemed to end up like this... though more notably and what i wish more than anything was for ppl to give other pastas a chance- one person mentioned it, but there very much seemed to be a thing of "The same Five Characters showing up in the popular fandom space while other good and creative stories that weren't in the mod don't get much of anything" - though recently its been less prominent i will say!!

IN THE END THOUGH i don't wanna sound fucking pretentious about it- its POKEMON CREEPYPASTAS at the end of the day 😭 and i am NOT about to harass and gatekeep people over this shit, the more the merrier yknow? the lullaby versions are perfectly ffffine interpretations and the only thing i really care about is just like... as long as everyone is having fun and not being a dick, do what you wanna do!

sometimes though.. i truly do just want to grab ppl by the shoulders and ask "did we read the same source material, or did you just get your understanding of this creepypasta exclusively from a 3-5 minute song without lyrics, the funkpedia wiki, and the fandom tags"

[ok this is a little offa our usual posts, but we mods have been chatting and got curious. so this goes out to our audience and any other pokepasta enjoyers who see this]

[we've noticed a lot of the currently active pokepasta fanbase, including some of our followers, are largely into Lullaby and we got curious abt that specifically. THERE IS NO WRONG ANSWER and certainly no judgement from us, this is a curiosity thing! id love to hear specific thoughts n opinions if yallre willing and maybe after the polls over ill share my own thoughts on my sideblog.]

[shotmrmiller]

pornstar au

f!reader x ghost x price :)

2.7k words

tw: teacher-student scenario again, just for the sake of the porn. also, DP. first time writing it, so be NICE!

big thanks to @waves-against-a-cliff for reading what i won't

You sat on Professor Riley's lap after class, his rigid length smearing precum in between your soft, bare thighs as he fucked them. His large hands curled around your waist, long fingers creating tiny dents where he dug them into the supple flesh.

His breath warmed the delicate skin of your throat, as pants escaped his lips. You deliberately pressed your legs closer together— hoping that it provided enough amount of friction for him to finish.

You need this extra credit, after all.

Ghost inhaled sharply when you did, the grip he had on you almost painful.

"Fuckin' hell." His rich groan resonated in your chest. The gusset of your knickers was damp with arousal, both yours and his. The languid drag of his cock against your clothed pussy was so tantalizing, your core ached to be filled.

You were about to urge him to forget intercrural sex— to undress and fuck you already when a sharp knock on the door cuts through the fog in your head; a sudden rush of clarity pouring over you like a bucket of ice-cold water.

Shit.

Your back straightens at the interruption and quickly move to get off of Ghost's lap when he wraps an arm around your middle, keeping you firmly in place. A strangled noise claws up your throat. He cannot be serious.

"Come in," he calls out.

"No. No no no, you can't— you'll be fired, I'll be expelled, Professor Riley, please—" your voice warbles in your panic. His hold on you is as strong as steel, leaving no room for escape or resistance. You're helpless as the doors creep open and Professor Price steps in.

Of course, it's the most pretentious asshole teacher in existence.

"Hey, Riley, have you gotten the ema—" he trails off. His striking blue eyes flick down to your legs. Or more precisely, to what's still in between them fully erect.

"I was unaware you were busy with a...student." The sound of his footsteps draws closer. "Is this what you call detention?" Price leans on the desk with his hip, eyes never straying from you.

Ghost stifles a laugh. "Ask a better question, Price."

Heat licks up your jaw and cheeks when he resumes his thrusting as if there isn't another whole grown man in the room— one who can potentially ruin both his career and your collegiate one.

"Like what, Riley? Want me to ask if I can get a taste?" You look at Price and notice that his eyes are dark, limpid blue rings around the edges— knuckles stained white with how tightly he's clenching his hands. "You've never been a sharing type."

"Well, this sweet toy of mine loves being shared, doesn't she?" Swiftly, Ghost lifts you, his manhood now nestled against the curve of your back. His clever fingers move to your covered center, and draw featherlight circles on your hood, right above your clit. A whimper falls from your lips at the feeling.

"Answer him, pet. Tell Price ya don't mind gettin' this pretty pussy licked by him." He presses down on your bundle of nerves firmly with the pad of his thumb when you take a second too long to answer.

