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cinderella-ish · 8 months ago

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For the Fruits Basket asks: 2, 3, 19, and 18/20 for Momiji!

Oh, yay! I'm so glad you asked! (ask game here)

2. This might be the hardest question of all, because all the characters are so richly developed and I genuinely like (almost) all of them! I have a certain soft spot for Yuki and Momiji, of course, as the characters I relate to the most, and a similar soft spot for Ayame and Arisa, because I relate to them in a way as well, though to a lesser degree.

I've been writing a lot of Kyo, Saki, and (weirdly) Hiroshi, so I feel really attached to them right now. I mean, Kyo is a character whose happiness genuinely healed me. Saki's unapologetic weirdness is just the best (and uhhh my friend group in high school had a few people who shared several traits with Saki, so I was bound to like her). And Hiroshi and Yusuke are literally the best part of every scene they're in. (Especially Hiroshi in Cinderella-ish. Seriously, his narration is top tier!)

And Machi and Kakeru have a special place in my heart, too, partly because of their roles in Yuki's development, but also because of the ways I relate to each of them. And, of course, Tohru. I mean, there's so much to say about her, but her deep, deep empathy and the richness of her arc and development are just gorgeous.

I do keep coming back to Yuki and Momiji, though. They're central to two of the scenes that I found most surprisingly powerful; Yuki when he tells Kakeru "that isn't what I want!" and Momiji in his speech to Akito, when he says "a happiness might exist for me!" Outside of the major plot points of the series (which are nearly all centered around Tohru and Kyo), these two moments are, I think, some of the most satisfying developments for any of the characters, period.

(Oops, that turned into an essay 😅)

3. If we're sticking to named characters, I think Katsuya is the only choice. I know Takaya couldn't develop every single character in the series, but Katsuya is one whose development would have enriched not only him, but Kyoko, Tohru, and Grandpa Honda as well.

I think that the Katsuya-Kyoko relationship can be read as problematic and even predatory exactly as written. It reads as romanticized because it's told from Kyoko's point of view. But Katsuya himself remains kind of an enigma, and it's just really hard to like him when we don't even know what made him think pursuing a middle schooler was okay.

19. Oh gosh. You're going to get a few long answers, I fear. 😅

I have several favorite fanworks! Off the top of my head:

Ripples, by @proseprincess

So, canon divergent AUs are probably my favorite type of fic, and I especially love fics where one canon event changes, and everything that follows changes due to something like a butterfly effect. In this two-part series, Tohru never met Kureno in the park, which changes everything that came after in a big way. I love that this tackles some massive changes to canon, yet they all feel grounded in the world and characters we all know. The second installment is incomplete, but still very worth the read IMO, not only because part 1 ends with a massive cliffhanger, but because it's just so inventive and unlike anything else I've read. Maybe my very favorite fanwork.

I'll be Standing There By You, by Eboni_A

This is a beautiful, devastating AU told from Yuki's point of view where he finds out in the final weeks of her life that Tohru has terminal cancer. We see Yuki drop everything to come and support Kyo and be with Tohru in her final weeks, we see Tohru die, and we see Kyo and Yuki (and everyone else) try to keep going afterward. It's heartbreaking yet hopeful, and the author made relatively recent comments about a potential sequel! Fingers crossed!

Inertia, by miss_coverly @lesbian-kyoru

This is another canon divergent AU where Kyo and Tohru become friends with benefits before the curse breaks. It's honestly shocking how beautiful this work is. The prose is gorgeous, the angst is dialed all the way up, the sexual tension is dialed even higher, the characterization is crystal clear, it's honestly a masterclass in POV, the sex is sexy, and I could go on and on. I never thought a blowjob scene would make me cry, yet it did.

The Pursuit of Repeating History, by RiddleAfar @mistergrass

So, when I first started reading fanfiction, I stuck strictly with canon-compliant works. Then, I dipped my toes into canon divergence AUs like those above, but I heavily resisted reading anything with alternative pairings.

Then, I got curious about that one really popular Yuki/Kyo soulmates AU fic, and gave it a read. By the end of the first chapter, I couldn't put it down. And when I was finished reading, I knew I had to check out everything else by that author, which is how I ended up reading The Pursuit of Repeating History.

This story honestly showed me the power of fanfiction. The author legit crafted lore for the Fruits Basket universe. And the "lore" chapters (I think they're referred to as "intermissions") are each beautifully-told stories in their own right. But the author also grappled with how the curse might work, and I think they did an incredible job. I'm actually rereading this beast right now!

We'll Work it Out Together, by inheritanceofgeek @mrsmarymorstan

Okay, I'm a sucker for anything with lots of Hiroshi and Yusuke, and this story is probably the most Hiroshi-and-Yusuke-focused story on Ao3. (Probably worth mentioning the author's sideblog, @2d-iendfrays which is an absolute treasure!) In it, Kyo figures out he's asexual, then figures out he's demisexual, all with the help of his two wholesome buds.

Like almost all the authors on this list, inheritanceofgeek has some other really fantastic works that are worth checking out, from sexual humor to Yuki/Machi smut to a touching piece about new parenthood.

How Can I Thank You, by SharkFairy77

Another brilliant Yuki/Kyo piece, in which Yuki hosts Kakeru and Komaki for dinner (at the apartment he shares with Kyo), and at the last minute, Kakeru asks if Machi can come. (Machi is Yuki's ex in this universe)

The piece starts with dinner prep, and then dinner, and the character writing is just incredibly spot on. I loved the arc of the story through the dinner, and the way Kyo and Machi come to an understanding.

But then, we get into some A+ YukiKyo smut.

I'll Be Here, by Blanche2023 @biancanekoyokai

(Full disclosure - I beta read this work!)

This is a very sweet and sad piece about Kyo's first few days in Kazuma's care after his mother's death. Blanche's characterization is outstanding, and she handles tricky things (like writing a young Akito who's also performing head-of-the-family duties) in a really clever way.

I don't think there's enough pre-canon fic out there, nor enough gen fic, and this piece is just beautiful.

Escaping the future, by Modzy78

I really love the way Modzy78 thinks about the Fruits Basket universe, and her take on the canon-divergence of "what if Tohru never confessed to Kyo" is inventive, suspenseful, fluffy, and just such a fun read! I also really love her other canon divergent AU Cursing the Cursed. And Modzy78 is honestly a superhero for the fandom.

The Talk, by Geoduck @drgeoduck

Honestly, Geoduck has a ton of works you should read, but I'll mention this one because it's probably the funniest thing I've ever read. And then it somehow gets even funnier!

The Ones Who Walk Away From Sohma House, also by Geoduck

If you're a fan of Ursula K. Leguin (my very favorite author!), then you are probably familiar with her famous short story, The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas, and this short fic is an absolute must-read.

no one is lost, by emphasis

Momiji bumps into Ritsu in a gay bar. Not a pairing I ever imagined, but an excellent fic that puts Momiji in the position of "elder queer" to Ritsu. (Honestly, I wish there were more Momiji-as-elder-queer fics!)

Some other favorites:

The Night We Met, by pettyimperfections

Hold On, by Danyu

Heart Strain, by Kitty0430

I think about you all the time, by lucybeee @riceballcatfb (incomplete)

Making Nice, by Itsalreadyhalloweenright @riza-rin-rose (incomplete)

What's a White Lie Between Friends (& My Family)? by AnxietyAvocado

My Hands on You is Just a Fantasy, by unscheduledmakeouts

This Air is Blessed, by KyoDoodles

Please, Let Her Live, by @goldfishoflove

And that isn't even touching the dozens of phenomenal Yukeru fics! Just a small selection of Yukeru favorites:

fit back in, by @luftballons99

woebegone, by a-bigail @yunsoh

The Other Side of Paradise, by reconquer @yukisohmasmokesweed

If I Ever Feel Better, also by reconquer

if i do anything i regret tonight, no i didn't, by sacrificialParsnip (another fic where Momiji is an elder queer!)

i wanna be dyed with your colors, by halfhope

Like Fireworks in the Night Sky, by Princely_Hairdos (incomplete, currently being updated!)

President Perfect, by draebelle

tongue tied, by b_o_i (note: heed the warnings!)

And if you're familiar with OnigiriCat4Ever's canon continuation series, Always and Forever, some of my favorite works from that series include My Brother, Truth and Consequences, You Don't Understand, I Want to Understand, and all of their smut (collected in a separate series called Tohru and Kyo's Amorous Adventures, plus one explicit Hajime/Mutsuki fic).

And, of course, I'm really proud of my longfic, Bloom Within Us, and wrote it because it's the sort of thing I'd want to read. It's currently in progress, and I took a break from writing due to a family emergency, but I'm back at it and hope to start regular posting within a month.

uhhhh so I think I'll have to make my Momiji headcanons another post (hopefully tomorrow) because this got long! 😅 Thank you again for asking!

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breella · 1 year ago

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Secrets

A/N: This was originally part of a series I was writing but I wasn't happy with how the first part came out so I decided to post this part. Background info that is missing due to not posting the first part: y/n is Rhys' sister. She was under the mountain with him. Her and Eris met each other under the mountain and a mating bond snapped in place for them. They knew it wasn't safe to accept it there so they his it from everyone including Rhys. This takes place after the war with Hybern.

Also this is my first time writing anything other than essays in over 10 years. Sorry for any mistakes I haven't edited yet. I know if I don't post it now I won't. lol

You were sitting at the dinner table in the house of wind with your family when you heard Eris’s voice come through the bond. “I need to see you” he said. His voice had an edge to it that you hadn’t heard before. Annoyed by the interruption you sighed.

“Everything okay?” Cassian asked as he bumped your shoulder with his own.

“Huh? Yeah I’m fine. Sorry I was just thinking about the amount of paperwork I have piled on my desk.” You replied. You saw Rhys studying you from the corner of you eye but ignored him. You didn’t feel like dealing with your overprotective big brother right now.

“Y/n please talk to me.” Eris said in your mind. His tone almost made you want to give in. It had been three weeks since you last saw him. The two of you had a big fight. He still wasn’t ready to accept the bond. He said it would never be safe for you as long as Beron was alive. You had told him you were done waiting and that you weren’t afraid of Beron. You pleaded with him to allow you to accept the bond so that the two of you didn’t have to hide anymore and could finally be together. Things escalated into yelling, both of you saying things you didn’t mean. At the end you told him you were done. You said you would reject the bond. “Fine” was all he said as you walked away. He didn’t follow you.

“I’m busy, Eris.” You sent back. Your heart was still broken. You didn’t mean what you said about rejecting the bond. You knew deep down he didn’t mean the things he said to you that night. You just couldn't understand why he didn’t want to accept the mating bond. Did he not love you? Was he embarrassed of you?

“Meet me tonight y/n. I need to see you. It’s been too long.” He said.

“I can’t keep doing this. It hurts too much.” You let more emotion come through in your reply than you intended. You wanted him to think you were okay without him. You wanted him to believe that you didn’t need him.

“I never intended to hurt you. Meet me in our usual spot and we can talk about things.”

“Fine. I’ll be there at midnight.” You replied and slammed your mental shields down. You knew you shouldn’t have given in that easily. This meeting was going to end in 1 of 2 ways. Either you would end up arguing again and you would leave more heart broken than you already were, or he would give you the same excuses as always and the two of you would spend the night with him inside of you and leave in the morning without talking about anything.

“Are you coming with us y/n” you were pulled out of your thoughts by Mor’s question. You hadn’t heard the conversation, but you knew enough about your friends to assume they were going to Rita’s on a Saturday night.

“Not tonight. I have something I need to take care of.” You faked a smile at her.

“Oh, come on. You haven’t been out with us in ages. We will have so much fun.”

“Next time” was your only reply as you got up and walked into the kitchen to empty your plate. You needed time to gather your thoughts. You poured yourself a glass of wine and leaned against the counter sighing. It wasn’t long before you heard footsteps entering the kitchen. You turned and met the stare of your brother. “I should have known you would follow me in here.”

“What’s wrong?” Concern laced through his features.

“You worry too much.” You laughed.

“You haven’t been yourself lately.” Rhys replied.

