#i will say noticeable improvement from movie to book:
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silverskye13 · 2 years ago
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I'm reading The Ruins right now and realizing I watched approximately 10 minutes of the movie based on this book. This serves to make the current plot both really, unbearably slow and kind of stupid--
#spazzcat barks#spazzcat reads#its a horror book about killer plants because im doing research for the horror fic about killer sculk i wanna write#this is in theory a good idea except i now know what the monster [plants] is -- since i recognize the movie#im a bit intruiged tbh because i watched enough of the movie to know what The Horrors TM are but not how the mcs make it out#or how many of them die#now im stuck waiting on the characters to Figure Shit Out while becoming increasingly aware of the author's blatant attempts#to make their inevitable deaths tragic#Stacy is nicknamed Space-y because shes haha so random and dumb and Too Pure For This Scenerio#Amy is a horrible pessimist if we listened to her we wouldnt be in this mess -- but by Tragedy Rules b/c shes a pessimist we dont listen#xyz guy characters who want to be doctors or teachers who had their whole lives ahead of them etc etc#i will say noticeable improvement from movie to book:#in the movie this takes place in somewhere vaguely tropical [amazon] with wild angry natives trapping the MCs#it was incredibly random and incredibly racist#in the book the Mayans in a Described Location (not random) have a known language barrier#and it is Stacy (Space-y) panicking coupled with the language barrier that puts the MCs in contact with the Evil Monster Plants#and the Mayans knowing these kids are doomed now force them to stay in monster plants to keep them from spreading from a Contained Location#it makes logical sense and isnt steeped in terrible racism#so good for the book i guess
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3hks · 9 months ago
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How to Get Better at Writing Without Actually Writing
Are you looking to improve your writing without needing to write? I'll admit, I am definitely that kind of person--I have the hardest time even finding something interesting to write--despite that, I have noticed that my writing has vastly improved over the past year or two when it was hardly a hobby, and here's how I did it!
ANALYZE DIFFERENT WORKS
Yes yes, everyone tells you to READ, READ, and READ, even I will agree. However, unlike what some people tell you, you don't actually have to read all those classics like Heart of Darkness or The Hobbit. Of course, those books are very beneficial, but if you find no interest in those types of books (like me), then don't read them!
If you prefer reading casual stories posted by online authors, whether it be a fanfiction or their own, original story, it still qualifies as reading! As long as you are able to find a work that you particularly enjoy, that's all you need!
When reading, the key to improving at writing is to always study the story. Take a moment to look at certain words or phrases that stick out to you. How does the author use them? What do they mean? Keep track of the characters' development and how it affects them. Additionally, note things like powerful scenes, dialogue, and more to have an idea of how you can create something just as impactful. For example, if a text made you cry, think about how and why you reacted like that. This can actually help you re-create events that hold the same effectiveness, if not more!
To add on, if you really dislike reading just that much, then you can always analyze things like shows, movies, etc. However, this will prove to be less efficient because you often don't get access to the text behind the shows. Still, it's a good way to study the plot, characters, character developments, dialogue, and relationships!
2. PROOFREADING
No, I'm not saying that you should be an editor; this actually ties back to my first tip. Remember how I said that if you don't want to read classics, then don't? Well, this is because forcing yourself to read them is completely unnecessary (unless you like them or want to write like the author, of course). As a matter of fact, reading poorly written stories can be very helpful for improvement!
When we read books or novels that have obvious grammar errors, repetitive words, and choppy sentences, we will realize these mistakes and point them out to ourselves. Being able to scout out faults means that we are able to learn from them and grow! Noticing these things will also help prevent you from making the same or similar mistakes!
3. STUDY TIPS ONLINE
I used to go search up websites on Google whenever I wanted help with a certain topic. Of course, not all of the sites are reliable and/or helpful, but some point out good ideas that a couple of us just need! This can be especially useful regarding the things that we are unfamiliar with when writing. They can offer a base foundation and tips on how to start and finish!
They can also serve as a great inspiration for fresh ideas and new perspectives!
Yes, these three tips are pretty simple; however, I have found that they work very well for me! People vary from person-to-person, so it can't be guaranteed the same effect, but this is the best I got! HAPPY VALENTINES DAY! <3
Happy writing~
3hks :)
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rad-batson · 1 year ago
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The Batkids and The Arts (Feral Edition)
They’re all musical theatre nerds. Every single one of them. Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Cass, Jason, Steph, Tim, Duke, Damian. They go see Broadway shows together then don’t stop talking about it for like a week. It is the one bonding activity they will never pass up.
Jason and Steph once entered a ballroom dancing competition and won after some pompous rich kids insulted their moves during a gala. Since then, they’ve entered a competition every month or so just for fun. (And for the prize money :P)
Tim is an avid believer that Culinary Art is one of The Arts. (Can he cook? Absolutely not. It was Bernard that convinced him, but he stands by it.)
Duke talks through every single movie he watches. He always promises to be quiet at the beginning, but then he gets too excited and whispers commentary to the people around him. This habit has since bled into the entire family. They are no longer welcome at the local AMC.
Every single one of them is pretentious about something.
Dick is pretentious about any and all performance arts featured at the circus. Once, someone made a joke about going to “Clown School” and Dick screamed at them about how not even their pinky would have the privilege of being admitted into clown school.
Jason is pretentious about classic literature. They can no longer tell if his jokes and references to Shakespeare and Jane Austen are correct or if he’s just fucking with them.
Cass gets pretentious about martial arts being a performance art. She is also pretentious about ballet being a martial art. She could kill a man in fifth position without losing her balance, and that’s a fucking fact.
Stephanie is very good at acting pretentious about the arts. She absorbs everything she’s learned from the rest of the bat family’s interests then pretends to be pretentious about it to mock them while sneaking in just enough correct information so no one can call her out on it. (Her true interest is graphic design.)
Tim has no professional experience with photography, but he will be pretentious about it like he knows everything. (Bruce: Tim, why is there a filter on this evidence photo you took? Tim: I thought it looked nicer that way. Really makes the blood splatter pop.)
Duke isn’t exactly pretentious about writing, but he will lay down his life for the Oxford comma. (Bruce didn’t use it until Duke called the punctuation in his mission reports “insulting.” He now uses it.)
Damian is pretentious about studio art. If he ever hears his family or friends say, “I don’t get it,” at an art museum, he will make them look at it for five minutes as he explains in painstaking detail what’s so revolutionary about it.
The kids decided to take an improv class together once for their undercover work while Bruce and Alfred were out of town. It was so fun that they still play improv games when they’re bored.
Cass is secretly a metalhead.
Whenever one of the younger kids needs to write an English paper, they will just walk up to Jason, riddle off a dumb opinion about the book or poem they had to read, and record whatever Jason ends up lecturing them about. The most recent incident resulted in an award-winning paper about how the theory that William Shakespeare never wrote his own work is deeply rooted in classism.
Damian always has paint under his nails. It just never comes out.
Dick has personally taught everyone in the family how to do The Perfect Backflip. They all get a little ceremony once they’ve mastered it. There is cake.
Whenever Cass is standing around with nothing to do, she’ll practice her foot positions for ballet. The others always notice and follow her lead.
Jason: dramatically recites a poem in the living room Steph: starts beatboxing
Steph is always the first to find typos or continuity errors in a book, play, or movie. She doesn’t intend to; it’s just second nature to her. (She is now Duke’s official proofreader.)
Duke: So how’d you like the movie? Damian: I really loved the mise-en-scène, especially during the breakfast scene and that one shot near the end with the warehouse doors. Duke: *nods thoughtfully* Everyone Else Leaving the Theater: wtf is a meez on sen?
When Duke is finished writing something and wants to share it with his family, he’ll give it to Jason and Cass first.
Jason and Duke have frequent passionate arguments discussions about who is the best poet. Never bring up Dickinson, Poe, Shakespeare, Hughes, Plath, Wilde, Kipling, Sappho, or Angelou in their vicinity unless you want to start it up again.
Damian is surprisingly good at acting. Too good.
Dick knows your music taste before you do. He has a carefully curated playlist for every single family member, every possible combination of family members, and every possible mood at the ready.
They can and will correct anyone who mistakes Gothic architecture for Victorian or Gothic Revival and vice versa. (It’s really a Gotham thing.)
Tim: How dare you call The Grand Budapest Hotel the best prison break movie when it’s clearly The Shawshank Redemption! Jason: Well, as someone who’s BEEN TO PRISON, I think I should know! Dick: It’s clearly Chicken Run! You’re all just Chicken-ist. Duke: But what about Midnight Express?! That one’s so good! Steph: Has anyone mentioned Toy Story 3 yet? No? Damian, watching from the sidelines: I liked Escape from Alcatraz. Cass: Same.
There are several art pieces in the manor that have been positioned directly over top of bullet holes and other suspicious damages.
Damian and Duke made an animated short film once for the Gotham Film Festival. Dick and Cass were their models for the concept art. Tim did historical research. Jason helped Duke edit the storyboard, and Steph was the continuity supervisor. It was about a British super spy working for MI6 that saved the world in the late 70’s. It was titled Agent A.
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ghostflowerhotpotch · 1 year ago
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You know I had seen some headcanons about ghostflower as parents, and here is a bit of my take on that.
Miles is the responsible dad, Gwen is the fun mom.
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And that assumption has entirely to do with this.
Yep, I think the roles would be reversed for them, hear me out.
Miles was raised by loving and present parents, they have room for improvement but I don't doubt that Jeff and Rio knew how to establish healthy boundaries, knew when to be strict and when to be more permissive, and are all overall supportive, amazing parents.
Now, the thing about Gwen's parents-
Mom we know nothing, Gwen's mom is never mentioned in the spider-verse movies and again, I haven't read all of her comics, but if that woman was mentioned I don't remember. I normally assume she died when Gwen was very young so she doesn't have too many memories of her.
This leaves us with George.
So, I don't think George is the worst, I have my issues and I would scream at him until he goes deaf- but you can see at the end that he loves Gwen, and while he doesn't know what he is doing, he is trying.
We haven't seen much of him, but what did I notice?
He is not good with emotional intelligence; he doesn't realize that telling Gwen how the case is doing will not make her feel better (and it has to be a while since Peter died, he should know this by now.) Clearly doesn't know what to say to cheer her up. Tries to talk about his job and his duty when he doesn't know how to proceed.
And then he leaves because there was an emergency with the police; and is obvious this is not a rare occurrence. As someone who was basically raised by a single parent doing a lot of hours at work, I can tell you by this interaction that Gwen probably spend hours or entire nights alone.
So, how does translate to their parent styles?
Miles would feel a lot more confident in his role as a parent, he would definitely read a lot of books and would have his parents on speed dial; but Miles he is also a natural. He would thinking back on how his parents raise him, looking back in their decisions and understanding where they are coming from, and overall end up finding a middle point between how he grew up, and what he thinks is right for him and his family.
I will share what he does when the kids are older while sharing Gwen's approach.
Gwen on the other hand? Extremely anxious, Miles needed to reassure her a lot specially at the beginning. She can barely remember her mom, and her dad wasn't the most present. While I think by this point the relationship between her and Miles's parents would be better, I think part of her would also be afraid looking incompetent in comparison to Rio.
Later when the kids are older, Gwen defaults more to let the kids play and do things that they probably shouldn't "Is just one day/night," "Oh when I was their age I was trying to imitate the gymnasts on the TV, at least they are a lot more resistant that I was!" and "Hmmm, maybe this is something we should ask your father too."
Gwen's laxer approach was thanks to not being heavily supervised and not realizing when is too much at times, or thinking these is one of those things kids should learn and it would be fine.
Thanks to this, Miles is normally the one who needs to more strict and reasonable. "No, we can't have popcorn and ice cream for dinner, it doesn't matter if is Friday and summer is starting"; "I DON'T CARE IF YOU CAN HANDLE FALLING 6 FEET TO THE GROUND, YOU ARE NOT PRACTISING TIGHT ROPE!" and "I told you no, and don't go asking your mother just so she can say yes, I will find out."
Miles is still, the one parent to go when the kids are sad, upset or need to be hear out. While he may be stricter of the two and tries to stop anything that he deems too far; he knows the best how to de-escalate a situation and see reason.
Gwen while a lot of times doesn't know what to do, their kids always go to her when they just need a hug and be comforted. While Gwen a lot of times doesn't know what to say to make things better, or what advice to give; she never shy's away from telling her kids that sometimes they will make mistakes, and she would do too, but that never means they deserve any less love or compassion; no matter how hard the world is or the mistakes they make, Gwen promises to be there at any point, and that Miles and her would never stop loving them.
There is a lot of adjustments and discussions, but they balance it out.
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x0x0josephinex0x0 · 9 months ago
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silly goose | kwon soonyoung
hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii we're back baby. genre is: crack. fake dating sort of. friends to ??? basically in love i guess. everyone is an idiot and it's awesome. warnings: reader is implied to be female, wears a dress, does hair and makeup, reader is briefly followed in a menacing kind of way, soonyoung is literally the most dumbest man ever but in the BEST way, reader's friends are quite honestly the actual worst, there is a rather frightening animal encounter that's mostly just funny but could be triggering if you're afraid of birds, lmk if there's anything else i forgot!!! word count: 8.3k
If one was to look up the definition of disappointment, you’re almost positive they’d see a picture of your mom’s face if she ever found out you were in this situation. You’re disappointed in yourself. It was never your plan to be in a loud, crowded club, smushed up against the bar by two large bikers who are bouncing up and down to the beat of the music so that the spikes on the back of the taller one’s jacket get dangerously close to your eyeball. And yet, here you are.
You desperately search the room for the group of very tipsy women you came here with, but they’re nowhere to be found. Scowling, you start to inch out from behind the bikers into a slightly more open space, but even with your improved vantage point, you don’t see them. You curse. Did they really leave you here?
