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dopepoisonivyoncrack · 8 months ago

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This is big part of the mentality I was referring to and it’s a community killer - No one owes anything to anyone unless it's something paid for.

I think not offering someone that took the time and effort to make art for a fanfiction at least a ‘thank you’ is making them a dick too. Not only if they go out of their way to make the artist feel extra bad for it.

If someone likes a story and makes art for it without the author paying them for it, and spend time and effort and resources (both traditional and digital art implies costs for paper, tools, electricity etc. if you must add the financial part in it) (emotional effort too, I remember how stressed I was the whole process if the author will like it) if they do all that, and the author doesn’t show any appreciation, it will feel terrible. No one wants to feel like that so they will not do it again. I know I won’t. So it doesn’t matter if someone else might like it because no such art will be made again. The feelings towards the author and the story will change negatively as well. Future interactions with other authors might suffer too after such an experience or simply by witnessing this mentality around. It has an inhibitory effect on creative spaces, fandoms, human interactions, self-esteem.

The way you talk makes me wonder if you ever created something yourself? Have you poured yourself into a piece of art of any form? Have you felt the vulnerability of putting that piece of yourself out there in the open not protected by a paywall? For people to bite on it, to hold it gently or pass by it like its nothing? Which of the reactions would you hope for, honestly? Would you truly be ok without a good reaction? Should anyone just continue to pour themselves into pieces and give it to people to cast it aside or rip it to shreds? Can they not take personally something that is basically a comment on a piece of themselves?

I think people do owe others many things like decency, respect, appreciation, especially in a world increasingly individualistic, selfish, rude, where no one owes anything to anyone. I see it as the opposite of self-destruction and unnecessary misery.

I see so many posts encouraging interaction, mostly for fanfiction but also visual art. To leave comments not just kudos or likes, to reblog, to let authors know someone read/saw their work, that they are seen, and appreciated; how doing that will lead to more, how ignoring or being extra rude to them will lead to less. My own post was a reaction to a vehiculating post encouraging cooperation between writers and visual artists, like a symbiotic relationship that apparently used to be more widespread; but also a personal case that still stings.

So overall, writers are feeling unappreciated, and ask for comments and kudos, likes and reblogs (now fanarts too). Someone making a fanart is, in my opinion, on a superior lvl to comments, reblog and such, because of the lvl of involvement and because being shared linked to the story and artist it also serves as some kind of advertisement (for lack of better word). It is a powerful form of mutual support. No one is obligated to love either, it is subjective, it happens or not. But it is a 2 way street. If someone went the extra mile for an author to make them fanart to their writing, they should show some appreciation. They can’t just expect others to appreciate their work, but not owe any appreciation when someone puts in the extra effort. It holds even more value in a world where people don’t think they owe any respect or appreciation, and they are entitled to continuous and free fanfiction and fanart and any kind of "content" (because this is the word to which human expression is reduced to nowadays).

By the same mentality, people don’t owe anyone a “good morning” or “goodbye” or “happy birthday”, any kind of help or kind gesture that they were not paid for, or a kind word in hard times, or sign of courtesy…. but it sure makes life better when they do it, and contributes to well-being and human relationships, because we like it or now, we are a social species, and bound to interact and share spaces.

Someone makes something nice for another person, not because they were asked for or paid for, and they don’t owe them a simple ‘thank you’? Or any kind of appreciation because it doesn’t fall in their category of accepted form of feedback / doesn’t raise to their pretension of skill level / doesn’t meet their fancy / they are not friends or mutuals??

Is there any context where it is ok to make another person feel like shit for daring to make something nice for you, unasked and unpaid?

"Normalize fanart for fanfics again" and then you get

authors that are not ok with fanarts and you have to ask permission first (genuinely curious what happens if you gift one of these people an unprompted art to their writing... get blocked? ostracized? humiliated? what is the sentence?)

fanart not appreciated for diverse reasons, including the skill level, being done in traditional media, manner of representation, level and type of relationship with the author

fanart being treated like an ugly gift for which you are politely thanked for then it goes into obscurity/trash bin

not being able to share if said fanart is nsfw because of the censorship, or having to cut parts/get creative with censoring which makes the piece less attractive and it gets scrolled over

#ivy shitpost #I am kind of sorry for the length of this #but it is all I could think of since I saw the reply #its not about owing someone. it shouldn't be #someone sharing fanfiction and expecting appreciation for it but be ungrateful when someone gives it in the form of fanart sounds wrong

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kyuuppi · 4 years ago

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vegetable stew

Pairing: Kenma x Reader (f)

Contents: hurt/comfort; angst and fluff; body dysmorphia; eating disorder (negative thoughts, fat shaming, insecurity, mentions of starvation)

Word Count: 2.1k

Kenma has always been observant.

It was a large part of his success as a setter and even now his keen observational skills contribute to his career as a professional gamer. He tends to notice things others don’t and lately that means noticing how you’ve changed.

The more he thinks about it the more difficult it is to pinpoint the exact starting point of your behavior. Haven’t you always preferred baggy clothing?

He remembers the pretty blue sweater you used to treasure back in high school, wearing it every chance you got as soon as the weather report hinted at anything lower than 10°C. He loved that sweater too—not just because of the cute sweater paws it gave you or how it almost completely covered the shorts you wore beneath, offering an unobstructed view of your shapely thighs—but instead he relished in the way it seemed to make you feel. The confidence and joy in your expression was clear as day when you wore your favorite outfits and early on in your relationship he had quickly learned that somehow your happiness was synonymous to his own.

Hence Kenma’s current frustrations in seeing that spark of joy and self-confidence gradually diminishing in the past several weeks.

Although that particular sweater had long since left your wardrobe within the first few years of university, as well-loved and worn out as it was, the more recent favorites of yours have also seemed to have gone lately. It had been a while since you had worn the short yellow polka dot dress you had been so eager to show Kenma the first day you got back from the mall with your roommates. Every pair of shorts and colorful tennis skirts had also left your weekly rotation, leaving behind only dull sweatshirts with childhood cartoon characters and baggy joggers.

Objectively, Kenma hardly cared about what you wore. If fastening a potato sack around your form made you happy, Kenma wouldn’t bat an eye—the problem stemmed from the fact these clothes didn’t make you happy. Moreover, the bland clothing brought with them their own slew of behavioral changes.

You no longer wished to go out and you avoided taking pictures of yourself, your social media suffering from an obvious lack of cheeky selfies or “outfit of the day” posts as of late. However, the most concerning change of all was your refusal to eat.

Kenma had a habit of forgetting to eat himself. He rarely felt the mild twinges of hunger, his attention generally hyper-focused on something else whether it was a game, a video needing editing, or a class project he had pushed off for far too long. It was only when his own stomach growling would startle him or the hunger pains got unbearable that he would acknowledge the human requirement of sustenance (not that the instant ramen in his cabinets provided much nutrients anyhow).

You were much more in tune with your body and, unlike him, you looked forward to eating; scheduled your days around it, even.

Your mornings began with a balanced breakfast—a meal Kenma was rarely even awake in time for—followed by a generous lunch break in which you would intentionally put everything on pause. Regardless of how much work you had to do you always made time to put everything down and have a decent lunch. It was good for your soul, you would say. A time to live in the moment and relieve yourself of stress.

For dinner you often made it a point to eat with others, whether it was going to a rowdy Korean BBQ with some friends or a dinner date at home with just him, you enjoyed sharing a meal surrounded by the people you love. On top of it all, you frequently had snacks: small bags of crackers, slices of fruit, or a few cookies you made yourself.

You loved cooking almost as much as you loved eating; most of the times he invited you over you brought a large bag with you filled to the brim with ingredients he wouldn’t have a clue what to do with. You would chastise him about his awful eating habits, grimacing at the ramen and chip wrappers overflowing in the kitchen trash can before you diligently prepare a meal for you both, healthy and flavorful, full of the vegetables he hadn’t had since the last time he went home to visit his mom.

You made him look forward to meal times too, if only to see the way you light up when he compliments your cooking or the pure bliss when you take the first bite of your favorite side dish. Eating with you became one of his favorite parts of the day.

And so that last time you made him dinner—a steaming plate of curry with shrimp tempura—the normally delicious food suddenly turned sour on his tongue when he realized you had only made him dinner.

“I’m just not very hungry today,” you had assured him with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Foolishly, he hadn’t said anything at the time.

Maybe you had a large lunch, maybe you had a stomach ache, maybe you just didn’t want curry today—at that point in time he had no reason to think there was something seriously wrong. He had no reason to think you were starving yourself.

It wasn’t until weeks later when all the evidence stacked up, the many different signs piecing themselves together like a puzzle until it was impossible not to see the picture, even if a few were still missing.

Your baggy clothing, your refusal to eat anything, your off-handed comments about how the female characters in whatever fighting game he was playing had such nice figures—it became crystal clear what you were doing and it made him feel sick.

Kenma doesn’t generally care about others’ looks; he tends to worry more on how he is perceived than how he perceives others but he is confident that he rather likes your body as it is. He would rather die than admit how often he finds his gaze wandering when your legs are bare or how his eyes naturally trace the curve of your waist down to the width of your hips his fingers twitch to touch—he has had many thoughts about your body, none of which have ever been negative.

Even so, he doesn’t mind if you want to change yourself. He isn’t foolish enough to think he has the right to dictate how you decide to present yourself to this world, but he refuses to allow the reason for your change to be one that stems from low self-esteem or insecurity.

When you step into Kenma’s apartment, weary from a long day of classes and the extra hours spent at the gym, the last thing you expect is to be greeted by the scent of some type of stew, warm and hearty. Your stomach clenches longingly but you quickly reprimand yourself—you already reached your tiny caloric limit for the day.

You have hardly made it into the living room when Kenma comes out from the kitchen, dyed hair tied in a low bun but messy, several strands poking out and sticking across his sweaty forehead. A dark blue apron is tied around his waist and his right hand holds a ladle, the perfect image of a frazzled housewife. If you weren’t so shocked by the scene you would have laughed.

“Welcome back,” he greets softly.

“Are you...cooking something?”

Kenma looks slightly embarrassed by your incredulous tone but not offended. In all the years you have known Kenma you have never seen him in the kitchen for longer than the three minutes required to heat up a bowl of noodles. Him slaving away in front of the stove for a bowl of homemade soup is nearly unfathomable to you.

“Vegetable stew...it’s my mom’s recipe,” your boyfriend explains sheepishly.

The mental image of Kenma shyly FaceTiming his mother as she patiently walks him through chopping up carrots and mixing spices makes your lips twitch upwards and you make your way past him to curiously survey his work.

“You didn’t have to go through the effort, I could have cooked you something, y’know,” you comment as you lean over the large pot on the stove.

The contents are a rich brown color with hints of potatoes, carrots, and onions peaking out. You’re gifted another pang of hunger and you quickly step back as if it would prevent you from falling into temptation.

Kenma quietly slips into the kitchen directly behind you, his chest nearly brushing your arm as he speaks.

“It's okay, I wanted to cook for us this time.”

You freeze.

Immediately, you break into a cold sweat, the prospect of eating sending you into a state of anxiety. You can’t eat—you don’t deserve to eat. Not when your arms are so flabby, your waist so undefined, your inner thighs so close to each other—

“I appreciate it,” you start.

Your voice sounds unnaturally high even to your own ears.

“But I’m not hungry—I had a really big lunch.”

Turning, you try to offer him an apologetic smile but his face looks off. His lips are pulled into a slight frown and his eyes seem to be looking through you, as if he knows you’re lying.

“Y/n...I don’t like what you’re doing.”

You attempt to laugh but it comes out hollow.

“I’m not doing anything bad, just dieting a bit.”

“I think you’re being a little extreme.”

You huff, starting to feel defensive. You don’t want to have this conversation, not now, not ever.

“Kenma, I’m totally fine, I promise.”

“I’m worried about you,” he insists.

“I’m telling you there’s nothing to worry about, I’m being safe.”

“Skipping meals isn’t healthy.”

“Kenma, being this fat isn’t healthy!”

The words escape before you can think to stop them and you can already feel the shame pricking at your eyes as you turn away. You don’t want to see your boyfriend’s look of disgust once he realizes you’re right, once he realizes how fat and unattractive his girlfriend is. Kenma is skinny, he deserves a petite girlfriend who is just as tiny, a girl with slender legs that look cute in shorts and a stomach that lays flat regardless of the time of day. He deserves the sexy girls in his video games, in shape from years of training and perfected suited for tight leather bikini tops.

You don’t realize you’re shaking until Kenma wraps his arms around your shoulders, burying his face into the side of your neck. He lets out a shuttered sigh and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s crying as well.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your skin, “and I don’t like seeing you hurting yourself. If you want to lose weight, I’ll help you. We can make healthy foods together and eat them together and exercise together—just please stop skipping meals.”

