#maybe i'll refine it later

[shipping-receiving]

On vulnerability in Love Scout

I’ve been seeing a few comments here and there asking what Jiyun “offers” to Eunho and what she can bring to their potential relationship, especially considering how much he does for her both materially and emotionally. While this is one method of determining if their relationship is truly balanced, I wonder if a straightforward measurement of give-and-take can effectively assess their dynamic, especially given their current employer-employee status. After all, since Eunho is Jiyun's secretary, so much of his caretaking can be seen as a natural extension of his job scope, although of course he has gone above and beyond professional expectations (and boundaries).

Jiyun can’t easily reciprocate Eunho’s acts of service within the limits of their (thus far) professional relationship – even if she is starting to do so by buying him food and coffee etc. On top of that, she is an inherently guarded person. It’s difficult to say what she can “offer” because she’s not in a position to offer anything besides his salary. It’s also much easier to see the value that he has added to her life because her struggles were emphasised from the start in very visible ways (messiness, insomnia, her trip to the hospital), while he seemed to live a very full life with Byeol.

Therefore, perhaps a better measure of their mutual compatibility and support is in the vulnerabilities that they allow themselves to show around each other – when they let themselves to be something other than the ‘perfection’ that they’ve defined for themselves. Again, it’s more obvious when Jiyun’s walls come down (expressing joy, letting herself be helped/comforted, falling asleep), because it is such a contrast to her stern, no-nonsense, ultra-professional demeanour. With Eunho, it’s not so clear, because his warmth and compassion can easily be mistaken for openness. Yet his pleasantness can also be a shield; a way to deflect uncomfortable feelings by minimising himself for the well-being of others. The most obvious example of this is when he maintains his amiability even in the face of outright mistreatment from his former boss. But it’s also in how he defaults to being the pillar of strength and the ‘fixer’ in social situations. 

In fact, almost all of Eunho’s true moments of vulnerability and honesty have come only in Jiyun’s presence. First, and more circumstantially, the frustration and anger at her for trying to poach the developer in Episode 1, and his desperation to keep his new job as her secretary in Episode 2. Then, more purposefully, when he tells her about why he took paternal leave; the challenges of his previous job; the fact that he was orphaned at a young age; his worries about fatherhood. These are not the only times he’s discussed his anxieties with another character – he did so with his ex-colleague when he was in danger of losing his first job, and with Suhyeon when Jiyun was still being difficult – but both of those times, he was also binging something sugary as a coping mechanism, and speaking in generalities with a tone of resigned acceptance. He’s simply not in the habit of showing so much of himself (i.e. his ‘imperfections’) to another person; even his beloved senior/Mi-ae’s husband doesn’t know why he got divorced.

Of course, everything he has revealed to Jiyun has been in response to her very direct questions. But I don’t think it’s just about that. As much as Jiyun can be a mess, she is also a very stable and confident person who is a good judge of the characters and motivations of others. That’s what makes her so good at speaking to both clients and targets, which Eunho himself has observed first-hand. Jiyun inspires trust and respect, which is (part of the reason) why he feels comfortable revealing the parts of himself that aren’t so ‘put-together’. Furthermore, he’s seen that she’s not incapable of the sincerity that he so readily offers to other people, even while being very rational and principled. This is not just Eunho “rubbing off on her” as Jiyun observes in herself in Episode 6. It’s just that her sincerity, which is a form of emotional vulnerability for her, has often only felt ‘safe’ to use as a strategy in appropriate professional situations.

Jiyun’s interactions with Byeol shed further light on the positive aspects of Jiyun’s personality. It would have been easy for her character to be written as cold or awkward around kids. Instead, there is a mutual respect between her and Byeol, with whom she’s not afraid to discuss more difficult personal topics (at least in an abstract sense). Jiyun treats Byeol like a fully-formed person with agency, takes genuine interest in her independent of any connection to Eunho, and is able to be supportive in her own way without pandering or patronising. It’s the very things that make Jiyun “cool” in Byeol’s eyes that gives us clues about what Eunho admires in her.

In a recent interview (a very cute one conducted by Ki So-yu, who plays Byeol), Han Jimin says that with Eunho in her life, Jiyun’s “sharp and prickly points have softened and become smoother”. Conversely, I think Jiyun is someone who gives Eunho room to show the roughness beneath his rounder, gentler exterior, which he otherwise takes such pains to smooth over.

[girlkisserr]

some messy limbus doodles from magma

[dailyabella]

breath of the moon

[wake-up-lieutenant]

..hey would anyone be interested in a small interactive/branching dbh fanfic

it's basically an interrogation AU with Connor interrogating Kara but you can play as either of them; it has 7 endings total.

edit: adding the link :D

[artbyhauk]

one of my greatest fears as a game developer is putting all of this effort into making an interesting, sexy, power fantasy of a transmasc main character only for the game to never find its audience and it to be completely forgotten

success is relative but i want trans men to know him, play as him, and feel that i made him for us

[milaza]

i really like doing pieces with complex compositions but there's always like a million things i only notice after posting that i want to fix...

[mikodrawnnarratives]

once i finish screenshotting my renegades posts i might go and number them so i can put them into a wheel that i'll spin and it'll act as my prompter to remind me "hey hey hey you should go practice your writing and write for this"

[threadmonster]

MSBY Black Jackals' bikini spotted at the JCPenney! 😭😭😭 I had to do it

I ain't proud of it, I don't know what the hell is up with the shading or face - I know that's not how things work, if I was using my computer I would have taken more time with it BUT GUYS I DID A SILLY, STUPID ART THING. I used to draw stupid shit all the time when I was a kid and man, it was fun.