It’s hard for you to understand why you were even invited to this bachelorette party. The bride is your childhood best friend, but you’ve been out of touch for years. Your lives went in completely different directions after high school, clearly evidenced by the predicament in which you currently find yourself. Where you had never been the life of the party, she seemed to have no life without a party. You found yourself wishing for the thousandth time you could be at home with your books and your remote and your cat.
You decide there’s nothing for it and head outside to try and call your friend. She picks up on the third ring, and her voice is slurred and barely distinguishable over the cacophony of sound in the background of the call. You think she’s saying that they’re taking a bus to a bar across town -- about an hour away from where you are now. To get there, you’d have to call a cab and pay almost $100, or you could walk to your apartment, which is three blocks from here. “I’m going to go home,” you tell her, and she laughs and agrees and hangs up.
You grimace at your phone screen and shiver slightly. It’s a chilly night, and you didn’t bring a jacket, so you decide it’s best if you start walking. The way home is well-lit and relatively crime free, so you aren’t nervous as you set off from the club. 
That is, until you notice someone is tailing you. He’s a taller man, with scruffy facial hair and red-rimmed eyes that scare you. As you glance over your shoulder, he calls after you. “Where are you headed?” he asks.
“Going to meet my boyfriend,” you claim, desperately trying to shake him off. He seems to be picking up speed, slowly gaining on you as you walk, and as you round a corner you see a group of three well-dressed men standing in front of the movie theater just ahead. “That’s him right there,” you say, pointing at them, and the man trailing after you only picks up his speed, so you make the risky choice to jog toward them and grab ahold of the nearest man’s arm. He has his back toward you, but as you wrap your hand around his bicep, he turns to look at you.
Oh, wow, you think. Because you couldn’t have chosen a hotter man to pretend to be your boyfriend -- unless, of course, you were to have chosen either of his friends. It was strange to be surrounded by so many extremely attractive men, almost like interrupting a model meetup. But you quickly recover, smiling at the man whose arm you grabbed and saying, “Hi, honey.”
You try to communicate with your eyes, and though the man at first looks confused, he glances over your head and sees the man who’d been following you and his eyes light with understanding. “Hello, muffin!” he shouts far too loudly. 
You wince. Muffin? you think to yourself. But still, you can’t help but be amused as he puts an arm around you and sends an angry look at the man. “This is my girlfriend,” he yells at him.
“You’re being way too obvious, dude,” one of your fake boyfriend’s friends hisses at him. 
“I call BS,” the stalker says, to your horror and surprise. “What’s her name?”
“Mildred,” your fake boyfriend says with no hesitation. 
You try not to let the shock of this answer register on your face. 
The stalker hesitates. “Is he really your boyfriend, Mildred?”
You bite your lip to keep from laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. “Uh, yep.”
“Oh, okay then,” the stalker says. The three of you stare at each other for awhile before he turns around and leaves. 
“I cannot believe that worked,” one of your fake boyfriend’s friends says, smacking his forehead. 
“Remind me never to call you in a crisis,” the other one says, chuckling.
“What do you mean?” your fake boyfriend says indignantly. He looks at you, as though wanting your opinion, his arms still around you. “I feel like we nailed that.”
You can’t help but smile at him. He really is unfairly pretty, with perfectly tousled black hair, an artful slit in one eyebrow, and a smile that has you wondering if maybe you do believe in love at first sight. “Thanks for helping me out,” you say, so you don’t have to lie and agree that he nailed it. “Do I really look like a Mildred, though?”
“Mildred is a lovely name,” he says matter-of-factly. “And you are lovely.”
You laugh, feeling a little hot around the collar. “And what’s your name?” you ask him, holding out your hand for him to shake.
He takes it and shakes it with a warm smile. “I’m Soonyoung,” he says. He releases you from his grip with a small shake, as though reminding himself to do it. As if he’d gotten lost in you for a second.
“Soonyoung,” you repeat. “And your friends?”
“Seungkwan,” the shorter of the two others says.
“Seokmin,” the taller one replies. 
“Soonyoung, Seungkwan, Seokmin,” you chant. “Well, thanks so much for your help, guys. I need to get home to my cat.”
“By yourself?” Seokmin says in a worried tone.
“In the dark?” Seungkwan follows, equally worried.
“Without a jacket?” Soonyoung says, his brow furrowed in concern.
“Well...” you say. “It’s not very far.”
“How far?” Seungkwan asks.
You hesitate. “How do I know you’re not serial killers?”
They all blink at you. “Us?” Seokmin asks.
“We’re idiots,” Soonyoung says sincerely. 
They all nod in agreement. “Seriously. If we were serial killers, we’d be caught in no time,” Seungkwan says.
“Let us walk you home,” Soonyoung insists. “I want to meet your cat.”
You’re still a bit nervous, but they keep a respectful distance as they walk you down the next two and a half blocks to your apartment building. You quickly realize that they weren’t lying. 
They are actually idiots.
The entire fifteen minute walk, Seungkwan and Seokmin are arguing about whether or not tomatoes are a fruit, culminating in Soonyoung opining that if tomatoes are a fruit, ketchup is a smoothie. The other two are (understandably) outraged by this, leaving you comforted that you actually could probably take all three of them in a fight at once, seeing as how they all seem to share one single brain cell. 
There’s something so endearing about their banter, though. So much so that when you finally arrive at the apartment, you find yourself asking if they want to come in for a minute and escape the chilly weather.
“Are you sure?” Seokmin asks.
“Positive. I have some instant ramen we could make, too. Just to warm you up. As a thank you for getting me home safe.”
They look at each other and then nod. “We’d love to,” Seungkwan says. 
So you lead them up to your door on the third floor. “Your apartment is so cute!” Soonyoung exclaims, admiring the pretty crocheted decorations that line your walls. “I love these.”
“Thanks,” you say. “I made them.”
He looks at you in awe. “You did? That’s so cool!”
“I’m glad you think so,” you say with a smile. 
“What do you do for work?” Soonyoung asks you.
“I’m a social worker,” you tell him. “I work with families in tough situations. Help them get their feet under them.”
“Do you work for the government, then?” asks Seungkwan.
“Make yourself at home,” you tell the three of them, who are standing awkwardly in the entry. As they settle onto the couch, you explain, “I actually work for a subcontractor of the government. We’re a nonprofit. On weekends, we also do a soup kitchen, and help run food banks throughout the county.”
“That must be very fulfilling work,” Seokmin points out. “Do you like it? I hear it can be tiring.”
“It’s good, but I don’t get paid enough,” you admit. “And before you ask, I do have a roommate. She’s just in the hospital. Appendicitis.”
They all wince, and Seungkwan hums sympathetically. You head to your pantry and rummage around looking for the instant ramen, finally locating it and putting a pan on the stove with water. Meanwhile, the guys find your box full of games and pull out the Monopoly. “We should play this!” Seokmin says. 
Seungkwan laughs. “We just met her, and you already want to ruin our friendship?”
Soonyoung pulls out a deck of cards. “How about Scum?”
The three of them set up the game while you make the ramen, and by the time you’re all served up all the cards have been dealt. You watch them over your own bowl of ramen, amused at the gusto with which they eat and heartwarmed by their compliments. You’re generally a bit of an introvert, but even you have been lonely the past few days with your roommate gone, and the unexpected company is warm, inviting, and friendly.
Until Scum begins. Unbeknownst to you, this group of three is the most cutthroat, merciless group of players who have ever lived. Their competition knows no bounds, and they seem determined to destroy each other, by whatever means necessary. “Don’t worry,” Seokmin whispers conspiratorially to you while Soonyoung and Seungkwan argue tooth-and-nail about a minor rule of the game. “They’re always like this, but they really do love each other.”
It takes all of them by surprise when you are the first to get rid of your cards, guaranteeing you the “king” spot. “That came out of nowhere!” complains Seungkwan.
You shrug. “I’m good with strategy games. Never challenge me to a game of Settlers of Catan,” you joke. 
Just then, your cat pokes his head around the corner and mewls reproachfully at all the noise you’re making. “Hi!” Soonyoung says excitedly, quickly dropping his cards to head over to the cat, making little cooing noises at him as he strokes his soft orange fur. “What’s its name?”
“He’s a he,” you tell him. “And his name is Tiger.”
The three men all freeze and look at you. “What?” you ask, looking around at them in worry.
“No way,” Soonyoung breathes.
Seungkwan groans. “You’ve really done it now.”
“What did I do?” you ask, bewildered.
“That’s like, the forbidden word,” Seokmin says, his tone apologetic.
Your eyes land on Soonyoung, whose entire face has lit up. “I love tigers,” he says, looking on the verge of tears.
“Love is an understatement,” Seungkwan says. “He is about to ask for your hand in marriage.”
“Will you marry me?” Soonyoung asks immediately afterward, making you laugh. His hands are still gently cupping Tiger’s face, his thumbs rubbing the cat’s fur back tenderly.
“I barely know you, Soonyoung,” you remind him. “You’ll have to pretend to be my boyfriend a couple more times before I’ll agree to marriage.”
“Bet,” Soonyoung says. “This cat needs a father. There’s nothing sadder than a fatherless cat.”
You privately disagreed, but it makes you laugh again all the same. “When am I ever going to need you to pretend to be my boyfriend?”
Soonyoung tsks. “I’m sure we could think of something.”
But almost as soon as you’d asked the question, you remembered: the wedding.
Your friend’s wedding -- the one who’d abandoned you tonight. And the one who, against your wishes, had invited your horrible ex-boyfriend. You’d had a plus-one — your roommate, who you’d enlisted to make the entire event endurable. But last-minute, her sister had needed help babysitting her daughter while she went to a divorce hearing on the day of the wedding. The wedding was in two weeks, and you didn’t have a backup date. 
Soonyoung watches in satisfaction as your face falls. “Tell me,” he says. “How can I be of service?”
“Well…you can say no,” you preface, and he chuckles. “But...” 
You launch into the story of the night. Soonyoung, Seungkwan, and Seokmin listen well throughout it, making noises of exasperation and annoyance as you explain why you’d had to interrupt their evening by pretending to be Soonyoung’s girlfriend. “They really left you there?” Soonyoung asks, frowning. He seems to tire of crouching by Tiger, so he sits crosslegged on the ground. You watch carefully as Tiger gingerly climbs into Soonyoung’s lap -- something it took him almost a year to do with you. Tiger is an affectionate and social cat, but he does take some time to warm up, usually. But something about Soonyoung seems to have put him at ease. Soonyoung doesn’t even seem to notice, absently massaging his fingers into Tiger’s neck fur.
“They really did,” you finally reply, oddly touched by the sight of Soonyoung with your cat.
“You need better friends,” Seungkwan says indignantly.
You give him a weak smile. “You’re probably right about that. But I already said I’d go, and they’ve planned for me. So it’d be bad to back out now.” You sigh. “It would be so nice to have someone to go with who’s friendly. And you can totally say no if that’s too much awkwardness to put up with for an evening.”
“Well, I have no problems with going if it means I get to spend more time with your cat in between now and then,” Soonyoung says, tickling Tiger’s stomach and giggling as Tiger swats at his fingers.
“You can always come see my cat whenever you want,” you promise him. “Even if you say no.”
“Really?” he asks, sounding thrilled. “I mean, I’m saying yes, though.”
You let out a deep breath. “Thank you so much. You’re such a lifesaver.”
“I know. Imagine the poor decisions this cat would’ve made if I hadn’t decided to be his dad.”
“I resent the implication that I am a horrible mother who can’t raise a cat to be a good citizen who makes positive contributions to society.”
“Yeah, you psycho, respect this single mother!” Seungkwan says, smacking Soonyoung’s arm.
“Well, you’re partially right,” you admit with a laugh. “Tiger is a war criminal with warrants in 32 countries.”
Soonyoung laughs as well. “See! Fatherless behavior.”
“Plenty of cats grow up to be respectable without fathers,” you say indignantly. “Just not Tiger. He’s possessed of a devil.”
The four of you all have a good laugh about this, while Tiger chirps indignantly at the sudden sound, clambering out of Soonyoung’s lap and darting down the hallway. “Traitor!” Soonyoung calls after him, heading back to the card table to finish playing. 
By the time the trio bows themselves out of your apartment, you feel warm and sleepy. It’s been a long time since you’ve had people over to your house and enjoyed it — you had forgotten how nice it was.
******
“Hey there,” you greet your friend Ginger, who waves at you from her hospital bed. 
“Hi,” she says back. “How was the bachelorette party?”
“A complete disaster, as predicted,” you tell her, pulling up a chair next to her bed. “When are you coming home?”
“Tonight, if things go well,” she informs you. “But you said you had something to tell me. Is it good or bad?”
“It’s good,” you say with a shy smile.
“How good?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Like, weird-good.”
“Explain.”
“I found a date for tomorrow.”
Her eyes go wide. “You caught someone’s eye? During the bachelorette party?”
“No, after. Well, actually, the guy whose eye I caught was a total creep. But then I forced a different dude to be my fake boyfriend to shake off the first dude, and he agreed to be my date to the wedding.”
“Is he gonna pretend to be your boyfriend there too?” she asks, a suggestive edge to her voice.
“I don’t think so. I mean, we just talked about him coming with me so I wouldn’t have to go alone.”
“How did that even come up?” she asks you.
“Well, they kind of walked me home...”
“They?”
“There were three of them initially,” you explain apologetically.
“You let three random strangers walk you home?”
“Well, they openly admitted to being idiots when I asked if they were serial killers, so I thought it was probably safe.”
“You’re an idiot,” Ginger says dryly.
“Anyway, Soonyoung -- the one who’s gonna be my date -- wanted to meet Tiger. Because he loves tigers. And then it kind of devolved into playing Scum, and then Soonyoung claimed that if he just spent more time with Tiger he’d stop committing dastardly crimes every chance he gets. And then he asked if I’d need a fake boyfriend so that he could help me raise my cat right, and it was this whole thing, and now that I’m telling you the story it sounds really dumb but it was kind of sweet.”