“I’m fine, I promise.” You lied. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell Rhys or any of the rest of your family the truth. You knew you would have to tell them one day, but right now you had enough to deal with. Once Eris was ready, if he ever was, you would work out how and when to tell them. For now, you didn’t want them to worry. You knew once they found out Eris was your mate, they would try to keep you away from him. They would try to convince you not to accept the bond. They didn’t know him in the way you did. No one truly knew him like you did. You were the only person he let see the real him. He had saved you under the mountain, and no matter what happened between the 2 of you now you would forever be grateful for that.

12:01 am. You spent the last hour debating on backing out. Your heart couldn’t handle much more. You felt a pull on that invisible string forever tying the two of you together. You knew he was waiting. You hoped he was as nervous as you were. You took one last look in the mirror. You had changed out of the dress you were wearing and into a pair of black leggings and cream-colored oversized sweater. You left your hair down because you knew he loved it that way. You also had applied some deep red lipstick because you knew it drove it mad. You knew you looked good but the casual clothing you opted for made it seem as if you weren’t trying too hard to impress him. Satisfied by your looks you decided you were as ready as you were ever going to be. You winnowed directly into the cabin hidden deep inside the autumn forest.

“Hello beautiful.” Eris smirked at you.

#eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #acotar #rhys #eris

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asahicore · 2 years ago

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espresso macchiato - sjh

part 1 of the coffee mini-series // prompt 72 of the 100 kisses list, accidentally bumping noses

pairing. coworker!junghwan x fem!reader

synopsis. It’d only been a month since Junghwan had started to work with you at the coffee shop, but your crush on him was already threatening to make itself known. It took a broken espresso machine and a cute accident for you to find out that these feelings might not be one-sided.

genre. winter au, coffee shop au, fluff with a side of fluff and extra fluff, noona!reader (just one-year age gap tho)

word count. 2.2k

a/n. i said two seconds ago that i would post this tomorrow but i already changed my mind. i had so so much fun writing this so i hope you will too while reading! i tried to make it as cute as possible... just cute cute cute... super excited to write the rest of the series. no promises but i'll try to do like a double update next weekend with part 2 of this and part 2 of hey heeseung !! ok i know nobody reads these but as always lmk what u think pls and thank u bye bye <3

winter.

You should’ve known that nothing good could come out of having such a cute coworker as So Junghwan.

The moment he’d stepped into the coffee shop, announcing himself with a big smile as the new barista, you had to keep yourself from freaking out. Somehow, all the ugly things that came with being a barista hadn’t tarnished your dream for a coffee shop romance. No amount of spilled coffee and rude customers could stop you from wishing a handsome guy would stride in and sweep you off your feet.

But now that said handsome guy had finally strode in, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. Because it wasn’t enough for the handsome guy to just be handsome, he also had to be charming, and kind, and funny. And tall. Very, very tall. If at first his face alone had been enough to destabilize you, soon, it was his contagious boyish grin, the sound of his laughter, the way his hands worked the machines that made your heart beat faster than it should. You’d even started to like the fact that he called you noona - at first, you chided him for it, arguing that you were barely a year older than him, but he insisted, and you didn’t have a choice but to get used to it.

As with most bad things in your life, you blamed your manager. Got a cold? The manager insisted on turning the heating all the way up this winter, and your body has gone into shock every time you’ve had to go back into the cold outside. Missed a deadline? The manager asked you to take over someone else’s shift that one day you had planned on writing your essay after procrastinating for two weeks. Liked the new barista? The manager made you responsible for his training, because “you’ve been here for so long” (two years) and “you’re one of our best” (ten time employee of the month, thank you very much) and “you have the most overlapping shifts with him, anyway.” No problem, boss. No problem at all, you’d said, and you had meant it, until Junghwan walked right from your dreams and into the coffee shop on a bright morning in early December.

The first few weeks, it was easy to lie to yourself that it was just due to Junghwan being practically perfect that you felt like this - anyone with eyes and an attraction to men would react the same way. Or so you thought, until you talked to your coworker-turned-bestie, Jayoon.

“I don’t know, I think he’s kinda dorky.” Your friend had simply shrugged when you asked her about the newbie. You’d been trying to be as nonchalant as possible, but your interest in him was obvious. But then she’d seen your appalled expression, and tried to backtrack slightly. “I mean, super nice and all, just not my style. He’s all yours,” she’d added with a wink.

You realized you had a proper crush on him when a customer wrote her number on the receipt and left it for him, and the jealousy you felt upon seeing the slight blush that spread across his cheeks was too much to ignore. Something you had noticed about Junghwan after a month of working with him was that he could dish it but not take it. When it came to grabbing something you couldn’t reach from the top shelf for you, telling you your hair looked cute that day, or making a little heart on top of the latte you desperately needed when you worked the opening shift together, he was a pro - but if you so much as called him cute or patted his head, the boy became a stammering and blushing mess, akin to the clueless female lead of a high school romance anime.

Seeing someone else have that effect on him was no fun. You wanted to run after the girl and lecture her about disturbing coffee shop employees when they’re trying to do their job, but you knew you just wished you had as much guts as her to shoot your shot with Junghwan.

“Look, noona, a girl gave me her number,” he said, gloating and holding the small piece of paper for you to see, when a random two p.m. rush had subsided. “She even drew a heart.”

You scoffed, turning away and pretending to be busy rearranging the syrup shelf so he wouldn’t see the glare in your eyes. “You look so happy,” you commented moodily. Great job hiding your crush, Y/N, you thought.

“It is pretty flattering.”

You turned your head to look at him. He’d taken a few steps closer to you and was now resting his back against the counter, palms flat on the surface behind him to hold him up. His smile had gotten even wider, that idiot. You squinted your eyes at him. “So, are you gonna call her? Or text her?”

“No,” he’d answered right away, and the lack of hesitation took you by surprise. “There’s someone else I like.”

The words had already made your breath hitch in your throat - but as if he was intent on killing you, Junghwan started walking right towards you, only stopping when he was towering over your shorter frame. He crumbled the receipt in his hands and threw it in the trash can that you happened to be standing in front of, his eyes never once leaving yours. He beamed down at you, that familiar, puppyish grin that lights up his whole face, and, as if nothing happened, walked to the register to take the order of a customer that had just arrived.

It took at least a full minute for your breathing to return to normal.

Junghwan was a quick learner. He mastered the espresso machine and latte art in record time, remembered recipes to specialty drinks easily, and didn’t panic when someone ordered something he’d never made before. He also wasn’t scared to ask for help, and you’d soon grown used to his questions, tone ranging from simply curious to downright alarmed. Noona, do I add cocoa powder on top of a cappuccino? Noona, what’s the difference between a regular latte and a latte macchiato? Noona, why the hell does this person want their chai to be dirty?!

So when he called out, Noona, I think the machine’s broken, you hadn’t thought anything of it at first. Luckily, it was reaching closing time, and not many people came for a caffeine fix at seven in the evening, so you could easily deal with the machine.

You headed to where Junghwan was crouching, glaring at the espresso machine as if that would magically fix it. You shook your head at him with a chuckle and told him to scooch over. Either in an attempt to tease you, or because he genuinely wanted to know how to repair it, Junghwan followed your every move, very, very closely. He stood and bent over the machine along with you, checked the water and coffee bean levels along with you, made sure the tubes were properly cleaned along with you. But in the end, it was just that the tube that poured the espresso had come somewhat loose, and so the machine beeped in warning every time one tried to make coffee.

“Look, it’s no big deal, just that the tube came loo- Oh!”

Junghwan had been looking at you as you explained the problem, but the two of you were crouching in front of the counter, so close together that when you turned your head to look at him, your noses had bumped into each other. You’d both leaned back in surprise at the same time, eyes widening and heat spreading to both of your faces as you peered at each other, astonished. But then, Junghwan’s face broke into a grin, and a chuckle escaped his lips, then another one. You burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, the fact that you had to keep quiet because of the few remaining customers in the shop making it even harder to stop giggling.

When after a few minutes, you managed to regain your senses, a wave of shyness hit you - even if for just a split second, you had been close enough to Junghwan for your noses to touch, even, perhaps, for your lips to touch. And thinking about kissing Junghwan was not good for your heart.

A silence settled between the two of you, and you were thankful for the music playing softly and the chatter of the customers that filled the otherwise quiet coffee shop. You could barely look at Junghwan anymore and found him quickly averting his gaze as well every time you dared a glance at him, as if the same realization had hit him.

Fifteen minutes later and you could finally close. You and Junghwan said “bye” to the last customers, then started cleaning the store and preparing it for tomorrow’s first shifters in unusual silence - normally, you’d spend an hour joking around, chasing the other with a mop or spraying water on the other’s face, but today, not a peep could be heard from either of you. You didn’t know what to make of it, but at least, it meant you were done half an hour earlier than usual.

Shivering, Junghwan watched as you hurriedly locked the doors to the coffee shop, wanting to put your gloves on as quickly as possible. It was so warm and toasty inside that stepping outside was like being pushed into a bath of ice water. You were about to start walking to the bus stop, as you always did with Junghwan after the closing shift, but he stopped you.

“Noona, your scarf.” He stepped in front of you and reached out to tighten your scarf, even though it was already snug around your neck. Immediately recalling the proximity you’d been in not even an hour earlier, all you could do was look up at him, mouth slightly agape in surprise. When his eyes met yours, a small grin bloomed on his lips. He kept his hands on your scarf, holding gently there.

“What’s wrong with it?” you asked in a quiet voice, looking down at your scarf so Junghwan couldn’t see your flustered reaction - but something prompted you to meet his eyes once more.

His grin got wider and unconsciously, you started smiling too. “Nothing,” he admitted, then finally let go of your scarf, and you released a breath at the same time. You followed as he started walking towards the bus stop, hanging your head low so he couldn’t see the smile on your lips. Just like you, his hands were buried in his coat pockets, but you were itching to reach out and grab one of them. You couldn’t stop wondering what his reaction would be.

Then, he sighed contentedly. When you looked up at him, he was smiling too, looking straight ahead of him. The cold had already bit at his cheeks and nose, staining them bright red, and there were slowly melting snowflakes covering his hair. You thought he’d never looked so handsome. It was almost painful, tearing your gaze away from his face.

“It’s so cold, you can see your breath,” he suddenly said, and you laughed. Not because what he’d said was particularly funny or interesting, but because it was such a relief, hearing his voice after long minutes of silence.

“Yeah,” you simply replied, giggling when your gazes met for a brief moment.

When you reached the bus stop, you sat down on the bench while he stood, tracing figures in the snow with his foot. Your heart swelled ten times its size and you couldn’t stop smiling as he wrote your initial, a plus sign and his initial, then encircled them in a heart. You shook your head at him but it made you unreasonably happy.

“Too cheesy?” he asked, smiling so wide that the corners of his eyes crinkled.

“No, I love it,” you replied, giggling, but you meant it.

He sat down next to you, kicking your shoe with his, and you both giggled at nothing. Too soon, his bus came.

“Noona?” he called out as he stood up, walking towards the bus door. You said nothing but raised your head, waiting for him to go on. “You know how I said there’s someone I like?”

This time, you said nothing because you couldn’t speak. Your heart stopped beating, anticipating his next words. You meekly nodded.

The bus doors opened and he slipped inside, turning back to look at you, that boyish grin you love so much still on his lips.

“It’s you.”

The doors closed and Junghwan headed to a window seat, waving happily at you as the bus took him away, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on you.

When your shock faded, all that was left was happiness. Junghwan’s sudden confession filled you with a warm, honey-like feeling that settled comfortably in your heart, in your bones, everywhere. The cold January air couldn’t cool you down.

You didn’t stop smiling for a second the whole way home, and you’d never been so excited for your next shift.

permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 (ask to be removed/added!) © asahicore on tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

#yg treasure #so junghwan #treasure x reader #junghwan x reader #treasure fluff #junghwan fluff #treasure scenarios #junghwan scenarios #treasure imagines #junghwan imagines #treasure fanfic #junghwan fanfic

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noomycatz · 4 months ago

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hello I am ✨the government✨, and you are legally required to loredump about your fallout ocs now /j /silly /pos

(I love reading loredumps lol)

YOU WONT CATCH ME THIS TIME GOVERNMENT!!!!