[luxcuriousao3]

Summary: You're Kyle's old friend, and you've had a crush on him for ages. Too bad he has no idea, and leaves you high and dry to fuck some other girl. Thankfully, Price comes to the rescue. Word Count: 2140 Warnings: sfw, emotional hurt/comfort, alcohol, can be read as platonic Price/Reader Notes: This was supposed to be about Gaz showing off his hot gf to the 141 and making them jealous... but he was not cooperating lol. So now we have this. If I ever continue this, it will be a Gaz/Reader/Price love triangle, but who knows if I'll get the inspiration or have the time lol. As it is right now, it's just a moment of Reader being sad and silly and Price being the gentleman we all know he is. (Masterlist)

Gaz hasn't done a modeling gig since before he signed up to join the military, but he keeps in contact with the friends he made during that part of his life. One of whom (you) happens to have had a crush on him for years.

You've never said anything, though, and Kyle either knows and ignores it, or is completely oblivious. Either way, when you meet his team for the first time, you entertain their lingering stares in a way you wouldn't usually, hoping it will make Kyle jealous. Hoping it will make him spontaneously realize that he's been in love with you this whole time.

No such luck.

Kyle is a gentleman, making sure you're safe and comfortable and having a good time, but he doesn't pay you any special sort of attention, playing pool with Soap ("Call me Johnny") and not turning away the girl who sidles up next to him, asking him to teach her.

You maybe, possibly, definitely drink too much to try and soothe the ache in your heart.

Kyle and Pool Girl leave together when you're only two drinks deep and can convincingly act the part of "sober friend who is definitely fine with being abandoned for you to go fuck a stranger, Kyle, absolutely, I'm going home soon anyway." Soap-Call-Me-Johnny slides into the seat across from you and next to Ghost ("If you call me Simon I'll shoot you.") He starts trying to chat you up, and he's at least a lot more personable than his masked teammate, who has been sipping his pint and staring at you unflinchingly for the last half hour while you pine for Kyle from afar. You're not entirely sure why Ghost was observing you so intently, but if you weren't already well on your way to tipsy-town, you'd be severely creeped out. As it is, you figure he's trying to a) decide where he recognizes you from or b) make you so uncomfortable you leave. Or maybe work up the courage to hit on you. Unlikely, given he hasn't said a word to you this whole time since introductions were made, but not entirely impossible. Unfortunately for him, if that's what he's going for, you're not biting. The whole silent and mysterious schtick is so not your thing.

Johnny, on the other hand, is definitely trying to hook up. He is not subtle about it at all, despite his superior officer being right next to him. But he, too, is not your type—charming and handsome, certainly, but too... energetic. You prefer a proper, refined gentleman—it's why you'd fallen for Kyle—and while Ghost is stoically silent, Johnny talks so much you can barely get a word in edgewise.

You think about giving Johnny some friendly advice that he should... not talk less, but perhaps leave openings for other people to respond. But based on the way Ghost is hanging off every one of Johnny's words, you're pretty sure you'd get a knife to the gut for your trouble.

Those two end up heading out together a while later, leaving you alone with Kyle's Captain—Price, you think. It's a bit hard to remember with how fuzzy your head has gotten, and Probably-Price seems to notice how done in you are just from a single look.

"Going to have to have a talk with Kyle about leaving a woman alone and vulnerable like this," he says as he gently loosens the death grip you have on the stem of your empty cocktail glass. You blink sluggishly at him, wondering if he's joking, but he seems genuinely upset on your behalf—lips pursed beneath his mustache, a furrow between his bushy brows, blue eyes flinty. His eyes aren't beautiful like Kyle's—big and deep and brown like a well-steeped cup of tea, or an expensive mahogany table, you can never decide which shade is closer—but you find yourself staring at them anyway.

In the dim lighting of the pub, they're more grey than blue, hooded and adorned with fine wrinkles at the edges, ones you didn't notice earlier but do now that you're up close. You know he's older than Kyle—and thus yourself—by a fair few years, and you feel a bit like a misbehaving child being caught out by their father.

"Sorry," you murmur, looking down at the table as you're suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to cry. You blink again to try and keep the tears at bay, but a sniffle escapes. Embarrassed and dizzy, you lay your head on the table with a groan.

"Didn't— didn't mean to so— to dr— to get so. Drunk," you finally manage to get out, words halting and slurred. Your embarrassment only grows worse at how badly you stumble through a single sentence.

"S'alright, love," Kyle's captain says, laying a comforting hand on your upper back and rubbing slow circles on it. It's grounding, and you focus on his touch, trying to still the spinning in your head. After a moment, he speaks again. "Let's get you home, hmm?"

You nod, peeling yourself off the table and trying to hop down from the raised booth. You realize what a stupid idea that is a second later when your spindly heels fail to hold up your drunken, uncoordinated weight—so much for having a model's grace—and with an undignified yelp, you face plant onto the floor.

Or you would, if Kyle's captain doesn't catch you the second you stumble, his big, warm hands landing on your waist as he redirects you to fall into him instead.

"Easy now," he says, deep voice rumbling in his chest—which is quite broad and solid, but not uncomfortably hard like the male models you usually work with—beneath your ear. You shiver at the feeling of the vibrations traveling across your skin, and it takes you a moment to realize you're turned on by it. You cringe at yourself, taking a deep breath to try and clear your mind so you'll stop acting so sloppy—but instead, you just get a deep whiff of Price's scent. That only makes your situation worse, because he smells good—like some sort of spicy cigar smoke, the top shelf whiskey he'd been sipping on, and good old English oak.