Ginger is staring at you with raised eyebrows during this whole account. When you finally clam up, she sighs. “So, I hate to be the person to have to tell you this, but Soonyoung is actually in love with you.”
“What?” you gasp. “Why do you think that?”
“He is using your cat to get closer to you because he’s too scared to really ask you out because he really likes you.”
“I’m not sure that’s true. You should’ve seen his face when he heard the cat was named Tiger.”
Ginger rolls her eyes. “Girl, I know more about men than I care to admit. This is textbook crush behavior.” She grunts as she adjusts her position. “And I think you like him back, too.”
“I barely know him,” you protest, heat rising in your cheeks.
“Is he hot?” she asks shrewdly.
“Yes,” you answer, without hesitation or even a single iota of forethought. You cringe at your own obviousness, and Ginger laughs.
“It’s okay,” she reassures. “But how hot?”
You consider for a while before answering. “It’s hard to describe,” you complain, feeling more and more uncomfortable the longer it takes. “He’s...pretty.”
“A pretty boy?” Ginger repeats.
“No, like, he doesn’t look dainty -- but he’s not rugged or anything. But he doesn’t exactly look soft either. But he’s not quite all the way to edgy.” You realize you’re rambling once you catch sight of Ginger’s face.
Ginger shakes her head. “You’re a goner,” she sighs.
Conveniently, your phone starts buzzing before you can respond -- not that you really had a response anyway. It’s an unknown number, but you decide to answer it. “Hello?” you say. 
“Hi,” a familiar voice chirps on the other end. Your eyes go wide, and you mouth “Soonyoung” to Ginger, who is observing curiously.
“Hi!!!” you respond back, and then wince -- you were a little too eager, and Ginger makes a face at you too. You resolve to be much cooler going forward, and take a deep breath to steady yourself.
“Hi,” he says again, this time sounding amused. “What’s up?”
“Hi. Um, nothing much,” you reply. “What’s up with you?” Wow, what a zinger! you think to yourself. Why did you choose this moment to become an awkward fumbling mess?
“Well, I’m near your apartment, and I was wondering if you were home. I missed Tiger, you see.”
“Ah,” you say. “Well, um, I’m actually...out right now?” Your voice raises a few notes too high at the end of your phrase, and Ginger is pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation, trying to fight back a laugh.
“Ah, that’s bad luck. Where are you?” Soonyoung asks.
“I’m just visiting my roommate in the hospital,” you say, confused as Ginger frantically shakes her head and makes an X with her hands. 
“Tell him you were just leaving and you’ll be there soon,” she hisses, pushing you with her foot off of her hospital bed. 
“Oh, how is she doing?” Soonyoung asks. “Is she feeling better?”
“She’s absolutely fine,” you grunt, trying to fend off Ginger’s attacks and failing, slumping off the bed onto the floor. “I was actually on my way home, though. Do you have time to wait?” You stand and snatch your bag from off the small table in the room and stick your tongue out at Ginger, who blows you a kiss and waves enthusiastically as you leave.
“Yes,” Soonyoung responds immediately. “Actually, are you hungry? I brought some chicken.”
“I’m actually starving,” you answer honestly. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
True to your word, you sprint all the way out of the hospital and almost all the way home, stopping around the corner to your place to try and catch your breath and look cool when you see Soonyoung. Ginger’s words bounce around your brain in a disconcerting way, and you feel like you’re sweaty and flustered in a way that no amount of time stalling could really fix. So you decide to just bite the bullet and turn the corner. 
You can see Soonyoung waiting at the door to your apartment building. When he catches sight of you, his whole face lights up in a smile. And oh, what a smile it is. You have to physically restrain yourself from squealing at how obscenely adorable he is -- his eyes softening into crescents, his cheeks going all round and his nose scrunching just slightly. You can’t help but smile back as you finally reach him. “Hey,” you say, going for a breezy, cool vibe and missing the mark embarrassingly.
“Hi,” Soonyoung says, and to your comfort, he sounds just as eager as you did on the phone. “Um, how was the walk?”
“It was great! Super chill, super lowkey,” you lie through your teeth, thinking about how you had sprinted in a very not-chill, not-lowkey way to come see him. 
“That’s good!” he exclaims back.
“What were you doing near my house?” you ask, leading him toward the door.
“Oh, well, actually, I had to go visit this restaurant my friend works at,” he says, stuttering a little. “And he actually made extra chicken, so I thought -- well, and I knew you lived close by, so I thought it would be fun if we...I don’t know, got to know each other before the wedding?” He shrugs cutely. 
“You can just say you wanted to see my cat,” you tease, pressing the elevator button.
“I did, on the phone,” he reminds you.
“Oh,” you say.
“Oh,” he replies.
The two of you stare at each other for a minute.
Then, Soonyoung says, “Why are we so awkward?”
He doesn’t sound worried -- he even has a laugh in his voice. And for some reason, the easiness with which he addresses the strange tension in the air seems to dissipate it a bit. 
“I’m sorry,” you say with a laugh. “I’m not very good with surprises. I never know how to react. But I’m very glad you’re here.” Finally, the sincerity of the words shines through, and though you normally would’ve been embarrassed at the admission, you aren’t.
He smiles that brilliant smile yet again, and your heart does a little happy-dance in your chest. “Me too,” he replies fervently. 
“What do you do for work?” you ask him as the two of you board the elevator. “I never asked, before.”
“Oh, that. I’m actually a kindergarten teacher,” he tells you.
You are gobsmacked at this information. “You don’t look like a teacher,” you tell him.
“Oh yeah? What do I look like?” he asks, striking a ridiculous pose. 
You giggle. “A rockstar, maybe. Or a band manager.”
“Thank you, I think,” Soonyoung says.
“You’re welcome,” you say with emphasis. “It was a compliment.”
The two of you chat aimlessly all the way into your apartment, where Soonyoung immediately starts calling for Tiger. “Your daddy’s home,” he bellows into the empty apartment. “Where are you, son?”
You absolutely know the neighbors must have heard him, but your brief embarrassment is soothed when Tiger comes tearing around the corner, coming to a screeching halt at Soonyoung’s feet. “He never does that,” you say, in awe of this overt affection from your normally skittish-around-strangers cat. 
“He knows who I am,” Soonyoung says, bending down to pick up Tiger and cradle him in his arms like a baby. “My son,” he coos, tickling his belly and laughing when Tiger bats at his fingers with his paws.
You catch yourself before Soonyoung can tear his attention away from Tiger, knowing you were probably staring at them with heart-eyes. Shaking yourself, you open the box of chicken Soonyoung left on the counter. “Do you mind? I actually haven’t eaten today.”
Soonyoung’s gaze snaps to you. “It’s like four in the afternoon!” he exclaims indignantly. “What do you mean, you haven’t eaten today?”
“Well, I woke up kind of late, and then I was running around doing important errands, and then I had to go see my friend,” you explain. “I kind of forgot.”
He tsks in annoyance. “Well, you need to take care of yourself too. How am I supposed to co-parent this cat with you if you pass away from malnutrition?”
“You are so dramatic,” you laugh. “This doesn’t happen very often. I promise I’m a regular eater.”
He eyes you suspiciously. “Okay. You’d better be.”
You dig into the chicken while you watch Soonyoung play with Tiger. “Holy cow!” you exclaim. “This is amazing.”
“I’ll tell my friend you said so. You should go to his restaurant, it’s right across the street from you.”
“I definitely will,” you say, taking a seat at the table and patting the chair next to you. “But I think it’s time for your interview.”
“Interview?” he asks.
You nod. “I’m not about to just let the first cat-loving man I come across be Tiger’s father. I need to see if you’re prepared for the role.”
So Soonyoung, giving you a cautious look, comes to sit beside you with Tiger trotting after him. “Okay, what do you want to know?”
“What’s your favorite color?” you ask him.
“That’s hardly a standard interview question,” he protests, laughing. 
“This is hardly a standard interview,” you shoot back. “Now tell me.”
He thinks for a minute. “Black and white.”
“Hmm, interesting,” you muse, but before you can go any further, he raises a hand.
“How about you?” he asks.
“I’m asking the questions!” you say indignantly, and he chuckles.
“Okay, but shouldn’t I know my son’s mother?” He makes a face. “That sounded weird. You know what I meant.”
You stare at him, considering, for awhile before answering. “Orange,” you finally reply. Then, in a teasing tone, you add, “Like a tiger.” 
“You’re joking,” Soonyoung insists, his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide. 
“I’m actually not,” you admit. “And can I confess something else: tigers are easily in my top five favorite animals.”
“Well, anything lower than number one is just bad taste,” Soonyoung claims, grinning.
“Ah, well, I guess we can’t all have entirely correct opinions,” you sigh. “Except you, of course.”
“You’re such a fast learner,” Soonyoung praises.
And on the conversation goes. Usually, when talking to someone as pretty as Soonyoung is, you find yourself tongue-tied and awkward, but talking with Soonyoung is as easy as breathing. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the man seems to have no idea how gorgeous he is -- he doesn’t take himself too seriously, and is incredibly silly in a way most men of his level of attractiveness aren’t willing to be. And he makes you feel smart and interesting, appearing just as fascinated by your answers as you are with his.
Over the course of your conversation, you learn that Soonyoung is close with his mother; he loves all animals; he befriends strangers on public transportation and is a caring and loyal friend to so many people he can hardly keep track of them all. He can’t drink very well, he gets sad late at night, and when you ask him what he’s most proud of, he tells you that he always knows who the killer is in a game of mafia.
Try as you might to discover any red flags that would disqualify Soonyoung as the perfect father for your cat, your interview proves quite the opposite. The less-than-rational wing of your mind-palace is already picking out your wedding colors for the inevitable moment you marry this man. The less feral part of your mind is, surprisingly, cautiously optimistic. For all your reservations about dating, Soonyoung has proven someone you very much enjoy getting to know.
After several hours, the two of you arrive at the first lull in the conversation, when your laughs fade out and you just look at each other, electricity charging the air. Soonyoung breaks the silence. “So, did I get the job?”
You pretend to deliberate for a single second. “Absolutely,” you say, holding out your hand for him to shake.
He throws his arms around you instead. “We’re actually married now, and married people hug,” he explains.
You giggle nervously, despite the growing heat in your face. “I don’t remember you proposing today,” you scold him lightly, still hugging.
“The one from last night is still valid,” he says, breaking apart. “Honey,” he adds as an afterthought.
Just then, your phone rings. You answer it quickly, rushing to your bedroom to take the call. After a few minutes, you return to the kitchen apologetically. “It’s work,” you tell Soonyoung. “A situation came up with a client.”
“Do you need to leave now?” Soonyoung asks, jumping up. “Can I give you a ride?”
You shake your head. “It’s actually an hour drive and I’m not supposed to bring people who aren’t privy to the case. But — well, Tiger usually gets fed around 8 pm, and I don’t think I’ll be back by then. Would you be okay to do that? If not it’s totally fine, I can call my sister-in-law to do it.”
Soonyoung beams. “Of course. Can I wait for you to get home?”
You blink. “Soonyoung, it’ll be at least four hours from now. Probably more. We’re talking past midnight.”
“No school tomorrow,” Soonyoung reminds you, shrugging. “Plus, a group of friends invited me out to drink tonight, and I didn’t really want to go. Now I’ve got an excuse.”
You breathe a sigh of relief. “You are genuinely the best,” you say, going to him and wrapping him up in your arms. “Thanks.”
He seems taken aback by your sudden hug, but responds all the same. “Be safe on your way to work,” he says softly in your ear, raising goosebumps on the back of your neck, and you steal one final look at him before leaving.
******
By the time you get home, it’s nearly one in the morning. As you slump tiredly against the steering wheel of your car before going in, you check your phone and find several missed calls from Ginger. It is only then you remember she was scheduled to come home today, and more than likely did — to Soonyoung. 
You race up to your apartment and open the door. Sure enough, curled up on the couch with Tiger is Soonyoung. He’s fast asleep, his cheek squished against the firm cushion, Tiger keeping vigil at his stomach. Tiger meows reproachfully as you come in, taking quiet steps to Ginger’s room. She’s resting with her back against the headboard, but she opens her eyes at the sound of her door. 
“So, I came home to a man in my house,” she says expectantly. “That was crazy.”
“Yeah. We had a runaway situation that I had to figure out, and Soonyoung stayed to feed Tiger and make sure I got home okay,” you explain softly, not wanting to wake Soonyoung.
“I’m so glad he’s not a serial killer,” Ginger whispers. “He was very attentive. Kept checking on me and asking if I needed anything.”
“He did?” you ask, your heart in your throat. 
“He seems like a tender little guy,” Ginger says, watching you carefully.
“He does,” is your simple reply. You can’t trust yourself to speak without crying.
******
Soonyoung ended up accidentally sleeping over that night. In the morning, the three of you — Soonyoung, Ginger, and yourself — spent a fractionally awkward but mostly pleasant morning breakfasting together before Soonyoung insisted it was time for him to shower. After that day, he dropped by frequently. 
Sometimes he would stay for just twenty minutes, dropping off a book or visiting Tiger. Occasionally he’d bring by an ingredient for a dinner you were making, and you made it a habit to invite him to join on those occasions. The easy conversation between the two of you became an easy friendship, bursting with silliness and laughter and acceptance of each other’s quirks. You felt more and more like your real self around him. Which was crazy, especially given how thoroughly and extremely smitten with him you are.
It had taken you less than a week to realize your feelings. You’d expected to start feeling uncomfortable around Soonyoung, but for some reason, he just made it so clear that he cared about you that you didn’t even worry about if he liked you or not.