Your throat feels like it's stuffed with cotton so you can only nod in agreement, raising one hand to weakly wipe at the hot tears staining your cheeks.

The two of you stand like that, huddled in the middle of the kitchen, for several long minutes until the last of your tears have gone before Kenma gently pushes you to sit down at the coffee table. He prepares two steaming bowls full of vegetable stew for you both and you silently eat as Kenma tells you how low calorie the broth is and how many nutrients his mom said were in the vegetables he used. He tells you about a new fitness game on the Nintendo Switch that you two can play together. By the time you finish your meals, Kenma has already promised to wake up early to go jogging around the neighborhood together even though you know he absolutely hates waking up early and exercising when he doesn’t have to.

Your chest aches with how much he loves you, how far he’s willing to go just if he thinks it will help you and make you happy.

A small part of your mind begs you not to listen. It insists you’ll be fat forever if you don’t starve yourself; no pain, no gain. But the more rational part of you gazes into those soft golden eyes, filled with concern and love as he rambles on about the best sources of protein—all stuff he had learned from his professional volleyball player friend Hinata—and you know your answer.

Kenma loves you, he would do anything to see you happy and healthy and you would do anything to please him.

You love him more than you hate yourself.

#kozume kenma #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kenma x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #kenma imagine #kenma scenario #kenma x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader

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ga-yuu · 3 years ago

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I have been wondering for a while now. What characters from otome have taugh you valuable lessons? Is that characters your favorite or not?

Actually, now when I think about, I was a really horrible person back in school. I was selfish, I loved manipulating people for my own benefit, I was fake and sometimes I break people's hearts without second thought. Now you might be thinking 'Woah! This girl used be an asshole in school.' Yes! I was....and now when I think about it.....I hate myself.

Now that I'm an adult, I think it's not only otome games and anime that played a part in changing me. It's just, once I became an adult I left behind my childish behavior and started....to be a better person.

Usually when I play an otome game, or watch an anime or even a movie, I do end up learning a thing or two but most of the time I forget about the movie after 2 or 3 weeks, but that life lesson always follows me everywhere. Now otome games, has played a big part in my life but I don't remember every otome games story clearly now....but I'll try. Also most of them might not be my favorites!!

Also !!!!!SPOILERS!!!!!

Lance (Nameless) - I learned how to cherish even the smallest thing that happens in my life.

There is a scene if I remember correctly, where Lance was standing near a trash can in the rain and sees a barbie doll in the trash can.

I felt really bad when I saw that. A doll for me used be a thing that never had feelings. Even if break it or throw it away, it would never cry or even curse me(unless it's possessed)

But now, after seeing that scene, I started to put myself in it’s place and I started to feel how worse it was. A doll you loved so much as a kid is now thrown away like a piece of trash.

From then on, started loving everything I have whether it’s a living thing or non-living thing. Even the laptop I used to write this, even the phone I used to play games, even the pillow I cuddle with in my bed are all precious treasures to me and I want no one to even touch them.

This might sound like I’m crazy, but I don’t care. I love everything that my parents offered me and will cherish it till the end.

Also, do I like Lance? Yup. He’s my 2nd fav. of this game!

Soi (Nameless) - Looking at your own self before criticizing others.

Soi might be an extra in the game, but I still loved her every time she showed up. She’s always shown to be a true friend towards Eri(MC) and always liked her for who she is.

I haven’t played the entire game, but in one route, when Eri tells her friends that she has a hobby of collecting dolls and was ready to hear her friends bashing her about being childish and stuff, Soi was very casual about it and didn’t say anything.

When Eri asked if she was weird for having such a hobby, Soi gives a savage reply like “Dude, I already have many problems in my own life to deal with. Why would I want to increase my burden with yours’= too?” or something like.

That was a very good lesson for me to learn. Before you go out and tell people how should they behave or criticize them, first check yourself. Are you a good person? Is your life problems already solved before you go out and solve other person’s problems?”

Seriously, if you have these kind of people in your life, tell them to FUCK OFF! because they’re toxic as hell.

Lucette (Cinderella Phenomenon) - The person you love and trust might not always be a good person.

Everyone has a person they trust and love. For some, it might be their friends, for some it might be siblings, or for some it might be their pets. No one has the right to judge. But the person you trust might not feel the same way for you.

In this beautifully made game, the MC, Lucette is disliked by everyone because she’s rude, arrogant and never trusted anyone other than her mother. But in the end of the story !! SPOILER ALERT!! her mother was the villain in her entire life.

Her own mother made her not trust anyone, even her own father for her entire life. When she learned about this truth, she was literally heart broken because the only person she ever loved didn’t love her back. But life doesn’t end there. She stands up again and tries to reconcile with her father, stepmother and step siblings.

Going through betrayal and experiencing heart breaks is traumatizing but it’s also a part of learning....you will learn to not trust anyone blindly. Life doesn’t end there, you have to keep moving on and one day you’ll surely find a person you can trust and rely on.

If you’re still alone, then keep a pet. There is no rule that you should only love humans, right?

Sovieshu (The remarried empress webtoon/ interactive game/light novel) - It only takes one small mistake to collapse your entire world.

It takes great hard work and time to create an strong Empire, but did you know that one small mistake is enough to destroy everything in your life. The webtoon Remarried Empress is a right example of that. (If you haven’t read this, I highly recommend it.)

Sovieshu is piece of SHIT! I won’t lie, but he has thought me this lesson. Sovieshu is a Great Emperor along with Navier, who is the Empress of their country. They both were trained to be the king and queen since they were children and both were the best of friends. Even if they were not lovers, they were still married and Navier has always been faithful towards her husband and the entire Empire.

But one day, Sovieshu happened to meet tRashta(slave) and fell in love with her at first sight. Without doing any background check of her past or anything, he brings her home and makes her his concubine. Navier was kinda sad but she didn’t want to show it because she was the Queen and she had to, you know, keep her public image at the top. But Sovieshu on the other hand started becoming abusive and compared Navier with tRashta. Even though Navier didn’t do anything, he kept on accusing her for bullying tRashta everyday. It’s like he would wait in the corner, hiding, looking at Navier and tRashta interacting and when he see tRastha crying, he comes running to her and starts to scold Navier in front of the whole public. He’s such an asshole. Later he does give her a divorce (stating that she’s infertile) because, tRashta was pregnant with his baby and he didn’t want to make her baby, a bastard because, tRashta is not his wife. But on the other hand, he also didn’t want to leave Navier because she was a perfect Queen in every way. So his plan was to divorce her for one year, and marry tRashta till the baby was born, so the baby becomes the princess. Later he’ll annul their divorce, so by doing this he has both tRashta and Navier. He’s such an asshole.

But Navier had other plans. So right when her divorce was agreed by the priest, she requested for a remarriage. From here own, Sovieshu’s tragedy starts. Later in the story he finds out that, it wasn’t Navier who was infertile but it was him all along. Even the baby tRashta carried was not his. After this betrayal, Sovieshu lost his mental stability and went through severe depression. See! That’s all it takes for your world to collapse. One single mistake is what is needed.

Kurama(Ikemen Genjiden) - What’s wrong with being yourself?

IDK if your family is like this, but my family is like “You have to learn to eat everything. Like vegetables, meat etc etc” with a reason that you’ll be able to live any circumstances.

I would like to say that, I’m a very picky eater. I hate vegetables, especially tomatoes. If I even see one small piece of tomato in my food.....I won’t throw the whole food away, I’ll just take the piece and put it on the side of the plate and also yell at my mom for putting tomatoes in my food. I’m also a vegetarian. I hate tasting meat but I don’t mind eating food in the small table as my non-veg father. Also, unlike my family members, I’m very punctual. (because I’m an introvert and I don’t like getting the extra attention when I’m late!!)

These are just some of the facts of me being me. My family always complains that I shouldn’t choose how I want to be and must always be perfect in everything because I’m a girl and girls are married off when they get older, right? (It’s bullshit.)

The only people who loves me for who I am are my parents. They never once told me to do this or that like my useless uncles and aunts who have never ever contributed anything in my life.

Kurama as a character, I love him, because he is just being himself. He’s like ‘I’ll do whatever I want and no one has the right to stop me.’

That quote is so beautiful. I mean, why are you being fake for the sake of being accepted by the society. The people who truly loves you will love you for who you are. Do the things the way you like. Eat what you like, drink what you like, watch whatever you like. If you like anime, and your friend wants to watch sports, watch anime in your phone with your head phones. It’s better than watching sports you don’t like and creating an awkward environment by acting you know every player in the team, right?

No one has the right to judge anyone. If anyone does come and tell you “Hey, you should not do this like this way, but you should do it this.”, tell that person “ I’ll do whatever I want and no one has the right to stop me. “

Yoritomo and Yoshino(Ikemen Genjiden)- Not everyone is perfect.

I never understood what is the meaning behind being a perfect man or perfect human. Does it mean you have good figure on the outside but at the same time you’re toxic as hell inside? or does it mean you’re very intelligent but at the same time you’re socially awkward?

Not everyone is perfect. Not everyone is good at every single thing and not everyone has to be good at everything.

Yoritomo as a character, always wears a perfect smile indicating others how good he is. But in reality, he’s very lonely and also needs someone to look after him just like anyone else.

There is nothing wrong with being independent and doing everything on your own. But there is also nothing wrong in depending on someone for things you can’t do. If anyone boldly claims that “I don’t need anyone to love me, I’m fine without anyone” it’s all bullshit! Don’t believe in that kind of nonsense.

Even if you’re the king of the world or even if your a roadside homeless puppy, everyone needs love and support in their life. Everyone needs some one they could talk to, even if it’s just trivial.

It will at least give them a small amount happiness even though it doesn’t worth anything. That’s why I’m telling you, if you don’t have a lover or friends or parents or any human being to talk to, adopt a pet or something.

I hope I was able to answer everything you wanted to hear. ヽ(o^ ^o)ﾉ

#asks #life lessons from otome #otome #nameless #the remarried empress #ikemen genjiden #cinderella phenomenon

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 4 years ago

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What do you consider demonizing Azula vs objectively describing her less flattering traits and harmful actions?

Honestly, it all comes down to word choice and language at the end of the day imo. If someone’s character analysis is presented with a certain tone I’m more inclined to say that they are demonizing her. For example saying that “ as a child Azula demonstrated red flags for mental illness and should have been helped” is a lot less antagonizing than “Azula was born evil, she liked to tease and bully Zuko from the start.” One of these statements addresses the complexities of her situation (a broken home and several poor adult influences/examples) while the other basically places full blame on a child. Things like that. I really, really do believe that it’s all about the tone an Azula analysis is presented in.

Personally I would agree that some of her childhood behaviors, like setting Zuko’s pants on fire and burning some of the bushes in the place garden were huge red flags. They are harmful actions. BUT a lot of those could be 1. attention getting antics because her mother usually paid more attention to her when she misbehaved. 2. Her emulating Ozai and his attitude. And stuff like, “dad’s going to kill you.” Is very much Azula mimicking what her father demonstrated as well as her father actively rewarding her for behaviors like that. These are definitely harmful actions that started getting worse as she got older. An analysis like that is fair and not demonizing imo, because it recognizes that Azula is still a kid and it doesn’t write off the possibility for her to unlearn some of these behaviors later in life with the right help.

While something like, “even child Azula is a insane, look what she did to Zuko! What kind of sociopath sings-songs about someone’s dad killing them!?” Here is an example of using buzzwords and implying that mental illness as something that automatically makes someone evil. It puts all blame on Azula while factoring out the adults in her life that either sat passive or actively taught her these behaviors. This, imo, is demonizing.

One of my biggest peeves at the moment is when they say that fucking Ozai and Zhao are more redeemable. Zhao was literally seen in the Avatar universe version of Hell. It is canon that he did not get redemption. So by extension it is canon that he is NOT more redeemable than Azula whose fate is still ambiguous. And there is not one argument that can convince me that the grown ass man who burned his own son’s face off while tearing apart his self-worth is more redeemable than a fourteen year old girl. There is not one argument that can convince me that a man who made a weapon out of his daughter and (heavily implied) abused his wife (at least emotionally) is more redeemable than a fourteen year old girl. Usually I try to keep an open mind and be nice about my opinions in these discourses but I just can’t with this one; I think that this particular statement is stupid as hell. Ozai and (especially in canon and in Hell) Zhao are NOT more redeemable than Azula. Bye, miss me with that dumb shit.

Some more specific examples that come to mind are;

When people make Azula out to be a murderer and/or a sadist

The turtle duck thing

Baby Azula.