"I, I don't," you hiss when he rubs, "d-don't mind." Ghost gives your cunt a gentle tap.

"Don't mind what?" You swallow the lump lodged in your throat.

"I don't mind getting my pussy licked by Professor Price." His teeth tenderly graze the shell of your ear, followed by a small nip.

"Good girl," he mutters into your hair. Then directs his attention to Price, who's biting his bottom lip— the look he's giving you making your head swim. "She answered, so get down here or get out," he commands.

Ghost clasps his hands under your thighs and lifts until your feet rest flat above his knees. He hooks a finger into the sodden fabric of your knickers and drags it to the side, baring your glistening slit to the cold air of the room, erupting your heated skin in goosebumps. "On your knees, old man, unless they're too creaky to handle this."

Price's lip curls with unveiled amusement. "I was simply admirin' the view, Riley. Don't get your pants in a twist." He lowers himself to the floor smoothly until he's kneeled within inches of your exposed sex.

His prickly beard tickles the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and his mouth is warm and wet as his tongue slides between your folds.

Another former industry giant devouring your passion with the hunger of a starved man at a lavish feast. Each stroke of his tongue spreads the warmth in your stomach, a pressure slowly rising, building—

"Sit her on you," Price mouths against your cunt.

When you find yourself wedged between two burly men, there's not much you can do except surrender to their wishes. That means being lowered onto Ghost— instinctively closing your eyes as you savor the stretch and biting the inside of your gummy cheek at the mildly uncomfortable burn.

Gravity does most of the work as you sink into him in one gentle stroke.

And without reprieve, Price dives right back in. The dull ache from where Ghost's tip presses into the plug of your womb, to the pleasure coming from the attention given to your swollen bundle of nerves.

An intoxicating mix of bliss with pain furling at the edges.

It's so good, teetering on the edge of too much, but when Price sucks lightly on your clit, your body seizes. You scrabble to grab his dark brown hair, blunt nails biting into his scalp as your shatter around Ghost's cock and Price's mouth.

Ecstasy pulses through you like the steady beat of your heart, white-hot euphoria coursing through your veins. There's a ringing in your ears, shrill and deafening, and your breathing comes in ragged pants as you come down from your high.

Your face glistens with sweat as droplets trickle down your temples, hair plastered to your forehead.

Jesus.

Price lapped at the arousal that dripped down Ghost's length, softly groaning at the taste before giving you a wolfish grin behind his coarse facial hair that was damp with your desire.

"Welcome back, sweetheart," he murmurs.

You relax the tight hold you have on his hair as he tenderly kisses where you and Ghost are joined.

Ghost nudges your ear with his nose, and his deep voice rolls over you like a wave. "Greedy little cunt jus' about cut off my circulation, pet." He shifts under you, sliding even deeper than before, a hiss escaping from behind your teeth.

"I think Price is feelin' a little left out, don't you?" With a shaky nod and a quiet mhm, you feel his lips press against the side of your neck.

"Think you can take us both?" It feels more like a warning of what's to come than a genuine question. The idea of being stuffed by both of them sends a thrill up your back.

Price sits back on his haunches, palming himself from outside his trousers. "Think so, sweetheart?" He rises to his feet and promptly sweeps away everything from the wooden desk, scattering them across the floor. Taking a seat on the desk, he positions himself comfortably, his legs slightly bent and his feet firmly touching the ground. How unfair.

With a hand, Price beckons you to him.

Your legs tremble almost comically after having them in such an unnatural position for so long; tingling when you finally stretch them out in front of you. Ghost's hands at your waist help you stand, wincing when he pulls out of you unceremoniously.

Under his breath, he apologizes and gently nudges you towards Price by pressing his hand on your shoulder blades. "Go on, it's rude to keep him waiting." You're then guided forward as warm hands wrap around your biceps, leading you to stand in front of Price.

You drag your eyes from his down to his groin, where his erection is confined behind the strained zipper. Suddenly, Ghost's toned arms surround you, his hands eagerly reaching for the button on the front. "Lemme help ya out, love."

In seconds, Price's heavy manhood bobs as it springs out, ruddy tip hitting just below his navel. Simon firmly grabs your hand and swiftly turns it, exposing your palm. Without warning, he shamelessly spits on it before wrapping it around Price.