You reflect on this as you drive to your friend’s house to get ready before the wedding. You’re nervous about how this whole day will go, but the promise of seeing Soonyoung later makes it all worth it. In fact, just the thought of him being with you seems to calm your nerves and make it easier to face the day. 
You mostly keep to yourself with the bustle of getting ready. The soft pink dresses the bride picked as your bridesmaids’ dresses are not your normal style or color, but you like how the sleek satin fabric looks on you. It pairs well with your minimal hairstyle and makeup. Before you know it, it’s time for you to go get Soonyoung.
When he opens the door, his face breaks into a huge smile. “You look beautiful!” he exclaims, covering his mouth with both hands. 
“You look so handsome!” you reply, looking him up and down. He looks amazing in his black suit, white shirt, and black tie. 
“You’re not supposed to outshine the bride,” Soonyoung says sternly. “I don’t think they’ll let us in.”
“Stop it,” you say, flustered. 
“I’m serious,” Soonyoung insists. 
“Well, if they don’t let us in, I think I’d prefer that,” you say honestly.
“I’m actually excited,” Soonyoung admits. “I think it’ll be fun.”
“Even though my friends are...”
“Kind of awful? Yeah, I’m not worried about it.”
“Why?” you ask.
“Because I’m not planning on paying them any attention at all,” Soonyoung says simply, his eyes fixed on you. And as he helps you into the driver’s seat, you can’t help but smile.
The wedding is a lavish affair. After the complicated wedding ceremony, where you stood at the farthest distance from the bride and had a hard time tearing your eyes away from Soonyoung, who stared at you the whole time, he whisks you away to your dinner table. 
“Did you enjoy the ceremony?” you ask as Soonyoung pulls out your chair for you to sit down. 
“It was quite a view,” he teases lightly as he sits beside you.
You know what he really meant, and you give him a shy half-smile before replying, “It sure is beautiful out here!” You gesture around at the venue, which is gorgeous — a beautiful private property with loads of land, and a gazebo on the banks of a large pond, where the ceremony took place.
Soonyoung scoffs. “Well, yeah, but you seem determined to miss my point.” Nonchalantly, he slips a hand onto your knee, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. “I’m flirting with you.”
“Oh, are you?” you ask, feigning surprise. “I hadn’t noticed.” But in reality, it’s impossible to stop yourself from beaming. 
“Well, we are married,” Soonyoung says, his hand sliding across your knee to find your hand. He tangles his fingers with yours. “I think it comes with the territory.”
“If you say that too loud, you’re going to make people think it’s true,” you joke.
“Let them think that,” he says, his eyes trained on you in a way that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. You squeeze his hand and look away, slightly panicked.
Your eyes land below the table. “I like your shoes,” you blurt.
Soonyoung looks down at his plain black loafers. “These are like, my least interesting pair of shoes,” he points out with a sly grin.
“Well, you’re an interesting man,” you say, trying to recover but feeling flustered all the same. “What are your most interesting pair of shoes?”
“I’ll give you one guess.”
“The only thing I can count on is that they’re tiger-related,” you reply, grateful for this subject shift.
Soonyoung nods. “Calvin and Hobbes Air Force Ones,” he confirms proudly. “I should’ve worn them.”
“You would have made the bride angry.”
“That makes me want to wear them even more,” Soonyoung grumbles.
“What’s your beef with my friends?” you ask him lightly, absently trailing one of your hands over his arm.
He leans in to almost-whisper the answer. “They left you vulnerable when they should have been taking care of you, and that bothers me.”
You’re taken aback by how serious the usually silly Soonyoung sounds, but before you have a chance to respond, the music starts, heralding the arrival of the new Mr. And Mrs. You take the moment of cheering and applause to breathe deeply and steady your trembling hands. This is Soonyoung, you remind yourself. You don’t need to be nervous around him.
You’ve sufficiently pulled yourself together by the time you have Soonyoung’s attention again. “So, what will you do after the wedding is over?” you ask him, trying to keep the new, flirty side of him locked away.
“That’s an amazing question that I actually was going to ask you. Do you wanna watch a movie?” he asks.
“Well, my place is empty tonight, so that sounds kind of fun,” you admit, not sure you fully succeeded at not flirting. 
“Perfect,” he says. “So, what are you in the mood for? Action? Horror? Romcom?”
“How about…a wholesome sports movie? Those are my favorite genre of movies.”
“Really?” he asks with interest. “This surprises me about you.”
The conversation settles into its normal easy rhythm — all through dinner, you talk and laugh and enjoy each other’s company. When the dancing starts, you allow Soonyoung to pull you into his arms on the dance floor, following his lead in a smooth trot-step. “You’re a good dancer,” you observe.
“I teach kid’s dance classes on the side,” he admits. “It’s my night job.”
“Ah, and here I was, thinking you probably did pole-dancing after hours,” you tease.
“I know you’re not serious, but I am actually extremely flattered you’d assume that,” Soonyoung says. “Pole dancers are strong.”
“So are you,” you point out. 
“How do you know?” he asks.
You swallow hard. “Uh, you — your arms,” you stutter. “They're…really nice.”
Soonyoung (unconsciously?) flexes his bicep under your hand, and your knees nearly buckle. It’s almost pathetic how affected you are by him, especially given that he hasn’t even made a move yet, and you cringe inwardly at yourself.
“Are you okay? You look uncomfortable,” Soonyoung asks. 
“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m fine?” you reassure, but in the least convincing voice ever. 
“Do you need some water?” he asks, concerned.
“Yes, that’d be amazing,” you say, shooing him away and fanning at yourself, your mind full of useless chiding for being so embarrassingly whipped.
A tap on your shoulder startles you from your thoughts. “Hi,” says a familiar voice — and your stomach drops.
It’s your ex boyfriend, the one you’d asked your friend not to invite but to no avail. “Hi,” you say shortly. 
“You look great,” he says, to no reply from you. “The color suits you.”
“Is there something you want?” you ask him, trying to make it clear you don’t want to talk with him about anything.
“Just trying to catch up on what’s happened since, well, you know—“
“Since I caught you cheating?” you finish. “Yeah, life’s been really great since then. Thanks for the trust issues.”
He gives a sheepish little grin. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he says, like he’s a call center employee placating an angry customer. “I got promoted at work.”
You could punch him. You would, if you weren’t at a wedding. Luckily all murderous intent is redirected by a very timely Soonyoung, who arrives on the scene with a confident, “hey, baby!” and a hand outstretched with a glass of water.
“Oh, you came with someone?” your ex says. He sizes up Soonyoung, who is easily bigger than him, and shrugs. “Bad luck. Maybe next time.”
“I was this close to ruining this wedding,” you confess as Soonyoung wraps a protective arm around your waist, watching your ex saunter away. “He started talking about his promotion.”
“Didn’t he cheat on you?” Soonyoung asks, watching him with narrowed eyes.
“Yeah,” you confirm, scowling.
“Well, drink your water, and then we can dance again. You’ll forget all about him.”
This turns out to be true. Dancing with Soonyoung is so much fun -- he seems unusually good at it, and leads you very well, but also doesn’t take things too seriously, letting you spin him or even pretending to do a dip in which he almost falls over. The whole thing is just so ridiculous that you find yourself giggling through it, needing to pause and take a break. Soonyoung suggests that the two of you take a walk down to the lake, and you readily agree. 
He holds your hand during the walk, and you can feel yourself trying to explain away his behavior -- he’s probably just trying to scare off your ex, or any of the other bridesmaids who’ve been making eyes at him all evening (which you’ve been pretending not to notice or care, but which you most definitely have noticed and are not happy about). Or maybe he just wants some affection. Or maybe it’s something else. It certainly can’t be the simplest explanation -- that Soonyoung likes you in the same way you like him. 
The banks of the water are muddy and slick, and you and Soonyoung have to cling to each other for balance, but you’re still giggling like children as you kick off your shoes and let your toes sink into the murky shallows of the pond. “It’s freezing,” you say, hopping out almost immediately and colliding with Soonyoung, who automatically throws his arms out to steady you. Your laughter fades as you look into his eyes, which are wide and uncharacteristically shy and nervous. He swallows. Hard.
“Uh....” he says, stammering. “You’re -- you’re beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you say in a tense whisper.
“I think I -- I think I like you,” Soonyoung whispers back.
“You think?” you ask, smiling a little.
“No, that was ridiculous,” he corrects. “Uh, I like you. For suresies. For realsies.”
“For suresies and for realsies?” you say with wide eyes, and he cringes.
“Throw me a bone, please,” he whines. “I’m nervous.”
And he is. You can tell that this normally confident boy is all but in pieces after making his confession. So you untangle yourself from Soonyoung’s grasp and turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck and looking at him. “So am I,” you admit. 
And at this, Soonyoung beams. If you didn’t know better, you’d think that a smile that lights up a room was a bit of metaphorical nonsense that didn’t truly apply to anyone, but seeing this now, you figure that was an understatement in Soonyoung’s case. This kind of smile from him was enough to support intelligent light on several planets. And you? Just like a moon, you know you’ll be rotating around him your whole life, just reflecting that light. It is impossible to fully describe the way it warms you from the inside out.
You’re so distracted by Soonyoung himself that you don’t notice how he’s leaned in close until his lips brush yours. And, in fact, this move surprises you so much that you jump, startled, which sends you sliding into the mud, dirtying up your pale pink dress and causing an angry honk to emanate from the reeds where you land. Before you know it, a goose is hissing in your ear, and you shriek with terror as you scramble to your feet, running with all your might from the furious bird, who emerges from its marshy home to chase you up the hill toward the wedding party.
You never thought you’d need to answer the question, “Could I beat a goose in a fight?” And now, here you are, with a very clear answer indeed: absolutely not. The goose is fast, using a combination of an aggressive waddle, short bursts of low flight, and what is more than likely a higher-than-average dose of unfettered bloodlust to stay right on your heels all the way onto the dance floor, where wedding guests dive out of the way in cartoonish confusion. You don’t have time to think about how ridiculous you must look, covered in mud, running from a murderous goose, before Soonyoung firmly plants himself in front of the rampaging animal. 
And inexplicably, it stops, looking up at Soonyoung with its unsettlingly blue eyes. He stands with his hands on his hips and glares down at the goose. “You interrupted what was supposed to be a very romantic moment for me,” he scolds. “Now shoo!”
And you watch, dumbfounded, as the goose gives a plaintive squawk before toddling back to its pond. “How did you do that?” you gasp. 
It is only then that you realize the entire wedding is staring at you. And for good reason -- the bride and groom are about to cut the cake. The terror of being chased by Satan’s personal fowl pales in comparison to the sight of the bride. Her eyes are even more murderous than the bird’s had been -- and she’s holding a cake knife to boot. 
So, before any other awful things can happen, you grab Soonyoung’s hand and run. Out of the wedding area, off the farm, onto the dirt road where you parked your car, realizing too late you left your shoes by the pond and not daring to face the wedding party or the goose to retrieve them. By the time you arrive at your car, you’re laughing so hard you’re crying. Soonyoung, though bewildered, joins in, and the two of you double over, struggling to breathe with the absurdity of it all.
When you’ve both been reduced to gasps for air, Soonyoung turns to you, leaning back against your passenger side door for support. “Is every day of your life like this?” he asks through deep breaths.
“Why?” you ask, your face falling. “Are you getting tired of rescuing me?”
He chuckles. Unexpectedly, he pulls you toward him by the waist, seemingly unbothered by the mud. “Not at all,” he says, pulling a stray clump of weeds from your hair. “I’d rescue you every day if you asked. I just need to know how much prep work I need to be doing. I mean, do I need to start a new workout routine? Do I need to learn karate geared toward beating up ducks?”
“That was a goose,” you correct. Then you register what he said. “You’d rescue me every day?”
He suddenly looks nervous again. “If you want,” he offers, pushing a lock of your hair behind your ear.
But your answering smile is enough to tell him that’s exactly what you want. With a mite more confidence, he grips your chin between his forefinger and thumb and pulls your lips to his.
This kiss is much more substantial than the last. Soonyoung’s arms wrap around you, his hands resting on the small of your back, locking you into his grasp and making it difficult for you to pull away -- as if you would, because his kisses are sweeter than summer strawberries. As the warm winds begin to pick up speed, as your hair whips around you and your muddy dress is blown every which way, your heart seems to crystalize into calmness. Kissing Soonyoung feels like putting the last piece into a puzzle, like coming inside from a cold rain to a warm fire, like watching bees flit from flower to flower in a late spring sunset. It feels perfect. It feels right.
You could go on kissing Soonyoung forever, until the two of you became statues locked in an embrace, but eventually you do pull away. Soonyoung laughs at the deep, shaky breath you take, and so do you, bringing a hand to touch his pink cheek in wonder. “You’re so beautiful,” you tell him.
“Not as much as you,” he replies warmly. 
Then a thought strikes you. “Also, when were you going to tell me you have mind control over geese?”
He shrugs. “It wasn’t mind control. It was the eye of the tiger.” He brings his hand up in an imitation of a paw print, and you narrow your eyes at him.
“Okay. If you’re a Disney Princess, you can just say that.”
“Okay. I’m a Disney Princess,” Soonyoung agrees. “Does that make you happy?”
“Only if I get to be the Disney Prince,” you mumble, nestling into his arms and resting your head on his shoulder.
“Deal,” he replies. You can hear the smile in his voice as he does.
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madman479r · 1 year ago
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Jaune was heading back to his dorm room after a session at the gym following Nora's workout routine (Seeing as he was still standing was proof that he was improving) when he heard two familiar voices.
From the sound of it, it seemed like they were in some sort of argument.
"I'm telling you, Blake's is just better."
"Coming from someone with simple taste, I'd rather not take your word."
"Simple?!"
Jaune rounded the corner and saw that it was Sun and Neptune who were arguing. "Sun? Neptune? What's going on? Why are you arguing?" He asked.
The two other students turned to see Jaune. "Jaune, buddy, we were just looking for you!" Neptune said, his mood taking a 180 degree turn.