The murder thing drives me nuts because, first of all, she’s a solider. She’s at war. Her one kill was a combat kill, he came back to life, and he was entering the Avatar state. Now correct me if I’m wrong but Aang killed Zhao in the Avatar state. You can’t tell me that no one died or was seriously injured in the episode ‘The Avatar State’. So of course she’s gonna shoot him down; he could have killed her just as well. He had no control over the Avatar state at the time.

Furthermore she has the least amount of collateral damage. And one of the smallest body counts. Aang has killed so many background characters via the Avatar state. Sokka killed Combustion man. Sokka, Suki, and Toph killed several soldiers by crashing those war blimps in the finale. I think that you get the point. But none of them get called murders like Azula does. Everyone seems to be well aware that all of those were combat kills. The reason they get called soldiers instead of murders is because they are protagonists.

Azula is not a murder. She is a solider. Combat kills are different than murder. They are horrible and unfortunate all the same but it isn’t murder.

And then there’s the sadist claim. At best I think that that’s a misinterpretation of character. At least from my personal POV. I've seen it argued that she’s not a sadist but only because it’s more coinvent not to be; that she would be one if she had time for it. But I think that a true sadist wouldn’t give a shit if it’s not convenient. If she were a sadist I feel like she would go out of her way to hurt people like Chit Sang even if it’s not necessary. Azula does only what’s necessary and that’s it. I do think that Azula is merciful. Perhaps not conventionally so but she isn’t cruel. She takes prisoners and as far as we’ve seen on screen those prisoners aren’t treated particularly bad (by Azula anyhow). She doesn’t torture her prisoners and she doesn’t kill them.

Now, I will give more of an open mind to people who say that she is an EMOTIONAL sadist of sorts. I do think that she gets a kick out of scaring people and bullying people. I’m on the fence with this argument though because how much of her getting a kick out of Zuko’s suffering is her also being relieved that it is not her. And how much of it is more run of the mill teenage bullying? This is one thing where I’m more than willing to hear from the other side.

I think that the murderer and sadism thing is very much an attempt to demonize her. I think that it can be an exaggeration of her unflattering behaviors. I’m not saying that the things she did aren’t harmful but I do think that some people over exaggerate them or make up stuff that isn’t there; I’ve seen people state that she ‘probably killed so many soldiers off screen’. There is no canon evidence to support this? Likewise these are generally the same people who tell Azula fans that they can’t say Azula was abused off screen.

The other big one is the turtleduck one. Zuko demonstrates how Azula feeds turtleducks. He throws a piece of bread. I don’t know where the rock thing came from. Furthermore I very much think that Azula chucking a loaf of bread at a turtleduck is just a small child being a little shit. When I was like five or six I yeeted a good half a loaf at a duck because, “the more food they get the happier they are, right????” To me that just seems more like a small child who has not learned impulse control than a child who likes hurting animals. This whole argument, at least imo, is actively demonizing a child for actions that aren’t exactly uncommon for children. The problem is when the child doesn’t learn that yeeting whole loafs at turtleducks is a bad thing. THIS is where I see a fair argument forming because (as of late) Azula didn’t seem to have unlearned this behavior. This is an example of one of those red flags I mentioned in the first paragraph. Which is where some nuance and critical thinking needs to come in. The complexities that I mentioned above about how the child isn’t 100% to blame here. The adults in her life should have tried to teach her better and/or Ozai need to fuck on off and stop teaching her to do wrong.

And finally baby Azula. I’ll just drop a link here because I already talked about this. But the tone of The Search literally tried to demonize a whole baby. The way the narrative decided frame her was really unnecessary. I really don’t see how this scene contributed to the story other than to remind readers that ‘Azula was always evil, see!’ Nevermind that she’s sleeping in a whole crib. Because that’s a literal infant.

Anyhow I might come back to this later to add more or clarify but I’m about to make lunch so I’ll end this here for now. Feel free to discuss further. I definitely don’t mind hearing from the other side so long as arguments are respectful and open minded.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Azula Discourse #Azula Analysis #Demonizing Azula #Fandom

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yami-writes · 3 years ago

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The Underworld - AoA Mythology Event

(✨) paring(s) — Hades Shouto Todoroki x f!reader

(⚠️) warning(s) — some angst, talk about devils, hell and stuff, mentions of execution, fires and buildings burning down, major character death (nothing graphic)

(💌) yami's note — my contribution to Attack on Academia’s Mythology AU event! hope you enjoy- even though i know close to nothing about mythology :sob: also this isn’t a specific AU/theme or anything, i was pretty lost on what to do so i just went off what i knew + a bit of my own shit ( this is my first work in a while, i'm a bit rusty lmao )

Y/n, never to be held back by the rules. You always preferred to do things your way, bending and breaking rules to do what you wanted.

“I’m supposed to be executed next month.” You took a bite out of your mashed potatoes while Denki choked on his. “What!? How could you say that so casually!?”

“I don’t care. They’re supposed to be executing all the lifetime prisoners here as some sort of offering to the Devil or some shit.”

You spent the better half of your life as a wanted criminal, committing acts left and right at your will. You never had a reason to commit crimes, it was more or less the ‘You Only Live Once’ mentality, as well as your own curiosity that drove you to be a bad person. For better or for worse, you enjoyed your life of crime. It was a never-ending adventure, a game. What crime will you commit this time? How many cops would show up this time? How far will you have to go to escape them? It was all a fun game to you.

“I’d rather be executed than spend the rest of my life in this place. We’re not even treated like humans. More like rabid animals that could attack at any moment. At least if I get executed I’ll be dead.”

“At least if I eat food I won’t starve.” Denki mocked. “But is it true? Are you really going to be executed?”

“Yeah.” you take another bite out of your lunch. “The guards hate us, they’ve been wanting to see our heads on a stick for a long time.”

“What!? But if you die I won’t have anyone in here to keep me sane, y’know!! We’ve only been talking for a few days but I like you!!”

You merely nodded.

“Hey, Y/n!” Mina poked your cheek. “What is it this time?”

“Have you ever heard the term ‘yolo’?”

“The fuck is a yolo?”

“I said it’s a term!” Mina laughed. “It’s an abbreviation for ‘You Only Live Once’.”

You Only Live Once. Those four words touched your soul. They told you to go, do the things you never thought you’d do. Commit the crimes you’ve never even thought of committing. They told you nobody, not even the law could tell you what to do, only you could tell yourself what to do.

Time was passing fast. Minutes, hours, days passed and your execution only got closer.

You didn’t care, but word sure did get around fast. Two weeks until the execution and everyone knew. You received weird looks wherever you went, which was normal, but these were different. You couldn’t explain what made them so different though. Maybe it was the way they lingered for longer than you’d like, as you had gotten used to the quick glances.

They were getting cocky.

You ate your lunch in silence, Denki was nowhere to be seen but you couldn’t be bothered, you just hoped he wasn’t doing anything stupid. As your execution came up you had been thinking, mostly of your past, your decisions, your life. Specifically, that one night...

It was a quiet Sunday evening. After being passed around in foster homes, enduring abusive foster parent after abusive foster parent, you were put into an adoption center, where you were finally being taken care of. You never made friends with anyone, you were scared of them. You thought they’d hurt you, abuse you, call you names. You didn’t want to go through that again.

“Hey!” A girl called out to you. She sat in front of you on the floor. “My name’s Mina!” The girl had messy pink hair, it was hard to tell if it was natural or not. You stared at her for a second, unsure of how to respond. “Hello.” Was all you could choke out.

“You’re y/n, right? I think you’re cool, wanna do this puzzle with me?” She took out a puzzle of a cat wearing a wool hat.

“Sure.”

“Yay!!” Mina cheered, quickly dumping the pieces on the floor.

From that point on your friendship with Mina flourished. Countless days and nights spent together. Laughing, talking and gossiping, together. You didn’t want it to end the way it did.

Months later, you never imaged standing in front of the adoption centre, the building ablaze and falling apart due to fire damages. Your friend, Mina, nowhere to be seen outside of the building. Was she still inside? The entrance to the building had already caught fire and looked about ready to collapse. You weren’t quite sure if the emergency exits were available, but if they were Mina would’ve used them by now, she was always quick-witted.

“y/n..” The adoption centre staff that had escaped with you puts her hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, but… They’re gone.”

You understood the concept of death very well, you’ve experienced losing someone before, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Hello, y/n.” A lady walks up to you, waking you out of your daydream. Her hair is up in a tidy ponytail and she’s wearing a prison uniform, she’s a prisoner too? “What? I was hoping to enjoy my lunch alone.”

“My apologies.” She sits down beside you. “I just wanted to talk to you before your execution, I think you’re very interesting.” You continue eating your lunch, minimalizing socializing with your prison mate. “Have you ever heard of ‘The Underworld’?” The lady asked.

“The Underworld?”

“Yes. It's where lifetime prisoners like us are bound to wind up. Lemme tell you about it.” She makes herself comfortable on the bench.

“If he deems you to be a bad person, the Devil will bring your soul down to The Underworld as a way to punish you for the sins of your past life. It’s a large, dark place, filled with the souls of people like you and I, who have committed horrible crimes and now have to deal with the consequences forever.”

“I see... And why are you telling me this?”

“I’ve been telling everyone about it! We’re all gonna go there!! It's good to be informed. Anyways, I’ll leave you to your lunch now. It was nice talking to you, y/n.”

“Okay.”

You pondered for a while after listening to that woman. She seemed pretty nice but it was obvious she had some screws loose.

You also thought about her teachings of The Underworld. If you enjoyed your life to the fullest, did it really matter what happens in the afterlife? You asked yourself that question often. You were more curious than you were afraid of the underworld.

You’ve heard many different interpretations of it, although the most common seemed to be one of suffering. Eternal suffering at the hands of Satan. The supreme ruler of Hell torments your soul for longer than the human mind can comprehend as a means to pay for the sins of your past life. The cold-blooded Devil rests on his throne as he listens to the tortured screams for mercy, to be set free.

The thought left your mind soon after, although you never seemed to get that woman off your mind. She was interesting, to say the least.

Two days. Two more days until you’re to be executed. As the days went by you became more and more curious. You had been thinking of the woman often.

She was a kind, yet mysterious lady. You’d gone around and asked other prisoners about her, but they all had nothing. Some people said something about her being pulled from a mental hospital and into jail but those seemed to just be rumours. Who is she? Where could she have gone? The prison was relatively big, so finding a specific person would prove to be pretty difficult, but almost two weeks of searching should’ve yielded at least some sort of information. You had given up on finding anything about her, she was just someone who wanted to speak to you, there was no need to spend the last few days of your life on her.

You never stopped thinking of The Underworld, or whatever it was called at this point. You wondered what it was really like. What really happened down there? Are bad souls really tortured for eternity? Is there even an afterlife? You wanted to know.

You went to bed thinking about it. About your afterlife.

You opened your eyes, a dark blue sky looking back at you. Outside? Your head was pounding and your throat was dry. Your body ached.

You could hear an eerie ambiance in the distance, this was truly an odd place. Ignoring the pain, you got up, taking a good look around you. The ground was made out of a mix of rock and dirt, around you seemed to be lakes of water. The sky was a dark blue colour, almost like a night sky, although there was no moon, stars, or sun.

“Hello.” a voice called out to you. You turned in the direction of the voice, a hooded figure stood before you. “Who are you?? Where am I??”

“Woah woah, calm down.” a hooded figure tried to calm you down. Their voice was rather kind, leading you to believe they weren’t a threat to you, they seemed to calm you down a bit. They wore a black, hooded robe and grasped a long stick with a red gem on the top. Behind them was a river, as well as a boat. “Was it a rough fall?”

“...Yeah,” you looked up at the gloomy sky, “I guess so.”

“I’m sorry about that, I'll ask him to add some sort of cushion here.” the mysterious person takes off their hood, revealing green hair and a rather cute freckled face. “I’m Izuku, I’ll be bringing you to the mainland.”

“Mainland?? Wait where even is this place, why am I here?? I’m supposed to be in prison right now-”

“Oh! You’re in The Underworld now. You’re dead, I'm sorry..”

“Dead!? How!? I wasn’t executed yet!”

“Your questions will be answered once we get there, so come with me into this boat and I'll take you to the mainland.” Izuku leads you to the boat, preparing it to sail once you get in, and soon enough, the boat starts to move onward.

“We might be here for a while, mind telling me about your past life? He never tells me anything about the souls that wind up here.”

“Uh sure, I guess. My parents died when I was still young, so I was tossed around in foster homes until they just stuck me in an adoption centre… One day one of the ladies that worked there caused a fire and it got burnt down, only me and that lady survived. After that I moved to the next town over and started a life of crime, I enjoyed it. Eventually, the police caught me and I was sentenced to jail for life for all the crimes I committed, they planned to execute me tomorrow but.. Y’know, I’m dead now.”

