#so i just hope that these sentences in this order make some vague sense

[lovelesswiki]

sometimes i joke about how loveless could be easily ended by just handing soubi a gun and whatever he chooses to do with it would end loveless (yes, morbid sorry), but i do legitimately think that one of the most frustrating parts of where loveless 'ended' is that it's pretty clear from the results of the battle that there is a massive stalemate between the ritsuka-soubi-seimei where everything feels like a powder keg that's an instant or two away from blowing.

i think a lot of that comes from soubi, who actually holds a lot of the power here but none of the ability to utilize it. loveless can't go on without soubi, but it could go on without either ritsuka or seimei (likely not with both of them unless someone could talk soubi down from a very literal ledge). ritsuka has no fighter and cannot do anything on his own other than make the choice to return to goura, which is pretty much the only option in this case other than not doing anything.

seimei's case is even more interesting. i don't recall if his motivations are really gone into (hello i am very slowly rereading ill get there eventually (whenever my job stops killing me)) but my theory has always been that he took soubi back because he didn't think nisei was up to beating moonless alone but knew 1. that soubi could, and 2. not winning would halt everything. and he was right on both counts. nisei lost, soubi won, and seimei was only able to get away because soubi was there at all.

that gives us this weird little triangle of a lingering stalemate threatening to blow up. seimei's plans now hinge on soubi. he might not be utilized for all of it, but seimei seems to be well aware that he needs soubi and nisei won't cut it for what he needs. ritsuka needs soubi to do anything tangible about seimei. he's essentially needed by everyone in this situation. technically, seimei can't do much without him (since nisei seems to be incapacitated post moonless battle) and ritsuka can't do anything without him other than try to talk things through. this isn't stated directly iirc, but i think seimei is also balancing on a very fine point of ritsuka completely giving up on him ever being his brother again, and i think more than anything seimei is aware of that and is instead waiting for ritsuka to make the first move.

i think it's interesting how much of this power rests with soubi and also how much of whatever seimei's plan is relies on soubi being too depressed/out of it or too obedient to realize that he has power in this situation. any move he could make has the potential to actually end loveless, whereas both ritsuka and seimei are relying on him to either stay obedient or make up his mind/do something. if soubi defies and goes with ritsuka, seimei doesn't have the firepower to win and thus, the story wraps up. if he stays with seimei, seimei's plan goes through and seimei wins, story wraps up. if soubi takes himself out of the game in some way, then neither ritsuka or seimei win and the story wraps up because it's now a no-win situation.

loveless ends up with this three way powder keg set up and ready to blow and honestly if i think about this any longer i'm just going to get sad again that we're still resolutionless... endless, even.

[themultifanshipper]

Who knew practicing your makeup skills on Lando and Oscar would lead to this.

Vaguely based on the time I did my ex's makeup and we got unbearably horny because of it

Warnings: filth, absolute filth, smut, threesome, spit, PinV sex, PinA sex, double penetration, the inherent eroticism of doing someone's makeup, the inherent eroticism of landoscar in the same room, Landoscar being kinky little fuckers. I'd say pwp but tbh the plot is like 3 sentences.

You'd spent two years being a makeup artist on the formula 1 media team. Which was great, it payed well, you'd made some great friends, you traveled all over the place. It was a lot of people's dream job, really.

But you had to admit you were getting bored of covering zits and five o’clock shadows all the time (and hickeys but shhhhhh) and you were hoping for a bit of a change of routine.

That change came in the form of an offer to become the official f1 Academy makeup artist.

Sure it wasn't exactly Cirque du Soleil but at least you'd get to do a bit more than just pandering to male egos.

So before the end of the season, you thought you'd get a bit of practice in by doing some of your friends makeup.

The problem was the only friends you had access to while traveling were formula one drivers, or in other words, men.

So you roped your two best friends in the paddock Lando and Oscar into letting you do their makeup one afternoon, in the comfort of their motorhome bathroom, where the lighting was best, and the presence of a sink was convenient.

You grabbed a chair from the other room, which happened to be quite large, so it took up most of the space in the bathroom.