A guttural noise escapes him when you squeeze the thick of it tightly. He bucks his hips in a deliberate rhythm— taking hold of your wrist, ensuring your hand remains in position as he continues to thrust upwards until his cock is slick with his precum.

You can't help but rub your thighs together in hopes of getting some of the friction you're desperate for.

"Not gonna come already, are ya Price? We haven't even gotten started." Ghost ignores his scoff, rapping his knuckles on the desk. "Knickers off and climb up, pet."

You hastily tear off your smallclothes, shucking them to the side with your foot before hopping up on the desk, one leg at a time. Price steadies you with his hands on your waist. As you straddle him, your muscles ignite with a satisfying burn as they adjust the expanse of his thighs.

His voice is soft, gentle even, when he whispers into your ear. "Good?" You gasp sharply when Ghost spanks your arsecheeks before nodding at Price. "Jus' like we practiced, yeah?"

Yeah, just like you practiced. The plug you had to wear throughout the week whenever they both weren't tearing you in half should be more than enough prep. You hope.

Ghost taps the side of your thigh. "Cockwarm him while I get this perfect arse ready."

The stretch is intense as you lower yourself on Price— his cock thicker than Ghost's just not as long— it pushes the air out of your lungs. He bites his lip til it reddens, his eyes fixed onto where he disappears inside of you, fingers digging into the meat of your waist.

Your eyes flutter closed when he finally bottoms out, his girth splitting your swollen walls apart mercilessly.

God, he feels so good.

And then the sting of one thick, lubed finger pressing into your tight ring of muscle smothers some of that pleasure.

"Hey, hey. Look at me." Price tips your chin up with his hand, your eyes meeting his. "Good. Breathe for me, sweetheart." He leans forward to place open-mouthed prickly kisses on your neck. "Breathe, love. You've already taken us before. You did beautifully then, and you'll do beautifully now."

He distracts you from the discomfort by suckling on your skin, leaving red little love bites behind. Then, a second finger, so much bigger than your own. Price hisses sympathetically when you do— a tiny whimper coming from the back of your throat.

This time it's Ghost that breathes into your ear. "Doin' so good f'me."

Then he works a third finger in, and your back arches at the jolt of pain that licks up your spine.

Words of praise fall upon your ears, syrupy and saccharine, dulling the ache. He scissors and stretches gingerly, as he's always done. Ghost takes his time, curling his fingers inside— a slow and steady in and out that eventually has you clamping around Price.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth when you do. "So bloody tight."

"Alrigh' Price." Ghost takes you by the hips and cants them forward slightly, a cry falling from your lips at the change in angle. "Hold her open f'me."

He does just that; rough, worn hands spreading you open almost embarrassingly. There's a hot and heavy weight tapping your arse once, thrice— and then there's a blunt pressure pushing into your other much smaller hole. Your spine bows at the thick invasion, it burns, it throbs, but smart fingers find your neglected pearl and start to circle it.

The pain is merely physical, it can be overcome. Focus on the touch on your clit, focus on the hands that hold you, the heat that radiates from both of them. The harsh breathing of the man behind you as he fights to keep himself from fucking himself into you unfettered. Strained noises spilled from Price's parted lips as he felt your channel constrict, your sex beginning to get slick with your desire.

Ghost hilts, leaning forward until his barrel chest hits your back, a strangled groan coming from him. You felt unbearably full, about to tear at the bloody seams. Every single nerve from your navel down to the tips of your toes was on fire. You felt a throbbing sensation radiating from the back of your skull.

It was scalding hot, searing. The thin membrane that separated them felt stretched beyond its limit.

"Y'okay?" You can't even tell who asked you that past the rushing of blood that's in your ears. Your head feels too heavy on your shoulders, letting it lull forward until your forehead rests on Price's collarbone.

Ghost's chest vibrates as he speaks, the low rumble sinking into your skin, warming you from the inside. "Breathe for us, love. Deep in, slow out."

Right.

You remember what Price had said the very first time they fucked you. 'Breathing helps to process any pain and supports the nervous system.'