Sun, still with a narrowed and determined look on his face, continued. "Yeah, settle this debate for us."
Jaune was unsure but couldn't help himself. He liked hearing good debates about certain topics after all. "Okay. Hit me." Jaune said. Maybe this was about some book or movie. But then again Blake's name was mentioned so that kind of narrowed down the list of possible discus-
"Between Blake and Weiss, who do you think has the better butt." Sun bluntly asked.
"..."
"..."
"..."
Jaune stared at the two Haven students, wondering if he heard right. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"
"Which girl has the better ass?" Neptune repeated. "Weiss' lean, toned behind, or Blake's overly large-"
"Hey!" Sun cut in. "That's not cool!"
Jaune silently agreed with Sun, appreciating that his fellow blonde was defending his friends' dignit-
"Your putting words in his head to sway his decision!" Sun accused, putting his finger close to Neptune's face.
Scratch that, Sun was just as bad.
Sun pushed on. "Besides, Weiss is just too small."
Neptune was quick to rebuke. "But Blake's is too big. Those type of butts jiggle at just a gust of wind. It reminds me of those rubber things with thin gel inside."
"Bigger is better. I'd prefer an ass with some meat on it. It's got its own name for crying out loud! The Bellabooty is superior."
"But age will ruin it, it'll become saggy. A butt like Weiss' basically stays the same. And it shows she actually takes care of herself with a good workout."
Jaune shook his head as Sun and Neptune continued to argue. This was getting ridiculous and he didn't want any part of it. He was about to say so until...
"Gentleman." A stern voice cut in, making all three men freeze in fear. Sun and Neptune looked at Jaune, or rather behind him. Jaune himself slowly turned around and came face to face with an unamused Glynda Goodwitch.
"I understand your at an age in which your hormones can sometimes get the better of you and that you can't help but notice those of the opposite sex, so I will let you off with a warning. But should I catch you talking about your fellow students in such a degrading manner, I will not be so lenient. " She warned, her glare sending shivers down all their spines.
Professor Goodwitch then focused on Jaune. "Mr. Arc, my office." She ordered shortly.
Jaune sputtered. "Bu-but I wasn’t-!" He tried to protest.
Only to stop Immediately at the combat instructor's narrowed gaze. "That wasn't a request, Mr. Arc." She then turned and headed for her class room.
Jaune stood rooted while Sun empathetically patted his shoulder. "Tough break, pal."
"Yeah. sorry, dude." Neptune added.
Jaune gave the pair a small glare, showing the apology wasn't accepted.
"Mr. Arc! I won't be kept waiting!" Goodwitch's voice made Jaune hurriedly follow along.
0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0
Glynda strode into her glass room and stood by her desk, her back towards Jaune, who entered after Glynda. He was quick to defend himself. "Professor, I wasn't a part of that. I was about to tell them to stop but you-."
"I'm well aware of that, Mr. Arc. I heard it all." Miss Goodwitch stated, her back still facing Jaune.
Jaune grew confused. "So why was I-."
"Simple, Jaune." Glynda said and lifted up her skirt.
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Jaune's throat became instantly dry as he stared at his girlfriend's bare ass.
"I wanted to remind you that my behind is much better than Miss Schnee and Miss Belladonna's." Glynda's voice changed from stern to sultry and low.
Jaune looked at the meaty behind, mesmerised. It was like seeing the sun rise. You can see it a thousand times and never get bored of it. (And you'd dread never seeing it again.) He stepped close to Glynda as if in a hypnotic trance and unconsciously raised an open hand.
'SMACK!!!'
Glynda's eyes widened at the stinging sensation on her ass before closing her eyes and moaning in pleasure as the offending hand began to gently massage and squeeze it. She then gave a small giggle as she felt a finger slip under her panties and rub her puckered asshole, but that giggle turned into a gasp as the digit it lightly pushed against her hole, as if testing the tightness.
"Honestly, Jaune. Ever since you convinced me to try anal sex, I have a hard time deciding if I want to feel you in my pussy and filling up my womb or have you in my ass and painting my guts white." Glynda breathed over her shoulder.
"I think teaching you dirty talk is the best thing I've done." Jaune whispered into her ear, earning another shiver from Glynda. "And it doesn't really need to be said. But your ass if way better."
The pair shared one more look of love and lust before pressing their lips together.
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marie-snape · 15 days ago
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"Shhh"
Severus Snape x professor!slytherin!reader
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Chapter 1, part 2
Previous part: here
Word counter: 1k
Warnings: -
Movie/book: Philosopher/Sorcerer’s stone
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You were drinking coffee in the staff room after the school day, when Pomona Sprout opened the door and said "Did you hear that Harry Potter is the new Gryffindor’s seeker?!" then she took her stuff and left the room.
You were confused. First-years don’t play quidditch.
"Wait, WHAT- "
"Do you have any hearing problems? She said that mr. Potter is the new Gryffindor’s seeker." said a low man’s voice.
When you turned to where the voice came from, you saw professor Snape sitting in an armchair and reading a book. How i couldn’t notice him sitting here all this time?, you thought.
"I heard it. I am questioning the fact that they allowed a first-year to the team."
"Certainly, it is another act of Gryffindor captain’s incompetence."
"Or perhaps their past seeker was so bad that any first-year who never got to fly on a broomstick would play better"
Snape was definitely satisfied with your words. Before you there weren’t many teachers to mock Gryffindor with him.
"They say he got the “talent” from his father."
"Oh, i think i knew him. James Potter, wasn’t he?"
"yes." Severus’s face expression turned into a tense one.
"Pitiful that one. I think he spent every moment of his school life on bullying Slytherins."
"He definitely did." he was more pleased with the mention of James in that way.
The next day, you were in Dumbledore’s office, suggesting what you could do to increase the Stone’s protection.
"Is the Mirror of Erised still in the property of Hogwarts? I could put a spell on it so if someone wants the stone but does not intends to use it, it will be given to them. And if someone wants to use it, it won’t."
"Yes, it is. Very ingenious, Y/N. I need to check something, but i’ll send you an owl when we’ll need you. Thank you for your help."
You left Dumbledore’s office, when you accidentally bumped into Severus and fell on the floor. As he watched you trying to get up, he said:
"A truly entertaining spectacle."
Then Snape gave you his hand and helped you.
"Thank you, but it was possible to do without mockery."
"I do not think so." He smirked and continued walking to his class.
Over time, your relationship with Severus has improved. Almost to a friendship. He even allowed you to call him Severus.
It was Halloween. The Great Hall was decorated and you had themed meals. You sat next to Severus and Hagrid, talking with the half-giant when professor Quirrell ran in screaming "T-TROLL IN THE DUNGEON! T-T-TROLL IN THE D-DUNGEON!"
Dumbledore told teachers to go with him to stop the troll, when Severus was going somewhere.
"I think the dungeons are that way."
"And i think that someone should go check if the Stone is safe."
"I’ll go then, you should go after the troll."
"No, you should go after the troll."
Minerva came up to you. "You two idiots, there’s a troll in the castle!"
Snape went to the third floor, you went with others to find the troll.
After you saw that three young gryffindors fought the creature, Severus joined you. You noticed Snape's leg which had a large cut on it. Snape noticed and covered it up.
"You alright?"
Minerva then talked loudly, not allowing Severus to say anything, probably because she didn’t hear you and was talking to the students.
"5 points will be taken from Gryffindor for your serious lack of judgment. As for you two gentlemen I just hope you realize how fortunate you are. Not many students could take on a full grown mountain troll and live to tell the tale. 5 points...will be awarded to each of you. For sheer dumb luck."
Severus then talked "I consider that taking away only five points from mrs. Granger isn’t quite right. It may escaped your notice, but mr. Potter and mr. Weasley were acting unwise too. Also, I can’t remember that house points can be given for “sheer dumb luck”. I’ll take them from Gryffindor, so we won’t have problems later."
Then he came back to where he stood, next to you. You smiled and whispered: "That’s how you win the House Cup."
"I don’t really care about the House Cup. Winning it just keeps my students motivated."
"Really?” You smirked. "Not even a bit of proudness for your house?"
Severus rolled his eyes.
When the teachers were finally allowed to go, you and Snape headed to the dungeon.
You came up to the door to your chambers. Severus was about to go to his, but you stopped him.
"Not so quick."
"What?"
"There’s a thing that a certain three-headed dog left on your leg."
"Why would you care?"
"Because, you know, some nasty Gryffindor students could notice it and think-."
He interrupted you. "I will repeat my question. Why would you care?"
"Uhm, maybe because i care of my friends?"
Severus stared at you for a bit. "How did you call me?"
"A friend."
"Why?"
"Tell me then, how i should have called you? “Man with whom we talk shit about students every day in the staff room?”?"
"Alright. I think i will allow you to call me this."
You answered sarcastic. "Thank you, my lord." then bowed jokingly.
"This one would be better." he smirked.
Severus was sitting on your sofa in the living room, with a rolled-up trouser leg so you could see the injury. You were looking for something on your bookshelves.
"Why would you have so many books if the school has a library?"
You mocked him. "Why would you care?"
"Right. I got that it’s annoying. Instead I will say “it is none of your fucking business”."
You laughed. You read something from a book and went to your bedroom. There you have a shelf with potion ingredients. Snape knew it, he stole from you few Ashwinder eggs for his lesson when he brought you drunk and asleep there.
You poured phoenix tears over his injury, and casted "Vulnera Sanentur". Then you took out of your bag a white plaster.
"To hide the trace." "Alright, now get out." you stayed with a serious expression for a moment, then laughed.
"You behave like a muggle nurse that hates her job."
"Shush!"
"Thank you, by the way." Severus left.
================================
Masterpost
If i made any writing mistakes, please let me know in the comments section.
Also sorry for this one being too short.
Would appreciate if you follow me 💚
With love (for Snape), M.S.
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tojivu · 2 years ago
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PICK YOU UP AT 8.
a/n hahah Hi
warnings/tags dates with genshin men. gn!reader. includes zhongli diluc childe xiao thoma. a little favouritism in childe LOL sorry. petname ‘baby’ used in childe’s. mentions of wearing a dress in xiao’s.
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ZHONGLI never lets the romance die. you’ve been together for a while now, and he has never disappointed you in that time. candles, picking you up in his car, getting out of it and opening the door for you—dates with your boyfriend are truly the highlight of the week. due to his busy schedule at the funeral parlour, he often leaves you alone in the wee hours of the night; but he never lets you go a week without a date where it’s just the two of you. he values you greatly and it shows in the way he puts so much effort into these special nights, and he’d often ask you how you liked it afterwards (if there need be improvement, though rare).
“hello, dear. ready to go?” he’s walking you to his car, your arm around his—and you nod.
you wonder where he’s taking you this time, since it was his turn to pick this week; but you don’t really care. anywhere with zhongli is fine with you, even if it was a junkyard and you two spent the night eating chips & watching the stars.
he ends up taking you to a fancy restaurant in the city, in a high rise building—he pulls the chair back for you, and you’re speechless at the view. the city lights were bright, and you could see cars commuting multiple floors below. it overlooked many of the other buildings, but what caught your attention the most was the night sky.
“the view is so.. stunning, zhongli—how did you get a spot here?”
“anything for a beautiful view, y/n.”
you notice he’s not even looking outside, but instead staring right at you. you don’t know why, or maybe you do and you’re just shy: but something’s telling you that it’s not the city view he’s talking about.
DILUC never understood the appeal of date nights before you came along. he thought they were pointless, spending money to do something outside the comfort of your own home seemed like just that. it was only until you expressed your need for quality time that he finally gave it a try. having a busy schedule, he wasn’t sure when to take you out—but when he finally did find an opportunity, he found himself enjoying it much more than he thought he would. ever since then, he’s been picking you up from work at least once a week and taking you out to somewhere new; diluc’s never one to disappoint.
work ended late into the afternoon and you were starving. your coworkers waved you goodbye as they entered their taxis home, and you were just about to book a ride too—but a few seconds later, you see a familiar white car stop in front of you.
the window rolls down, and you see your boyfriend in the driver’s seat. what an extravagant entrance, you think, and you find yourself snickering at him.
“what’s so funny?” he asks, blank and deadpan expression worn.
“nothing. where are we going now?”
“you ask this every single time; you wouldn’t know.”
“i thought so.” you smile. it’s amazing, how someone could know so many places. at least now, you’ll have more places than just your shared apartment to make memories in.
you get in the car, and you both drive off.
CHILDE plans the most obnoxious, extravagant dates. he knows that you think it’s cringe, but he loves seeing the embarrassment on your face when he appears at your doorstep in his finest suit with the most colourful flowers, a sign in his left hand saying “will you go on a date with me?”. you could say it’s not surprising, a man of his nature doing such things—yet it’s sweet, not more sweet than cringeworthy, but still sweet nontheless. you were the lowkey, stay at home with pizza and binge movies type: after all, that was what your ex boyfriends had given you—but it’s childe, so you can always expect something more.
it’s a rainy friday night and childe hasn’t texted you. you’re sure he’s up to one of his stupid antics again, but a part of you thinks he’s probably swamped with work and can’t text you. it disappoints you a little, but it can’t be helped anyway. there’s always next week.
just then, your doorbell tune plays. you get up from bed, excited, but then you remember you ordered food an hour ago. could be the delivery guy, childe wouldn’t just appear at your door during a thunderstorm without telling you he’ll be late, right?
but you open the door and see him, drenched from head to toe, holding a bouqet of flowers (that were also wet). “i’m so sorry baby, i got caught in the rain while buying these.” he explains, using his free hand to move the hair away from his face.
it’s safe to say you two didn’t have the expected date that night. but he’s here, in your home, snuggled up next to you—he’s warm from the shower you told him to take, so you don’t really care; a break from the glam once in a while isn’t a bad thing.