You did Oscar's eyes first, that way you could alternate between the two so they wouldn't have to stay still for too long.

You instructed Oscar to close his eyes, then you stepped closer, shaking the tube to get the liquid flowing.

Having Oscar under you, so pliant and at your mercy with his eyes closed sent a shiver up your spine and you hesitated for a second, you mind conjuring up other scenarios where you two could be in this position. Then you quickly came to your senses and eagerly applied the black liquid in a sharp wing.

The angle was a bit weird but you got through it, and when he opened his eyes to look at you, your breath caught in your throat. He was beautiful. Not in a particularly feminine way but it really fucking suited him, it made his deep brown eyes stand out. You were almost jealous.

Then it was Lando's turn. They swapped places, Lando settling on the chair while Oscar sat on the floor.

You uncapped the lid and went to start Lando's liner, but the angle was even worse due to their slight height difference.

You huffed. “Hang on I need to get closer, this is killing my wrist.” You thought for a second. “Can I sit on your lap? I promise it'll be quick”

Lando’s eyes widened a fraction but he nodded and you straddled his thighs, your legs on either side of his.

Plot twist, it was not quick. He couldn't keep still long enough and you kept having to stop to let him scratch his nose, beard, neck, etc…

You got a bit frustrated at his fidgeting so you grabbed his jaw, perhaps a bit harder than intended, and held him in place.

“Stop moving!” you ordered, and he became weirdly stock still suddenly.

In your concentration you didn't notice how close your face had gotten to his, and how his pupils dilated more and more, the closer you got.

You shifted on his lap as you tried to get the right angle to do the last part, but you must have hurt him because he gasped and scrunched his eyebrows together as his hands flew to your hips to stop you from moving.

“Shit, you ok? Did I hurt you?”

“Nope, no it's fine just…” he exhaled shakily “just don't move around too much” he gulped as he avoided eye contact. His breathing had picked up a bit and you didn't want to make him any more uncomfortable so you hurried the rest. But you had to admit, sitting on Lando's lap with his hands squeezing your hips was making you hot, and slightly dizzy.

Oscar was looking curiously at the interaction from the floor, eyes darting from your faces only a few inches apart, to where Lando’s leg was starting to twitch, to his hands on the meat of your hips, to the way your fingers were digging into his jaw to keep him still.

You managed to finish quickly, and as you got off him you noticed the mirror was starting to steam up a little bit. What you didn't see was the way Lando adjusted his pants before getting up to let Oscar have his turn.

“Holy shit, mate. It looks really good on you” Oscar was almost in awe as he got up, now slightly higher than eye level with Lando.

The two of them sort of stood there looking at each other’s eyes with an intensity you'd never seen in them before, then seemingly remembered where they were before clearing their throats and shuffling around awkwardly to switch places.

"You wanna..."

"Yeah, thanks"

You took the lipstick out of your bag, applying a bit to a brush before grabbing Oscar's jaw the same way you had Lando’s, and tilting his face upwards. His hand naturally came to rest on your waist as you sat down on him, you didn't mind. He swallowed and the movement of his adam's apple caught your eye.

“You okay?” you whispered, looking into his eyes from above.

“Yeah” he replied, the deafening silence that followed almost overwhelmed you so you quickly started swiping the brush over his bottom lip.

You took the liberty of using your thumb to wipe some excess off, and it grazed Oscar's tongue.

He gasped and you swore, about to apologise, but when you looked at his eyes you were shocked to find them closed, as Oscar opened his mouth just a fraction more, inviting.

When you didn't say anything or move for several seconds, he looked up at you through lidded eyes and you understood. He was turned on.

You didn't dare move. You glanced at his lips then back up to his eyes and he did the same.

“Oscar…” You breathed out, barely even loud enough to be considered a whisper.

In guise of a response, he pressed your hips down and rolled his upwards, and the groan he let out was almost akin to whimper. He was so hard you could feel him through all the layers.

You chanced a glance down to where Lando was sitting and the look that met yours was overwhelming. He looked like a siren, painted eyes also lidded as he looked at you and Oscar, mouth hanging half open as his hand palmed his obvious erection through his joggers.