As you inhale deeply, your lungs expand to the point where you can feel a twinge of discomfort. But as you exhale, the tension in your body melts, your muscles gradually slackening.

Ghost undulates his hips once languidly, and while the ache flared back to life, below that was the pleasure you've become well acquainted with, desperately clawing its way to the surface.

A moan slips out of you unbidden.

"Perfect. So fuckin' perfect." Price's praise makes you dig your fingers into his broad shoulders, nails biting into his skin.

Then you're lifted by two sets of hands— one on your hips, the other on the underside of your thighs and brought back down. Fuck.

"Tha's it, love. Takin' us both so well," Ghost murmurs. When you begin to mewl, a clear sign of pleasure, Price plants his feet on the floor, and snaps his hips up. Black spots dot your vision, a euphoria shooting through your veins.

God, you hope your hips hold out.

They begin to move in tandem, one pushing in completely, while the other pulls out until just an inch stays inside.

It's sublime, obscene squelching coming from both your front and back. Once your body gives in to their assault, everything starts to blur at the edges, from your sight to your thoughts. You melt in their hands, softening under their touch as they take their pleasure from you.

They begin to fuck you in earnest, breath punched out of you with every thrust, and when Ghost takes control by grabbing a fistful of your hair, it sends waves of something through your stomach. The loud whine that comes from you is filthy.

"Always meltin' into a puddle over a firm hand, pet. Isn't tha' right?" He asks you as if you could even dream of answering. Your tongue is heavy in your dry mouth, and throat like sandpaper.

"Ready to make Price come? Choke his cock with tha' vice-like cunt, love. Wrench it outta him, take every drop of his cum, and then take mine."

Who are you to disobey such an edict?

The snarl Price lets out is animalistic when you squeeze him snugly, his thrusts turn jarring as he swells and stills— twitching inside of you, warmth pooling in your belly.

Only to realize that Ghost finished simultaneously.

There's a joke in there somewhere, about a couple finishing together, but you've been thoroughly fucked stupid.

Cut.

Simon takes you home— his home, and soaks you in a warm, bubble bath that smells like something he shouldn't have.

"I bough' it for you," he hums.

His callused palms knead into your sore calf muscles, hand making its way down to press into the arch of your foot.

"Don't go makin' those noises, love."

Eventually, you address the elephant in the room, and his answer makes your pulse race. "Gotta create a soft safe place f'you to land after somethin' tha' intense. Ya need to wind down, catch your breath."

He says it so casually as if it was common sense.

"Here. Drink your water." The bottle in your hands is room temperature, just how you like it.

[cornyforjk]

Drive you crazy | Day 4 | jjk

⤷ SUMMARY In which you are stuck living with an arrogant rookie racer who thinks of you as an obstacle, ready to ruin your glory, but things get heated when he has a pervy smile hidden under that pretentious attitude. Emotions that are complicated. You could never fall for your enemy! He's sabotaging you.

Pairing: racer!jk × racer!oc

Genre: angst and pure filth smut

Warnings: trash language

taglist: @tatamicc @jwnghyuns @nono13bnd @hagridshaircare @tatzzz-25 @suashifts

A/ note: Hello hello hello,,,, ik it's been like,what? 10 days. More than 10 days infact. But I was kinda stuck somewhere 🥴 and I did post part 4 one day but idk why it's format wouldn't be the way I wanted it to be,,, like ykwim. Anyways, I'm trying again and I hope it works today 🤞🤞 hope you guys enjoy 💕 (Added links for the first time thank you so much @redcherrykook ily💕)

___________________♡____________________

"What's with all these boxes?" I heard a sigh coming from the living room. Walking out of my bed I look over the commotion with a smile.

"Chocolates," I answer.

"Why?" He seemed pained looking at the bundle of sweets all spread out on the table. "Can't you keep them in your room?"

"But it's for you."

"Me?" He points at himself, innocently with huge bubbly eyes of confusion.

"But I hate chocolates." He points with disgust, ignoring my judging eyes and internal screams at his horrible taste.

Not only has he got a bad attitude but also bad taste buds.

"Why would you hate chocolate?!" I screech, "it's chocolate for fuck's sake! The only saviour at sad times."

"I don't like it. Who even sent it anyway?"