"You smell nice," you tell him, because you're drunk and have zero filter left. The regret is instant when you realize what you've said, but Price doesn't seem to mind, based on the low chuckle that escapes him.

"Thank you, darling," he says, and you can hear the amusement in his voice. At least one of you is having fun.

Kyle's probably having lots of fun with Pool Girl, a voice in your head reminds you none too kindly, and the tears escape before you can stop them this time.

A calloused thumb wipes the salty trails away, and Price grips your chin gently, tilting your face up towards him.

“What’s all this for, then?” He asks, and just like before, he truly seems to care. It’s that that makes you crack, you think. That and the alcohol.

“I— I got all dr-dr-dressed up for— for him and he— he w-went home with P-Pool Girl!” You sob, lips quivering and shoulders shaking. You probably have snot dripping down your face. Good lord, you’re a mess. You’re a mess and you’re probably embarrassing Kyle in front of his Captain—what if Price tells him how sloppy you’d gotten and Kyle never wants to see you again? Suddenly desperate, you clutch onto the man’s sweater-jacket, fingers twisting into the fabric as you stare at him with big, panicked eyes. “P-please don’t— don’t tell him or— or m-make him scrub the— um, the— the loos!”

“Oh, he’ll be on latrine duty for months, alright,” Price says darkly, and you wail. Loudly. Price immediately tucks your face into his neck to muffle the sound, petting your hair as he tries to calm you down. “Shhh, lovie, s'alright. You haven’t done anything wrong. M’gonna take you home now, yeah? Can you tell me where your place is?”

Through your tears, you tell him the address of the little flat you share with your roommate. You’re not well known enough yet in the modelling industry to get paid the big bucks, so you’re stuck with the other girl for now, no matter how nasty she can be.

You don’t remember most of the drive there—you think you must have fallen asleep at some point—but you come back to yourself when Price gently shakes you awake after parking in front of your building. He walks you to the door, putting up with you hanging off his arm like a limpet so you don’t fall again. There’s another blank stretch in your memory, but then you’re lying in bed, still in the outfit you had spent so much time picking out tonight, only for Kyle to barely look at you twice. You groan in embarrassment, pulling your legs up to your chest so you can curl into a ball and hide from the world—or you try to, but you abruptly realize someone is holding onto one of your feet. You shriek in fear, sitting up sharply—and then promptly plop back down when you’re hit over the head with vertigo so bad you almost lose your three (four?) espresso martinis and… however many shots you had. It’s definitely not good that you can’t recall, but at least you don’t have work tomorrow.

You suddenly remember that there is someone in your room and they are holding your foot hostage, so you do the only thing that you can think of in that situation—you try to kick them. From the loud oof you hear, you’re successful, and you feel momentary pride that you’ve wounded your would-be attacker—at least until he speaks.

“S’a strong kick you got there, love. Kyle teach you that?”

“Oh fuck,” you blurt out, because you recognize that voice. It’s Kyle’s captain. The man you’d confessed your crush on his subordinate to, cried all over, and made take you home. And now he’s here, in your room… holding your foot. For some reason. Drunkenly, you ask for clarification. “Why are you trying to steal my foot?”

There’s silence, and then a loud, booming laugh. He lets go of your foot, standing up so you can see the pair of heels he’s holding in his hands. Your heels. That you had been wearing. He was taking them off of you. To steal them.

“Wait, don’t— don’t take those, those are my— my, um. Lou— Loobtons. Loooobtons. Loo-ee-batons? Lubes. Um. My red bottoms… don’t take them. Please?”

“Nice as they are, darling, I’ve no need for high heels,” Price says, still chuckling, and sets the heels down the shoe rack next to your closet. “I’m not takin’ ‘em. Just didn’t want you getting your bed dirty.”

“Oh,” you say, blinking several times in a row, and then nodding. “Right… that— that makes sense. Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Price echoes, and his face is kind of blurry because there’s two of him and you’re not sure which one to focus on, but you think he’s smiling. You wish you could see it better—he probably has a really nice smile. The two Prices move closer, leaning over you and turning you on your side.

“Um,” you say, because what else are you supposed to do in this situation? It’s starting to feel like all those anti-rape ads you always see. “Do I need to kick you again?”

Rather than be offended, Price just chuckles again, and you can’t help but calm a little bit at the sound of it. When he pulls a blanket over you rather than climb into bed behind you, you relax fully.

“Oh,” you repeat. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he tells you, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “And if you ever feel afraid like that, trust your gut. Better to overreact and be wrong than underreact and face the consequences.”

Price’s voice is darker now, harder, and you think you’re seeing a glimpse of the man that Kyle must know. It’s a bit intimidating, but also kind of hot, and you nod obediently. It’s good advice, after all.

“Thank you for helping me,” you say quietly. You may be drunk, but you still have manners. “You’re really nice, Mr. Price.”

A beat, and then you giggle at the unintentional rhyme, finding it hilarious in your drunken state.

“Call me John,” Price says, pulling up the blanket a little more when you shiver, so it’s right under your chin.

“Okay, John,” you agree easily, and then close your eyes. You’re exhausted, and heartbroken but trying not to think about it, and still really dizzy. Sleep sounds like exactly what you need right now. “Night night.”

“Goodnight, love,” John answers. You hear his footsteps walking away, but you’re out before he even reaches the door.

[koalayoo]

Men who talk a certain way.