“Hm.. what an unfortunate life you’ve lived, although that story isn’t very new around here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve heard the stories of most of the souls down here, their lives began to tumble after a traumatic event. The loss of a loved one, car crashes, tragedies, I've heard it all before, but it doesn't get any less saddening.”

“I see..” you sigh, slumping over the side of the boat. You stare down at the water, watching your reflection. The water was almost as dark as the sky, tinted a greenish colour. ‘I’m kinda tired…’

“And~~ we're here!” Izuku announces, stopping the boat. “Sure did take a while.” You step out of the boat, taking a look around. It looks identical to where you first woke up.

“Follow that path, it’ll take you to Hades. He never asks to see anyone so you’re special!”

“He asked to see me!?”

“Yeah, I'm not sure as to why, but you better hurry! He doesn’t like waiting.”

“Oh, okay! Thanks!”

You immediately make your way down the path, concerned as to what Hades himself wanted from you. The path seemed to stretch on forever, turning corners before another straight, long extension. It almost left like you were going in a long circle.

At this point you had been in The Underworld for 30 minutes, although the sky hadn’t seemed to change at all, was there no time here?

After a long 15 minutes of walking, you made it to a large palace, tall gates of steel keeping unwanted guests from entering. A button rested on the side of the gate entrance. You pressed the button, unsure of what it would do. You wouldn’t be surprised if it summoned another hooded figure like Izuku to escort you into the palace, this place was unpredictable.

A loud ‘buzz’ sound erupted from the button upon being pressed, followed by a “Who’s there?” The voice on the other side was definitely different from Izuku's. It was deeper, but pleasant. “I’m y/n, Izuku told me Hades wanted to see me?”

You heard another buzz sound before the front gates opened. You anxiously walked in, not sure what to expect next. Your mind raced with thoughts as you wandered through the halls of what you assumed to be Hades’ palace. It was surprisingly bland on the inside, though. Maybe he wasn’t good with interior design.

After making your way through the halls, you were met with a surprisingly small room, with the classic long, expensive red carpets you would only see in movies. You felt somewhat bad for stepping on it, it looked expensive.

You looked up to see someone, a humanlike being sitting upon a throne.

“Hello?” you called out to them, inching closer.

“Ah, you must be y/n.” They acknowledge, standing from their throne and walking up to you. Was this Hades?

He looked more human than you thought he would. His face is what caught your attention, he was incredibly handsome. The type of man you’d only see in your dreams. His hair split in the middle, his left red and his right white. There also seemed to be a red mark on the left side of his face, it looked like a burn scar…

“Uhm, why’d you call me here? Shouldn’t I be like... Suffering? With the rest of the bad souls that ended up here?” you questioned him, trying to ignore his beauty.

“No. I’ve been watching you for a while, y/n. If I'm getting to the point, I want to marry you. I killed you prematurely so those awful people didn’t get the chance to, and so I could get to see you early.” He smiled. His lips looked incredibly soft, the kind you’d want to kiss forever.

“What!? Marry me!? But-”

“You mustn’t worry about the details, y/n. I love you, everything from your beauty, to your personality, I feel drawn to you. I would like you to be my wife. We could live happily together.”

The way he never elaborated didn’t make it any easier to take in, but an idea came to your mind. “If I marry you, will I still have to suffer? Like to pay for my sins…”

“Of course not, my love. Let’s say marrying me is enough to pay for them.”

You were curious to know what would happen if you didn’t marry him, or if you had a choice at all, but you decided you were better off not knowing for once.

“Alright, I’ll marry you.”

“Wonderful. Please feel free to explore the palace, and pick a room. I know you’re probably tired.”

“Thanks.”

After exploring the palace, you settled for a cozy room on the second floor. You liked the colours and arrangement of the room.

You lie in bed, pondering what had happened in the first few hours of your afterlife. You spent your life thinking you’d be sent down to meet Satan, an unforgiving force meant to punish evil souls for their wrongdoings, but was met with Hades instead, a God that was not only kind, but had at some point, fallen in love with your character. He had promised you an easy afterlife with him, an eternity you could spend however you wanted. Do the things you never got to do in your past life as a spirit.

You were beyond grateful to him, choosing to not only have mercy on you, but make you, a criminal who’s committed many crimes, his wife, another ruler, God of The Underworld.

Everything turned out quite different from how you originally thought.

#shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #reader insert #mythology #mha x mythology #bnha x mythology #mythology au #hades #shouto todoroki x reader

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msotherworldly · 3 years ago

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Diversity in Fiction: Stephen King & Disabilities

Diversity is a hot topic in the writing industry right now, in both the traditional and self publishing spaces. If you’ve kept up with writing advice columns, or follow other writers on social media, you’ve heard the debates. There are arguments for and against people writing certain types of characters, rules around what certain characters should be or not be, discussions of stereotypes and so on.

While it can be a complex field to navigate, there’s a form of diversity I’ve found that’s overlooked, even by authors with plenty of LGBTQ representation and racially diverse casts. Though it’s a form of diversity that’s mentioned, it often seems to be tagged on towards the end.

To my mind, only one mainstream author has actually tackled this form of diversity in his work, and done so naturally - though Stephen King has taken flak for certain character portrayals, he remains the only major author to include disabilities in his stories and characters. I’m sure there are other writers tackling this overlooked form of diversity, but I can’t name them off the top of my head (which should be telling).

In at least three of Stephen King’s books I’ve encountered a character in a wheelchair. In two of these stories, the characters are major (and in one of the two, the character in the wheelchair is the protagonist).

In The Cycle of the Werewolf, Marty, a boy on the edge of his teens in a small town, attempts to discover who the local werewolf is. The original book is a novella, but the film adaptation, Silver Bullet, expands Marty’s role considerably, making him the hero of the piece. In addition to being one of my favourite films to watch at Halloween, Silver Bullet is also the only film I know where the protagonist has a significant disability: Marty is in a wheelchair.

It’s my opinion that the story treats Marty’s disability with nuance. While his mother worries that his disability could hurt him in life, his best friend and uncle, Uncle Red, believes in Marty - he doesn’t see Marty’s disability as ruining Marty’s life, but as something Marty can overcome. To him, there’s much more to Marty than “him not being able to walk,” and, while Marty’s disability plays an important role in the story, particularly in regards to his bond with his uncle, there are also plenty of instances where Marty functions as a character beyond his disability.

Ultimately, Marty is a little boy trying to solve a supernatural murder; he goes through the typical pre-teen struggles of having a crush and disagreeing with his best friend; like any little brother, he quarrels with his big sister; and he has the same hopes as any kid, looking forward to seeing his uncle or being apart of the town’s local fair and fireworks show.

Silver Bullet offers a solid story about a character with a disability, showing that Marty can still be human or save the day despite an inability to walk. However, Stephen King includes disabilities in his other stories too. In It, many of the kids have disabilities of some kind. Ben has asthma, needing an inhaler, and I suspect that Richie may have ADHD or something similar. In The Stand, Stephen King even allows somebody who likely has Down Syndrome, or something similar, act in a heroic role (despite the disability, the character in question is able to spy on the “bad guys” before returning with important information, making him a crucial participant in the fight against evil). The Stand also features a character who is deaf - again, despite his condition, this character contributes greatly to the forming of a new society, even acting in a leadership role.

I’m not saying Stephen King is perfect, but he’s tackled the issue of disability in fiction in a way I haven’t seen other authors attempt. What’s more, he was including these characters in his work decades ago, before mainstream media was even focusing on the issue of diversity.

Whatever his faults, Stephen King remains ahead of other authors in portraying disabilities, whether physical or mental, and with a surge in rep for gay, trans, or Black characters, it may be time to focus on the overlooked issue of disabled characters in stories - it’s something for us to consider, and I have to thank Stephen King for exploring this form of diversity when nobody else was.

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twentytarot · 4 years ago

Photo

hi everyone! let’s find out what your life is destined to be like. pick the image that sets your thoughts off and scroll down to your respective pile for your reading! 🍱

PILE ONE: SNOW

not only are you intelligent, you are intelligent in a way that allows you to adapt to almost any circumstance whether in school or at work. naturally, this means you have multiple viable options when it comes to career and life choices.

anyway, the point is: options. you can become the highest flyer, or you could fly a little lower and help someone else out. for example, you could become a very successful corporate lawyer, working for people who have more money than they can spend in a lifetime, or you could choose to go into academics and counselling, losing a good chunk of your salary, but you would be able to help others. if you’ve already decided on your career, then it would apply in another context (such as the company you’re working for).

the truth is, we need both kinds of people in this world, so either option is equally valid. and you really could do either and excel. yet, something tells me that in the end, you’ll be happier if you feel that you’re contributing to society, though you may choose to take this path only later in life.

PILE TWO: HOT AIR BALLOON

there’s a very important piece of information that not many people know of, and it ends up kind of running your life. it could be the knowledge of a family secret, or maybe knowing the truth about something that someone was deceived by. whatever this block is, it has you hyperfocusing on the past. on what could’ve been or what you could have done differently, perhaps. as a result you’ve isolated yourself and you’ve been feeling alone. not enough for your world to stop because you’re still trudging on, but enough that it crosses your mind often.

you will finally stand up, bandage your wounds and move on, perhaps with the help of a capricorn. if there’s no one around (especially if you yourself are an earth sign), then you will find the magic in routine and pick yourself up with the rhythm of life. and with the first step, half the battle will already be won. first, you will find yourself much more stable emotionally and mentally. then, you will unlock your potential, step out of that formant state, and grow to achieve some big things in life. there’s a significant upgrade here: from someone who only knows stable to someone who knows excitement and motivation, and finally to someone who knows abundance, love and happiness.

you’re probably only at the beginning of this journey, so don’t panic if you’re nowhere near ready. all in time. :)

PILE THREE: KITTEN

hmm... i don’t think you grew up in the best circumstances emotionally. your family was either the lawnmower kind, very controlling or constantly in conflict (or all of the above); whatever the case, it stunted your growth as a child. i almost feel like you didn’t see the world as it really is because you thought that you were tied to one path and one path only. you may resent the people who contributed to this tunnel-like outlook you developed and decide to break away, but you probably will not be able to completely shake them out of your life until much later.

that’s why i think in your life, the most important thing for you will be building another family of your own. listen— people make this sound like a bad thing; but this just means it’s just the part of your life where you’ll see the most growth and change.

your life isn’t the rollercoaster kind, it’s more like sitting on a tram going up a mountain. and on this tram, you’ll find that you boarded earlier than many people. you didn’t have the same headstart. don’t be ashamed of accepting help from people who only want to lift you up, and don’t feel like you’re less. everyone has had to hold another’s hand to get to the top of the mountain. in the end, you will become a perfected version of the people you left behind, and you will be successful too, like the people you’ve chose to surround yourself with.

PILE FOUR: BEDROOM

there was a point when you decided you saw enough of the world to make a conclusion, and the conclusion was: disappointed but not surprised. i don’t blame you— i think most of us wish the world were brighter, that it came with more pleasant surprises. still, there is plenty to be grateful for in your life. a little theme in your life is “if it’s not happy, it’s not the end”. effort that you put in inevitably returns in the form of abundance to you, even if it takes a while sometimes. i also believe you’ve always had someone there for you during bad times; at least, you’ve not had to go through your rock bottom moments alone.

in fact, there is someone, likely a life partner, that will come into your life and accompany you through the good and bad. the catch is that it isn’t very romantic or exciting, but it’s stable which is great for someone like you because you tend to get nervous about things easily. for example, your other half is more likely to show you love by replacing the broken shower head than buying you flowers. sometimes you appreciate it, sometimes you wish it were different, but life’s like that. we take for granted the things we have and wish we had more. if we find it in ourselves to be grateful for the good things instead, then we’re able to comfort ourselves a little better.

ps: i called this group the emotional support kpop bois group in my head, if you relate to that lol.

#pick a card #pick a pile #tarot readings #free tarot readings #pick a card readings

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untaemedqueen · 4 years ago

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The Lions Den

Mafia!Jiminx Wife!Reader

Genre: Mafia!AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Chapter 17.

Warnings: Smut, Blood, Guns, Knives, Excessive Cursing, Excessive Alcohol Intake, Smoking (Cigarettes and Cigars), Mental Health Issues

Warnings In This Chapter: Mentions of Mafia Heists, Cocaine Transport, Jimin Being A Psycho, Idiots Breaking Y/N’s Expensive Things

A/N: Man do I love my power couple. Shout out to my forever squad @ppersonna, @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia.