“You two are so fucking hot” he whispered, and you looked back at the man you were currently grinding on. Oscar looked so fucked out you might have blacked out for a second, dropping the makeup brush on the counter and grabbing Oscar by the hair to pull his head back ever further, exposing his neck. You trailed kisses along his jaw before settling below his ear to bite at it lightly.

“You want to fuck me, Osc? Give this little freak a show, huh?” You ground your hips down harder and he groaned out a curse at the ceiling before sliding a hand around your neck to close the gap between you.

His lips were slippery thanks to the half-applied lipstick, but he made up for it by sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and your hips stuttered against his as you felt Lando's hands start to work at your clothes…

You weren't sure when the plan changed, but you found yourself riding Lando instead of Oscar on the chair, while Oscar guided your hips at a leisurely pace as he sloppily made out with Lando over your shoulder.

You haven't truly lived until you've witnessed that.

Suddenly Oscar had a thought and slowed your hips down to a slow grind. You were sweaty and your legs were aching so you were thankful for the break.

“Can you take us both?” Oscar asked.

You and Lando froze. You frowned at each other.

“What?”

“Do you think” he started, trailing sloppy kisses down your back, hands going lower and lower. “you can take us both?”

“As in…?” you trailed off as he got to the dip in your lower back.

“As in both of us…” his hands came down to spread your ass as he kissed the end of your tail bone. “… at the same time.” His thumb stroked over your rim and you shuddered in Lando's embrace.

“I've never done that before” but you could feel yourself getting wetter at the prospect.

“Do you want to try it?” Oscar asked, still level with where you and Lando were joined.

You didn't take much convincing, and as soon as he had your consent, Oscar surged forward and licked a stripe from where you were split open by Lando, up to where his last kiss had landed.

You moaned as he spread you open and and spat straight onto your puckered hole, watching his spit slide down your skin to Lando's cock inside you. Lando swore as you tightened around him and pulled out so that he wouldn't come too soon. You took the opportunity to arch your back, presenting yourself to Oscar as Lando stroked your hair and kissed you sweetly.

Oscar wasted no time, he dived in with expert precision, stretching you out with his tongue, then a finger, then two, dipping them in your cunt first to get them nice and wet.

Soon enough you were panting into Lando's chest and dripping over his thighs, overwhelmed by the new sensations taking over your body. When Oscar got to four fingers he pulled out and gave your ass a quick spank before dipping his cock into your wet folds once.

When his tip breached your rim, he stopped to let you adjust for a second, before continuing to slide into you slowly.

The drag of his cock inside you was unlike anything you'd ever felt before, and you felt like you were going to come any second, just from that.

Lando chose that moment to slide back into you, slightly less on the edge than before, but as soon as he was fully inside and nudged your g-spot you came with a shout as your body clamped down on the two cocks inside of you. The feeling so intense you swore you could see colours burst beneath your eyelids as the waves crashed over you and wetness dripped between the three of you.

Oscar groaned as he realised you were squirting, probably also for the first time.

Lando couldn't help himself, his hips moved of their own accord as he chased his high, and the stream just kept flowing as Oscar followed his lead, both men incredibly close to orgasm themselves.

The feeling of the two of them filling you up with their cum was peculiar but indescribably erotic as you came down from your high with them.

Turns out the worst part of aftercare with Lando and Oscar, was having to instruct them on how to remove their (now slightly smudged) makeup.

Your legs were too unstable to move so you barked orders at them in the bathroom until they were done. Then they came to bed and lay on either side of you, hands wandering over each others bodies as the three of you drifted into bliss

Looks like your days of covering hickeys weren't quite finished yet.

[ok555ficideas]

Part of the next chapter of "We made these memories for ourselves" a buddie slow burn amnesia fic

Buck was looking around his loft and tried to take everything in. Maybe if he thought really hard, some memories would start reappearing. He started with the kitchen. It was the closest and he remembered Bobby telling him that he was a good cook. Supposedly, he was once terrible until the captain took pity on him and took him under his wing. He vaguely remembered his friends mentioning something about a break up induced baking spree, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember the name of the person who caused it, even though he was sure someone had told him that already. 