They carry themselves with elegance, talk with a poised cadence unique to them. They hold themselves upright and have an air of superiority. A cunning look, signature smirk, firm hand; these are staples of their character, they know how to strike a deal. Whether for their people or their own gain, they intimidate those to gain an advantage no matter how many exploits gone through or people exploited.

People either love or fear them.

They’re important.

It’s no surprise that they sit at the centre of the table at a meeting, commanding attention. All eyes are on them, gripping their every word. Prompt nods and murmurs of agreements follow. They’re smart too. Incredible wit and perceptiveness as they continuously glance at everyone, especially you.

Fuck, and they’re hot too.

It makes your blood run hot. Jolts shoot throughout your body and you avert your gaze. It was stupid to you to be losing your cool for a man who felt indifferent about your existence. Maybe that isn’t the right word. 

Sometimes, you would question whether he hated you. Whenever you needed a pen, your hands brushed against one another for a second and he would quickly pull back as if being stung by a bee with a slight scowl forming on his face. If the piles of paper you needed to finish took too long, he would be adamant you finish for the night, which is all fine and dandy if he wasn’t looking for help from others to complete your work. He even reprimanded you, talked to you in that familiar stern tone once for not having your priorities in place when a stranger came up to you in a flirtatious manner as if you could control that. 

He pissed you off. 

Why couldn’t he care about you like a normal person?

However, you were wrong about all of it. He cared too much.

When your fingers grazed him he was ridden with guilt, these were the same hands he would think about at night. Imagine tracing the sharp edges of his skin. He would shut his eyes and throw his head back, replacing his hands with your own. Try to commit the soft feel of yours to his. Would you go slow or fast? He wondered. How would you hold him? Would you let him make a mess? His thoughts would trail on and on questioning your grip, your face, what you would say.

So, it was no surprise when he saw you working yourself to exhaustion that he wanted you to rest. That was his duty after all. Only he could do that. The eyes that he desperately wanted to see glazed over with a lust filled haze needed to be well rested first. That way, he could slowly see them become drunk for him, turning red, bloodshot from just how well he would treat you.

And it was especially no surprise that when another person had the audacity to want you too, he had to stop them. Sure, you didn’t deserve the scolding but he would make you feel so much better later on. He just had to be patient.

Had to keep his tone steady and tame. Pretend to treat you just like everyone else. Even if you thought he hated you. He could fuck you like that too if you wanted. He would give you anything you wanted. However, you didn’t deserve to know how depraved he truly was.

There was a thought that lingered at the forefront of his mind. If you found out just how he imagined you, would you leave? He figured you might feel disgusted, a man of his caliber, his power, wanting to succumb to you. And so he continued to talk. Continued to keep his tone steady. Keep his tone tame. 

He would keep himself in line; refined. Because if you found out how he was imagining you, perhaps then this man would truly feel fear.

fantasising about...

Sylus, NEUVILLETTE, Jing Yuan, Welt, Sunday, DAN HENG, Artem, Zhongli!, Gepard, Alhaitham?, Cyno ...and anyone else you're thinking of

Hope you liked this! Inspired by the song 'Talk' by Hozier. Specifically the line, "So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you." Please give it a listen! It was in my Spotify Top 5 it's so good and captures the vibe I was trying to go for with this. Sorry for the yap. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated!

[nowoyas]

Trying to make sense of the Nanowrimo statement to the best of my abilities and fuck, man. It's hard.

It's hard because it seems to me that, first and foremost, the organization itself has forgotten the fucking point.

Nanowrimo was never about the words themselves. It was never about having fifty thousand marketable words to sell to publishing companies and then to the masses. It was a challenge, and it was hard, and it is hard, and it's supposed to be. The point is that it's hard. It's hard to sit down and carve out time and create a world and create characters and turn these things into a coherent plot with themes and emotional impact and an ending that's satisfying. It's hard to go back and make changes and edit those into something likable, something that feels worth reading. It's hard to find a beautifully-written scene in your document and have to make the decision that it's beautiful but it doesn't work in the broader context. It's fucking hard.

Writing and editing are skills. You build them and you hone them. Writing the way the challenge initially encouraged--don't listen to that voice in your head that's nitpicking every word on the page, put off the criticism for a later date, for now just let go and get your thoughts out--is even a different skill from writing in general. Some people don't particularly care about refining that skill to some end goal or another, and simply want to play. Some people sit down and try to improve and improve and improve because that is meaningful to them. Some are in a weird in-between where they don't really know what they want, and some have always liked the idea of writing and wanted a place to start. The challenge was a good place for this--sit down, put your butt in a chair, open a blank document, and by the end of the month, try to put fifty thousand words in that document.

How does it make you feel to try? Your wrists ache and you don't feel like any of the words were any good, but didn't you learn something about the process? Re-reading it, don't you think it sounds better if you swap these two sentences, if you replace this word, if you take out this comma? Maybe you didn't hit 50k words. Maybe you only wrote 10k. But isn't it cool, that you wrote ten thousand words? Doesn't it feel nice that you did something? We can try again. We can keep getting better, or just throwing ourselves into it for fun or whatever, and we can do it again and again.