TagList- @ayyyocee, @mysugabear03, @wisebtsgot7prune, @imaforeigner, @yeonkiminnie, @stories1907, @ppersonna, @brilee64, @gooplibrary, @vivpurple7, @xjoonchildx, @brightwingr5, @yaniposts22, @rjsmochii, @taeslittletiger, @pjmcth, @bts-chub, @kpoppingthempills, @kim-ji-hyeons-world, @jikooksgirl19, @yoong-i, @ruinsofangels, @absolutefantrash, @chiminies-noona, @eclectically-esoteric, @simplybree, @outrofenty, @yxnxxli

“But Mommy I don’t want to go stay at Aunt Hyunah’s house! I want to stay with baby!” Hawon whines as she clutches on to your leg.

Your heart strings tug at her words as you stand in the entryway of the house. The way her small hands clutch onto your dress earns softened eyes from your husband as he stands at your side.

The silver cross is purchased between his teeth as he feels at the back of his waistband for his gun. It’s becoming a habit he can’t seem to break.

With a pout, you crouch down to your daughter’s height as you brush some stray baby hairs off of her forehead.

“I know you do but in a few days it will all be over and you’ll be able to see the baby all the time, okay?” You ask her softly as she wraps her arms around your neck.

Burying her face into the crook of your neck, she nods solemnly as she hugs you.

“That’s a good girl.” You whisper, pulling back and pressing your lips to her forehead.

Jimin checks his Rolex before petting Hawon’s head as she pulls away from you.

Your eyes flicker to Yoongi, who scratches his scar as he watches on at the sight before him.

“When you come over to my house, you’ll be able to eat all the sweets you want.” He suggests to your daughter.

She furrows her small eyebrows as you put her small backpack on her.

“Mommy and Daddy say candy is bad for your teeth, Uncle Yoongi.” She murmurs, earning giggles from both of her parents as she trudged to the doorway.

“Okay big boy! Time to go to Uncle Yoongi’s.” Jimin whispers, kissing his son’s forehead.

Minseok looks up at you with big eyes before smiling widely. You’re so grateful that your children have such innocent souls.

You watch the door close, seeing their small silhouettes slink out of sight before standing up straight and brushing off your dress.

“Okay.” Jimin whispers before pulling his gun out from behind his back.

He whistles loudly throughout the silent house as he wraps his arm around your shoulder before loud noises begin to travel up through the maid’s quarters.

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you bury your face into his sweet smelling chest.

“Boss.” You hear from the kitchen as his crew enters the sitting room.

“Let’s make this place a fortress.” He says before looking down at you and smiling.

“Watch the fucking vase, Haneul!” You yell.

The priceless vase teeters on the stand before stilling and you breathe out a sigh of relief as your husband picks it up.

“Sorry, Madam!” Haneul calls as he sets up the tripod for the automatic machine gun.

“Fucking idiot. You break it, you buy it.” Jimin seethes as he smacks the back of the younger man’s head.

Your husband’s arms extend as you stand in the entryway watching your house become a gun museum.

“Kitten. Why so serious?” He asks as he sets the vase on the coffee table approaching you slowly.

His hand rubs at your stomach first before engulfing you in a hug. Rubbing soothing circles on your back, you cringe loudly as you hear glass breaking.

“Oh you fucking morons!” Jimin yells as he turns his head to the broken vase on the hardwood floor.

“Sorry Boss! Shit!” One of the boys curses as he begins to pick up the pieces.

“Fucking stupid idiots.” He murmurs as you stomp your foot angrily.

Raising your eyebrows expectantly, he gives you a nervous chuckle before kissing your forehead.

“I’ll buy you a new one?” He asks, giving you a fake smile.

Rolling your eyes, you scoff before shoving people out of your way to enter the kitchen.

“Oh Kitten! I’m sorry, baby!” Jimin calls to you before punching the boy at fault.

“Baby! I’m sorry!” He yells as you step out into the garden.

Stepping along the newly placed pebble walkway, you take in the nice weather as the red and orange leaves fall from the limbs of the trees you’ve become so familiar with.

This is madness, everything around you is chaotic and you’re smack dab in the middle trying to make sense of it all.

As psychotic as Jimin seems to have become, you can understand his heart.

You can understand just how detrimental this all is to him. To have family and loved ones in danger would make anyone go crazy. But, he seems to have a plan, and when your husband has a plan he would stop at nothing to go through with it.

Your hand lands on your stomach as you sit down on the chaise lounge by the fire pit. Your fingers drift over your small bump as you watch the sun nestle into a cluster of clouds sending the skies into various shades of pinks and purples.

“Kitten, I’m sorry my love.” Jimin calls to you as he jogs down the walkway. He sheathed his gun behind his back before frowning as you slowly turned your head to him.

“I want all the priceless things removed before they break everything in my fucking house.” You tell him sternly and he nods as he steps over the stone steps to approach you.

“Anything you want.” He whispers before seeing a feminine body wade through the kitchen.

Both of your heads turn to the woman as she steps out of the kitchen into the backyard.

Rina stands with a manila folder between her two fingers closely followed by Kirsoon as he fixes his suit jacket.

Jimin smiles widely before flagging them over.

“Oh, it’s a party now.” He mumbles before pulling you into his lap as they make their way over.

“Good evening.” Rina says as she sits in the chair opposite you and your husband.

“Hey.” You say as you look her over.

She was so nervous and frail when you first asked her to take over for you at the casino. Now, as you look at her you can’t help the elation you feel watching her confidence grow.

“I have the plans for the party if you’re interested.” She says, holding up the folder.

Jimin smiles widely, his hand opening and closing as he leans forward.

She giggles at his enthusiasm handing him the envelope as he purchases the silver cross between his teeth.

“Oh, Kitten. This is going to be so much fun.” He murmurs as he places the folder on your lap.

Opening it, his chin hooks over your shoulder as you peruse through the documents.

If everything goes to plan it would be a grand welcome. This is one of the only things you can contribute but with so many mafia families being invited, something is bound to go wrong.

The theme of Casino Night is roaring twenties but more importantly it’s a chance to take in information on all of the mafia families in the area.

One of them has to be against you and all you have to do is work it out. Easy, right?

Your husband runs his hand over your stomach as he holds you closer.

“You got all the extra cameras installed? Everything is set up?” He asks Kirsoon who nods in agreement.

“I don’t want someone taking a shit without me knowing about it. I don’t want anything to fall out from underneath us. One of these fucks is putting my family in danger. So help me God, I will find out who it is.” He mumbles through clenched teeth as you look at the documents.

“What about weapons, where will we be storing them?” You ask your husband as he runs his fingers over the silver chain around his neck.

“In baggage claim. No one is coming in with weapons, Kirsoon. If they do, I’ll cut your balls off and put them on a necklace for you to wear.”

The bigger man swallows thickly before nodding wearily at his bosses words.

“Yes Boss.” He whispers before clearing his throat and bowing his head.

“In just a week’s time. We’ll get these fuckers. Until then, I want you both to be careful. Don’t go anywhere without each other.”

“That’s um… something I came over to talk to you about. If you turn to the last page, you can see why we can’t do it in a week's time.” Rina whispers as she points at the manila folder.

Your husband's eyebrows furrow before tossing all the pages onto the grass underfoot.

His eyes scan the paper before scoffing loudly.

“What do you mean it’ll take two whole months to fortify the safe and security features?! I’m asking to install automatic guns, not fucking switch bombs!” Your husband yells as he wiggles the paper back and forth.

You give a loud sigh in disappointment before turning to your husband. You watch as his neck veins protrude and thicken as he goes through his bout of anger.

“Well...two months is worth the wait. I guess.” You say to him as you fix some of his hair behind his ear.

“You’ll be five months pregnant and showing by then.” He mumbles to you.

“That’s alright.” You whisper, earning a loud scoff from him.

“No Kitten. It’s not alright, then if whoever it is sees my baby growing inside of you they’ll work harder to attack us. Goddammit!” He screams, crumpling up the paper and throwing it at Kirsoon.

The paper ball hits the man’s broad chest and he looks at you nervously as Jimin repeatedly taps your thigh to get off of him.

You do as told, sliding down the chaise lounge as he begins to pace back and forth. He pulls his gun out from his waistband and you watch on with bored eyes as he begins to shoot the large trunked tree that has been through quite a bit in this garden of yours.

He empties the whole clip, screaming in anger all the while before men file out of the kitchen with their guns drawn.

His fingers run through his hair before sneering at them.

“Get back to work!” He yells before putting his gun back in his waistband.

With a grunt, he kisses your forehead.

“I’ll be back.” He whispers.

“And, where do you think you’re going?” You call to him as he takes off down the pebbled road.

“To have some fucking fun!” He calls back as he enters the kitchen.

“Jimin...I don’t know if we should be doing this.” Taehyung whispers to his best friend as they sit in the back of the van.

"Shut up. If you feel so terribly about it then just stay in the truck." He murmurs before purchasing his silver cross between his teeth.

"I don't feel terrible about it, I just don't want any aftermath." His best friend mumbles beneath his breath, something the keen mafia leader hears anyway.

"There will always be aftermath, Tae. Always. Don't go pussying out on me because you got your wife pregnant." Jimin mumbles as he loads bullets into his gun.

There's silence in the van apart from Jeongguk shuffling around and taking swigs of his whisky.

"You're stinking up the van with that sh-" His voice is cut off to the youngest by the loud ringing of his prepaid phone.

Answering it, he puts the phone on speaker as Taehyung peaks out the driver's side window.

"We got a shipment on our twelve. Looks like a heavy load." He hears Jin call through the phone.

"Clean take, no left overs." Jimin says back as he rolls the silencer onto the mouth of his gun.

The same words are uttered by the men, one the phone and in the van before the call ends.

Jimin tosses the prepaid phone to the youngest who takes off the back and pulls out the battery.

His fingers are sloppy but quick as he pulls out the prepaid SIM card. Jimin makes it a point to watch the youngest put the card in his mouth before taking a swig of whisky to wash it down.��

"Open your mouth." Jimin instructs and he nods pleased with Guk before pressing his body against the back doors of the van.

"They stopped." Taehyung whispers as he cock his gun.

Jimin holds his hand up in a fist, before lifting his fingers ever so slowly counting.

"One...Two...Three." He whispers aloud before barreling open the back doors and jumping out onto the dirt road.

With the guys quick on his tail, they slowly sneak around the parked van.

"Junggoo is going to flip when he sees all this coke. This is our biggest delivery yet!" The driver cheers happily.

Jimin stations himself below the driver's door and waits for Taehyung's signal.

What the Im's were doing in the cocaine business was anybody's guess but they're taking money and land away from Hyunah and that would not do.

Taehyung whistles loudly and Jimin stands up.

"What the fuc-" The scream is cut off as Jimin smiles widely, his silver cross purchased between his teeth as he pulls the trigger.

The blood splatter is something out of a modernist painting as it coats the windshield and he can't help the throaty chuckle that leaves his throat. Wipin bgg some blood off of his cheek, he begins to whistle as Guk opens the back doors of the drug trunk.

"We got kilos on kilos, Boss." He slurs and Jimin's smile widens as he slowly makes his way to the back.

Jin's van pulls up in a matter of seconds, dirt flying into the air as he backs the truck up. Taehyung pulls open the doors and the unloading begins.

Hoseok jumps out of the passenger's side, holding up the phone. Pulling off the back and battery, he swallows the SIM card in Jimin's line of sight before going to change the plates of the abandoned van by the side of the dirt road.

"So where are we taking it?" Namjoon asks as he hangs his body out of the window of the van.

"To the Lee's den. Yoongi is waiting there with some men to distribute and cut." He tells him, earning nods.

"We heard about Casino Night, sorry Chim." Jin says as he walks around the van to his boss.

Jimin lights a cigarette before posting up against the side, his foot purchased on the white metal before shrugging.

"Guess I'll just have to raise hell until I can get my revenge." He notices Jeongguk's smirk out of the corner of his eye before smiling widely.

"And raising hell has always been a skill I've been extremely good at."

#the lions den #thebtswritersclub #btswritingcafe #btscreatorscorner #mafia!jimin #bts mafia!au #mafia!jimin x reader #bts story #bts series

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tripleaxeldiaz · 4 years ago

Text

maybe one day i’ll fly next to you

chapter 5/8

read on ao3

start from the beginning

The Final is a big deal. Even more so this year since it’s the last international competition before the Olympics — the last chance to show the world that you’re worthy of their attention come February. Buck’s been to five of the last eight Finals, and usually all the extra attention from press and fans, even during non-Olympic seasons, make him giddy with excitement, adrenaline pumping through him for almost a solid week before he actually competes.

This time, however, it’s been a week of feeling like he’s going to throw up any second.