Ok my lawyer said i have to. :(

You already know Argo but i dont have much for him yet. He likes rubber ducks i bet

I have one tangentially related to fallout, but not really. His name is Vep!

Yea uh. Dont ask. Also insultron ^^ he is veps securitron!! Vep repaired him to the best of abilities (HE DOESNT HAVE A BONER ARM PEOPLE KEPT TELLING ME HE DID DTOP STOP STOP) since Vep is a pacifist, he retired him to like, make fun of people instead of exploding them. I have a lot of troller ocs ngl.. (like 2. that’s not a lot noomy, shut the fuck u) please dont ask me why hes a deer/leopard just go with it

This is my courier 6, aka courier pickle. They’re really fucked up in the head!! And also really gay for robots. I, i mean they, they have a problem. Yeah. Not me

They dont have anything up OR down there!

After getting shot in the head by Bitchass Benny, they ran straight to the strip, tortured him and then dragged him over to the legion to get him crucified where they promptly joined. They had fun times!

Until they found yes man >:P

They betrayed caesar (oh no how could you! Die.) while preparing for the soon to be battle, they stumbled upon the think tanks satellite !

Everything went downhill for our so called hero there :3

(I havent played honest hearts or lonesome road yet and i really dont care for the,.m…. So they are not ap art of the lore. I said so. Joshua graham can lick my metaphysical balls)

whered it go pickle! whered it go! haha! the think tank took it and replaced it with a bunch of mentat tins so now youre addicted sorry. and now they’re going to poke you and prod you and make you run tasks. they have your brain still. Mobius never had it, and you killed him anyway. How could you? How could you? Why did you do it? Why did you do it?

They think radroaches are neat. Cute little buggers!

When they came back to the strip not one recognized them at first, and I wouldn’t blame them. They didn’t even act like themselves!

While yes man continued to bug them about the battle they just kept drowning themselves in chems and alcohol (robotic) prostitutes until they were sore and numb to this cruel world. The wasteland will eat you alive. From the outside and inside. Dust in your lungs sands engrained in the palms of your hands. Nobody is there for you. Nobody.

And then the battle came. They surrendered, wanting to make peace, wanting to exchange their life for whatever they still considered “friends.”

Lanius lied. Lanius took them prisoner and yet, still called for no mercy.

They took the dam. The securitron army was destroyed, the NCR drove out, Yes Man killed, and the Courier was due to be crucified.

But they ran. They ran and ran and ran

(and they ran… I ran so far away…)

They temporarily stayed at Big MT, for one making an attempt to revive yes man using the mark 5 securitrons, but it failed horribly!! And also they ate all the Mentats to the think tank kicked them out.

after a month of paranoid traveling they managed to reach boston! !! !

there they met the sole survivor ( @bl4z33467 ‘s oc!!!) and thyey settled down for no more trouble from the legion ever! definitely. ok i hope you enjoy reading. im not too good at writing stuff like this, give me an argumentative essay and a few weeks any day

^^ video also by Blaze (although the last part was drawn by yours trulyyyy(

#pickle

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fachefaucheux · 2 months ago

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WriteFest! // Days 2&3 + Thoughts on Moving Forward

Well...things are certainly...going.

I'm currently (well, as of yesterday) on track to finish on time, with 17,161 words written. That's a cool 116 words ahead of the minimum! And we're moving into the first weekdays of the challenge, where I expect things to get substantially more difficult, owing to me having to be, like, a functional human instead of a chaos gremlin hunched over a keyboard most of the day.

But one thing I'm hoping will keep me on track/keep me motivated to slap down another 3-4k after a day spent at the dissertation grind is that I'm now in uncharted territory. After I put down my Morning 1k (a habit I try to do no matter what, writing for 30 minutes before doing any other work/chores to ensure that I always write SOMETHING, even if the rest of the day doesn't go great), I'll be past where my first draft of Canticle ended. We're on to the final third of the book, where all the plot threads from the previous, uh, 60 chapters finally start to get tied together.

I have a basic idea of where things are headed. But the finer details -- the exact scenes, the moments of people being both big dumb idiots and tenderhearted weirdos -- are unknown. Which is a great thing! I work better in the unknown! Honestly, the last couple of of chapters of Canticle, where I've mostly been fixing style issues and condensing/reframing rather than covering new ground like I needed to do earlier in the revisions, have been a real slog because the plot's all there. The main conversations, the silly jokes, the odd observations. And writing scenes where I know exactly what's going to happen is, to me, incredibly, incredibly dull.

Popular advice is to outline thoroughly, especially for a story like Canticle that has a gorillion spinning plates. But it's just never worked for me, either in fiction or academic writing. I was the kid who wrote the essay first, then wrote the outline afterward because it was required to complete the assignment. The one who had to fumble through conferences with professors about upcoming projects with vague platitudes because what the essay's actually going to look like is still a black box to me, a week out from the due date.

That doesn't mean that I don't work on anything before then! Not at all. Before I sit down to write -- both for my day job as a historian-ish-thing and as a peddler of gay shenanigans -- I'm constantly thinking about what could happen. While doing the dishes, while on walks, when I should be paying attention to meetings. I'm reading. I'm researching. But the structure of what I want to write, the precise beats and references, never gets addressed before I sit down at the keyboard.

My best ideas come from launching into something half-blind and just seeing where it goes. Putting my weirdos all in a room with the right accessories and seeing how they decide to deal with one another. And when I'm running half-blind like this, I also tend to get on a roll more often. The words aren't so hard to come by. This process of mine does kinda end up generating a lot of editing work for Future Me to deal with afterward, but the moments of clarity, the unexpected jokes and softness, are ultimately worth it.

Anyway! Enough blathering! Time to get those words! Good luck to everyone else who's doing a writing challenge this month, and I'll see you later on in the week for another update!

#writing #writeblr #novel writing #ao3 writer #royal road #mm romance #writers on tumblr #writefest #4thewords #writing challenge #november writing challenge

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mariathechosen1 · 2 years ago

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Queer participation and representation in fanfiction: An update

Hello!

Some people might be aware of the fact that last week I posted a survey I was doing as part of research project for a Norwegian research competition. I was expecting about 50-80 answers, but instead got about 8300…this is a lot of answers. For quite some time this was more ‘Maria’s silly little fanfiction project’ and so, due to the nature of the competition and the expected sample size, official university requirements weren’t prioritized. Since then, me and my research supervisor have been in contact with the university organizing the competition to ask them “What the hell do we do?” and after much discussion we’ve decided to redo the study.

The survey itself can be found here: https://forms.gle/Tcoafs9dU627PNcn8

Update: The survey is now closed!

FAQ:

‘What does this mean?’

The main differences are that we’ve had to remove the two questions asking the survey taker about their gender identity and sexuality as these are considered to be sensitive information. We’ve also decided that to participate in the current study, you have to be over 16 and we’ve changed the requirements so that this study is only for queer individuals. There’s an added ‘terms and conditions’ page that one must consent to before taking the survey to confirm this.

‘I participated in the past study, what happens to my answer?’

Any past data from the former survey will be deleted. I know that some people might be a little frustrated over this (A big thank you to all those who wrote 800 word essays in the original survey), but the past data would simply not be valid. I apologize for any inconvenience this might have caused, but that’s what we’ve been recommended to do. If you want, you send in a new answer to the updated study.

‘I didn’t participate in the past study, can I still answer?’

Yes! Anyone who is 1) queer, 2) over 16 years old, and 3) familiar with fanfiction, whether that be through reading or writing it, can participate in the new study.

‘Why didn’t the original survey follow these new criteria?’

The simple answer is that getting 50 answers is very different from getting 8000. Getting this much engagement made us realize that this was actually a topic that a lot (and I mean A LOT) of people are engaged about. The research competition is, for the most part, designed to introduce younger students to proper research and study methods, and so requirements weren’t as strict as they would be for a scientist with years of experience. Now that we’ve realized the potential of this study, though, we’ve decided to try and conduct it befittingly.

If it weren’t for the fact that the competition deadline is in April, we probably would have applied for special permission to ask more specific questions about sexuality and gender, but alas.

‘Will I be able to read the project after it’s done?’/’Will you post the survey results?’

This is still under consideration, but if the project does manage to win the competition, the organizers will publish it on their website. If it doesn’t, we will most likely decide to publish it on our own. I also feel it’s relevant to mention that even though it’s slightly frustrating to have to do the survey all over again, the positive side is that after many emails with the organizing university, they’ve gotten very interested in this project and has, along with us, realized that the potential for fan studies is a lot bigger than what one might have thought. The future is still unknown, but they have inquired about doing something more with the research in the future, so who knows?

‘I have a different question about the survey questions/project/research.’

If (and this is a big if) you have a casual question or inquiry about any of the survey questions or the project details, you can send me either a message or an ask (Though I would prefer a message). I get that some people feel a little awkward sending a full email if they have a small informal question about how something is phrased, for example, but please send any serious questions about methodology, data privacy or our qualifications to the study’s research supervisor. Preferably in a respectful manner.

#queerficsurvey

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gutwrenchflowerbomb · 7 months ago

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This post is just me sort of rambling about the thoughts surrounding my new job so feel free to scroll past.

New workspace. This machine was installed a few weeks ago and a few of use were trained in it but I am the primary operator. They haven’t installed my work table yet so I’ve been using that cart. I’m two months into the drastic change in careers and it’s been strange - not just the obvious difference in what I’m actually doing but the shift as well. I don’t have weird start and ends times that change daily. But my set shift begins at 5am, meaning that I’m waking up at 3:30am. That’s the middle of the witching hour. I keep expecting to sit up and see some kind of demon ghost thing looking shocked like “the fuck you doing awake?”

But I’m less stressed, I think. I miss my clients dearly but now I no longer have to be responsible for the lives of 12 people. I can actually focus on myself. And the fact that I can do this job while wearing headphones has allowed me to catch up on podcasts and shit I’d long abandoned due to lack of time/energy. I’ve even made it a goal to listen to at least one new album a day from an artist I like but only know a song or two. I have 10 hours a day to fill so it’s not that hard to do. (I’m open to suggestions btw so if you have a fav band/album you think more people should hear, let me know! I don’t really *hate* any genre, except 90% of the new bro country shit)

My medical insurance kicks in on July 1st, so I can finally go to the doctor and dentist. They’ve had some overtime available that I’ve taken advantage of, and will continue to do so as long as it’s there. Mostly because I need all the money I can get and also - I don’t mind the work. It feels good to be physically doing stuff. I’m not like, building houses or anything but there I’m for sure getting more movement than I was previously. The ONLY downside so far of this job is that it’s very hard to regulate the temperature. I’ve had to buy my own fan to bring in and honestly I’m about to get a second one so I can have it blowing on my from both sides. Ya girl STAYS hot.

I’ve been staying with my mom and it’s been rough. We don’t have the most loving relationship, she gets on my goddamn nerves but I try not to get to frustrated with her because it will only make things worse. Maybe one day I’ll write some essays about it, as my upbringing with her was anything but “normal” but I digress.

The most challenging thing has been the lack of *silence* in the house. Before, I had my roommates. Ut they were hardly home when I was and then they had their room upstairs. We never really got in each others space. Here, that’s not possible. I’m literally sleeping on a twin bed that’s been set up in the dining room since it’s a tiny 750sq ft one bedroom house. And my mom nor Mo work, so they NEVER LEAVE. And neither of them have much variety in the food they eat so I’ve had to adapt to eating much of the same bland poor southern shit I grew up with. Which is good occasionally but man. I can’t wait to have my own kitchen again and cook some Indian food. Or Mediterranean.

My goal is to have my own place by the first of August. Thats plenty of time to have the money for the first few months plus deposit. The biggest issue is not knowing what’s gonna be on the market. Rent, while not nearly as high as places like Chicago and Austin and huge cities like that, it’s still unreasonable for a single income person. Especially when that income is just under 40k a year, pre tax.