XIAO is never late. he plans down to the minute, every detail in his mind—it always goes according to his plans whenever you two are out. usually, it’s always him who handles the where, when and how. you were never the type to plan ahead, often throwing yourself out there and seeing where it took you—and always the one following others plans and agreeing with everything. it was a friday night and you’ve gotten sick of the restaurants; you’ve sworn that you visited one of them at least more than 5 times in a month already.
you’re tempted to ask xiao to change it up a little, but it’s last minute—you’re getting ready and he’s on the way. you’re sure he would get mad, who wouldn’t? he’s booked a reservation, he’s wearing his nicest suit and you’re in your prettiest dress, it’d be a bit rude; but you’re sick of the monotony, work has got your legs sore and there’s nothing you want more than to lay in bed with your boyfriend.
xiao shows up at your door, and you hesitantly speak up before he takes your hand. “can we just stay in tonight?”
“tired today?” he smiles, expression soft and understanding—and you’re immediately relieved.
the night definitely did not go as xiao envisioned, but it’s okay—he’s with you, still, and that’s all he needs to check off his list.
THOMA grimaces at the thought of sitting across his lover, eating and just talking. that is the most boring thing ever, he would say; and that’s not because he doesn’t enjoy conversation with you, it’s mostly because there isn’t an opportunity for him to see you laugh or smile until your cheeks hurt at a dinner table. you won’t see anything funny at a fancy restaurant that would make you burst out laughing—and thoma loves that most about you, how your voice jumps an octave when you’re laughing and smiling, how your eyes sparkle most in those moments, or how you clutch your stomach when it’s too much to bear. there’s no fun in it, he would tell you time and time again.
due to this, it was clear what he needed to do. rule number 1, no dinner dates at fancy 5 star restaurants (unless you’re really craving a good steak). the weekend arrives swiftly, and you know your boyfriend is going to surprise you with a new adventure. this time, it’s going hiking and ziplining.
“oh, but we’ll be going together!” he responds, all cheery when you tell him you’re not a big fan of heights.
“that doesn’t make it any better.”
“are you sure? we could hold hands—“ thoma adds on, clearly convinced this was the most romantic thing to do with your lover.
“we are going to a restaurant after this. and i’m going to talk the entire time.”
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140323 — omg this was shpposed to go up 2 months ago but i got swept up in so much :,, anyways not proof read as always don’t comment anything mean or else it’s another hiatus ok bye
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accio-victuuri · 10 months ago
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XZ’s GQ February issue candies 🍬
now that we all had the time to appreciate the lovely photos and videos from that cover & collab — which is honestly a whole meal on it’s own, now is the time for some sweets. 🫶🏼 nothing too extravagant, a few similarities and clues we have connected only. i think the best candy still is the fact that it’s now confirmed that zz & wyb both have a good relationship with gq. even rocco going as far as choosing xz to start having simultaneous cover releases with other countries. sit tight and wait for all the toxic narratives to be proven wrong. don’t sweat it. the road ahead is long. let’s enjoy life and support the boys! 🫶🏼
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One thing i noticed, and was actually surprised about was WYB posting an ad for Super X as early as 8:00 AM. Tho he may post at 8:05, which is rare, he usually does ad posts at 10:00. The 8:05 is mostly done by the brands. We have talked about them trying their best not have work overlap, this is a minor one, but as soon as GQ posted at 9:30 i feel like i know what’s happening. Then it didn’t stop till 12:00 nn. It doesn’t help cause i’m clowning that the short film feature for this cover was assigned Chapter 8. WYB posted at 8, the full short film is 8. What a nice coincidence!
Knowing WYB is not a stranger to doing short films with GQ and their love for movies! It wouldn’t really surprise me now if GG does a full feature about LOCH with them. These two really chose the same publication to do exclusive for their projects 😌😌
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the similarity that i love is them in the bathroom and then looking at the mirror. tho wyb’s are scenes from HB, these stills were first seen @ GQ.
there is a story here 👀👀
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it’s nice too how GQ used ZZ’s photos and put them in the frames. what a nice touch! since this is essentially his dream 💭
+ peter pan pop up art book on the bed too!
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overall, there is really not that much we can clown about when it comes to photos alone. tho what gg is wearing has an interesting story as shared by @rainbowsky here. some may say it’s the stylist and magazine’s choice but we still love seeing the association. In addition, the clothes were inspired by Nicole Kidman’s clothes in a Chanel perfume ad. i love the unconventional wedding dress choice here, it fits them! <3
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moving on to the biggest way we can cpn tho is the interview & cover story.
i especially liked the questions, it wasn’t cutesy. it asked what needed to be asked.
here are some of the similarities i found with them and their outlook in life and career. 🤍
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First of all, being professional is an unavoidable topic. You can have a non-major background, but you must have excellent professional skills. This is what I want to do, this is who I am. I feel that I am not enough, and i’m too far behind.
I think (improving acting skills) is a cumulative process. You can’t make a big step forward with just one movie. This is difficult for me to happen. So you have to keep filming, but you have to keep filming good films and don't consume yourself.
It’s the intent to be a better actor and the self awareness of not having that “background” people expect them to have. However, they can compensate by being professional. by being the hardest working person in the room. Sometimes I feel like it’s okay for them to praise themselves and not always be this critical, but i guess that’s what make them the best too cause they have high standards for themselves.
At present, I want to be an actor who makes the audience like you. Maybe everyone is not your fan, or even not particularly interested in you, but you know that he has a drama, Do you want to watch it? His dramas are all good. I want to do this. This is my current goal. Is it possible to become the actor I like? This is a rule.
THIS. This!!!!!! I feel like they both have this outlook. They don’t need every single person to be their “fan” but the goal is to become known and liked by the general public. That people are familiar with them as good actors with excellent works. It’s why there is absolutely no need to beat yourself up on who is the better fan. It doesn’t keep the boys up at night. Lol.
There are many. For example, Zhou Xun has always been my favorite actor.
Zhou Xun! Who has worked with WYB in various projects, primarily with Chanel! I hope ZZ gets to work with her too.
I used to take the subway every day. for me there’s nothing I can't do. What do you think I can do? Say hello and leave. It’s just that I don’t want to cause confusion and trouble for everyone or cause a bad reaction.
The two of them have the same intention of not wanting to cause trouble to the people. That means making sure their fans do not cause unnecessary public issues like gathering in certain places.
Everyone has their own boundaries, and some people have no sense of propriety. I stay away from such people, but when the boundaries are broken again and again and the bottom line is touched, I will get very angry.
Chongqing pepper is here! lol. I see them being very patient and understanding cause they know what people expect of celebrities. But they won’t also take things lying down. They will fight if need be.
In principle, I am a very rigid person. If I insist on something and I think it is right, it will be difficult to be convinced. For example, if I want to be an actor, I don’t want to do anything other than being an actor.
I just want to do it well, just try my best right now. Maybe the result is not good, but what should I do? This is all I can do.
Sounds familiar? Especially the part that says I want to do it well? They have the same braincell 🙃
Now let’s look at the cover story. First, i wanna point out the comment of the interviewer about ZZ: “Before meeting, I thought Xiao Zhan would be very cautious about interviews. To my surprise, Xiao Zhan had a rare sense of relaxation, answered all questions, and even had some humor.”
Which is actually a common misconception about XZ or — you know what? he was kind cautious before but as time goes by, he became more relaxed and candid with his answers. It’s still insightful, but not as practiced. In the Q&A, he mentioned that there are things that cannot be said. Setting boundaries like that. Similarly, WYB is the same. We’ve heard stuff saying that he is in a more relaxed state now. I love that for them!
I still sneak out to ride a bicycle, take a walk, and do a CityWalk. Only once, just now in after walking in the alley for 5 minutes, I was recognized. I also sneaked into the cinema to watch a movie. No one will care about you, really. after leaving the Internet, many things will be solved easily. Sometimes the world is right in front of us.
This goes out to everyone that says how can they go out? How are the CPNs of them spending time together be true? Well this is the answer. Sneaked into a cinema to watch a movie? I hope they do that together too ^^
When he goes to different cities, Xiao Zhan will bring the same type of pillows and quilts. "I will bring everything that can help me sleep well." He has also tried aromatherapy lamps, lavender essential oil, and various other products that make him fall asleep when applied on his body.
This is such an easy cpn for us. Remember that time DLS clowned WYB about the aromatherapy candles? HAHAHAHAHAHA!
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-END.
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lyralit · 11 months ago
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4.1.24 - the importance of learning new things
As much as I think academic & work focus is incredibly important going into the new year, one of my other goals is to practice doing more: to learn all of the things I want to do, in addition to work, in addition to writing. I want to know how to do thousands of little things, and I think the longer we wait, the less likely we are to do them.
Picking up a new hobby doesn't have to be buying a dozen textbooks and spending hundreds of dollars on lessons because you might have the slightest interest: it can be from whatever you have here, now, and you'll never learn if you don't get started.
Some of the things I've been getting into (as I've mentioned before) are baking & crocheting. it just feels so cozy and nice & I love the idea of comfort.
here is a list of things I want to / you should try that's new!
learning a new language. fifteen minutes a day, I kid you not. I'm learning latin on duolingo and I don't ever think about it, but when I do it (25 day streak 💪🏻), I'm starting to notice my improvements
consuming good media. and that's not scrolling for half an hour on tumblr. it's books—deep ones and silly ones and ones about romance and dragons and apocalypses. it's movies! I watched keira knightley's pride and prejudice twice in the last few months, and also three men and a baby which is something I never thought I would watch, but it was quite funny I think. and I learn from it: I cannot write humour or romance for the life of me, so it's basically studying to write (is the self-gaslighting too evident?)
learning to crochet. I made a silly little headband today, after scrolling through pinterest and desperately wanting one. I started crocheting in december to give as gifts (I completed none of my wips, much like when I write) and used the tools I had around me: an old rainbow loom hook and whatever string I could find. now I'm proud to say I can read somewhat fluently crochet acronyms.
baking. I keep saying this. I know. but when I tell you a two years ago I was exploding cupcakes in the oven and last month I made bakery-style cookies...I made bread! a loaf of bread! (in a bread machine, but it's so good and I instantly made another. there is one in the bread machine right now). honestly it just made me feel that much better about improvement, and trying new things, and that is the mindset I want for the new year.
learning to code. in all honesty, I never thought I was a compsci - engineer kind of person. then this year, out of sudden (masterminded) urges, I joined a bunch of tech and robotics initiatives, and maybe it's the sense of community (I can rejoice in finding another nerdy group) but now I am happily chauffeuring myself to these meetings 4h a week. I'm looking into pursuing more into the fields of eng and science. and I'm learning some code from one of the friends I've made!
starting a blog. ...I know most of the people who linger around my blog stay for the writing content (the last posts have turned this writerblr into a digital diary, and I'm only half sorry for that). but since I've joined tumblr (almost three years ago now!) I've got to meet so many wonderful people (including you!) and want to try so many things.
and I get it. it's overwhelming. so here are some starting goals that maybe I'll try also.
start doing art. -> make a card for someone as a gift.
learn a new sport & start exercising. (I'm trying out track & field in the spring, so stay tuned to figure out how that goes) -> see if someone will come play ball with you. do 1 or 2 youtube workout videos a week.
film videos of your daily life. it doesn't need to be for posting! -> edit together clips you've taken for a last year recape.
start a scrapbook. -> print out photos and dig up construction paper. decorate a page.
make a poetry journal. -> go on pinterest to read poetry! pin styles you like and set fifteen minutes to writing.
make a regular journal! -> write once a day. just try: goals for the day in the morning, or a recap at night.
try your hand at gardening. -> research plants that grow well in your region. see if any of the seeds you may have at home are useful. water your lawn. buy a plant and try to keep it alive (set reminders, leave it in front of your sink)
learn to make candles. -> watch a youtube tutorial. see if you can play around with candles you already have.
play chess. -> see if someone will play chess with you. no? chess.com is right there. go make an account. go find a stranger.
learn to play an instrument off youtube. -> maybe you have a piano sitting around, or a guitar you've never touched. you don't even need to master it. pick a song you like and google that. no instrument? maybe there's a way to play drums with home items.
go for a run. -> once a week. a set time. just shoes and the outdoors. too cold? go to a gym and use a treadmill. maybe that's not possible? skip rope.
start / join a book club. -> just you, or some close friends, or people online. a book a month. talk about it.
** on that note, would anyone like to join a tumblr book club? slide into my asks and maybe we can get a blog list!
thank you for reading again <3 until next time.
k.
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katapotato55 · 2 years ago
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How to write a good metaphor
yall seemed to like my post on "how to write good horror" so i figured i should make another one of these.
1- do. not. explain. the. metaphor.
don't.
"oh but how will the audience know my deep and meaningful message- "
SOME PEOPLE WONT GET IT. if you explain what you mean then suddenly the metaphor won't be deep anymore. it becomes a generic forced message.
i know you are tempted to make a character infodump about everything, fucking don't.
followup on this:
2- a good metaphor should potentially have multiple interpretations.
"but i don't want people to get the wrong impression of the story!"
then you either need to make damn sure its an elegantly written metaphor, or none at all. the death of the author is the idea that everyone has their own vision of a story they read, rearguards of authors intent. you need to come to terms with this or else you won't improve your writing skills.
you need to trust that your audience is intelligent enough to understand the metaphor on their own without bashing them over the head with it. sometimes people misunderstand meaning, it is a fact of life.
The game little inferno was thought of as a metaphor about pollution, in which later the creators went out to say it was actually about capitalism and wasting your life with things like exploitative mobile games. you just need make it SUBTLE and hope for the best.