I guess I don't completely know where I'm going with this post. If you've followed me or many tumblr users for any amount of time, you've probably already heard a thousand times about how generative AI hurts the environment so many of us have been so desperately trying to save, about how generative AI is again and again used to exploit big authors, little authors, up-and-coming authors, first time authors, people posting on Ao3 as a hobby, people self-publishing e-books on Amazon, traditionally published authors, and everyone in between. You've probably seen the statements from developers of these "tools", things like how being required to obtain permission for everything in the database used to train the language model would destroy the tool entirely. You've seen posts about new AI tools scraping Ao3 so they can make money off someone else's hobby and putting the legality of the site itself at risk. For an organization that used to dedicate itself to making writing more accessible for people and for creating a community of writers, Nanowrimo has spent the past several years systematically cracking that community to bits, and now, it's made an official statement claiming that the exploitation of writers in its community is okay, because otherwise, someone might find it too hard to complete a challenge that's meant to be hard to begin with.

I couldn't thank Nanowrimo enough for what it did for me when I started out. I don't know how to find community in the same way. But you can bet that I've deleted my account, and I'll be finding my own path forward without it. Thanks for the fucking memories, I guess.

[yanoverload]

𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖! 𝕊𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕤𝕤

This time, the portrait is at the end of the post, and you will see why!

The story is based on a magic fictional world, much like those in villainess isekai manhwas. 

I promise I don't hate any church ok. I only used words related to real life as a way to make it understandable.

Also you thought Dae-Ho was cuckoo? HAH THIS GUY IS SO MUCH WORSE.

Also I'll post a drawing of "Anneliese" later for you guys to imagine her.

ℍ𝕚𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕝 "𝔸𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕤𝕖" 𝕊𝕔𝕙ä𝕗𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟜 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝟙𝟟𝟟 𝕔𝕞 (𝕠𝕣 𝟝’𝟠 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕥)

🌟 As much as it likes to deny, the high church knew they had enemies. 

🌟 They were far and between, but they refused to leave until the current administration of said holy empire was destroyed.

🌟 That was at least, the current plan of the biggest assassination guild known on the six empires, also known as Tartaros. 

🌟 And they had the perfect guy for the job. 

🌟 Codename Carnelian, actually named Himmel, was the orphaned son of two well known alchemists at older times.

🌟 Said alchemists were killed by the church in the hunt for what they were currently called: defectives.

🌟 To seem merciful and holy, the children of the holy criminals were spared, but kept in church facilities that the unfortunate that live there call "detention center".

🌟 Alchemists aren't hard to identify, for their eyes look like that of the most refined jewels, said to be able to see the nature and essence of all elements on earth.

🌟 That was why, the only way Himmel managed to escape was learning glamour magic, disguising as a common nun.

🌟 Now, not only with that card in his hands, as well as years of studying the ins and outs of the institution, he was picked for the master plan.

🌟 Infiltrate the church, steal the love the worshippers have for it, and kill the high priest.

And oh, how Himmel drooled thinking about the day. 

🌟 Oh right, he's not Himmel for the time being. He's "Anneliese" the beloved and revered saintess.

🌟 It took a while to get the recognition, he admits, but how easy it is to fool everyone with a sweet and fragile looking persona.

🌟 What he didn't anticipate at the time however, was the plan the high priest had for him.

🌟 How genius it would be, to make the saintess betrothed to the ruler of the second biggest empire in their world.

🌟 The emperor/empress was the biggest stone in the church's shoes, as one of the only that didn't impose their religion on their people.

🌟 So their political move was to throw the saintess as a pawn and a spy in said empire.

🌟 That put a bit of a slow down to the Tartaros' plan.

🌟 What also slowed down their plan was Himmel's feelings.

🌟 He was taught to love no one. But even when he showed up in your own palace, you treated the saintess, someone you should hate and wish to throw to the wolves, with utmost respect and care, like a fragile doll.

🌟 And how was he supposed to not care for you when you hated the church just as much as he did?

🌟 Maybe being an empress wasn't so bad! He just had to seduce you, and after the downfall of the church, you would keep him by your side.

🌟 He didn't expect you to come back from your hunting trip so soon though.

🌟 So now, as you enter the meeting room expecting to meet certain higher ups and some kissasses of the high priest, you instead find a blonde shirtless man, covered in blood, corpses littered at his feet.

🌟 Not being the empress/emperor for nothing, you reach for your sword, but your keen eyes notice something.

🌟 A burn scar that looks like the Callisto star, the brightest in the sky, right at the back of the man's throat.

🌟 The same Saintess Anneliese has.

🌟 Burn marks being the one impossible thing to remove with spells.

🌟 The man looks at you with euphoria and obsession in his eyes.

"My love, you're back earlier than I expected. Did you know these bastards were secretly planning a coup? But don't worry, I took care of them."

🌟 In the state of shock at your discovery, you barely notice his arms slinging at your shoulders, close to you like one would to a lover.

🌟 But Anneliese or whatever this freak decides to go by, is not a lover in your eyes. They are like a Venus flytrap, seductive persona trying to swallow you whole.

🌟 He whispers in your ear.

"Let me be your executioner, and I shall turn you into god."

[beachf4gz]

I know you've reblogged some fic art before, but do you have any other Harry/Kim fics you really liked/would recommend? (Maybe even non-harry/Kim fics if you're into that lol)

oh my god i didnt answer ok ok yeah i'll find some and mb add to it later when i log back into my ao3 account. fanfiction man over here. no smut except incidental to fics i rlly enjoyed bc sex repulsed (sad + sorry).