Anyway, my hope is that once I get moved into my own place I can finally have the energy and focus to do more creative shit. I have TONS of ideas written down but with no space to do any of them, it’s been depressing. I’ve got buttons and magnets and silly shit all in my big ass head. And not all of it is wrestling related.

Alright I’m gonna stop now. But yeah if anyone read all this I apologize haha. It’s not my usual shit of making jokes about AEW and posting too many pics of Chuck Taylor and Orange Cassidy.

#personal #about me #work stuff

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pokemon-teacology · 1 year ago

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I hate being sick, both because it suck and also because it gives my Pokémon an excuse to dote on me like No, darlings, I'm supposed to be taking care of you and making you meals and tucking you into bed (or in their case their pokeballs) after a nice hot bath or equivalent heating method, not the other way around.

Anyway battle club is tomorrow so I'd better be better by then, I've got shit to do and essays to write and all that fun stuff.

We've decided secret Santa this year already too, my friends from back home and I. I'm so excited to make and buy stuff for it! We won't be meeting up until after the new year due to clashing schedules, but I'm not too upset about that, I get to see most of them while I'm here anyway.

I've already gotten the kiddos gifts (including my brother, though he's only barely still a kiddo). I'm not telling here in case they find my account. I decided to get Sonia smth for the first time in a while too, since we're back in touch.

I'm... Debating whether or not I should get something for Leon this year. I mean, he's gonna be right there on Christmas day this year (if my sources (his mother) are correct), and I'm popping over to give hop his gift anyway, so I may as well???? But like,,, what the fuck do you get a man with enough money to get himself anything???? What am I supposed to buy him that he doesn't already own and that he actually needs or wants? I haven't actually had a convo with him one-on-one since we were kids, I don't know what his interests are now other than Pokémon and terrible, terrible hats. But we spoke back before ei left for paldea and once the awkwardness settled it was just like we were 10 again, and ive really missed having my friend :(((

But yeah no I got nothing. But that's fine! I'll just procrastinate until I have to find something last minute and the miracle of convenience will help me happen upon the perfect thing in the nick of time. That always happens for stuff like this, so it'll be fine.

I've got to figure out what to get my parents, too :/ and my younger cousins, I've got no clue what to get them. My Mons' stuff have all been purchased secretly, none of them know what I'm getting for the others or themselves, so all I need to do is wrap them the day before and we're all good.

Also, the mid-season break of the trainer cup in galar is starting in a few days due to the temp drops lately in galar, so I'll do a big update on the past few weeks once the final battle is through.

#pkmn irl #pokemon irl #unreality #rotomblr #rotumblr #pokemon #pokeblogging #pkmn #christmas chaos #champion leon #dandeleon

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anonymooseforever007 · 3 years ago

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The Boy in the Bookstore

(Word Count 5300ish)

Hey y’all! ❤️ This is the third part of THIS imagine and the Second part of it is HERE. While y’all don’t need to have read the second part to understand what is going on, it would help to read the first. These chapters are out of chronological order and I wanted them to jump back and forth between different points in the past and present, so this one takes place in 1927 while the last took place in 1914. If y’all haven’t noticed, this story does go off cannon, but I have kept a few things/people that y’all may recognize… but enough rambling. I had a fun time writing this even in the midst of exams so I hope y’all enjoy :) ❤️❤️ Also I don’t know if I should put a trigger warning but there is what could be considered dark humor in relation to school grades at the beginning so… ? Summary: Dogs, Children, Books, and Murder….. what do these things have in common? Why they can all be found in London Town, even on a sunny day…

“This is my favorite book in all the world, though I have never read it.” — The Princess Bride

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

London, January 1927

It was a beautiful day in London. The sun was shining and the streets were bustling with dozens of people. It was if the entire city had come to life with the start of the new year only a few weeks ago. Despite the occas…..

“Wait! No! Come back! You missed me!”

“You wanted the car to hit you?”

“I still haven’t written the essay for Professor Jones or done the biology project for Professor Gilbert. And both are due tomorrow…. At this point I don’t care if it’s a stray bike wheel that hits me as long it does its damn job.”

“As long as it does its job it kill you?”

“Well, I mean I was going for a sprained wrist or two, so I didn’t have to write the stuff, but if it also means I don’t have to sit next to James Orwell in my nursing class….”

“NELLY NO!”

The other four girls who hadn’t spoke yet, laughed at Ruth’s sudden outburst, in response to Nelly’s ‘near death encounter’ as she would later boast about it, during the english lecture the following week. In reality, the car had been on the other side of the empty street, nowhere near close to hitting the raven haired girl, who had now jumped into another dramatic tirade of all the thing about James Orwell that repulsed her. Most of them involved the raunchy things he was know for saying, or his habit of looking a few inches lower than the eyes of any girl he spoke to actually were.

“Oh and you wouldn’t believe what he said about Anna Hearth just la…. DOG!”

The girl had suddenly interrupted her own heartfelt speech to point out the large mastiff lumbering down the same side of the path the girls were currently stopped on.

And just like that all thoughts of, “Crusty James Orwell” had vanished, as the group of six turned to smile and wave (to the dog), each with little variations of, “Hi Puppy”, “Oh there’s a dog”, and one, “Mornin’ Big Boy, you’ve stealing from the pantry, huh?’” towards the passing beast.

It was the last of these comments which made the dog’s owner, a large bearded man with a top hat and cane, give a small snort from his nose and a quick (yet not cold) side eye to the young group as he continued forward. The comment had also resulted in the less subtle head turn of the man’s friend walking behind him, a nervous, younger looking man who’s head had snapped over so fast it appeared to have be built on a wheel. It was almost as if he couldn’t believe such a comment had been so carelessly made in the vicinity of his friend. Not that the girls understood why though.

The dog himself, had also seemed to register the new attention he was getting. As if understanding the words that escaped the girls’ mouths, he appeared to have stood up a bit straighter, raising his head, slightly slowing his walk to take longer strides, and it even seemed like he held his ears a little higher, so to even further his mighty size. And as he began to pass directly by the group, his owner a few feet behind, the mastiff had turned his head slightly towards the girls, as if to give them a better view of his face. This, of course, sent most of the girls into another chorus of, “Oh handsome boy!” and, “I bet you make all the lady dogs swoon!” resulting in a now more obvious wagging of the dog’s tail as the praises reached his ears (and possibly another chuckle from the bearded man).

And then, if it hadn’t been for his owner’s gruff, but not threatening command of, “Ah right dog, stop with the fucking flirting, we got lots of bread to make” who knows how long the dog would have stayed, showing off for his new friends. With one more quick pose his his head, the dog continued lumbering down the street and then around the corner, followed by the nervous young man and the dog’s owner, who gave a quick nod to the small group, before he himself vanished from their sight.

Leaving the small group of six to spend a few seconds longer talking about the dog. Then they finally brought their focus back the original problem being discussed before Nel’s “close” encounter and educational woes….

“I STILL think we should head over to the bar that Anna Low told me about in the communal showers one day before winter holiday.”

“And I told you Betty, if me mum finds out I went to another one of those unsafe clubs, I’d loose more than just my life! She’d tear pull me out is school and send me to a nunnery! A NUNNERY!!!”

“Ah right! And what’s wrong with being a nun? Two of me sisters joined and they see it just fine! Besides, it’s not like none of us aren’t old enough to get inside the damn place! Your mum just doesn’t want you to have fun!”

“Ok! Would you two please shut it! We came to London to have a fun women’s day for the last of our long week, not bring out the whole city with you screeches, yeah! Ruthie, fine, we don’t have go to the bar today, but Betty is kinda right. You can’t always walk around worried how your mum back in Leeds will react to you trying new things. No ones gonna make you drink or smoke or any of that stuff if you don’t want to. In fact, if anyone tried to force ya hand I’m sure Betty Boo here will be the first to break their hand for your honor. But don’t you want to at least see what all the fuss is about even once? ….And Betty, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to take part in a nunnery. You just know how our Ruthie here feels on having a tight schedule she’s not in charge of. But I do agree with her that maybe the bar wouldn’t be the best way to spend our last hours in London. After all, we are still expected to be in Dr. Walton’s class tomorrow at 9:45. Surely, you remember how well it went last time you showed up after a night out? Besides, we can always come back another time with the boys one day. Then they can join the fun too, AND we won’t have to worry about any creeps following us back to the station. I’m sure Peter would be very happy if you decided to show him how you do the Charleston now…”

It was the last of these statements, said by the red-headed Louisa Grant, in an impromptu effort to prevent Betty and Ruthie from (once again) butting heads. And it wasn’t that the two girls, Betty and Ruthie, didn’t get along, when in fact, among the small group they probably had the closest relationship as a pair.

On their very first days at the university, the group of Betty, Ruthie, and Louisa had come together upon finding themselves placed in the same dormitory. And though each girl in the group had different interests, they still made fast friends upon realizing a problem they would have in common. That problem being the boys living in the dormitory room only one floor above, who all seemed to believe that 2:30 in the morning was the perfect time for their wrestling practices.

It was as if the constant banging above and the near constant thuds if bodies on the floor, sounds which were far more prevalent than any others noises to be heard (a large blessing in everyone’s opinion), had given them a reason to come together and find a common enemy. And once the enemy was found, the bond was formed and the girls quickly became fast friends.

There was a forth girl in their room as well, though in her quiet nature and absolute aversion to making decisions, she had yet to give her input on where the group should go. Eliza McGarett was her name, and despite her eagerness to visit London for the first time, she was still concerned about the consequences that would come with the impromptu trip. Eliza was always this way, often feeling the need to push herself to finish work early and critiquing her work until it was perfect. And while this earned the girl one of the highest rankings in her studies, it often lead her to forget to relax and let herself focus on opportunities other than work. Nevertheless she had joined the group today, if only because the early beginning of the new semester meant there was not work yet assigned for any of HER classes (none of which were shared with poor Nelly). And despite her worries of a spontaneous essay being assigned, in which she would have not time to write, Eliza would admit that she was quite enjoying herself today.

Once Louisa had said her peace, and both Betty and Ruth had wordlessly agreed to bury the shovel (for now), the group was for a third time brought to silence by the the looming question ahead.

Now that they had finally reached London, what were they do to?

It was as if someone had flipped a switch in the girls’ heads, having decided where NOT to go, none of them knew where TO go. No one could think of any place they really wanted to visit. After all, they had decided to go to London as a way to spend their first long weekend after the new semester began, and that was about as far as each had planned. They all figured, that as soon as they got to the busy city there would be no need to search for something to do. Yet, an hour into their destination, and they were still contemplating where to explore.

The silence prevailed for a few seconds more, before Eliza (as usual in this instance) was the first to call,

“NOT IT!”

Before bringing her hand to the end of her nose and holding it there, signifying that she would not be the one forced to make the decision. This sudden declaration brought a scurry among the others girl, each hurrying to bring her hand to her own nose and announce a claim to NOT choose where to go.

“NOT IT!”

“NOPE!”

“I’M NOT CHOOSIN’!”

“HA! NOT ME!”

“Wha…ohh nose! …Faa…I don’t want do it. Please don’t make me choose.”

A round of laughter came from the other girls, as the last of their group finally realized what was going on. Having been, once again, distract by the thoughts in her own head, Y/N Herbert (once Shelby) had not even barely missed the start of the game. It was only half way through the others’ calls, she had turned her head from the pair of squirrels playing who had caught her eye, and noticed what was going on. But still not wanting to be the one to make the ultimatum, she too brought her hand to her face, nearly concussing herself with the force of it. Though seeing as by the time she did so the other girls were starting at her, all with grins on their faces and all of who’s’ faces were partially covered by the hands on their own noses.

Resigning to her fate, Y/N gave a quick laugh and a final (unrequited) plea with her eyes to be given a second chance. A slightly dramatic sigh then left her mouth, before the girl once again moved to her thoughts, only this time of entertaining places to go. And a few moments later, a spark ignited in her eyes, as a kind but impish smile appeared on her face and she began to speak.