"I did!" My voice was wavering with panic. "I thought you liked chocolate...so I bought it as an apology." Watching his curious face drop into a sulky one didn't help my beating heart which probably pumped out my anxiety rather than blood.

"Where did you even get this information?" He arches his eyebrow in question.

"I googled it." My honest answer has him parting his lips as he tries to form words. "You are a famous rookie. The website has your likes and dislikes listed."

Jungkook dismissively waves his hand, "you had one job..." his voice lowered. "I will always hate chocolate." Those last words were barely a whisper. My eyes shot up towards his face, the quick vulnerability flashing back into his cocky self.

I clear my throat.

"It also said that you wear your special iron man socks while racing and in bed."

Subconsciously Jungkook crosses a leg over another trying to hide his redand yellow socks that look like the character.

"Well, you wear mismatched socks." He bickers, hands on his hip.

I shut my mouth tight, holding in a laugh that burst out sounding like a chicken having asthma.

"Ha-ha, very funny," the tall guy rolls his eyes walking out of the place.

"I still hate chocolate as much as I hate you."

___________________♡____________________

With a beaten body and tired scowl, I walked into my room slamming the door shut, feeling his eyes on my back, the stare leaves me frozen still staring at the wooden door trying to burn it as an escape option.

He doesn't question me. Doesn't ask me where I have been.Shows that he doesn't care.

And a part of me feels empty without his bickering, like half of our conversations depended on our arguments.

I tightly fist my hand towering over Jungkook, boring holes in his face watching him keep his motorsports book aside. He reads, has a hidden tattoo covering his left arm, shows respect towards invasive paparazzi...what all am I yet to know about him? It's like every time I feel like I figured him out he pulls out an Uno reverse card.

"Why won't you just let it go? I know where I went wrong and I am sorry I didn't listen to you. Fairly I didn't know what Alex was like and all you said was 'don't race' so it didn't help." I confess, fiddling with my fingers. He shuffles, getting on his legs and fleeting into the kitchen without answering.

"You didn't even answer-"

He turns around tearing a piece of tissue and stuffing it in my mouth as I gag. The taste of dried woody papermixing in my mouth.

"What the hell?!" "If you don't want me to permanently shut your porthole, then you better walk out of this place."

Storming out of the room I walk straight into someone's chest, wobbling back with a dizzy head, my eyes trail to his face. His familiar smile with dimples in view with his shiny golden brown hair.

"Mr Joon!" I exaggerate his name, trying to smile back but a pressed thin line forms.

"Is it about him?" He raises his thick eyebrow, uncertain to meet my eye as he scans the door behind me trying to gaze through with the help of a mere peephole.

"How do you know?""It's a small controversy going on around here. No wonder the cheerleaders are jealous." He blurts out, batting his eye whilst taking a step back. "Plus...you could say I know him a little too well."

"Should've seen that coming, no wonder he threw you that funny look in the hallway on our first day and pretended to not know you."

Namjoon chuckles, "sounds like our Jungkook."

"Our gang can help you with his bratty attitude, we have been in your position too many times." He smiles with glinting eyes, pulling me across the hallways behind the inn where the pool resides.

Namjoon waves over a group of young-looking men huddling around the patio, my eyes feel blessed at that moment when we make our way towards them, gaze residing on their flawless faces.

"Y/n, meet our gang. The bangtan boys." Namjoon lightly shoves me forward as all the boys create circle around me, my eyes glinting with excitement as each of them start questioning me with the same excitement.

"Hi! I am Jimin, the 'wanted' one," his orange head wobbled as he smiled sideways, coming over for a side hug that I returned with gratitude. Jimin was a well-known racer in the industry with millions of fangirls behind him almost all the time.

I turn around squealing when I find a mint haired guy waving at me with his boxy smile, "KIM TAEHYUNG AND SUNSHINE HOBI!"

"Sunshine what-" He's startled by my sudden outburst, my face reddening as I second-hand embarrass myself.

"It's a name given by your fans..." I kick the floor, whispering in a faint voice.

Hoseok chuckles with Taehyung, removing the leather gloves covering their hand as they bring it forward to shake with mine.

"Call us Tae and Hobi, it's cute coming from your mouth," they gigglechildishly, warming my heart.