It’s not because he’s doing bad at practices — in fact, he’s feeling better than ever, even got to work out his shaky landing on his quad flip that’s been haunting him for weeks. Ice looks the same no matter where you are, so it’s easy for him to get lost in the two hours he’s out there and forget everything and everyone else around him while he works.

When he steps off the ice, though, he’s thrust right back into a world where everyone is keeping an eye on him, watching him to see if he’ll live up to the expectations of being one of the best US skaters a top Olympic hopeful, or if he’ll crumble under the pressure of trying to be the best but always falling a little bit short, especially since the last Games. He’s always viewed it as a redemption — overcoming his injury and clawing his way back to the top — but he can’t control how outsiders view it, has no idea if they feel the same way or have counted him out all together. ESPN can do as many pieces on him as they want, but they can’t guarantee that people are still rooting for him. He’s sure people are talking about him, but he’s steered clear of social media knowing that even if there are nice things about him floating around, it’ll still make him feel worse, crushed by more and more expectations that he’s still not sure he’s going to live up to.

He misses when all that attention would make him feel like he was invincible.

The biggest thing keeping him sane — despite the 6,000 miles between LA and Turin — is Eddie. They’d seen each other plenty before Buck left, Eddie still coming to the rink every day for PT and light workouts so he could stay in shape while he recovered. It was good, it was normal, even if Eddie wasn’t skating.

But the night before his flight to Italy, the prospect of being at one of the most important competitions of the season, of his life, without most of his other teammates had hit him hard once again, sucking all the air out of his lungs and making the room spin.

He called Eddie without even thinking and barely heard him say “Hello?” before he was spilling everything, letting out all the fears and worries he had been trying to keep under control since Bobby told him he was going to the Final. Despite being caught very off guard at 12:30 in the morning, Eddie had listened to it all — really listened, Buck could tell even over the phone. He sympathized with his fears and doubts and didn’t try to downplay them with empty platitudes. And somehow, in those frantic moments, to be heard like that was enough. Enough for the worries in Buck’s head to quiet down and retreat back into the shadows, enough for him to finally be able to breathe. They kept talking afterwards, the smooth timbre of Eddie’s voice making his eyes feel heavier and heavier, until they close and open again to sunlight filtering into his room, his phone on the pillow next to him with a disconnected call and a text that says You’re going to be amazing. Call me whenever you need me.

Buck didn’t think he’d take Eddie up on that, but he’s called him every day since he arrived and every time, no matter what time it is, Eddie picks up and listens to him.

On the last day of practice before short programs, dread settles heavy in Buck’s stomach and doesn’t get any lighter as the day wears on. He skates at the practice rink until his fingers feel numb with cold, and works out after even longer, blasting music in his headphones so he’s not alone with his thoughts for too long. He’s exhausted when he gets back to his room, the quiet that’s become so unfamiliar mixing with the dread and weighing down Buck’s entire body, feeling like it’s trying to push him straight down into the earth. Sinking onto the bed, he dials Eddie’s number.

Five rings, and no answer. He tries again. Nothing.

He tosses his phone to the side and sighs. The dread had lightened ever so slightly at the mere prospect of getting to talk to Eddie, but now it’s back in full force. If he lays here for too long, he’s worried he might melt right into the bedspread.

There’s a knock at the door, and takes every ounce of mental and physical strength he has to get him up. He has a brief, delusional thought that maybe the person on the other side of the door is the same one who didn’t answer his phone, but it’s quickly squashed when there’s another knock, followed by a voice that’s definitely not Eddie’s.

“Buck? I know you’re in there, and I can get my hands on a master key if you don’t let me in right now.”

Hen.

He opens the door quickly, because he thinks she’s bluffing, but there’s also a very real chance that she’s not. He stands at his full height, pushing back against the dread, and plasters on a smile. “Don’t tell me you have notes 12 hours before the competition starts?”

She looks him up and down, looks through him it seems, judging by the way he suddenly wants to curl in on himself, hide whatever it is she’s looking for. She finds it, he guesses, because she nods decisively and pushes into his room. She grabs his still packed skating bag from the foot of the bed and tosses him his jacket as she goes back into the hallway.

“Come on,” she calls over her shoulder. “We’re going for a drive.”

It takes a minute for Buck’s brain to catch up with everything, but when it does, he hustles to meet her at the elevators. They make their way to the parking lot next to the hotel, where Hen unlocks the Fiat Bobby had rented for the week to get them around. “Bobby’s cool with you taking the car?”

She shrugs. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt me.”

“So I’m basically being kidnapped right now.”

“You would’ve stayed in your room if you really didn’t want to come.”

He smiles a real smile at that — she knows him too well.

Turin is beautiful at night. The city bustles with energy as people mill around, window shopping and filling up tables outside of cafes despite the early December chill. Christmas decorations have already been hung in windows and strung over rooftops, thousands of lights washing the streets in twinkling colors. Buck lets his eyes relax as he stares out the window, losing himself in the colors that pass by, hoping they’ll burn the heaviness right out of him. They stop outside the Palavela, standing out in its shadowy height among the brightness, decked out in ISU flags in anticipation for the start of competition tomorrow. Hen turns off the car and gets out, walking into the shadows of the arena and almost disappearing before Buck catches up. They make their way to the service entrance at the back of the building, where Hen pulls a key out of her coat pocket and unlocks the door.

Buck’s jaw drops. “I believed you about the hotel, but how did you get a key to this place?”

“A lot of people owe me a lot of favors,” she says, leading the way through the back hallways.

It occurs to Buck that he doesn’t even know why they’re here, didn’t bother to ask, but regardless, he follows her deeper into the belly of the building. Hallways twist and turn as they follow them seemingly at random, until they finally make it to a set of double doors. Hen pushes them open, and Buck has a moment of panic when he sees what’s on the other side.

“Isn’t it bad luck to see the main rink the day before a competition?”

Hen rolls her eyes and walks inside. “You’re not getting married, Buck. And we’re not just here for the ice.” She keeps moving, up into the stands and further up the stairs to the mid-level walkway. It’s a former Olympic venue, so there’s thousands and thousands of seats, and the reminder that in a few short hours, they’ll be filled with people waiting to see Buck thrive or fail spectacularly weighs him down even more, coming down on his shoulders and threatening to make him stumble. He does stumble when he runs into Hen, who’s stopped dead center of the walkway, eyes warm and bright as she nods towards the other side of the rink.

Tears swim into his vision, but not because of shot nerves or worry this time (though those may be contributing to how quickly this is making him emotional).

Fans bring posters to events all the time — beautiful, handmade posters emblazoned with flags and encouraging quotes, showing their love for their favorite skaters and teams. They’re made of cardboard or printed on fabric, but are usually small, hard to see unless you’re watching on TV or very close to the boards. Sometimes, though — with special permission from the venue, usually — they go big, creating huge tarps that get hung up on the banisters surrounding the seats and stay there all week, loudly cheering for their favorites even when they may not be in the stands.

Which is exactly what Buck comes face to face with — two banners hung across part of the middle banister, covering at least 15 seats. One has a picture of him from Autumn Classic, smiling with his gold medal, with “Go Buck Go!” in big block letters over his head, all on a deep red background and surrounded by golden fireworks. The other — the one that really takes his breath away — is a collage of pictures from his programs over the years, some of his more memorable spins and poses emblazoned across the dark blue fabric. His final pose from his short this season, reaching toward the crowd and looking off into the distance, is featured most prominently, with an ornate script next to it that reads “Evan Buckley: Future Olympic Champion”.

He grips the railing a little tighter to keep himself steady, feels Hen’s hand rubbing up and down his back.

“How—” he starts, voice a little raw.

“Bobby and I saw them when we came by earlier to get our credentials. We think someone hung them up after the short dance today so they’d be ready for tomorrow.”

“Wow,” is all Buck can manage. He’s seen his face on plenty of posters, but never like this, never something that he could see from anywhere in the arena, loudly proclaiming that there are fans in his corner, people beyond himself and his sister that see him at the top of the Olympic podium. He knows they're out there, rationally, when he’s not riddled with nerves and self doubt, but still. It’s nice to be reminded. And what a reminder this is.

“I know it’s been a rough week for you,” Hen says quietly, hand still on his back. “But just...take this in. Let it push you through the next few months. They’re rooting for you, Buck. We all are. You’ve got to keep rooting for yourself too.”

As usual, she’s right — Buck went into this season as his own biggest fan, with one goal in mind that felt like it had been slipping farther and farther away with every fall and every less than perfect score. That drive to win gold becoming more and more desperate as the weeks wore on — like if he didn’t get back to where he should be, where he needed to be, he might not survive. But he has people — his team, his family, and fans like this — who are still envisioning that success for him, who believe in him no matter what. Who will still be in his corner even if he doesn’t make it to the top. Who he wants to prove right for believing in him.

Hen pats his back one last time and heads back down the stairs. Buck lingers a little longer, taking in every detail of the banners that he can, since he won’t be able to appreciate them properly tomorrow. He sneaks a few pictures on his phone, quickly shooting them off to Maddie and Eddie. It doesn’t feel like bragging — they’re at the very top of the list of people that have constantly pulled him up when he falls down the hardest. He knows they’ll appreciate this for him, just like Hen did. They’ll understand how much this means to him.

As he follows Hen’s path down the stairs, the heaviness he had convinced himself was etched into his bones feels like it stays behind, making it easier to breathe, easier to be.

Hen’s next to the boards holding his skates out to him. “You’ve got like 30 minutes — skate it out. I’ll stand watch by the door.” He takes them and sets them on the bench before enveloping her in a hug, rocking back and forth as she laughs into his shoulder. She ruffles his hair and pats his cheek before going to her post.

He feels at peace on the ice, finally. The cold isn’t harsh, it’s invigorating. The fluorescent lights aren’t too bright, they’re comforting, lighting up the grooves and divots of the ice, showing all the paths Buck can follow. A couple of laps gets his blood pumping, roaring in his ears and blocking out everything else. He starts with some easy steps — rockers and three turns, over and over like he did in skating lessons when he was a kid, losing himself in the repetition. When he feels good, really good, he goes for a quad flip, confidence flowing into every stroke as he gets in position. He takes off, and he feels light again — right again — like he’s flying, not falling, not sinking.