FAV EVER is the repeater corpse conundrum , adore how the pale is written and it was very touching to me personally bc i felt like the experience of delerium was genuinely written perfectly, it felt like a memory or some shit i adore it, vaguely triggering to if u have experiences of delerium states ig bc its so vivid but yeah fucking sick.

the catacomb killer is a personal favourite bc the trope of like, false accusation and shit has been deeply deeply appealing to me since i was like 4, it was why i got my first ever special interest (christianity and the bible) and got christened bc i have always fucked w it harrrd.

the rescue is really odd- def not for everyone bc yk like human cow milk stuff- but i found it rlly touching and like just a really moving and rlly insightful metaphor for how ostracisation and dehumanisation functions in the characters. i have drawn fanart of this b4 :-b

the birdcage series was a longass rlly well thought out casefic- i just really liked how obviously passionate about writing a mystery the author was and good if u r into worldbuilding.

a toast to the pigs is currently unfinished and on hiatus but i fucking LOVE this au, kim and harry are so well thought thru j awesome, i have also drawn fanart 4 this one before i j love it.

rewind, refine is an awesome roleswap, especially love how harry is written in it- feels really thought out and j a lovely au tbh.

[veronica--blog]

You can't even imagine how much I love this picture. Of course, there's a lot of things that could be added to it, but I can hardly mentally handle it. Maybe I'll refine it and post it again later, though, hahah

About the lore: it's pretty loose so far and a lot of things I'm making up as I go along. Things may change because of that. For now, I can say as far as facts that will definitely not change.

1. Miko is a yokai. Specifically a white tiger. This plays an important role in this story.

2. Optimus and the others are not gods. Or rather, not really. They're more like angels or something.

3. Ratchet and Miko still don't get along very well. I would say that their relationship is even more complicated for a number of reasons.

4. Optimus interacts with the guys more often in this AU, including Miko. And their relationship is much warmer.

[heeliopheelia]

MERRY CHRISTMAS – christmas clichés with enhypen

𝘪 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘴

event masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

As you’ve stubbornly decided on having a real christmas tree this time, the both of you have found yourself on this huge christmas tree farm only three hours away from your home. 

Heeseung was kind enough to agree to your ridiculous idea and drove you here with little to no objections after you bargained with an evening full of cuddles and kisses.

“No, I want a taller one!” You fuss as you cross your arms over your chest. 

“Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but it won't fit into our living room,” Heeseung sends you a mocking smile, rolling his eyes at you half heartedly. “Go get the wider one and let's go. I think I'll need to get my toes amputated if we stay here five minutes longer.”

“Well, sucks to be you but you still have to drive us back,” you say pointedly as you walk past him and further into another alley full of pines. “And I'm not getting the wider tree you’re so stupidly obsessed with – we're not leaving until I find the right one.”

Heeseung scoffs with amusement at your stubbornness but follows after you immediately. Not even two minutes later, the two of you are bickering over your purchase again. 

“It's thin and ugly, Heeseung, how can you even suggest buying that crap? You’ve got no taste,” You look at the tree with distaste, then side eye your boyfriend. 

“It's not ugly,” he protests, flicking your nose. “And my taste is very refined compared to yours, thank you.”

“You know what, you’re right. You’re dating me after all,” you say, scrunching your nose up. 

The two of you turn another corner and stop frozen in your tracks, gaping with held breaths at the most perfect christmas tree you’ve ever laid your eyes upon.

“Are you seeing this?” Heeseung breathes out as a grin displays on his face.

“We’re getting this one!” The both of you shout simultaneously, excitement filling your voices.

You jog over to the tree giddily, dragging Heeseung along with you. When you stop in front of it, you turn around and raise on your toes to press a kiss to his cold lips.

“C’mon!” Then you giggle playfully. “I'm a good girlfriend so maybe I’ll even let you pay…” 

“Aren’t I just so lucky?” He teases and presses a kiss to your cheek to hide the smile that’s blossomed on his lips after hearing your giggle.

PARK JAY

With a silent nudge to your side, Jay lifts the spoon with soup to your lips. You instantly open your mouth and let him feed you. 

Your eyebrows rise as you smile at him while nodding your head. “That’s really good!” 

You and Jay are cooking dinner as his parents are supposed to come today. You can't say that you're not nervous – you've only met them three times before, so this pressure keeps resting on your chest ever since the morning.

You are a chaotic mess at this point, so if not for Jay's composure to balance it out, you'd probably end up burning the house down twice today. 

And so it's no surprise when the knife you're cutting the vegetables with slips a little and cuts into the skin on your finger. You jerk your hand away quickly, a pained hiss leaving your mouth. 

Jay walks up to you with furrowed eyebrows, wordlessly taking your slightly trembling hand in his and lifting it up to look at the cut. 

“It's nothing, I just wasn't paying enough attention,” you say as you try to pull your hand away but he only gently leads you to the sink and pours cold water on your wound. 

“You need to be more careful,” he says quietly, stroking your palm with his thumb under the cool stream. 

“I know, I just… I don't know what's wrong with me today,” you mumble out, averting your eyes from him. 

But Jay knows you better than anyone else, so he only lets out a small hum before wiping your hand dry with a paper towel, then carefully patches your finger up with a band aid. 

“Stop worrying so much, sweetheart,” he finally says, voice soothing as he lifts your hand up and presses a gentle kiss against it. “Everything's gonna be fine.”

And you let him pull you into his arms, wrapping your own around his waist. 

“I know, I can't really help it,” you mumble into his shirt. “I just don't want to let anybody down today.”

“You won't,” he assures you firmly before leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Especially not me. I love you. There's not much you could do to disappoint me, trust me.”

You begin to smile again, feeling the tension slightly leaving your system. “I love you too. Thank you.”

“It's nothing. Now let's go finish this dinner, hm?”

SIM JAKE

“Oh god, babe, look at that.” Jake stumbles backwards with laughter as he takes the hanger off the rack and shows you probably the most hideous Christmas sweater existing. 