“Alright! So here’s an idea. Instead of going to one just place, why don’t we take a tour I’ve heard of. To see the sites. It could be fun….” Upon hearing this the rest of the girls moved closer, eager for their friend to continue, “First we start out over by Bucks Row, in Whitechapel. Then we can make our way over to Hanbury Street in Spitalfields and hang around there, before heading back over to Berner Street in Whitechapel. And I guess if nothing happens by then we can always go back over by Dorset Street in Spitalfields and see if he’s hanging around over there,” finished Y/N with innocent smile as if it was the most exciting tour to ever be held. But the rest of the girls were confused.

“What? That makes so sense Y/N. What kind of tour is that,” stated Louisa, who while usually very supportive of her friend’s odd ideas, couldn’t bring herself to give in this time.

“It a tour to find Jack of course,” the girl in question replied, her smile beginning to grow.

“Jack? Who’s Jack? I don’t think we know anyone named jack,” Ruth said, glancing back at Betty to confirm her thoughts. Betty shook her hesitantly.

“You lot don’t know Jack? The Jack! Wow, I’m awfully surprised! It’s Jack! He was really big a few years back! A really lady killer they called him. No one’s been able to tame him down, even to this day they sa—“

“WAIT! DO YOU MEAN JACK THE FUCKING RIPPER! The serial killer who never got caught! You want us to look for him!!!” Nelly spewed out as she caught on to what Y/N’s plan was, causing Y/N to burst out in laughter, proud of her own joke, along with Eliza who had caught on as soon as “Jack” was mentioned. The remaining girls rolled their eyes in amusement, as two who came up with the plan finished their giggles.

“I mean, you did want me to give ideas for where we could go,” Y/N finished with a chuckle, still smiling at her own humor, before finally reveling an actual idea for the trip, “But I suppose if that doesn’t catch any of y’all’s fancy we could always try going to the bookstore we saw on Oxford Street. The one over by the little cafe. Maybe we could all go there and see if they have any new books, and then go get a warm drink and explore the park. I can’t think of anything else to do right now, but I do know Arthur Doyle finally released the last Sherlock book! I heard it came out and want to get it before they’re all sold out!”

After waiting to hear any negative comments from the other girls about this new plan, none came. At last it seemed like the girls had finally found a place to go. Those who wanted to get a new book could find one, and the rest who didn’t could just go with them and wait a few minutes before they all went to the little cafe. Then after they ate they could walk around to peruse the “little” shops on the rest of the street, maybe even catching the final showing of the newest film. Finally, they could hurry back to the train station and head back to their respective dorms (or apartments in the case of the two neighbors, Nelly and Y/N) so they could make to their respective classes the next day.

So the group set off in the direction of the shop, chatting animatedly about what books they would look for, drinks they would get, and in Nelly’s case, why a date with Jack the Ripper would be so much more enjoyable than one with James Orwell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With a firm shove of the warped old door and the short tinkle of a bell attached to the top, the group arrived at the old bookshop. Covering the walls were hundreds of books, some big, some small, some new, some old, but inside each was a story to be told.

The girls split off in different directions, each hoping to find a new story to bring home. Ruth and Nelly headed towards the section that seemed to hold romance novels, though the kinds Nelly would be looking for were certainly not the same ones “Proper Ruth” would have her eye on. Betty found her book rather quickly, she had already been planning to buy another copy of Fitzgerald’s “The Great Gatsby” after hers was left at the fair, the girl went too a few months back, and luckily the story kept a few of them on display up front. Eliza first drifted into the section for the store that held more technical writings, about scientific theories and business practices, but if one payed attention they would notice her slipping over to the classical horror section only a few moments later. That left Louisa and Y/N to chat quietly as they headed over to the mystery section where they both hoped to find the newest tales of Sherlock Holmes.

The girls searched quietly along the rows of books with the occasionally comment of how, “this one looked good” or, “I dare you to give this one too….” And sometimes passing books between so that the other could read a short piece of it.

It was one of these books, passed from Louisa to Y/N, which made the latter freeze as she read the title on the reddish-brown leather cover. It was if the publishing company had decided to redesign the cover to give it a new flair, after twenty five years of it being read though the world.

But Y/N was not going to buy this book in her hands, because it was one she already had. The book in her hands was one she had known by heart for a long time, and she truly believed she could recite it word by word, though she hadn’t read any of them herself in years. Her own copy was tucked away safely in her apartment by the university, on her bedside table, right next to a picture of her and her (step)dad, from the day he first let her drive his car. And inside the book she already had, was another picture of a different man, who shared the same title as the first, though each man was each equally deserving to be called such a name. However, had been a long time since Y/N had been able to call this second man by that title to his face. And anyone who knew her story would know, that it would be many more before the girl could called this man by that title again. Many years has passed since the man was lost, and it would surely be many more before this girl, so full of life, would follow in the man’s footsteps, and find peace in the eternal rest. For now, she had the faded picture, the worn book and a few other trinkets, not taken away by the woman who should have been her greatest comfort. Now, of the few things she still had of him, the man who’s picture held the place in the book, all these things were cherished greatly and thought about often.

Though the book in her hands was new, the story within was far from being so… at least for her.

In her hands, Y/N held not one but two stories. One being spun by the words on the pages, and the other spun on distant memories in the far past. Memories now faded around the edges, but of the same man who often smiled and held close to his chest a little girl, who would play with the buttons of his shirt or the tips of his hair as she drifted off to sleep. And as the girl grew older in the memories, the story from the man’s mouth remained the same. Yet with each word spoken, the girl found herself unable to pull her attention away and let herself be distracted by the world outside the fantasy. Even as she had heard the story a hundred times by now, never reading them herself, as she had only just begun to understand how different letters pieced together different words.

Yes, the book in her hand held two stories, and even as one had been read many times before, both had yet to be finished. The story of the girl, Y/N Shelby (now Herbert, as was her stepfather’s last name), was not over, as Y/N still had time to grow and a full life to live ahead. In fact, as far as she saw it, it was more likely that her own story be finished before the one the book told was….at least this time. Years ago, she had promised not to turn even a single page before her father returned from the war, wanting to wait until she could do so nestled close into his side, listening to his calming voice under the covers of the bed which she often shared with him (and on stormy nights her youngest uncle). However, even as the war left France, her father never did, and so the pages of the book remained unturned, except for when they were opened so that old picture could once again see the sun of day.

“Do you like that book?”

Interrupted from her thoughts, Y/N turned her gaze from the leather bound cover to the speaker of the innocent question.

Surprisingly, these hadn’t been Louisa’s words, but a quick glance at the girl allowed Y/N to see her friend was also wondering the same. Instead it was another young girl, maybe nine years old, who had spoken, and just behind her followed two even younger boys. The older of the two, maybe seven or eight, was wearing a simple, but nice brown coat and holding on the hand of the youngest. Judging by their similar features, Y/N would guess they were siblings or at least cousins who had decided to roam the store on by themselves while their mother(s) conversed.

Smiling softly at the children, Y/N, with the book still in hand, crouched down slightly, not to patronise them, but rather so she could better look in their eyes as she spoke to them. And as she responded her smile grew when memories of of the story came flooding back.

“Hello, this book you ask? This is my favourite book in all the world, though I have never read it. It’s got just about everything any person could ask for in a story… It has princesses, pirates, adventure, love, friendship, jokes, and so much more I can’t even begin to describe it all, without just telling you the story. If there ever was a story that anyone would like it would be this one. I truly think if I could only have one story for the rest of my life it would be this one. If your want a story to last a life thine this would be the one.”

And just like her friends had earlier, as Y/N spoke the children moved closer, entranced by her words of a tale so fascinating. The youngest of the children, a small boy, who was maybe at the end of three years old, had finally brought his face out from behind the back of the older boy. When the children first approached he had been clasping on tightly to his brother’s hand, and he still was, only now he stood in front, next to the girl, eager to hear what happened next.

Finishing her summary, Y/N looked at the children and then Louisa who had stopped reading the cover of the book on her own hands to listen. Waiting to see if her answer was sufficient, or if the children wanted more explanation, which she would have been happy to give. The Princess Bride (the name of the book) was always something Y/N was more than willing to talk about.

“Wait… what do you mean you’re favourite, you’ve never read! You can’t know a story if you can’t read it!” The girl stated, rocking back and forth on her feet slightly as she did so. And it was a fair statement of course. How many stories can one know such detail, that they’ve never read themselves? Sure there were films, but even the tales told on the black and white screen seemed quite limited compared to those on a page at this time. Y/N knew this, and with a short laugh explained her first response.

“You’re right, it sometimes be hard to know a story without reading it. But this story is special for me. My dad probably stated reading this book to me when I was your age,” she said pointing to the littlest child, who once again hid his face at the attention, “and he continued to do so until just after I turned your age” she finished, now pointing at the oldest boy. “He read it to me every night, doing all sorts of voices and sometimes bringing in my stuffed animals as characters. So even though I’ve never read the story myself, I know it better than any other today.”

There was beat of silence among the children, as they processed the information before the boy in the brown coat opened his mouth.

“Me dad’s dead.”

The statement was said in such a matter of fact way… the way young children often say things, as if what is said is said, and there should be no worry of how others may react, even if what is said is heavy. It was something Y/N noticed more as she got older. Children often spoke without thinking about the responses their words would bring. Often to them, what was being said was true (or they wanted it to be), and if what was being said was true, then there would be no reason NOT to share their truth with anyone…No matter what that truth may be. Hence why Y/N learned long ago, never to talk about her misdoings around a chatty three year old who followed her wherever she went. Even when the three year old was often a partner in said misdoings.

Louisa gasped and covered her mouth as the sudden comment, not knowing how to respond. Y/N’s eyes widened for second before she brought her face back to its original position, a small half smile and tilted head she reserved for young children and all dogs. As she had understood stood how the words were spoken, she only hesitated slightly before she replied.

“He is? Well, I’m very sorry to hear that sweetheart. Do you want to know a secret?…. My dad, the one who read me the story? He’a dead too.”

“Really!” The boy said, as if he couldn’t believe anyone else’s father could have died.

“Yes, he is. In fact, he died right when I was probably about your age, so it’s been a few years since I’ve seen him.”

“So your dad’s in heaven too? That’s where my mum says mine is.”

“Yeah. My dad’s right up there too… Hey, I tell you what? Why don’t our dad’s be friends?”

“Friends?” This time it was the girl who spoke, cocking her head at the idea of two dead men being friends.

“I don’t see why not? Now I promise my daddy was a very nice man. And you lot seem so pleasant, I don’t see why he wouldn’t not want to be friends with anyone related to you.”

“Our dad’s could be friends? Would they play games and stuff?” It was the older boy again, though the younger had his blue eyes on Y/N just as intently.

“Of course they could play games, there are plenty of games for them to play! Why don’t you think of games you like to play, and they could play those! I know my dad loved to play hide and seek with me!” Y/N was now leading the children, slowly but surely, away from the topic of their lost loved ones, in a way she hoped wouldn’t make them feel as if she was brushing such off. If there was one thing she hated it was when people (her mother) brushed things which a child like Y/N thought important to bring up when she was younger. The top of those things included her father, even if it was only to let someone know why she wouldn’t let anyone else touch her story book anymore. As she grew, she never wanted to make a child feel like what they had to say wasn’t important, but she did realise that at time there were topics (such as a lost parent) that may have been best discussed other than in public to strangers. So she gently tried to redirect the conversation to one which hopefully wouldn’t lead to a crying child and angry mother for opening the gates to such ideas.

“I like to play hide and seek too! And Catch! And Tag! And Climb Trees! And sometimes me and my cousins play robbers and pretend to shoot guns at each other! Maybe our dad’s could do that! And they could be best friends!” The boy bounced up and down on the ball of his feet with each word, in turn causing his brother to also be bounced up and down as he still held on.

“See those are all wonderful ideas! Now our dads have so NoThough I do hope they aren’t real guns, our dad!s will be pointing at each other! That could be dangerous. But I think they could absolutely be best friends, your dad and mine! They would be best friends!” Y/N smiled as the older children began to trail off, talking to each other about games they enjoyed, while they younger one shot his head back and forth between, occasionally looking at Y/N and smiling shyly in a way the reminded her of a boy she knew long ago.