"Operation win Jungkook over is in the process!" Hoseok's fist pumps in the air as everyone starts discussing a perfect plan to make up for my foolish mistake.

"He likes sugar mallows." Suddenly behind me appears Min Yoongi and Seokjin, the oldest racers here. My heart suddenly jumps out as I stare at them holding a few boxes of cereal.

Taehyung scoots over, Jin and Yoongie sit over smiling at me as I return with a nod. "He likes those marshmallow cereals? Wow-" I am left speechless at his selection of food.

"Trust me, he will go head over heels for this." Jin squeals, winking towards Namjoon which leaves me questioning.

___________________♡____________________

I take a deep breath ready for war. It's about to strike midnight as I walk back to my shared room, glancing back and forth at the dark hallways waiting for some kind of jumpscare, breeze from open windows letting out a hollered noise that has my skin shivering. I quicken my pace, slamming the door behind me to see Jungkook standing in the balcony with the wind ruffling his hair as if praising him.

I stopped in my tracks when my eyes landed on his broad back with muscular shoulders that turned me on, my fingers wishing to grab onto them leaving a trail.

Peeking into the open box of cereal given by Jin I wholeheartedly pour in some milk, my heart leaping as I think of offering some to Jungkook.

With two bowls in my hand, I make my way to the open porch. Jungkook hangs his head between his shoulders, grasping the railing tight with visible veins running across his arm.

"Are you alright?" I whisper, mostly startling him as he lifts his head with an alarmed expression. "I bought vousome cereal?" With uncertainty I raise the bowl in thin air waiting for his eyes to pool with excitement, maybe he would be jumpy on his feet at the smell of sugary soggy cereal, but no. He didn't move an inch.

He just let out an exasperated sigh of defeat. "Go away," Jungkook mumbled slowly, looking away from my eyes.

"What's on your mind Jeon," I placed the bowl aside, trying to take a look at him from behind and for the first time I felt his huge bulky body standing tall beside me. He seemed so big and strong, the intimidating expression being a compliment to his looks. He looked even more beautiful at night.

"You don't have to share, just have this with me." I gesture over towards the milk-filled bowls with a pressed smile full of hopefulness.

"Fine." He harshly grabs a bowl scooting over to sit on the floor casually with his legs crossed. "But you can sit in the chair!" I exclaimed but he shook his head. "I like it here." He meekly said.I have no choice but to sit facing him, watching the beautiful view of California that left me breathless, it just seemed like a dream, but what felt even more surreal was the man sitting in front of me with his midnight black bangs covering his doe eyes, slurping the milky marshmallows with content.

"Feeling better?" I quietly ask. Earning a hum.

We sat there quietly with comforting silence, little squeals of pleasure and sugar kicking in our bodies. Raking our spoons in the milk scooping up the crunchies while playing with loops.

"How'd you know I like this?" He questioned.

"That will be my secret." I wryly smile, shoving the empty bowls at the back, making room for my feet to spread comfortably.

"You do know you just served me cereal in the middle of the night?" he whispered playfully.

"Think of it as a midnight snack." I wink."Jungkook...I am sorry." I breathe in, "I hurt people, that's what I am good at. Unfortunately." A bittersweet chuckle leaves my parted lips, guilt seeping in when I try forming words. "We didn't start on the right foot, why not try the left this time?"

Bringing my hand forward, I wait for Jungkook to shake it. Just give me a chance. We are just racers ready to come at each other's throats, But, Why not try to get along?

For once.

"I don't need a protector Jungkook, just a friend."

He brings his hand forward, hesitant when our warm skin grazes together, I feel him enveloping my hand in his, a wave of satisfaction gushing over me.

I never want to let his hand go. It feels safe and soft like a newborn. But they don't fit together perfectly.

We are two different people, with different views. Being friends witheach other is hard for us, hard to understand. No wonder they don't fit perfectly.

"Don't tell me you use baby lotion now," I smirk. He looks away, trying his best to hide the small curve rising atthe edge of his lips.

Maybe Jeon Jungkook knows how to smile after all.

He silently grabs the bowl behind me, stuffing his mouth with cereal and continuing to stare at me. Even in the dark, I could make out his droopy eyes, dark circles, that were carrying all the unexplainable tension he didn't share.