“Where the hell did you find it?” You giggle, scrunching your nose as you look at the obnoxious Santa’s favorite ho sewn with red thread right in the center of the sweater. “It’s so ugly!”

Once his cackles cease slightly, he walks over to you and shows you the item from up close.

“Please, please, please,” he begs with wide eyes, pressing a peck after peck to your lips. “You have to try this on for me.” 

And how were you supposed to refuse his sparkling eyes? Now you’re cursing yourself for being so whipped for your boyfriend as you stare at your reflection, torso wrapped up in the green itchy clothing. 

It takes all of your might not to run and hide as Jake slides the curtain of the dressing room to the side before quickly slipping inside the tight space too. He looks you up and down before a low whistle leaves his mouth.

“Damn, would you look at that?” He says with a toothy smile, spinning you around as you roll your eyes. “See? I knew you could make it work. You’re just different type of fine.” 

You scoff at his words and raise your eyebrow. He steps even closer to you, refusing to let you go no matter how hard you try. Of course he would get all excited now out of all times. Now that you don’t have more than half an hour before the mall closes and you still have two more presents to buy for your families. 

“Is it bad that I kinda wanna buy it for you now?” He grins, placing his hands on both of your hips before pulling you close to his chest and kissing your jawline a little too sultrily for this stuffy dressing room.

You push on his chest with a giggle, trying to get away from him. “You need to be stopped.”

“Well, I know for a fact you’re my favorite ho-”

“Jake!” 

PARK SUNGHOON

Loud laughter booms from behind you as you tumble to the icy ground again, your skates absolutely refusing to cooperate with you today. Within couple seconds, you feel a pair of strong hands wrapping under your arms from behind and you’re being pulled up again. As you try to balance yourself again, you find yourself slipping again and crashing backwards into your boyfriend’s chest.

“If I knew you were such a clutz, I wouldn’t even have tried to bring you here,” Sunghoon teases, sneaking his arms around your waist and keeping you close. 

Your eyes roam around the crowd, praying that this fall wasn’t as spectacular as your previous one and didn’t capture the attention of half of the ice rink. You sigh in relief when you notice no one is looking this time before tapping Sunghoon’s palm.

“Turn me around, please,” you ask him and he obliges with a chuckle, spinning you around until you’re facing his grin. 

“Already giving up?” He raises his eyebrow, squeezing your waist gently. 

You sigh. “I don’t know.” Leaning forward, you rest your head on his sweater cladded chest. “You never told me it was this hard.”

Sunghoon pats your back as he coos at you but you can still hear the way he’s biting his smile back. 

“Stop laughing at me!” 

You smack his arm, pulling away only to be greeted by a soft kiss placed on your nose. 

“C’mon, I’ll help you,” he says, reaching his gloved hand for you to take. When you look at him suspiciously, he rolls his eyes and grabs your hand himself. “I’m being for real this time.”

And since you’re unable to say no to him, you end up nodding your head and let him skate over to your side to wrap his arm around your waist firmly, guiding you slowly. 

And this time, he’s made it his personal mission to never let you fall again, doing everything in his might to not let you grow discouraged towards the sport he loves nearly as much as you.

KIM SUNOO

"You’ve put way too much butter in there," Sunoo points out, watching with a raised eyebrow as you form another greasy cookie and place it on the edge of the tray.

"I don’t remember asking for your opinion," you smile at him with an attitude, yet knowing well he's right as you glance at the glistening mixture of flour and butter with the corner of your eye.

"Oh my god, they look so greasy! They’re gonna merge into one big cookie in the oven," he laughs and points at the runny balls of dough already blending into each other. "Stop being so stubborn and listen to me for once. Well, actually if you did listen to me in the first place, you wouldn’t be having this problem at all."

You roll your eyes and bump your hip against his as you scrunch your nose at the butter covering your hands. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can you please put them in the oven? My hands are too slippery."

Sunoo groans but still puts on the oven mittens and fulfills your wish. A sigh wells up in his chest, knowing well that no matter how disgusting or inedible those cookies are gonna turn out to be, he’ll still be the one eating them all because after all it’s you who made them.

And he tries his best not to fall to the ground dramatically when the next words he hears from you are the ever so cheerful, “Okay, so chocolate chip next!”

Love will truly be the death of him. 

YANG JUNGWON

Jungwon casts you a concerned look when another cough leaves your already roughed up throat. It’s only your type of luck to get sick at Christmas – you shouldn’t even be surprised at this point. 

“Drink your tea, angel,” he prompts you gently, pointing his head at the steaming cup of tea laying on the coffee table.

You lean the back of your head onto his shoulder, snuggling backwards into his chest as he cuddles you closely on the worn out couch in your living room. That’s already the third christmas movie you’re watching aimlessly, wrapped up in blankets and Jungwon’s arms ever since the afternoon.

He presses a kiss to your hair, gingerly nudging you back forward to grab your tea. You oblige with a quiet whine, the effort of leaning forward becoming really burdening with your weakened body. Going back to your previous position, you sigh and take a sip of the tea that Jungwon’s prepared for you with so much love.

“Why do I always have to catch some shit before things I look forward to for months?” You huff, mind going back to when you were dying of fever on your last birthday or the time you lost your voice on your first anniversary with Jungwon. So, like you’ve said before, it was a given at this point. 

His smooth hands slip underneath the christmas sweater you’ve stubbornly refused to take off, and caress your warm skin softly, soothing you. He leans forward and kisses the tip of your ear – movements careful not to cause you to spill your drink. 