It was soon after this when Nelly and Eliza came to gather other two girls, while Ruth and Betty were at the counter buying their books. While Y/N had continued to talk to the children, who’s mother she learned was sorting new books in the store’s back room, Louisa had finally found two copies of the Sherlock Holmes and was patiently waiting for Y/N so they too could make their purchases. Standing up from her crouched position and smoothing out her dress, Y/N looked at her approaching friends.

“Since you all seemed to have found your books, who’s gonna pick what cafe we eat at?”

There was a beat of silence among the older girls and the children before….

“NOT IT!”

“NOT IT”

“NOPE!”

“I WIN THIS TIME!”

“NEVER HAVE I LOST!”

“I have a nose too…”

Laughter came from everyone (along with a groan from Betty who lost) as the little boy in the blue coat spoke for the first time, his palm laid flat out, covering his nose, mirroring Y/N’s own hand positioning, with a small grin on his proud face. Evidently, he had seen the older girls make their claims, covering their own noses and decided he had wanted to win too. The girls congratulated him on his “win” each with a comment of “good job buddy” and “you win!” making his smile and the other childrens’ grow, even as his hand remained in his face.

Once Louisa and Y/N made their purchases, they went back over to say goodbye to the children who had stared to play a new game. One involving who could pull the most books from a towering stack before it came crashing down. Though both girls doubted this would end with out at least one scratch, they bid the kids goodbye and good luck with their game.

And as Y/N exited the store, the tinkle of a bell once again signalling the door opening to the busy London street, she heard the call of one of the children to his mother, about a new book he wanted her to read that night. And while she’d never be certain, Y/N’s lips pulled up at the thought of which book it could be…

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

✨✨a/n: Ok! So there’s the third part, I’ve already started a bit on the fourth part, but I also want to work on some other stories so I don’t have a definite time when it will come out. But I hope y’all liked this part! Not too many Shelby’s in this one, but since the next part jumps over to 1916 hopefully we’ll see some more then! I hope y’all have a great day! ❤️❤️

#Peaky Blinders #Tommy Shelby #Thomas Shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x daughter reader #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby imagine

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youcouldmakealife · 3 years ago

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Status Update

I have an update! A solid update! With a date and everything!

(that date is June 21st and it will be when I am officially back! But Jared may appear…a little before that. Like a harbinger.)

I also have a veritable essay below the cut, and I am going to TL;DR right here and now: there are going to be fewer stories of the week going forward. For reasons. Further details (and reasons!) are said essay below.

I wasn’t just resting and…getting COVID…while I was away. I’ve used the time I’ve had for introspection (I know) and self-reflection (I KNOW) and watching the NHL playoffs (I am still me). Because what is almost completely malfunctioning if not a ‘maybe these are not optimal conditions for you’ wake up call.

So here’s what I introspected (actually a word! horrible word, really): I suck at deadlines, particularly for long-term projects. This likely isn’t news to you if you’ve been around here for awhile. It isn’t news to me either, nor would it be news to any teacher I had from elementary school on. Not really very introspection-y thus far. There are a few reasons my series are released part by part, but the number one reason by far is because otherwise I would likely never finish anything at all.

But: I really suck at deadlines, and despite knowing this about myself, I don’t make it any easier when it comes to publication by creating workarounds and keeping myself motivated by posting as I go like I do with series. Not that I really can in the same way -- hey everyone, who wants version 3.02 of page 36, I removed three commas, cut down a wordy sentence, and split one long paragraph into two shorter ones!.

But I do need to get better at breaking big scary projects into itty bitty pieces and setting deadlines for those and then actually abiding by those deadlines, rather than sitting paralysed with indecision (when I’m not industriously doing something else to productively procrastinate) and internally panicking and feeling overwhelmed and deciding that I, in fact, hate everything I have ever written and will ever write and — oh shit, I have a story of the week due tomorrow, better get on that instead. (So industrious with my productive procrastination.)

Which leads me to the next thing! I also have confused ‘what I am capable of doing’ with ‘what I am capable of doing indefinitely’ (they are not the same thing, sadly), and the general writing output I’ve been hitting (approximately 270-300,000 words annually, not including edits and rewrites and everything else) is — likely not a sustainable pace for my long-term health and longevity as a writer? And that’s not even my goal! My goal is 365,000 a year, and I never hit it, because that goal is ridiculous! And yet I keep on setting it!

It’s also an example of me getting in my own way. I have a bad habit of letting smaller, more time-sensitive pieces of writing (the stories of the week and month) get in the way of ongoing series and, much more often, in the way of behind the scenes work like editing and publication prep, because I constantly mistake how soon something is due for how high it should be on my priority list.

And there are…a lot of time-sensitive pieces of writing. Between the stories of the week on Patreon and Kickstarter, the stories of the month for Patreon, and the extras, we’re talking 15-18 stories a month, every month. That’s…a lot? That seems like a lot!

Maybe…too many?

This is not a ‘no more stories of the week’ announcement. First off — we made a deal! Second of all, I really enjoy writing them, and I think they’re actually one of the key things that keep me as productive as I am. Writing those prompts keeps the creative juices flowing when my active series aren’t cooperating, and the characters alive in my head even after I’ve finished their series. The outtakes mean that even when I’m not writing my Main Things, I’m writing something in the ‘verse. Also you may have noticed I am not very good at doing only one thing at a time. The variety’s part of what makes my job so fun.

But this is a ‘fewer stories of the week’ announcement. I’ll be writing about the specifics for each for patrons through Kickstarter (in the next email update) and Patreon (via an update there), but I’m cutting them down by about half. Bi-weekly stories. Stories of the bi-week. Odd week and even week stories?

The tumblr stories of the week are, at least for the time being, going to go on hiatus. This may be something I re-examine when I’m not juggling publication with ongoing output, but right now, that’s one of the things I’m going to be cutting down on. The story of the month on tumblr will continue though!

Kickstarter and Patreon stuff indented here!

The Kickstarter stories of the week are going to be bi-weekly, and the Weekly Update will remain half a lie, because it will no longer be weekly, but it will have an update included every time! A for real update! With the things I did…and stuff!

The Patreon stories of the week are also going to be bi-weekly. I’ll be moving those to Sundays just so I don’t fuck up constantly re: remembering which week is a posting week.

I’ll be getting more into the stories of the week and month on with a post on Patreon, with the full awareness that people may feel like it’s me changing the deal (it is! I am changing the deal!), and wanting to amend or remove their pledges. This is fine! I understand, just like I hope you understand that this isn’t a decision I’m making lightly, and is, I think, better for the sustainability of my long term writing career and my writing in the YCMAL ‘verse specifically. I am doing a short term pain for long term gain thing here. It sucks and I hate it because I want to do all the things but I know it’s for the best.

So yes. That is where we stand when I return! Which I am doing soon! But not yet, because right now I’m still working on getting back up to speed in a way that’s healthy and not liable to send me right back into the land of burnout because frankly I don’t much like it there.

Thank you all for being so patient with me as I’ve wrestled with this, you’re the best. <3

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youjustwaitsunshine · 3 years ago

Note

ok so I’mma ask a really dumb question. What do you mean when you say that you can tell that German wasn’t a good subject for Seb in school? I’m assuming it’s something in -how- he’s speaking? Is that a big deal in school? For me as a usamerican, public speaking or formal speaking isn’t much taught unless it’s for a particular vocation, so people usually don’t speak in that way.

not a dumb question at all! also esp other germans, feel free to discuss/add your point of view

so first off the education system in germany is a ~huge~ mess because our federal states all manage education separately which leads to really big discrepancies in the value of your final exams (it's way easier to get full marks in some states than others etc and unis then have to accommodate to that, it's among other things something that adds to the rift between former East and West Germany) and not only that, it even varies within the federal states because the schools are funded by the idk the english equivalent, i guess you could say counties? so i can only truly speak about my experiences (but the subjects are still more or less centralized and vary mostly in the depth theyre gone into with)

In Seb's case, he often struggles to express himself clearly in German, uses examples and often repeats sentences/sentence fragments that he seems comfortable with. He often leaves thoughts unfinished and although he's quite eloquent when he knows what he wants to say his words get more 'simple' when he gets stuck explaining himself and talks in what a German teacher would consider 'bad style'. Funnily enough, he's more eloquent (/consistent in his level of eloquence) in English, probably both due to it being his second language and that he uses it a lot more in a professional context where it's extremely important to report back to the team clearly. It's important to note though that the people interviewing Seb are excellent at German (or English) and often studied journalism so it's very noticeable while it probably would be less so in a discussion with people whose profession isn't tied to eloquence.

That said, i do feel like there's a lot of value placed on properly expressing yourself throughout all subjects. In German class (and also second and third languages, in my case English and French) you write a lot of argumentative essays and have mock debates and class discussions. There's of course a lot of literary analysis but that still comes around to expressing yourself concisely and clearly. We don't explicitly have public speaking in German class but the mock discussions are (or at least were at my school) held not only in German class but also in Politics class, Geography and Economics class, Religion/Ethics class (the subject differs depending on if you're protestant or catholic or a different confession/religion/not religious but the topics are largely the same, ethics, morality, the world religions) and to an extent in History class. Also a lot of schools have project weeks where you have a model parliament debate, be it model UN or EU or whatever which is pretty cool.

To get back to German class though, it's one of the core subjects in the education system for most of your school career (when i finished school even more so than now because the education system ~in my federal state~ changed right after i graduated) together with the languages you learn and math and a lot of the skills from german class transfer over to subjects that get less hours/week.

Tl;dr: German class is definitely (among other things) putting a focus on teaching students how to be effectively argumentative both in written and spoken word and Seb often speaks German a bit clumsily and in simple(r) terms (than those around him).

#anon ask #this was enjoyable to write :D #although im far from being an expert at rhetorics you gotta go to my friend for that 😅#also that doesn't mean that seb wouldn't be a worthy opponent in a debate #he still sounds like someone you can have a really fun argument with #and as someone who loves having fun arguments with friends id love to invite him for an evening with my besties #choose a random topic and get heated over it while still being ✨sophisticated✨#sebastian vettel

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cozy-the-overlord · 3 years ago

Text

Burning the Midnight Oil

Summary: You’re alone and miserable, up far too late losing your mind over an essay that isn’t even due tomorrow when Loki pops in with flowers.

Word Count: 1,858

Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: So this is a reader fic, but also the reader is literally just me. I usually don’t like writing super obviously personal self-indulgent fluff, but I’ve had an incredibly shitty week and just ended up writing this in my notebook yesterday. This isn’t really edited, and it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense (like ... don’t question how Loki ended up dating a random college student), but it was therapeutic to write and I figured I might as well post it. Also, the line Loki reads aloud is from Sonnet 29, a poem that has absolutely nothing to do thematically with this story, but it’s my favorite sonnet and I wanted Loki to read it to me so don’t judge.

Thanks for reading!

Warnings: Implied depression

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @the-emo-asgardian @imnotrevealingmyname @electroma89 @lokislittlesigyn @moumouton4 @theredrenard @justdontmindmetm @lostgreekgod @naterson

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

Your back hurts.

Everything hurts, actually. These dorm-issued chairs are not designed with long-term comfort in mind, and you’ve been sitting here hunched at your desk for a while now, several hours at least. There had still been light streaming through your weather-beaten blinds when you first sat down to work, but the sun had long since faded beneath the horizon—in fact, if your roommate had been here, she probably would have asked you a while ago in her soft, amiable manner if it was okay if she turned off the big ceiling light, her polite way of telling you to get the fuck off your laptop and go to bed. But your roommate isn’t here—she’s staying over at her asshole damned-lucky-to-have-her boyfriend’s apartment, a last-minute decision that left you alone and unsupervised for the night.

You’re fine though. It’s good to have time to yourself. Hell, there was a time where the prospect of a night of solitude would send you jumping for joy. It’s just … well, you have a tendency of turning a vacant room into an echo chamber to your thoughts, and these days your thoughts haven’t exactly been the kind of thing you enjoy being alone with.