Figuratively and literally rising.

~~~~~~~~~~

There’s two missed calls from Eddie when he gets back to his room, and still riding the high of his good mood, he FaceTimes him.

“Wow, I really missed that smile,” Eddie says when the call connects, and Buck rolls his eyes, not even bothering to hide the blush he can feel warm his cheeks. Eddie must have just gotten back from PT — his hair is falling in swoops over his forehead, damp with sweat, his tank top sticking to what little Buck can see of his chest. His blush gets a couple of shades darker, he’s sure, as he tries not to let his eyes linger anywhere for too long.

Buck flops onto the bed on his back, holding his phone in front of his face. “I had a pretty good night,” he says with feigned nonchalance.

“Seeing banners of your giant face already proclaiming you the next gold medalist will do that to you.” Buck laughs and Eddie laughs with him, the sound like pure happiness, burning out the very last of the dread that had been following him since he arrived. It stops quickly when Eddie sits down on his couch and hisses, wincing as he shuffles to get comfortable.

“Rough day with Lena?” He saw her every day for two months straight once upon a time, he knows how hard she can push.

“Rough couple of days.”

“Are you feeling better, at least? Do the doctors think it’s healing okay?”

“I have a check-up tomorrow, but it’s fine. Just sore.” He finally settles but he still looks like he’s in pain. Buck wants to press, wants to know every detail of his last few days — what exercises he’s done, when the pain really got worse, if he’s resting enough. But this isn’t his injury, and everyone heals differently. And he trusts Eddie, trusts him to know how to take care of himself like he promised he would.

“Anyway,” Eddie says lightly, clearly trying to change the subject. Buck lets him. “I’m sure this good night will make for a good day tomorrow, too. You feel ready?”

“I do,” Buck answers. He’s pleasantly surprised to find that he actually means it.

“Good. I know you’ll be great. And you’ll have my sleep deprived text commentary to look forward to when you finish.”

Buck winces. “I’m not gonna be skating until like 4AM your time, you really don’t—”

“I really do. I really want to. And there’s not a whole lot you can do to stop me.” Eddie flashes his crowd-charming smile and Buck feels like he’s melting into the mattress again. He tries for a snappy comeback, anything to keep Eddie talking, but he cuts himself off with a yawn, the exhaustion from the week seeming to catch up with him all at once.

Eddie’s smile gets a little softer. “Go to sleep, Buck. I’m gonna take a nap too so I make sure I wake up on time.”

“Okay, okay. Goodnight Eds.”

“Goodnight. Knock ‘em dead tomorrow.”

After they hang up, Buck gives himself a minute, just a minute, to really bask in that, in Eddie’s active support of him from halfway across the world. It’s one thing to have your teammates watch your programs from the stands, but to find competitions on TV, if they’re being shown at all? To figure out time zones and wake up at ungodly hours just to watch you skate live? It may not seem like much, but it’s everything to Buck. He’s only gotten this kind of commitment from one other person in his life — even his parents stopped keeping up once he started competing abroad more. And it’s different with Maddie — they’ve been on this road together for almost two decades, so intertwined with each other’s successes and failures that they’re hard to differentiate sometimes. Sure, Eddie’s been a part of his life for years now too, but as competition, an obstacle he kept trying and failing to overcome. It’s different now that they’re...whatever they are. Friends. Almost something else.

For the second time tonight, Buck’s reminded of how grateful he is to have another solid, supportive presence in his corner. The last lingering bits of heaviness and loneliness evaporate from within him, and he knows this weekend will be good for him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Second place.

Second place is fine. Second place is great, actually. Second place is enough to show the USFSA that he’s still a contender, that he can still keep up with the best of the best despite a rocky first half of the season.

But second place is not first place. Even if it’s only six points away.

Overall, Buck is happy with his performance. He was clean on his step sequences, attacked every jump, and didn’t fall once. And six points behind the skater from Japan that everyone considers Eddie’s biggest international rival, his biggest threat against his potential Olympic gold, would make most other people ecstatic.

He’s not most other people, though. This past week has reignited the fire in his belly and it’s burning brighter than it has in a while. The medal ceremony, the interviews, the gala, everything flashes by because all he can think about is getting back to work, changing transitions and tweaking spins until even the smallest gap between him and any other skater is erased. Until he knows his programs are undoubtedly gold medal worthy.

It’s refreshing — a relief — to be back in this headspace, being pushed forward by obstacles and less-than-perfection instead of dragged into spiraling sadness.

He almost loses it a couple of times, especially when he decides to take an innocent peek at Twitter to see what fans had to say about the Final, the words “overscored” and “inconsistent” swimming in front of him until they don’t mean anything anymore, just leave doubt lingering, trying to find the home in Buck’s brain that it had just vacated. In those moments, he goes back to his messages and rereads the live texts he’d gotten all weekend, and one in particular that makes his heart skip two beats every time he sees it:

[from: Eddie] I think you make everyone fall a little bit in love with you every time you skate

Eddie sent it in the middle of his free skate, in the middle of dozens of other compliments and criticism of other skaters, and Buck’s sure he was half awake when he sent it, but it fills him with something he doesn’t quite have a name for. Something that makes all of the harsh words and doubts disappear, because none of those matter when Eddie is here telling him that he’s good, that he deserves all of his scores and praises. That he’s loved, no matter how often he may forget.

Another fire is burning in him, a little above the one in his gut, but it’s pushing him just as hard to prove his worth.

~~~~~~~~~

There’s four weeks left until Nationals, and Eddie still isn’t better.

Buck can tell he’s getting frustrated too — the tension in his shoulders gets tighter and tighter, the set of his mouth harder and harder each day he comes to the rink still wearing his air cast, only able to work in the gym and with Lena, far away from the ice and the excited chatter of preparing for the second half of the season. Buck tries to be there, a shoulder to lean on, someone to listen, but he also knows how Eddie operates — he’ll slap on a smile and say he’s fine until he’s really not, until he cracks from the inside out and finally explodes with everything he’s been holding in so he keeps up this air of perfection he’s made for himself. Buck used to think it was annoying, that perfect facade, but now he knows it’s more defensive than anything, Eddie just trying to protect himself from the world and maybe from himself.

Buck doesn’t take it personally anymore, and he’s going to do his damned best to be there to keep the cracks from spreading.

It’s after 10pm when he walks into the gym, still breathing heavily from practice, his muscles burning from overuse and the need to be stretched. He was certain he was alone, so he just about jumps out of his skin when he sees someone lying on the padded floor in front of the mirrors. When he gets closer, his blood runs cold for an entirely different reason.

It’s Eddie.

Buck’s first thought is to call for an ambulance, because why else would Eddie be lying on the floor if he hadn’t hurt himself again? But as he gets closer still, Buck thinks this might be intentional. He’s on his back, headphones on, eyes closed, rhythmically tapping his hands to whatever song he’s listening to on his stomach. As Buck's shadow passes over his face, he opens his eyes and blinks at him for a minute before giving a half-hearted smile and closing his eyes again. He looks sadder, somehow, than he has in the past weeks, dark circles under his eyes and none of the golden glow that seems to follow him wherever he goes (though that may be coming just from Buck’s own imagination anyway).

Buck’s not really sure what to do here, how to fix whatever it is that’s making Eddie feel so bad.

So he lays down right next to him and waits.

The headphones come off after 10 minutes, and Eddie doesn’t open his eyes for another five. When he does, he looks over to Buck, and rather than something supportive or sweet or literally anything else, he says the first dumb thing that comes to his head:

“Are we meditating?”

But he gets an actual smile out of it from Eddie, so he takes it as a win.

Eddie scrubs his hands over his face. “Trying to, I think.” He turns onto his side, facing Buck, and Buck turns to mirror him. He can tell Eddie is searching for his words, the right phrasing to get his point across, and he’s willing to wait as long as he needs to for Eddie to share.

Finally, he takes a long, steadying breath. “My doctor said I might not be able to skate until the end of January, which means I might miss Nats, which means I might not—” he gestures vaguely at that, like he expects Buck to know what his silence means. Buck knows exactly what he means, and it makes him ache for Eddie, makes him reach out and squeeze his wrist when his eyes start to shine, thumb tracing over his pulse point trying to soothe him. “I’ve worked my ass off for weeks now to get better, and it still might not be good enough.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck says quietly. “I know it sucks. More than anything.”

Eddie goes quiet again, eyes drifting to where Buck is still holding his wrist. He pulls away for just a second before slotting their fingers together properly and gently squeezing. Like always, Buck marvels at how right it feels, to be holding Eddie’s hand.

“Did you know they’ve been saying I’m the favorite to win gold for three years now? Not to brag, but—” he says quickly, eyes wide. Buck chuckles because he knows — knows now — that Eddie doesn’t have an arrogant bone in his body. He squeezes his hand back and waits for him to keep going. “It’s all I can think about. Every time I fuck up a level or finish off podium, it just stays with me, makes me feel like I’m about to crash and burn and everyone is going to be disappointed in me because I’m not actually as good as they think.” Eddie’s trembling, squeezing his hand tighter to try and stop it. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe I tricked everyone into believing in me, and this stupid busted ankle is—”

“Hey, hey, no,” Buck says, pulling them up to sitting and cupping Eddie’s face in his hands as his tears threaten to spill over, slipping through the cracks. “You don’t deserve this, Eddie, no one deserves to be injured. Believe me, I know what it’s like to put all of your worth into this, and I still do it, but...you’re worth so much more than just your skating. To the fans, to the team. To me.” Eddie’s eyes drift away from his, trying to find an escape, but Buck holds firm until they drift back. “You are good. Not just a good skater, but a good person. You’ll always have that, gold medals or not. And if no one else believes in you, I do.”

Eddie stares at him, looking dumbstruck, and he’s quiet for so long that Buck worries he went too far, bared himself a little too much. He’s about to backtrack, save both of them whatever awkwardness might come, but Eddie surges forward before he can and kisses him so fiercely he swears the earth stands still.

He pushes away just as quickly, eyes wide in panic. “Shit, Buck, I’m sorry, I know we—” but Buck cuts him off, kissing him slow and deep, hands tangling into Eddie’s hair trying to pull him as close as possible. Eddie’s everywhere, his taste, his smell, his touch, and when he feels Eddie’s smile against his mouth, a smile that he put there, he feels like flying.

It finally clicks for Buck that he doesn’t have to — doesn’t want to — compartmentalize his life so much anymore. Skating and Eddie make him happier than pretty much anything. Why shouldn’t he have both?

They break apart slowly and rest their foreheads together. Buck ended up in Eddie’s lap at some point, and from here he can’t see anything but Eddie, gets lost in the curve of his cheekbones and the pout of his lips, and mentally smacks himself for thinking it was really better not having all of this. Eddie is in his corner, always, and he wants to be in Eddie’s too. Wants him to know he’s there, to remember even at his lowest points that he’s not alone, ever.

Eddie finally opens his eyes and smiles at Buck, soft but absolutely breathtaking. He squeezes his arms a little tighter around Buck’s waist, and Buck is more than happy to get as close as he can, would crawl into Eddie’s chest and stay there forever if he could.

“What are you thinking?” Eddie asks quietly.

Buck’s thinking a lot of things, or at least he was, but now that he’s focused on honey brown eyes so full of affection he could drown in them, his only real thought is Eddie Eddie Eddie.

“I think we’re stupid,” he says after a minute, and Eddie’s laugh echos around the empty gym.

“We’re stupid?”

“Okay, I’m stupid. But I think I want to fix that.”

“Oh really?”

“I think I want to be here for you, for everything.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“I think I want to remind you how amazing you are whenever I can.”

“Buck—”

“I think I want to convince you of how incredible you are whenever you stop believing it.”

Eddie’s eyes are shining again, but his smile could also put the sun to shame.

“And I think I really, really want to keep kissing you.”

Eddie shakes his head, smile getting bigger and somehow pulling Buck even closer. “I think we can make that happen,” he whispers.

He kisses him again, and Buck is soaring.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #9-1-1 #fs au #ficcery #there's still so much figure skating drama left i hope y'all are psyched

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rebellionbeach · 3 years ago

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HELLO apparently July 28th is the release date for Down to Earth therefore in honor of its 42nd birthday I wanna do a ranking of all the songs based on my personal preference of course.

(I’m only doing songs from the original studio release sorry no Bad Girl or Weiss Heim but they’re both sexy ;))

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lwCsMQWkN3g

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o7YOM4gx3RE (spark don’t mean a fire aka the alternate version don’t worry it’s beautiful)

8. No Time To Lose: Starting off this list we’ve got the second song off this record and it isn’t bad in anyway. In fact, it’s very upbeat and energetic, especially with Graham’s absolutely stunning vocals. However, compared to the rest of the list I feel it falls just a bit short. The lyrics themselves are actually pretty dark looking at them with examples such as, “It ain’t no lie, you’re hurting and you don’t know why.” Don’t know what Roger or Ritchie were going through but damn, anyway, musically the song is also very strong. The guitar riff is addicting but I feel it’s the combination of, again, Graham’s vocals and Cozy’s monstrous drumming that gives this song so much energy. Not bad at all from a song that’s at the bottom of a list.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1P17ct4e5OE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_v0bDfZytwk (Russ Ballard version, it’s really good)

7. Since You’ve Been Gone: Listen, I know many may judge this choice but I didn’t put this song at the bottom because of one, the sentimental value it has, and two, it’s not a bad song at all. Okay, it’s not the best as well but Russ Ballard made a beautiful song about heartbreak that is only made greater by this glorious lineup. I’ve actually listened to Ballard’s originally version and while it isn’t bad, I feel that Graham really helped cement this song and really put Rainbow on the charts. I especially enjoy the interlude section that drops into a sweet ballad type tone before dropping back into the chorus. Graham’s versatile vocals are well-equipped to amplify this song to a new level and not only that but without this song I probably would have never started listening to Rainbow. Although very commercialized and maybe too light to many, this song holds a special place in my heart and I do love it dearly.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g2XDORONuuY

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WmQBKq0d_-I (Cozy Powell mix, yes it’s exactly what you’d think it would sound like if the drummer was the producer)

6. All Night Long: The second real commercialized song on this album and honestly the last. However, where it differs from the other is that this song still has big traces of that hard rock attitude that Rainbow had emerged into. That simple yet beautiful riff that gets stuck in your head, Cozy’s powerful drumming, Graham’s powerhouse vocals, I mean what else do you really want from a song. Just from that opening riff you feel that rush of just pure hard rock energy shiver through your body. It really is just a fun hard rock song that, although may not be anything too complex, isn’t bad at all.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EeVFTeXs1o8

5. Danger Zone: Danger Zone always stood out to me as a very interesting and different song. Don is absolutely phenomenal in this song, especially his keyboard solo which Ritchie follows up upon to make a beautiful instrumental section. I’d be remiss to not mention Graham who hits at some of his highest parts here. This song really showed off the prowess of his full vocal abilities, hitting high notes with all the strength you’d expect from a hard rock singer. The actual lyrics of the song are quite beautiful as well I believe. Parts such as, “Don’t understand when you’re looking for a dame but it’s only a heartbreak away. And you’ll learn, faking has no return.” Really suspecting some mental instability from either Roger or Ritchie at this point...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O8FcrH1lDeY