"Go to sleep, grinch, or would you like me cuddling you till you've fallen asleep," Nudging him with a teasing tone he smiles, a little toothy grin that fogged my brain.

He snorts, "You need therapy Y/n."

"Therapy is just paid gossip my boy."

I pat his head, going in for the ruffle when he swats it away, his facial features tensing with a line between his eyebrows."Tomorrow's the race. "

I stop in my tracks. Glancing back from my shoulder, This sudden unexplainable tension filled the air, my heavy breath visible.

What got me so nervous all of a sudden?

I start tapping my foot, fiddling with my nails, biting the inside of my cheek.

"And...?" I felt the back of my neck warm up, tiny beads of sweat sliding down my back.

He wouldn't do anything to hurt me tomorrow in the name of race? Would he?

Jungkook just sighed, standing tall, his dark silhouette walking towards me whilst I stood frozen. I feel his eyes staring into my soul, his hand slowly placed on my shoulder. I stiffen at the small strokes he skims on the sides of my neck.

Everywhere he touched my skin would burn with fire, hitching breath stuck atthe bottom of my throat. But my eyes clung to his illuminated skin under the moon.

He's beautiful...

Jungkook pulls me out of his trance with a throaty cough, pulling me closer as I squeak. "If they overtake your path then turn to the side and let them. Their desire to win is unquenched, and people do anything to satisfy their thirst."

"Don't come in their way, Y/n."

___________________♡____________________

Day3 | Day5

DM me or send an ask if you wanna be added to the taglist.

[papiliotao]

・❥・THE ELYSIAN PURSUITS OF ACADEMICS

♡ — Reader: GN

♡ — Characters: Albedo, Alhaitham, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Xiao

♡ — Synopsis: studying with him

♡ — Content: fluff, modern AU, school AU of some sort

♡ — A/N: I definitely didn't write this in an attempt to unwind after like three weeks straight of quizzes and tests. If you're currently suffering through school (or remember going through something similar), I hope this fic will help ease your pain! Also, if you like this please consider reblogging or commenting!

ALBEDO, who agrees to help you study without informing you that he has ulterior motives. While it is true that he wants to aid you in any way possible, a more selfish motive also lies concealed behind his gracious actions.

Lately an unfamiliar emotion has had a grip on him. It lingers, following him around, making its presence known through the uneven rhythm of his heartbeat and the way his cheeks haphazardly become rose-tinted. And while the feeling has haunted him throughout euphoric daydreams and sleepless nights alike, he finds that it is most potent when he is with you.

So now, he is sitting in the library with you, attempting to quell his curiosity and confirm his hypothesis by spending time with you to discover the catalyst for the unexplainable sentiments that plague his heart. As he glances down at his books, he notices that a thick fog fills his mind, permeating every corner of the space with tangible clouds of exhilaration. His eyes can't help but wander to you every once in a while. It almost as though there is a magnetic force drawing his aquamarine irises to you.

Whenever he is finally able to avert his stare, soft tufts of his ash-blonde hair fall and tickle his face, obscuring his view of you. However, out of a desire to seem inconspicuous, Albedo never moves to brush the strands of hair away, and one day, when you inevitably notice, you decide to help him.

A fleeting touch causes a cherry hue to dust his cheeks, and when you make eye contact with him, embarrassment overtakes Albedo. As he mutters a barely-audible "thanks" under his breath, Albedo comes to a conclusion.

He loves you.

ALHAITHAM, who is irrefutably genius yet one of the worst study partners. Ironically, his brilliance is ultimately the reason he is an ineffective tutor. Whenever he tries to explain anything to you, he uses complex terminology that sounds otherworldly, and he brings in concepts that are much too elaborate and obscure.

To some degree, Alhaitham enjoys seeing the clueless expression on your face as he uses his wits to concoct a verbose response to your questions, and when your features twist into a coalescence of confusion, he finds it oddly gratifying rather than irritating. It's endearing, and the way you attempt to keep up with his complicated explanations instead of giving up causes the slightest bit of emotion to slip through his logical front as his heart warms and a soft smile breaks loose on his face.