3- The story/gameplay/etc should inform the metaphor(and sometimes reference real life examples)
To mention little inferno again, the "you must wait x amount of time for in-game item to be given to you" is a mirror of mobile games in the real world that use timers to leach money from you.
another example: analogue horror.
broken old technology is scary on its own, but many good analogue horror artists tend to use this to the advantage.
analogue horror can be used as a metaphor for dying trends and technology, like how in the 30's through 70's we used asbestos in the walls. Analogue horror makes a great parralel to this idea (see Blue_channel by gooseworx for a good example.) . the audience questions WHY this is on an old CRT tv and not just a smartphone, perhaps to imply this was an event that happened years ago.
undertale is another example, where most RPG's encourage you to fight and to level up, undertale uses this as a simple metaphor about obsessive control and being cruel to get an arbitrary achievement (i recommend the escapist's video on "why i didn't review undertale" on youtube for way better examples)
tldr: a metaphor is stronger if you lightly reference real life occurances and implement your metaphor in the medium presented.
4- the curtains are blue because they are blue.
not everyone is going to understand your metaphor
and not everyone is going to notice every single little metaphor you add to your story.
remember those teachers that would constantly stretch to imply something in a story is a metaphor and that the curtains are blue because of some deep metaphor for death and sadness and shit?
those teachers are full of it. ignore them.
metaphors are allowed to be simple. not every metaphor needs to be a hyper deep depth defying world changing thing. I could even argue a bunch of small metaphors connected to each other can be better than one big metaphor depending on your story.
relax. don't think too much about it because your average audience member won't.
5- study movies, tv, books, games, etc and understand why their metaphors work.
don't fall into that "the curtains are blue because of a deep message" English teacher mindset mind you.
"but how do i tell what is and isn't a metaphor?" you may ask
simple. trust your gut. you won't understand everything you come across but the human brain has a way of telling what is and isn't a metaphor in stories.
(spoiler about bugsnax)
I could argue Bugsnax is a metaphor about drug abuse and addiction. The characters have personality traits commonly associated with people vulnerable to drug addiction. An athlete, a hippy, a married couple going through a rough spot in their marriage with the threat of divorce, a mentally ill person with trauma and paranoia, etc.
It isn't obvious, many people may disagree with me, but you can't deny that there are signs i may be right.
(end of spoiler) the point i am trying to make: don't stretch to find a metaphor when you don't see one. if you are curious google other people's theories and make your own opinion. metaphors are hard and you will learn over time. and finally 6- do not ever do "it was all just a dream" or "the character is secretly in a coma" etc this applies to writing in general but it is still related to metaphors. the only time i have seen this done well is driver san francisco, but what it did right was A- make it so the players can guess ahead of time the mystery, such as the radio saying voices of your character in the hospital, or if you zoomed out you could hear a heart monitor. and B- it didn't completely un-do the entire story. that is my core issue with this trope. it either wastes your time un-doing the entire story readers worked hard to finish, or it is just nonsensical and terrible. "dora the explorer is actually in purgatory!" "spongebob is a metaphor for the 7 deadly sins!" "ash is in a coma and that is why he never ages! " ooooor it is a cartoon and you are forcing meaning that doesn't exist in something that doesn't even imply it. the world being a bit weird is not enough to be a metaphor for anything. If you want to make a good metaphor: do more effort than just slapping a lazy "it was all a coma" thing at the end. Like horror, stuff like this needs to be built up properly. also consider authors intent. I understand death of the author and all of that, but do you really think a retired marine biologist made spongebob to be a complex metaphor about sinners in hell ? (rip Stephen Hillenburg btw. we didn't deserve him.) thank you for reading, hope this helps. and please, learn to understand the tropes of metaphors before you attempt to make the story of a generation. edit- adding a couple more things i forgot 7- "the darkness is going to destroy the land or whatever!" i see this used all the time. spooky wookey dark shadowy bits going to destroy a land and is the hero's generic bad thing to fight. stop it. it is not a deep and complex metaphor about depression or whatever the hell you are on about. its lazy and stupid. 8- a story should stand up on its own regardless if audience members understand the metaphor or not I don't like Gris. it is a very pretty game with lovely visuals But also the entire story is just the main character moping about artistically and shit and go on about how artistically sad and dramatic this all is. if i don't understand the story without understanding the metaphor, then your story and your metaphor sucks. an example of a metaphor done well: spiritfairer without the metaphor, it is a simple game about running a traveling boat. even if you didn't care too much about the deeper meaning it is a cute story and the gameplay is fun (spoiler) if you look deeper, it can also be taken as a metaphor about greif and learning to accept your loved ones will one day die. things like the boat being filled with empty houses you can't remove is a good example of this. (end of spoiler) your story needs to stand up on its own to be good. don't use a metaphor as a crutch.
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dross-the-fish · 10 months ago
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I found myself thinking of Jekyll today and wondering if it causes him physical pain to have to fake a smile. To what extent is Henry Jekyll, pleasant doctor and sophisticated upperclass gentleman a painful mask he has to wear and does the discomfort ever feel physical?
I was at the local aquarium today (this is the perfect time of year to go because it's open but there are no tourists so it's never crowded and admission is cheap) hanging out and doodling on one of the benches while I watched the fish. I had on headphones to listen to an audio book and to provide a buffer between myself and anyone who might try to talk to me and I had been looking forward to relaxing for a couple of hours when a family walked up and the father waved his hand in front of my face to get my attention. The minute they started asking me questions about what I was drawing I was filled with what I can only describe as intense dismay.
Obviously the family being present isn't in of itself an issue, it's a public aquarium, it's aimed at families and parts of the aquarium are geared specifically at children, but the family noticed me drawing and stopped to talk to me.
I reiterate that this was not something they did wrong, they were just being friendly, but I was really not prepared to have a conversation and I found the whole ordeal to be...well an ordeal. They were interested in what I was drawing (a sketch of Henry Jekyll because he's been on my mind off and on) and just the thought of having to explain who this character was, hoping they got it, and having to potentially explain why I was drawing him felt overwhelming.
And it was, they did not know who Henry Jekyll was, they were vaguely aware of Jekyll and Hyde but weren't the type of people to read classic literature and had never heard of the musical or actually seen for themselves any movies featuring the character. The mom commented that he looks like "a Disney villain from back in the 90s" which...fair assessment, I can't pretend I don't see why she would have thought that. The older kid was probably the most interested and wanted to see more of my drawings which made me really uncomfortable but I let him look through my sketchbook anyway because his parents kept saying he was interested in drawing and he loves art and I felt too anxious to say no.
I made small talk with the parents for a while, all the usual, "what's your name, where you from, what's your job?" (I hate those questions, they are usually the least interesting things about any people, myself included) and I wondered if this is what Henry does on a regular day. Has ordinary conversations with reasonably nice people and feel completely like a fish out of water the whole time. I felt pretty terrible about it too, I didn't have any hard feelings or resentment but the whole time I was thinking "Stop touching my things, go away, please fucking leave so I can get back to my audio book and my drawing. I just wanted to sit with the fish for a few hours because it's supposed to be quiet here this time of year."
No one ever seems to catch on that physically talking to people is an effort for me. I've gone my whole life and no one has ever noticed that I'm anxious or uncomfortable in situations where I have to speak out loud because I've gotten good at faking small talk and I know how to make my voice sound pleasant.
It's strange because I express myself easily enough in writing and I like messaging with people over text but the minute I have to be verbal with people I don't know I feel like I'm putting on an immense effort. I have to consciously choose a tone, figure out what words I want to say, be ready with an explanation in case I'm asked questions and I have to do all of it in real time on the spot. It feels like improve, like I'm constantly doing an improve routine and I know most people would say "Just be yourself!" But myself doesn't want to be doing this at all. Myself wants to be drawing and looking at fish. Even as a child I was never very social, I liked to doodle or daydream or build with my lego sets. I got reprimanded a lot for being too quiet. So I made myself more talkative and learned how to hold conversations. I learned to blend in but it's so tiring at times and I can swear when it's at its worst it feels almost physical. The discomfort becomes a suffocating "texture" on my skin and in my brain and I have to keep pretending like I don't notice it because every time I try to articulate how I feel people don't understand it. It's just not a thing they experience.
So I just keep "acting normal," and wonder if there's something wrong with me, like I'm operating on a different frequency from the people around me and I'm the only one on that frequency so other people don't even know it exists. It's...incredibly isolating at times. Even my partner doesn't seem to hear the world as loud as I do or experience the "texture" it's just a strange THING that I'm stuck with by myself. I wonder if it was the same for Henry Jekyll? Except instead being of too quiet he was too loud, too boisterous, threw tantrums, didn't know when to stop rambling about anatomy and weird gross medical facts. So he learned how to cover it and move through life pretending to be interested in everyone else but keenly aware they could never share his interests because his favorite subjects were too grisly and if he started talking about diseases he'd put everyone off. I head-canon Jekyll loves what he does, but he doesn't love it for reasons a doctor should, he doesn't care that much about healing the sick, he cares about conquering illnesses, he likes to learn about symptoms, he enjoys the disgusting viscera of his work. But he can't let on that this is what he enjoys about his work because that's not noble or heroic, it's something most people would find creepy of him. So he buries it and pretends he cares about curing the sick. He pretends he enjoys talking to people who don't know anything about who he is or what he does but they think they do because they are aware of doctors and understand that medicine exists. All the time he loathes it, it exhausts him and he can't even indulge in activities he enjoys to blow of steam because he enjoys things like brawling, doing drugs, and fucking. All things a man of his status shouldn't be seen doing. There's an image people associate with Henry Jekyll and it's an image he can't afford to tarnish...
but it's not really HIS image, it's just a buffer he keeps up to make himself more palatable. I wonder if that ever hurts him physically, if the mask ever feels like a "texture" muffling him.
there are times when I feel like it's no wonder he wasn't repulsed by Hyde when he first saw his reflection. Because I can only imagine by the time Hyde showed up he was already completely burnt out on being Jekyll.
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nekoannie-chan · 1 month ago
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The book of the dead
The book of the dead
Work Name/Title: The book of the dead.
Author/Artist/Creator: Annie/Nekoannie-chan/SharlotteMayfair
Fandom: Marvel, Fantastic Four.
Ship: Johnny Storm X Reader.
Tags: Halloween Horror Bingo 2024
HHB2024
Any personal tags: Book of the dead, probably end of the world.
A/N: This is my entry to @halloweenhorrorbingo.
Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.
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@saiyanprincessswanie
My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.
I don’t give any permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate my work myself) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. Please let me know if you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.
Add yourself to my taglist here.
My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 
If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.
Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield”agent78 @charmed”asylum @pandaxnienke @real”fbi @Smokeandnailz @white”wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @Harrysthiccthighss @Marvelatthisone @caplanbuckybarnes @sapphire”rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia”rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted @chemtrails”club  @marigoldreamer @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @Here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammit @kmc1989 @somegirlfromasgard @rogersbarber
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The day had started like any other, with Johnny Storm, mocking you as usual.
“Come on, you know all that stuff is nonsense,” he said as he fiddled with a fireball in his hand.
“Johnny, do you really believe that after facing beings from other dimensions and realities, there is nothing beyond what you can see? “You replied, folding your arms.
“It's not that I don't believe in weird stuff, you know I've seen it all,” he said, extinguishing the small flame with a wave of his hand. I'm just saying that cursed books and stuff like that sound like the plot of a bad horror movie.
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However, everything changed when Reed Richards led a mission. He had detected a disturbance at an archaeological dig in Egypt. Reed asked you to accompany Johnny to investigate, and although Johnny initially protested, he finally agreed.
As we flew over the dunes, Johnny kept making jokes about finding a cursed mummy or being haunted by some ancient spirit.
“Just make sure you don't light up near the relics, Johnny,” I said with a sarcastic grin. We don't want you reducing something millennia old to ashes.
“Relax, I always have everything under control,” he replied, leaning back in his seat.
Although Johnny took everything lightly, you knew that these kinds of artifacts were not to be underestimated.
The Egyptian sun beat down hard, and Johnny complained about the heat, which was ironic considering he himself could turn into a ball of fire whenever he wanted.
The head of the dig greeted them enthusiastically, showing us the latest finds: a series of subway tunnels that ran deep into the earth. The archaeologists had found hieroglyphs that mentioned an ancient sacred text, and Reed believed it might be connected to the Book of the Dead.
“This place is incredible,” you said as we walked through the tunnels. The texts tell of a pharaoh who tried to conquer death. The book we're looking for could be related to those rituals.
Johnny rolled his eyes.
“Sure, because nothing says 'fun' like a pharaoh obsessed with immortality.
As we moved deeper into the ruins, the walls were covered with symbols you didn't recognize, but which radiated a dark energy. Johnny, who up to that point had been making sarcastic comments, began to get more serious.
“Hey, don't you feel like the air is getting... weird in here? “he asked.
You nodded, feeling how the temperature seemed to drop strangely, despite the heat outside.
Finally, they came to a hidden chamber. In the center of the room, on a stone pedestal, was a book, the covers of which were made of what appeared to be ancient leather, and on them were drawn intricate symbols that seemed to move in the dim light of our lanterns.
“That must be the Book of the Dead,” you whispered.
Johnny approached slowly, inspecting the book with a raised eyebrow.
“It doesn't look so scary,” he said, reaching out to touch it.
“Wait! “We don't know what could be triggered if you touch it carelessly.
“Okay, I'll let you handle it. But if anything goes wrong, I'll light up and we'll get the hell out of here.
You nodded and pulled out a pair of special gloves Reed had designed for handling mystical artefacts. Carefully, you lifted the book from the pedestal. As soon as you did, the air in the chamber seemed to thicken, and a faint whisper filled the space.
“I think we woke him up,” Johnny murmured.
Before he could respond, the walls of the chamber began to shake. The symbols glowed with an intense light, and an icy wind, impossible in that place, rose up around you. Then, you saw it. A spectre, a figure shrouded in shadows, materialized in front of you. Its voice echoed in your head.