It doesn’t matter. Tonight, you’re fine—you have a distraction. This essay isn’t due until Friday, but you’ve determined to finish it tonight, and now you can’t go to bed until the final period has been typed. It’s a messy business, essay writing. All night, you’ve known nothing but the relentless back and forth between the brilliant spark of a fresh idea that leaves you feeling like a genius and the all-consuming urge to bash your laptop against the wall over and over and over again before you allow your professor to lay her eyes on the wretched piece. At the moment, you’re beginning to stumble back into the latter, but you force yourself to swallow your self-contempt and keep going. It doesn’t matter how awful it is, just that it’s finished. Then you can lie on your heating pad and fall asleep to the sound of a YouTube art video you’ve watched a million times before.

“What are you still doing up?”

You jump at the question, nearly knocking your computer from its precarious position perched on the edge of your desk. Loki reaches around you to steady it with one hand—the other is supporting a vase the size of your head blooming with vibrant daffodils.

“Forgive me,” he says. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You let out a breath that’s shakier than you intended. One would think that after nearly a year of dating a literal magic extraterrestrial man of myth, you wouldn’t even bat an eye at his habit of just … appearing, but there are still times when it makes your heart race.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to drop these off. I saw them earlier, and I know you said they were your favorite …” He trails off, motioning to the daffodils as he sets the vase on your desk. You inhale. He’s right—they are your favorites, and you find yourself smiling at the playful yellow buds, basking in a kind of warmth you’ve been lacking.

“They’re beautiful,” you whisper. “Thank you so much.”

Loki chuckles, somewhat sheepishly. “I had meant them as a surprise for when you awakened in the morning. I assumed you would have been asleep by now. What are you still doing up?”

“Oh.” The headache previously flushed away by the flowers returns. You gesture vaguely at your computer screen. “Essay.”

“Ah.” He nods, scanning the document over your shoulder. “Have you been working on this all night? You must be exhausted.”

“Eh.” You shrug, trying and failing to crack an easy grin. “I’m alright.” You don’t need to look at him to feel the concern in his gaze.

But to your relief, he doesn’t voice it. Instead, he moves to rub your shoulders, a gentle massage that you didn’t realize you had been fantasizing about. You let out a sigh, leaning back in the Chair of Agony and melting into his touch.

“May I ask what the topic is?”

“Oh.” You inhale. “Well, it’s about socially constructed gender roles in The Convent of Pleasure. Like, how they’re so pervasive that even characters actively attempting to break free of them struggle to separate what is truly natural and what society has deemed to be natural. And, you know, how that’s still a thing in today’s society.”

You’re talking too much. You know it, even as you sit there rattling off your thesis. But Loki sounds genuinely intrigued

“That’s fascinating.”

You laugh. You can’t help yourself. He always sounds so earnest when you tell him about your classes, even when he has no reason to be interested in them. It makes you feel important.

“Have you heard of The Convent of Pleasure?” you ask. “It was a play from the English Renaissance.”

“Oh yes. Margaret Cavendish, correct?” You can hear the smirk in his voice as he continues. “I remember seeing it when it was first penned.”

He loves doing this—slipping in these casual reminders that he is, in fact, an immortal being who was present for every bygone era that you’re studying. You remember the first time he did it, leafing through your decrepit copy of Hamlet and offhandedly recalling the production he saw of the play, with Shakespeare playing the role of the Ghost. You think he just enjoys how your eyes widen.

This time, however, something doesn’t match up. You narrow your gaze suspiciously.

“You’re lying.”

“I’ve never been more sincere.”

“No, you’re not!” There’s a kind of playful satisfaction in knowing you’ve outsmarted him. “Convent of Pleasure is a closet play. It was never performed.”

Loki chuckles. “I see my tricks are no match for your superior intellect.” You’re already glowing from the compliment, but then he leans over to press a kiss to the top of your head and you positively melt.

“I really did read it though,” he says. “That was the one with the utopia free from men and marriage?” You nod, still too dizzy for words. “I would love to read your piece on it, if you’re comfortable with it.”

It’s as if you’ve been doused in cold water. “It’s not finished.” You know he means well, that his interest is genuine—most days you’re thrilled to share your work with him—but thinking having to show anyone the bland, uninspired analysis you’ve spent every shred of energy forcing on to the page and face their judgment makes you want to cry. “And it’s really bad.”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think it is.”

“It is. It’s horrible. Everything’s just horrible.” You actually are crying now—you can feel the tell-tale warmth prickling your eyes, even as you bite your tongue in a weak attempt to swallow it. You hate this. You hate this. You hate being this emotional little child in a world of adults, who can’t do anything without dissolving into a puddle of tears over the slightest and stupidest of non-reasons, who then has to endure the looks of confused pity, the way their voices jump in pitch to show their concern as they ask the age-old question: “what’s wrong?”

As if you know. As if you’d tell them if you did.

Loki, to his credit, doesn’t ask what’s wrong. He gives your shoulder another pat, a soothing sort of strength behind his touch as he kneels besides your chair.

“It’s late, love,” he says softly. “Writing will come easier after a full night’s rest. I promise things will be better in the morning.”

“You don’t know that,” you whisper. You want to believe him. Desperately. But to go to bed with unfinished would be a failure to meet your goal—a simple, perfectly attainable goal were you only a more functional human. You’re tired of feeling like a failure. You’re tired of waking up a failure.

Loki takes your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours with a squeeze. “Perhaps not. But I do know that forcing yourself to stay up when you’re exhausted is only going to make you feel worse.” He brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Come to bed darling.” When you hesitate, he looks up at you with pleading eyes. “Please.”

You inhale. “If I do, will you stay tonight?” You don’t say “I’m afraid to be alone”—that sounds too pathetically desperate, even for you—but you’re sure he can hear it in your voice just the same.

His smile is warm and relieved. “Of course.”

He waits patiently in the dorm as you shower and change. The one positive about waiting until the witching hour to get ready for bed is that there was no waiting for a free stall in the bathroom, so you don’t take too long. When you return to your room, he’s sitting in the Chair of Agony, thumbing through your copy of The Sonnets.

Loki clears his throat as you enter. “For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings / That then I scorn to change my state with kings.”

A beautiful shiver runs down your spine. Loki reading poetry, Loki reading Shakespeare, is nothing short of transcendent. His voice has a honeyed richness that seems handcrafted specifically for those sonorous words. He leaves you awestruck every time, and he knows it too—you see the self-satisfied smirk tickling his lips as he follows you into bed.

Your twin bed is probably too small for both of you to fit comfortably, but you don’t mind snuggling up against Loki’s chest like some clingy sloth creature, and he doesn’t seem to mind either, given how he pulls you close at first opportunity, stroking your back as the beat of his heart lulls you into a trance.

The minutes tick by in silence, and you’ve nearly drifted into slumber when he speaks.

“I’m sorry.”

You glance up with a frown. “For what?”

“I know it hasn’t been easy for you lately.” There’s a heaviness to features that you can’t bring yourself to address.

Glancing away, you swallow. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. It’s not your fault.”

“Still. I wish I could help you.”

“This is helping.” You mean it, too. He might only be a temporary fix, but everything seems safe and far away in his arms.

“Good. I’m glad.” He tips your chin so you’re looking up at him again, sparkling eyes that seem to shine even in the dark. “Just remember I am here. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, I’ll be here. You need only ask.”

Your eyes are prickling again, but for a much different reason this time. You sigh, nuzzling against his shirt like a sleepy cat. Loki kisses your forehead, and you melt into the feeling of his lips lingering against your skin.

“I love you,” you murmur. You’re not even sure you actual said the words until his gentle whisper sweeps over you in return.

“And I love you, darling.”

#loki x reader #loki fluff #loki marvel #loki fanfic #comfort fic #burning the midnight oil #cozy writes

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sugamamacustard · 4 years ago

Text

Let me help you

Pairing: Alpha! Toru Oikawa x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Hajime Iwaizumi x Omega! Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, Hurt/comfort.

Request: Because I like a bit of hurt/comfort, and I love the idea of an omega depression, I'm curious on how alpha third years on Aoba Johsai (so like Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Mattsun) would do in response to their omega being in an omega depression.

Summary: Because of unseen circumstances, you drop, and you drop hard. How does your alpha help you/redeem himself?

Author’s Note: Oikawa’s got really long, so I didn’t include Mattsun or Makki. If you wanna request a part 2 I’ll get on it right away!

Requests: Open!

Toru Oikawa

➵ Truth be told, it was kind of his fault.

➵Right after you both bonded, he immediately seemed to drop any redeeming qualities he had while courting you.

➵He skipped out on dates, stayed later and later at practice, gave the mile to his fangirls.

➵And while you could get over that, the worse thing you realized was when you went to cheer him on at one of his games.

➵His bond mark was covered with a scent gland bandage and when Iwaizumi noticed it (He knew of your bonding), he sent a worried glance your way.

➵He could practically see the heartbreak from his place on the court.

➵What was worse was that you didn’t make a scene.

➵You stood, turned and left. That was it.

➵ Oikawa was busy doing his pre-game whatever to notice, making the situation even worse.

➵Iwaizumi wanted to follow you but the whistle of the ref called him back.

➵ You didn’t want Iwaizumi to follow you anyway.

➵You felt numb. So, so numb.

➵Like anything you previously felt-- any longing, or wishing for your alpha-- reduced to a numb buzz that kept your body moving.

➵You felt like you were on Autopilot.

➵Toru made it fairly obvious that he wanted your bond mark on display, so why weren’t the same standards held to him? It wasn’t against the rules of volleyball-- several alphas had theirs out on proud display with their omega cheering in the stands.

➵Was it you?

➵God, you felt so empty. Like your will to live was dripping away.

➵You felt your omega lay down, whining as they tried to figure out what was wrong. Where did you go wrong?

➵You barely felt the soft fleece of your blankets as you settled into your nest for who knows how long.

___

Toru was lost. You were in the stands during warm-up last game, but was gone by half-time. Okay, fine. Maybe you had to pee. But then you didn’t show up at all after that. While at the time it took a back burner-- because we all know how Oikawa plays-- it was now front and center. His alpha was on edge and snapped on him twice already, sending sharp throbs of pain to his temples. It had been three days since Toru had seen you, his mate, so Toru could tell that was a big reason for his frustration. But Toru didn’t know why you had been gone for three days.

If you were sick, why didn’t you text him? Were you injured? Toru didn’t know. His neck burnt with anticipation at the thought of you in any peril.

Where were you?

Shoving his way past a few fangirls, Toru made his way into the gym, racking his brain for any sort of hint. Vacation maybe and you just forgot to tell him?

“Iwa-chan! I need your-” Toru paused, huffing when Iwaizumi roughly shoved past him. His alpha was on guard immediately, making Toru growl loudly. “What’s you issue, Iwa? Blue-balled or something?”

The laugh that left Iwaizumi made even him, the head alpha, shiver. “My issue? What’s yours?! You absolutely destroyed your relationship last game and ask me for help?! What the hell is wrong with you, Oikawa?!”

Oikawa swallowed. There was no nickname. No sense of friendship in his words. They were straight malice, laced with acidic venom meant to hurt him.

When Oikawa didn’t immediately answer, Iwaizumi continued. “You make them wear their bond mark for all the world to see, but cover yours up? What in the actual fuck is wrong with you?! How in the hell you got someone like them to glance your way for more than a second is beyond me, let alone bond you; but when you do, you fucking destroy them. You’re a failure of an alpha, Toru Oikawa.”

Truth be told, Oikawa thought that him covering up his bond mark would save you from trouble. The less people who knew about him being mated the less people to harass you. But he was your alpha. He was supposed to make sure that didn’t happen anyway. Fuck, Iwa was right. He was a failure. This became evident as more and more things came hurdling back at him. He didn’t even grab his duffel before he was, quite literally, sprinting out of the gym. He didn’t care who he pushed over. He didn’t care who he snapped at. He didn’t care. He only care about one person and one person alone.

___

You whined as hunger continued gnawing at your gut. You wanted to eat, really, but you just didn’t have the energy. You didn’t have the will.

You still felt so numb and didn’t know where to go from here. At this point, it was clear you were in the midst of an Omega Depression, and to be fair-- that scared you. You wanted to spend the evening in your nest, restart and reboot, before talking to your alpha about it the next day. You truly didn’t mean to drop.