However, when pessimistic musings begin to spill from your lips into the air of the tranquil library, Alhaitham decides that perhaps it's finally time for him to try harder to accommodate you instead of maintaining his admittedly pretentious habits for his own amusement.

He knows that it's not your fault that you can't understand everything he says, so he doesn't see why you're criticizing yourself, but for you, he makes an effort to put your needs over his own leisure. Despite the fact that you can't see eye-to-eye, Alhaitham can still pick up on your feelings of insecurity and insufficiency, so he tries his best to slow down for you.

KAZUHA, who silently admires you as you chew on your bottom lip, allowing a groan of frustration to escape you as you exhale. To Kazuha, you look absolutely adorable. He suppresses the laughter threatening to bubble up and out of his chest, raising one of his hands to his mouth in order to conceal the tender smile blossoming on his face behind slender fingers. His ruby eyes feel permanently fixated on you as you mull over an assignment, and they sparkle with unspoken adoration with every move that you make.

He knows he should be studying, but he finds it impossible to concentrate on anything in your presence. You make his heart race erratically, and the utterance of his name from your lips whenever you need help penning down eloquently-conjured phrases sounds sweeter than the soft clinking of wind chimes in a gentle spring zephyr. 

Sometimes he longs to see the day where you finally catch him staring from across the table you're seated at, but you're always too focused on your work to notice anything off. So for now, he takes every opportunity he can to silently observe you, picking up on all your more subtle mannerisms.

And after each session of quiet hours spent in the library that pass far too slowly yet all too quickly at the same time, Kazuha takes your hand in his and walks you home, basking in the warm artificial glow of streetlights. Your bag is slung over his shoulder as the two of you stroll back to your house in the midst of a silent evening. The crisp evening air sends tingles down your spine, but Kazuha's comforting touch prevents you from shivering.

When you finally reach your destination, Kazuha says an earnest goodbye. Unbeknownst to you, he is already anticipating your next study date, walking away from your front door with a love-struck grin adorning his pretty face.

SCARAMOUCHE, who calls you an idiot for the fifth time in the span of an hour. The words leave his mouth with ease, as if insulting people is second nature to him. And perhaps it is, because whenever he helps you study, he can’t help but spout harsh fallacies whenever you get a question wrong, reprimanding you for your lack of understanding.

Although his words are rather cruel, you aren’t in a position to refuse Scaramouche’s assistance. When he’s not busy badmouthing you, the indigo-eyed boy is actually capable of offering valuable feedback. 

Besides, there are times where he actually shows some semblance of care for you. On days where you overwork yourself, Scaramouche never fails to find a way to discreetly complain about how long you’ve been studying, effectively forcing you to take a break. He likes to pretend that he’s doing it for his own sake, but deep down, he’s really just trying to look out for you.

If only you knew the full extent of his affections toward you. Every touch of your soft hands to his as you hand him your pen makes his heart flutter, and each "thank you" that falls from your lips causes a pale sunset blush to dust his fair cheeks. Perhaps one day, you will realize that all the brutal insults he sends your way are all made in a desperate attempt to conceal his overwhelming feelings for you.

XIAO, who feels his heart seize up each time he leans closer to you to get a better look at the homework causing you an unspeakable amount of grief. When he talks to you to answers your questions, his voice noticeably softens, and when you turn to him to thank him for helping you, he immediately averts his sunlit gaze.

He buries himself in piles of textbooks to distract himself from the perplexing butterflies settling in the pit of his stomach. However, whenever you call his name to ask for his assistance, his attention immediately snaps back to you.

He's surprisingly patient while teaching you. Although he's rather strict, his methods are effective, and he is completely honest with you if he believes you need to work on something. Xiao can't help but feel a twinge of guilt whenever your face falls as you get a question wrong. However, he knows that being truthful is the best way to aid you in fixing your mistakes.

And when all is said and done, Xiao finds that the way you smile with satisfaction evident in your features upon figuring a difficult concept out is the greatest reward he could ever ask for. The grin that adorns your face is woven from the stuff of dreams, and he hopes he will have the privilege of seeing for the rest of his life.

I don't really like the way I ended Albedo's (sorry), but I was too sleep-deprived to think of anything else :( Anywayyyy, have a lovely day!