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isleofdarkness · 3 months ago
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excuse if this is a weird question or if youve answered this before, but . you have so much worldbuilding in your au. theres TONS of characters it feels like and im just so curious.. how do you keep track of all of it??? it looks so overwhelming but so freaking cool at the same time
ive tried personally to build off of the descendants world in my mind but its so hard even if i write any ideas down XD
To put it simply, there's a lot of stuff that goes on behind the scenes that you don't see.
I am also insane.
Well, this actually isn't the biggest project I've ever done. My very first fanfic, which was a mashup of Disney, Marvel, Monster High, Ever After High, Dreamworks, and paranormal lore, was way more complicated and had a cast of over three hundred named characters, and those were just the original characters. That was when I was ten. You could say I know my way around complicated lore and massive casts. I don't think I can write without having those things, really. I wouldn't know what to do with a small cast or simple worldbuilding.
My worldbuilding comes from being a massive nerd. Disney and Marvel are massive properties, they have so much for me to work with and Disney did the work for me in giving me an excuse to combine everything. I looked into the world of Disney properties, DC properties, Dreamworks properties, and the properties of other media I enjoy that I decided to include, and then I just combined them in a way I thought made sense. I also took inspiration from Earth 27, a really great fanwork that also combines a bunch of different fandoms and has a massive cast of characters, in some things I've done.
As for how I keep track of it, that's complicated. The politics of the world are common sense to me, since the politics in my work reflect my perception of the real world and how I think things should be improves. And then I know the changes I would make to the properties I've included, I know the things I think need fixed and that I chose to fix them. And then I have my lists. Gods, my lists. I have so many lists of fandoms, of characters, of crews, of kingdoms, of gods, of powers, of worldbuilding. You can see some of them in Isle of Darkness AU info, but those aren't even close to all of them. And then there's my tagging system. I do my best to character tag extensively, both for your guys' benefit and for me to make finding things on my blog easier.
Keep in mind that I'm not perfect at keeping track of things. There are things I've messed up that you guys probably haven't noticed or if you have, haven't pointed out to me. Continuity errors. That's to be expected with something as massive as what I'm doing. I do try to fix things when I notice them and do try to keep everything in order, but I mess up. A lot.
Also, this isn't my first Descendants AU. My original Descendants AU, written when I was like, fifteen, was me watching the movies and adding in one character, Riah, changing some events in minor ways, and that was it. I started simple. But by the time I got to the third book in that series, I realized that I wanted to worldbuild more. That third book veers massively into original work area because I wanted to add more of the supernatural, which led to the shedim plot. I realized that I had fun with that plot, so I started rewriting the series to include more fun stuff. That didn't last, because I wanted to include so much new stuff that the rewrite would be unrecognizable. Thus, Isle of Darkness was born. There was a long planning period, and then there's been a massive amount of things added because I'm doing an esoteric work. The Endless plot? Added that maybe halfway through chapter four. Maverick didn't exist at all until chapter two, and I didn't make the decision to make her a major character until chapter two of Isle of Darkness. The rebellion? Originally wasn't a plotline, I was going to go for something closer to what the movies did. Jasmine helping? Wasn't on the drawing board at all until recently. The supernatural properties? You have no idea how majorly those have changed as I've written this because I originally wasn't going to include angels, most demon and djinn stuff, Roman deities, Norse gods, Aztec gods, or Lovecraftian horror at all. Heck, Jay wasn't even originally a djinn! I wrote the first chapter and then read this excellent fic where Jay was a djinn, realized it made sense, and added it to chapter two. My worldbuilding looks complex but man, most of it is because my work is esoteric. I add stuff in as I go along and come up with a way to make it work. Most of this wasn't planned when I wrote chapter 1.
If you want advice or to talk through ideas I'm always up to answering more asks or private messaging. I'm sure you have wonderful ideas. Also, I don't know if you're comparing what you're doing to what I am, but if you are, don't. I am insane. My grandfather, a New York Times bestselling author, looks at my stuff and goes "Good lord." I have been creating stories for nearly twenty years- I started when I was three, that was when I created my first story about a team of superhero misfit animals. I have a lot of writing and storytelling experience, and I have a lot of experience in things so insane that most professional writers would fear me. These things are what make my particular story as it is told by me, a unique person as all people are, work. These things are not going to work for most people, just like small casts and simple worldbuilding aren't going to work for me. Every writer has their own individual strengths and their own individual weaknesses. Play to your strengths, not mine.
And just have a blast. God may judge you but his sins outnumber your own.
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klbwriting · 10 months ago
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Adventures In Atlantean-Sitting
Chapter 5
Fandom: Aquaman
Pairing: Ormxfemale!Reader
Warnings: some violence
Summary: Orm and YN are cooped up after a metahuman attack, but when its finally safe YN takes Orm to the amusement park
Notes: 'Orm is a witch in the woods' forever
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Orm’s attitude since the movie and diner date had improved immensely. He was still aggravated that he had to wear the bracelet, it itched, and he missed having his abilities, but YN wouldn’t budge. He could see now that trying to run had been a huge mistake and her trust was broken. He wasn’t sure he would ever earn it back and for some reason that irked him the most. The last few weeks they had been getting along great and he found that she was probably the best friend he had ever had. He didn’t realize that she felt the same way about him, but he hoped she did.
YN threw herself into showing Orm everything she could about the surface world. They went on hikes to lakes and wildflower fields where he asked her question after question about nature in the area. Turns out being alone for long amounts of time gives one all kinds of time to learn and YN was very knowledgeable. They would cook together, and she taught him how to bake, though those lessons normally ended with them covered in flour and noticing how much they liked the others’ laugh. And the movies, they went to the movie theater every weekend and watched different shows and movies every night on the couch. It was becoming a routine for them and Orm found he loved it. He was starting to wonder if that’s why he always used to be angry, maybe he, as YN liked to say, just wanted to be a witch who lives in the woods and gives out full size candy bars to the brave kids on Halloween. He had no idea what half of that statement meant, but he got the idea of it.
Another attack happened while Orm was there. They soon found out that it wasn’t Atlanteans, just run of the mill metahuman stuff, but YN still thought it was a good idea to stay inside for a couple weeks, make sure that Atlantis didn’t send anyone to poke around. They spent three weeks inside and by the end of it Orm was crawling up the walls. He didn’t like what the isolation was doing to YN either. Instead of doing things she normally did, she was hiding out with him because she was worried he would try to run again. Finally, he sat on the couch in the early afternoon and looked at her.
“We need to get out of here,” Orm said. YN looked at him from her place on the floor, reading. “You have read that book twice since we started this quarantine. No Atlanteans ever came looking for me, the city is rebuilding from the damage, it seems like a good time to get out and do something.” She put down the book and looked like she was in thought. “Let’s go to the movies.” Orm was trying very hard to get her to agree to go out, just for a little while.
“No, not the movies,” she said, rising. “Go get dressed, we’re doing something new, something I hope you’ll love.” Orm hopped up, not needing told again. They both went into the bedroom and Orm grabbed a shirt while YN grabbed some thinks from her closet. She turned to exit and Orm was already in his underwear, ready to throw on his new clothes. YN stared for a second. “You’ve been hiding all that.” Orm looked at himself.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said quickly, blushing as she headed to the bathroom to change. Orm smiled a little. They had been dancing around each other, flirting here and there, and it made his blood run a little faster knowing that she was attracted to him. He sighed. He had to face the fact sooner or later, at some point in time he had stopped thinking of YN as his babysitter, or even his friend, she was so much more than that. Maybe she felt the same way? After whatever activity they did today he would have to find out.
YN put her clothes on for what she planned with Orm and then she splashed some cold water on her face. Yes, Orm was hot, and yes, she was very interested in him beyond the fact that he was hot. Ever since he had arrived, she had been chipping away at his exterior and she loved what she found. If only he could feel the same way she did. But why would he? He was pretty much a step down from being a god, and she just a human, just his babysitter while he waited for Atlantis to forget about him. It was hopeless. She let out a breath and headed back to the living room. Orm was waiting and he smiled at her, and it made her heart flutter. Alright, maybe there was some hope.
Orm was staring. This place looked as bright and colorful as Atlantis, and he felt homesick for a moment. YN seemed to notice and frowned.
“Do you hate it?” she asked, clearly worried she had made a mistake bringing him to the amusement park on the pier. He slowly shook his head.
“No, its amazing, reminds me of my other home,” he said. YN’s heart nearly stopped.
“Your other home?” she asked. Atlantis was his home, what other home was there? It couldn’t be her little cottage. He looked down at her and smiled.
“Atlantis, this reminds of there, my home here is your place,” he said simply, as if it were the truest thing in the world. YN smiled back at him and took his head. “What do we do first?”
“Roller coaster let’s get that out of the way before we try to eat anything,” she said, pulling him in the direction of a large wooden track structure. As they got in line, he watched the cars going up and down the hills and he felt a little nervous.
“What is the point of this thing?” he asked, watching as someone got off the ride and immediately emptied their stomach in a trash can. YN pushed his face so he would stop watching and he wished she would touch him again like that, he loved it.
“It’s a thrill, for some people it’s the closest they get to flying,” she explained. They soon were on the ride and Orm was screaming and laughing as the coaster raced around the track. When it finished he wanted to go again, so they did. However, after the second time he started to feel dizzy and could understand why someone could get sick on that thing.
“That was amazing,” he said as they headed to ride something else. YN took him on everything, the swings, the pirate ship, the boat hide, the haunted house. It was nothing like he had experienced before and by the time they were getting funnel cakes to eat he was trying to figure out how to come back again the next day.
“I guess you like it here,” YN said as if reading his mind. He chuckled. “I hoped you would, I know its not easy being stuck with one person, or in one place, for a long time, I hope this whole thing hasn’t been too bad.” Orm shook his head.
“Honestly, this whole thing, the cottage, the movies, the rides, you, this has been the greatest thing to happen to me,” he said. YN eyes watered a little and he worried he had stepped too far, maybe she didn’t want him to think so highly of her.
“Thank you Orm, that is incredibly sweet,” she said. She moved around to his side of the table and kissed his cheek. He blushed and cleared his throat, putting an arm around her shoulders.
“How about we do one of those games. I see one with water guns, I have a feeling I could win you something,” he offered. She nodded and they threw their trash away, and picked up some other discarded trash as they went and headed to the games.
Orm was very successful with the water gun game. YN walked out of the park with a dolphin the size of her cottage pretty much, holding it under one arm while she held his hand. They walked down the beach, and she stopped him.
“Alright, here’s the best part,” she said, turning back to the park. Orm turned and frowned, wondering what she was talking about. Then he heard a boom and saw lights in the sky. It was amazing. “The fireworks,” she explained as a few more went off. She watched him as he watched the lights. Finally, he sensed her eyes on him, and he turned to her. He was suddenly pushed by some unknown force to kiss her. He leaned in just a little, but stopped, not sure she would want this. His eyes shifted to her lips and back to her eyes and she seemed to understand. She nodded. He didn’t need told again. His lips pressed to hers, his free hand wrapping around to hold her head as his tongue pushed at her lips. She opened them and he tasted her, and he knew he never wanted to taste anyone else again. This was the perfect moment and his heart had never felt so full. He was pissed when the explosion rocked the pier. He turned and before he could stop himself, he was running back towards the attack, YN following him.
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theambitiouswoman · 2 years ago
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How do I stop feeling so ugly? I feel like my looks hold me back so much and then I just get depressed, so I look worse … it’s a never ending cycle. My lack of self esteem is ruining my life but I just don’t know how to stop.
I'm sorry you're struggling with low self-esteem. Please remember that your worth isn’t tied to your physical appearance!
I want to completely start off by saying that you’re not ugly. None of you reading this are ugly. You may feel ugly, and that’s what shows in your appearance. The universe responds to how you treat yourself. How you treat yourself is how others will perceive and treat you.
You can work on yourself from the inside out or the outside in. Let’s discuss outside in, first.
Make a list and write down what you don’t like, and what you need to do to improve or how would your ideal self look. Don’t compare yourself to other girls. Focus on just YOU. Becoming your favorite version of you and not anyone else.
The first thing I recommend is for you to start working out and eating healthy foods. This is not me saying that your body needs to look a certain way. But feeling healthy contributes to a better self esteem. Working out releases endorphins, will help you feel better about yourself internally. And if body is a goal for you, then this is something you should focus on anyway.
Proper grooming and hygiene, changing your wardrobe and figuring out which compliments your body will quickly easily make you feel prettier and look more attractive. Yes, it’s true. Looking clean and polished shows people that you care about yourself and your appearance. It also makes you look more welcoming by just those little tweaks.
I strongly recommend you start by putting in the effort with that. People will notice, and you will notice people noticing- and it will help you feel better. Your confidence shouldn’t be based on external validation- but I do think it’s a great motivator.
Remember that hating yourself is not going to make you feel better or change the way you look for the better. You have to take the initiative. You have to be tired of feeling how you feel and start making changes for YOU. You are in control. And you deserve to feel good about yourself. Don’t throw yourself a pity party. You are a strong girl. You are a brave girl. You are a capable girl. You are a beautiful girl. And you are not going to get in the way of what feels good to you or your goals because you deserve those things too!
When it comes to doing the work from the inside out.. “if you feel pretty you look pretty” start by focusing on your positive qualities: Instead of fixating on your perceived flaws, try to focus on your positive qualities. Think about your strengths, talents, and accomplishments. Make a list of all the things you like about yourself that have nothing to do with your appearance.
Take care of yourself physically and emotionally. Eat a balanced diet, exercise regularly, and get enough sleep. Treat yourself to things that make you feel good, like a bubble bath, a good book, or a movie night.
When negative thoughts about your appearance arise, try to challenge them. Ask yourself if they are based in reality or if they are just your own negative self-talk. Replace negative thoughts with positive affirmations.
I love you! I hope you realize how beautiful and deserving you are soon 🫶
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