4. Eyes of the World: Many may be surprised why this song isn’t higher up the list but trust me, I have good reasons. Eyes of the World is definitely a highlight piece in this album and really is a final goodbye to the Dio era of Rainbow. The subject manner is very of that era and really feels like it could have been sung by Ronnie. I think to many this song helped alleviate the fears that Rainbow had gone fully vapid with it’s material (though we’ll see how that sentiment drags on throughout the next few years) Don Airey truly deserves the limelight here for that incredible keyboard intro that just sucks you into that dark world of evil. He really makes this song something truly special. Cozy Powell is phenomenal throughout all these tracks but especially in this track where he’s at his home environment and just listen to the interludes between the chorus and verse, just incredible. Then to our man of the hour, Graham Bonnet, he just absolutely kills it here. He puts so much passion and emotion into the vocals that I find it strange how anyone could possibly still doubt him as a suitable vocalist for the band. Ritchie’s solo here as well is probably one of my favorites off of this album just really makes this song something truly special. I often like to compare this piece to the Gates of Babylon or Tarot Woman to Down to Earth with an incredible keyboard intro and other-wordly themes of evil and darkness that make it a classic Rainbow tune.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iU__fm6QFvk

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lzQZoOvzzNo (Ain’t A Lot of Love In the Heart of Me, it’s brilliant and honestly parts are somewhat better than the final version lol)

3. Love’s No Friend: I remember reading an article that talked about this song being Rainbow’s Mistreated. That description always had stayed with me and while I partially agree with the statement, I also think this song is very different from the former. Yes, both deal with heartbreak and emanates a grandiose sense of grievance from that sentiment however it differs in how that sentiment is delivered. Mistreated, as stated by Blackmore, is really just a guitar song. The relies both on David’s great bluesy voice that can conceive that anguish in his voice like no other vocalist can (love ya Dave) and Blackmore’s just heart-wrenching solo at the end which is probably one of the most emotional guitar solos I’ve ever heard. With Love’s No Friend I find that it’s more of a complete package having all elements of the band contribute to the piece. Not that but the lyrics are much more refined in this song. I often find Mistreated’s lyrics very stale and boring since they’re basically just “I’ve been mistreated, I’ve been abused,” and the only reason they get away with that is because of David’s incredible vocal performances. Trust me, Graham’s an incredible performer as well but these lyrics have much more substance to them and I feel just stands taller as a complete song. Speaking of Graham, this is probably his strongest performance in the album. You know what part I’m talking about if you’ve listened to this song but THAT part is just wow, that solidified him as one of my favorite vocalists of all time. The entire song is really just a masterpiece and really just stands as one of the best Rainbow tunes in my opinion.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F1LvViMLKNo

2. Makin’ Love - Oh this song, how can I express my love for this song in ways that I haven’t already before. Well if you didn’t know before, I put this as #5 on my top 5 Rainbow tunes and I still stick to it. Let me just say, this is one of my favorite intros to any songs ever. Don Airey is just magical in this entire album (and his entire career) but he especially shines here. The simple yet beautiful little touches he adds throughout this song really makes it so much more profound. That, once again, addicting Blackmore riff that just goes on throughout the song making the listener feel as if they’re going through a lonely yet sentimental walk down memory lane. It kind of almost reminds me of one of my favorite Rick Springfield songs, Written In Rock, in that manner. I guess I’m just a sucker for a pretty love ballad but man does Graham make it even better. The man just had the perfect voice for these types of songs (please listen to Will You Be Home Tonight as an example) and he’s able to convey those vulnerable tones in his voice while maintaining that strong hard rock attitude like I’ve seen no other singer be able to. I didn’t even mention the sudden shift during the pre-chorus that’s complimented with Cozy’s ferocious cymbal playing. Overall, I’m just a sucker for a nice love song.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mRLHHftZEJA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7eRLQyXzZ1Y (the live Alcatrazz version because Yngwie is a cocky little piece of work and gets his guitar unplugged for 1 minute of the song, Graham is a beast here)

1. Lost In Hollywood - The magnum opus, probably not only the greatest Rainbow song but one of the greatest songs ever written and produced. I’ve already gone into detail about this song in my overall album review but just on first listening you can definitely tell that this song is something else. The energy, the tempo, is almost seems rushing like they’re running out of time on the record to give everything they wanted to show to the listener. The lyrics sort of remind me of Super Trouper (the Deep Purple one okay) if Super Trouper was an overdramatic and grandiose love ballad. It’s obvious that the song is talking about the overbearing nature of becoming famous and the sacrifices one has to make to get to the mantle. One of my favorite song lyrics of all time perfectly exemplify this through, “I’m gonna lose control, if I’ve been losing you to pay for rock and roll.” They’re lost in Hollywood, not just the actual place but the lifestyle that befits every star. I still think that Super Trouper as a song is a more profound piece on the effects of stardom as a whole but this song as well is beautifully written to talk about those themes in maybe not so personal manners. The song really is just a beautiful showcase of the talents that were the Mark 4 lineup of Rainbow and stands in my eyes as one of the finest pieces of music ever created.

Yeah, I’ve probably over exaggerated enough. Once again, I’m very biased here but I’m also speaking with my own tastes and experiences in mind. Despite the constant lineup changes, Blackmore always seems to find the most top-notch musicians and I believe this lineup truly exemplified that. It’s a shame that they couldn’t continue on but at least we got this album as a glorious reminder of what 5 musicians can do with enough talent and probably alcohol.

Also, the hallmark of all live performances: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I5VPzJlUKVc

#rainbow #rainbow band #ritchie blackmore #cozy powell #don airey #roger glover #graham bonnet #well it's not july 28th anymore #i love this lineup dearly #graham is my ichibansan #look forward to the 28 page thesis on why graham bonnet was the best rainbow vocalist up next

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bearseokie · 4 years ago

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dear readers and writers

— a little advice i wish i would have heard before i started this blog and writing in general. sorry i’m that writer that makes post like these, i just want you to understand that things like this change everything. if this looks like a lot, just find the ones that pertain to you.

writers

➤ 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝

there are so many good works that come from you focusing on the genres you are most comfortable with, and only writing those is not a bad thing. it’s not a “you’re not growing as a writer” situation, it’s a comfort zone situation. just because smuts do well doesn’t mean you have to force yourself to write them. just because angsts come in bulk because you can never ignore the emotional bits of writing doesn’t mean that has to be the main focus of every work. just because fluffs are the most reblogged content doesn’t mean it’s the only genre people will enjoy from you. focus on what you love, others will follow!

➤ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐥

if you don’t consistently open your inbox, do it at least once. close it when you feel overwhelmed or at any time you feel necessary. don’t believe that you have to write them all in a short period of time. be statistical about it: only open it for a short game or blurbs. use the requests to fill in blanks or practice writing in different ways. play with the word counts. change up the tone. delete a few, you’re not obligated to actually write them, this is your free time and your work. but sometimes doing requests can change how you write, maybe even give you a breakthrough you wouldn’t have had with writing things from your own mind. and have fun.

➤ 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

filling the warnings up with silly little comments or parts from the story is important, too. even if it’s a paragraph’s worth of potential warnings or triggers, never skip adding them. even if you think it’s something not worth mentioning, it will be to someone. add as many as necessary.

➤ ��𝟎𝟎 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝟏𝟎,𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞

word counts don’t determine how good of a writer you are. from brilliant blurbs with two paragraphs and one line of dialogue, drabbles with less than a thousand words, or full on double digits fics: what counts is that you enjoyed writing it. it made you excited. you paused just to mention to a friend how much you love writing it. you got chills piecing together that one line. that energy gets put through your work and into your reader, seriously.

➤ 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭?

everyone reads. anything. everything. you name it, one person’s read it. whether your confidence in your writing ability is low or not, the process will only benefit you. and you get to spend time writing about some of your favorite people/characters, it’s a win-win. it’s no competition, only a fun time that you get to create and share with the world. try it.

➤ 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

the more detail, the better the mental picture. if you read something and love visualizing every scene, hearing every line, then you should work for the same within your stories. close your eyes and put your scene into your surroundings, every little detail counts. and although i said word counts don’t mean anything, if your brain does focus on you having large word counts (it happens to every writer, big word counts make you feel cool for writing so much), then this is a sexy step to use because it heightens that number pretty quickly.

short sentences look weird, but are better than run-ons.

vocabulary is sexy and thesaurus dot com is your best friend. need a word but can only think of something similar, you’ll find it there. used the same word three times now and think you’re starting to look insane, you are, use your sources.

you don’t need a banner or aesthetics for everything you write. the writing does all of the work itself. don’t stress about the accessories.

burnt out on writing the same thing / can’t think of what else to put down? break time. take a tangent, write something else, cut it off there (maybe post it) and leave the rest for the future, the cliffhanger or abrupt ending will have everyone on the edge of their seats. you’re still doing well.

if you’re writing to gain a following or have extensive amounts of notes to brag about, you’re into writing fanfics for the wrong reasons. hoping for feedback is one thing, feasting for it as your only source of inspiration for writing is just hurting yourself and other writers in the long run. write for yourself and no one else.

writer’s block? hell if i know, i’ve had it since before i started writing.

readers

➤ 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐛𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤

a little feedback goes a mile. a simple emoji as a reaction, keyboard smashes, even tagging topical things can make a fanfic writer smile.

but long paragraphs also go a long way. imagine watching a movie you love to bits, so much so that you go online and read reviews of it. that commentary can shift the way you look at the movie forever, and stick with you during other films. it’s the same with receiving and reading feedback on fanfics. I’m not saying go crazy critical with your feedback, do not do that unless the writer says they want criticism, but maybe writing why you love one particular line so much could change the way the writer feels about the entire work or make a reader begin to love the same line so much that they quote it or recommend it. it makes a difference!

➤ 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬?

tell the writer. this isn’t an “i wrote this and it mentions all of these other things, so you should have expected this” game. if it bothered you, it will probably bother someone else, and that needs to be told to the writer. i don’t know what to tell you if a writer writes back being degrading or negative about your concern for that warning, but i promise you that most writers will not argue with whether it should be a warning or not and will just add it. do not be scared to mention something that triggered you if it was not mentioned in the warnings. also, please remember writers are humans and cannot think of everything all the time. we might miss one or two warnings within the work when writing the description, so please tell us.

➤ “𝐈 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠.”

pain. straight pain. your reblog shares that post with your followers. you like it, why wouldn’t they? that reblog stays on your page, it’ll be seen. the tags you put in could help others find more works on your blog, essentially helping more works be found. maybe they’re old and haven’t seen the light of the recent tags in months, but your reblog could help more people still see it, and that makes a difference. we all have those lazy moments where we don’t want to do all of the steps, but even doing them sometimes helps.

➤ 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐜 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞?

readers can scroll through the list for their preferences, find new writers that amaze them, maybe they gain the courage to put together their own fic recs list. all of those recommended fics are still floating around and being shared, they don’t get lost in the tags or the writer’s masterlists. you find/make a recs list: congratulations, you’re contributing to helping fanfics thrive (as they deserve). also, who doesn’t love an entire list right in front of them so they don’t have to go on a scavenger hunt to find new things to read? answer: no one.

➤ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐥𝐞?

tags to organize, fics to go through/find/read, oh my. let me let you in on a little secret:

have you ever had that moment where you suddenly remember one line or scene from a fic you read months ago, and you have the vaguest details to go off of in order to search and find it? your fics recs blog would have you covered, just scroll through the feed or the tags and boom, it’s at your fingertips.

now imagine someone else looking for more fics to read stumbling upon your blog. might look a little strange and coded to them, but eventually they navigate and find a new fic they’ll be talking about for months. they reblog it, add their own feedback, their followers see it and join in, and that writer feels immensely appreciated all because you started a recs blog and just-so-happened to reblog their fic. tah dah.

➤ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐩?

well, so did i. i asked my followers on this blog and my recs blog to send in their favorite fics with some extra details and feedback thinking i wouldn’t get anything, but i got an entire list! guess what’s even better? that list went straight into the tags (thanks to tumblr working properly for once) and now anyone that searches up ‘kpop fic recs’ can find it at any time. same goes for your own. there’s no specific way of organizing a recs list, just make sure the links work and the writers are credited! it helps.

read more! it’s a vast world in your hands, enjoy the words that go along with it.

sorry for this technical rant/advice post, this has just been in me for a while and i wanted to talk about it. I might add more to this as things come up, but for now i hope this helps! <3

#bearseokie.txt #this is a lot but hey it's a silly dawn rant again #i hope this gets through to anyone having a hard time writing right now #and to the ghost readers bc we still know you're there bro #take care of yourself !#bearseokie navigation #writing.tips!

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