But here you were. The aspect of ...starvation scared you. The aspect of no closure for yourself scared you. Death scared you. But you couldn’t fight yourself to fix it. Couldn’t bring yourself to even lift your head or stay awake for more than an hour.

The door to your room slammed open, but you didn’t look up. It was probably your guardian coming in to try and get you to eat again. But you wouldn’t.

Your heart dropped when the smell of burnt plastic invaded your sense.

“No- no, no, no, no no- Please god no-” Oikawa felt his heart shatter at the sight of you. You looked like you had both feet dangling in the grave, hanging on by a loose root you grabbed onto in a last ditch effort.

He continued repeating no while running his hands through his hair, already crying before he even set foot in your room. When he did dare step closer, that was all it took before he was running to you, pulling you in close despite your whines of protest. His grip on you was bruising, but he couldn’t risk letting you slip. Not again.

“Please- please don’t leave me.” He sobbed into your shoulder, your own eyes stinging (Dehydration keeping tears from falling). “I- I can fix this- I can fix us. Fuck- Please Y/N. Please omega, let me help you. Let me make this right!”

Though you didn’t say anything, the grip on his jacket told him all he needed to know. And though it would be a long road to recovery, you and him would conquer it.

➵ Completely contrary to Oikawa, your drop wasn’t anyone’s fault.

➵Maybe the school systems, if there was blame to be put.

➵So much had gone on in such a short period.

➵You and your alpha, along with his team, had been bombarded with practice and paperwork in preparation for the upcoming tournament.

➵But just because volleyball picked, doesn’t mean school drops off.

➵ You had essay after essay due, Unit exams which would soon fall into Final exams.

➵You and Hajime had barely even seen each other all week.

➵You both still sent each other good morning and good night texts, and if you see each other in the hallway you’ll give each other a quick peck.

➵Honestly, it was obvious everyone was on edge.

➵Teachers didn’t care though, they just kept piling on more, and more, and more work.

➵ And volleyball just kept getting closer and closer.

➵You stumbled into the gym with a chirp, trying to sort through the multitude of papers in your arms.

➵Your back was aching and your arms were strained, but you couldn’t drop them. That would be a disaster.

➵ The coach sent you a raised brow, offering a hand to help. You waved him off, sitting on the bench with a grunt.

➵Everyone was already sweaty and panting, practice in full swing.

➵God, everyone looked so tired already.

➵You could feel the waves of exhaustion.

➵ As they were just in deep in your bones as they were in theirs.

___

“Did you finish filling out the registry forms?”

You looked up to the coach, nodding slowly before riffling through your papers and pulling out the ones you were looking for. You handed them to the beta, quickly going back to your notes once more.

You noted the stumbled steps and slowed reflexes, but simply made it a point to emphasize rest with the boys. Maybe a day with no practice would do them more good then practice.

Hajime was doing well, as usual, somehow keeping his head and energy high. You know he hasn’t gotten much rest either, and you felt for your alpha. Honestly, you just wanted one day with just you and your alpha, where you both could sleep the day away and come back good as new.

That just sounded glorious.

“You wouldn’t mind filling out the ref sheets either, would you?” The beta smirked, already handing you the sheets. He knew you had a tough time saying no to people older and/or bigger than you; and had you doing several things that most mangers would never touch.

It was tiring.

You reluctantly took the sheets, already starting on them. The notes you were working on were yanking from under you, the coach reading over them.

He scoffed at your note of possibly skipping a practice. “Are you serious?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Take a break?! These boys are on the brink of a skillful breakthrough, and you want to stop them?!”

You closed in on yourself at the yells, trying to focus on the ref sheets. He continued yelling and berating you for the notes you made. You could feel the teams stares on you, but you also knew they wanted you to learn to stand up for yourself. They had been giving you a few minutes to try and collect yourself and if nothing happened they would step in.

It only took seconds for you to finally break down, sobbing into your hands as the coach’s yelling reached a breaking point. The team took very time to act then and there.

Oikawa and Kyoutani were snapping and growling, pushing him back and away from you while Hajime slid onto his knees in front of you, pulling you to his chest and kissing your bond mark. He rocked you side to side, purring and letting you cry.

You sobbed and sobbed while the coach tried backtracking, but it was too late. The pack was on defense. One of them was in danger and they were going to make sure they all were safe.

___

You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you wake up, your in Hajime’s arms, which are wrapped tight around your waist.

Oikawa was on the other side of you, head on Hajime’s thigh, Makki and Mattsun were cuddling together a little to the left of you. Kyoutani was closest to you (He had a soft spot for you, almost like you were another older sister to him). You ran a hand through his hair for a moment before taking a deep breath in and out. The rest of the team was scattered in the puppy pile around you, and the gym was dark.

In fact, everything was dark. There were chairs propped up by the door, just in case you supposed, and there were jackets littered everywhere. Your heart fluttered at the thought.

Hajime’s arms subconsciously tightened around you, luring you back into sleep.

You, your alpha, and your pack.

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goddess-evelle · 3 years ago

Text

We are here for you

Someone requested this:

Yoo thought of a idea hear me out

Poly dream team x fm y/n

Okay so y/n is having a really bad week like really really bad, and when she gets home to the boys she has like the biggest mental breakdown, she throws things, she shouts a whole load of crap, once she is done shouting and breaking things she hudles in a ball and starts crying.

The boys try to calm her down while also dogging all the things she is throwing they try yelling her name but she can't hear them since she in like her 'own little world'. They leave her for a bit and they have a little talk to try and figure out what happened to her.

By the time she has calmed down she talks to the boys and it turn into a really heartwarming cute ass fluff.

Please can you do this pleaseeee😖

Warnings: Just fluffy

Dream team x fem reader

Okay, so I am not the best at writing fluff, but I gave it a try. <3

Your head banged on the table in front of you. You just got home from college. Your professor had given yet another essay. You were so tired of written essays. You had 5 essays to do, and while you had 2 of them started; they were so much trouble to write. You just wanted to lay in bed for 5 minutes minimum; you just needed to close your eyes for 5 minutes. You had been working so much; barely sleeping so that you could take advantage of the few hours the night provided. Your mind had been too busy thinking of themes to write about. The professor really thought that having a book helped; that only mad you want to slap him. Of course, it’s easier with a book; if he hadn’t given 3 books for 3 of the essays. The problem was that your other 2 professors thought the same thing giving you 2 more books to do the other two essays. You rolled your eyes as you tried to think of how to start the essay. Your eyes lighted up as a thought ran through your mind. Your hands moved quickly on the keyboard as you chased the idea squeezing the juice, and writing as much as you could. Your mind flowed as you wrote for what felt like hours. Your hands becoming numb by the time you finished.

You let out a sigh as you stretched limbs separating as your bones cracked. You looked at the hour 5:45 am you hadn’t even realized it was that early; you started at 11:13 pm working on the essay, so naturally you were a little tired, but you knew better than going to sleep. Thanks to those extra hours you were able to complete two essays which meant you only needed to finish two more, and you would be free to do whatever you wanted. You headed to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee. However, when you reached the kitchen; the boys were standing right next to the coffee maker. You try to breathe as a you try to relax; spending many hours in front of the computer had given you a migraine. You close your eyes tightly as you gulped making your way to the coffee maker. Before you could even touch it; George’s hand came to stop you.

“You can’t just drink coffee all day; you have to sleep” George starts, and you can only roll your eyes. You didn’t have time for this; you just wanted to finish your essays you already had 3 done. You just needed an extra cup of coffee to finish the other 2 essays. You did not have time to be talking right now you had to finish your essays.

“I just want a cup of coffee; it’s no big deal. I just need to finish two of my essays” You say trying to keep your voice low; even though your mind rushed with angry thoughts. Why did they have to interfere in your life? It annoyed you; they didn’t even know how it felt to be surrounded by essays and projects.

“You took three cups of coffee yesterday; I saw you. You have to sleep; you’ve been drinking coffee none stop, and you are not even eating properly” Dream spoke up this time only making you angrier.

“I can’t sleep yet!” You yelled out before being able to stop yourself. “I have two more essays to finish; I just need to keep going, and I will be fine. I will eat after I finish them. I just really need to finish it.” You say voice desperate for some coffee your eyes could barely stay opened. The boys knew what a lack of sleep could do to a person that is why they tried to let you be, but it had gone too far. They had tried to make you eat something, but you refused saying that you didn’t have time. They were scared that you would get sick for not taking care of yourself properly.

“Y/n just please take a break. Your other two essays are due Friday, right? It’s Tuesday; I’m sure you have enough time to finish them.” Sapnap tried to help, but you only saw red.

“I have to finish them now! My mind is just working so fast; I finished three essays already. My mind is just flowing with ideas. I need to finish them now.” You said voice getting louder and louder as they didn’t give you what you wanted.

“We will not let you go back to writing unless you sleep for at least 8 hours” Dream started.

“And- you have to eat at least three meals during the day” Sapnap added trying to persuade you into giving in. You didn’t have any of it; eyes seeing red as you throw your coffee mug to the ground. The ceramic breaking instantly.

“I will not go to sleep! I just need coffee, and I will be good to go! Just get out of my fucking way!” You were completely yelling, and you could only think of the coffee. You pushed pass George as you got to the coffee maker only for Dream to snap it from your hold. Strong arm holding the coffee maker so that you couldn’t use it.

“The fuck are you doing?! Give it! I need the coffee” You said as you yanked the coffee maker towards you; Dream however, did not let go. A few seconds passed as you tried to get the coffee maker; only for Dream’s hand to slip as the coffee maker came crashing to the ground. You stared angrily at the shattered coffee maker that was pretty much useless now. Your body had taken too much as you slide to the ground looking at the coffee maker. Your mind rushed with thoughts as you began crying; the stress from college being too much. You cried to your heart’s content; you looked at Dream before standing from your spot on the floor saying:

“Why the fuck would you do that? Are you fucking stupid?” The words leaving your lips without a second thought as you confronted Dream; now coming chest to chest with him as you looked up at him rage taking over your actions. Your mind being too caught up on the stress to even think. Dream talked to you, but you didn’t even hear what he said.

“I’ve had enough of this. You will go to the bedroom, and you will sleep! I do not care what you want you have to sleep” Dream spoke to you his words being rough as he talked to you. He was done with this he could not let you treat yourself this way; you were hurting yourself for some stupid essays. You moved closer to him as your mind is blank; not even a single thought of what he just said. You knew he was talking, but your mind was too tired to pay attention.

“Y/n please, we don’t want you to get hurt. You could get sick” Sapnap tried, but before he could finish George moved towards you putting a hand on your cheek finally gaining your attention as he said “Exactly, what good are you if you get sick now? You won’t even be able to finish the essays. Just take a break; go sleep, and eat something.” Your eyes widened as you realized what they were saying; they were right; you could get sick, and then you wouldn’t be able to finish the essays. You gave George a small nod as he took you to the bedroom to get you to sleep.

“I swear to god. She always does what George tells her to.” Sapnap grunted being slightly jealous of George’s ability to make you obey him. Dream laughed at Sapnap’s words knowing it was true. George knew how to get you to follow his words.

You opened your eyes to find the boys looking at you. Sapnap had a bowl of food in his hand. While Dream had a water bottle. You sat up as Sapnap handed you the food.

“Thank you” you said, but your mind rushed with what happened earlier. “I am sorry about earlier; I didn’t mean to be rude. I just- I’m just stressed” You said trying to explain yourself.

“We know; it’s okay. We are not mad at you; we just want you to take care of yourself. We love you so much; we don’t want anything bad happening to you.” George said while he engulfed you in a hug.

“We are here to help. You can talk to us about whatever you want. We love you so much; we are here for you” Sapnap said holding your hand. Dream bent down to give you a kiss, and the three of you laid in bed as the boys watched you eat some much-needed food. The night ended with you finishing your two essays as the boys cuddled, and kissed you until you all fell asleep.

#dream x reader #dream team #dream team x reader #sapnap fluff #sapnap x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream fluff #georgenotfound fluff #georgenotfound x reader

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