“Don’t get upset,” he says, pinching your sides. “It could always be worse.”

“Yeah? Like what?” You turn to him with a pout on your heated up face and he giggles. 

“At least I’m here with you, right?” His precious smile makes you feel warmer. “I mean, you could get stuck with Riki. How fun would that be.”

His words make you smile as well and you lean your cheek into his palm as he checks your temperature. 

Riki, as lovely of a friend he was, was not the one to know how to handle sickness. You instantly remind yourself of the time his throat was sore, so he concluded that slurping down a hot package of instant noodles on one go would warm up him up enough to heal his sickness. It's safe to say he couldn't swallow anything for the next two days without spasming from pain.

“Yeah, you’re right, I guess. That would be the worst.” 

NISHIMURA RIKI

"YN, stop, you're gonna hurt yourself!"

You roll your eyes as you balance yourself at the highest step of the small ladder. "I'm gonna be fine, don't worry!" 

"You should’ve let me do that," he scoffs and you poke your tongue out at him, reaching your hands up to hook the golden star at the top of your Christmas tree. "I'm not catching you if your clumsy ass slips and falls down! You’re gonna break my arms."

It's your time to scoff at your boyfriend as you know that he would never let any harm happen to you. "Oh, for sure you won’t,” you nod your head at him mockingly with a giggle.

As if to prove your point, you yelp loudly as you pretend to actually lose your footing and lean backwards. Just as you expected, Riki shoots up quickly to help you keep your balance. He places his big hands on the small of your back and gently pushes you forward.

"Have you actually lost your mind?" He asks as you burst out in a fit of giggles. You wiggle your eyebrows at him knowingly, clearly satisfied with your prediction. "Don't scare me like that again."

You pat his cheek lovingly before leaning down and kissing the same spot. "See, I'm always right."

Riki scoffs for the nth time this evening and turns around to go to the box and pass you some more ornaments. Just as he takes a step forward, you turn around to look at him and in result end up actually slipping and shrieking as you leap forward. Riki, without missing a beat, swiftly moves closer to you and catches you in his arms as you fall down. You breathe out in relief as you feel your heart jumping up to your throat.

You look up sheepishly as you’re met with the scolding look on his face, eyebrow raised up as he waits for you to speak up. Instead, you bury your face in the crook of his neck and throw your arms around his neck.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. What would I be without you?"

Riki rolls his eyes at your suddenly humbled state, then adjusts you in his arms and flicks your forehead. "Most likely resting in a cemetery by now."

"Hey!"

author's note: to make it up for my absence, i've written the final fic for this event and i'm gonna do the rest next year (hopefully)!! thanks for being patient with me, lovely and merry christmas!! ❤️

taglist: @beomgyusonlywife @bucketofhiros @jesterstrange @seongclb @wannatinyus @guroyeu @jngwnlvs @milisabunny @ariadores

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth @seungiesluv @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt

[shiny-jr]

hi shiny ! i saw ur post on that anon who was asking abt AI i use it too ! i don’t use it to write my works but i use it to refine it like my grammar and punctuation.. i feel like it’s bad. even though all the ideas, and writing are mine (minus the better synonyms and punctuation)

so need a genuine writer on how they feel abt it cause i feel like after all the AI hate i don’t think my writings are okey.

Well, there are a lot better sites to use. I can recommend some resources? So maybe take a look at some of these and consider using them as tools without the need for AI!

WordHippo - This one is my personal favorites, and I've mentioned it in multiple other posts. It's great for finding anything word related, like definitions, synonyms, antonyms, etc. I literally use it all the time, whenever I'm writing something.

GoogleDocs - This is my preferred site to write. It's where I keep all my drafts and saved files when it comes to writing. There are others though like Word and such, but I just prefer this application because it can be used without downloading any app and it's free. Plus, some of the time, it'll catch spelling mistakes and such. Additionally, recent updates on it added a feature to create subtabs within a single document, which really helps when I'm creating an extensive project. So for example, I'll create the document, and have a separate subtab on it for the story, another subtab for notes, another for ideas, etc.

Reading - It's also important to read. I don't mean reading of your own work, but while that is important too, I mean read over things you like. Try to understand why you enjoyed what you read. Was it something about the style, the word choice, descriptions, plot, characters, themes, etc? The list goes on. Find what you like and build on it. Maybe you like a certain author's style. It's okay to attempt to emulate (not directly copy) it, and form your own style from that.

Share - Sharing is vital, and posting falls under this. While I understand this may be more difficult to complete depending on if you have mutuals that would give good critiques or not, if you do have friends and are confident in them, maybe they might be willing to read one of your works and give pointers. Keep in mind, this doesn't work for everyone. I know a lot of writers who prefer not to share their work before posting, I only share my own work with like one person before posting, others have multiple friends who read their work before posting. It varies.

Acceptance - I will say this: accept that your writing is not perfect. And that's okay. Literally, no matter what you do, you will have supporters and you will have haters. You yourself may sit there and believe your writing is not good enough. Believe me, this is a very common thought process amongst writers.

I remember being so hesitant and scared to post in the beginning. My writing was BAD, I will be the first to admit. But that's because I was inexperienced. With time and effort, my experience grew and so did my skill. It became something that I'm sometimes proud of, sometimes I'm not. That's just how it is. Even now, years later, I still get those negative thoughts and anxiety as I look at the post button when finishing a project. Those thoughts creep in and I begin to doubt myself. But, I think I would rather post it and risk the chance of maybe regretting it later instead of the alternative where I never posted something and regretted never sharing it.