He went into the kitchen and stopped at the fridge. There was a picture of Maddie and Chim at their wedding. He made a mental note to ask them why it was taken at a hospital. 

“We should get an Uber.” 

A faint memory shot through him like lightning. It was nothing more than a sentence and one that made absolutely no sense. He chose to not focus on it. It wasn’t the first time something insignificant entered his brain for a second. The doctor said it was a good sign and that soon enough he should start getting back something more concrete.   

He looked back at the fridge and smiled at the sight of a drawing. He didn’t see his niece yet because he didn't want her to see him in a hospital, but he saw millions of pictures and heard even more stories, so he felt like he knew her. The fact that he had her drawing on his fridge made warmth spread all across his chest. 

He let his eyes trace over the surface in front of him and something felt off. The things that hang there were in a weird order. There were random empty spaces. It looked like there was supposed to be something there, but someone took it off and forgot to rearrange the rest to look normal. Buck tried to think of what it could be, but the more he tried the more tired he became. 

He gave up and decided to look into it more later. He made his way to the couch, because he didn't think he was strong enough to climb up the stairs. He sat down and immediately groaned in discomfort. It was the shittiest couch he has ever sat on, even though he didn’t remember sitting on any couches. But he was sure this one was the worst. 

There was no way he would get any rest. His back was aching and his legs threatened to give out under him, but he had no choice but to go up to the loft. He had nowhere else to go. 

“Please, don’t ask me how I am.” 

He shook the useless memory away and climbed up with a speed he wasn’t proud of. He finally made his way all the way up after what felt like hours. He wanted to immediately collapse onto the bed, but since he made it this far, he might as well do this properly. He spotted the closet to his left and slowly walked towards it. 

He opened the door and began his search for something to sleep in. The first drawer he opened was empty, the one directly below it was empty as well. He would shrug it off and think that he might just not have that many clothes if not for the fact that when he opened the next one, the clothes spilled out because there was not enough room for them. 

Why would he have two empty drawers if not all of his clothes comfortably fit in the other ones? He added it to the list of the things that didn’t make sense and put it in the back of his mind for later. There was no use in focusing on it now and something told him there was no use in asking anyone about it either. He briefly wondered if this had anything to do with Eddie, but quickly tossed away that thought. 

Eddie was a coworker, nothing else. It was made abundantly clear to him and he had to stop hoping for any other answer. Maybe he had an unrequited crush on him when he had all his memories. It wouldn’t be surprising. Eddie was the most beautiful man Buck has ever laid his eyes on. If that were the case, maybe it was better that he didn’t remember.

[mohgreal]

Mr Greal I need to rant about a SOTE thing I was thinking about last night. Fucking. Why not make it so that Mohg and Miquella were collaborating and both had a genuine, shared view of how to change the world? They both want the best for the disenfranchised races of the Lands Between, right? Miquella has the metamorphosing Albinaurics in the Haligtree, Mohg has his little red Mohglets, stuff like that.

Wouldn’t it be interesting if Blood For The Blood God Big Boy Mohg was who Miquella deemed the most kind or worthy or whatever of the demigods? Raaaaagh I’m just so mad how SOTE bulldozed over these two characters and sapped out anything interesting about them.

cw: me being annoying, (long) sote ranting because this fandom hates me for hating but that never stopped me, if you take this seriously its on you sorry . for some reason i get people feel offended by me openly expressing how i feel about some dlc so im still putting this here You Were Warned ....mr greal will add his personal comments .....

tumblr keeps fucking up my keep readinf STOP im sorry

this is my biggest gripe with sote is how boring they made the existing lore. not even 'bad', just very very boring. it's like i got the most boring reddit fanfiction as canon, which sucks because all the new stuff IS interesting. expect now i don't even care because they sucked the interest i had for the lore by doing so. they could've made radahn more interesting by giving him more lore that isn't just "i love war, golden order, and horsey!". they could've gave mohg more lore and depth. they could've made miquella more interesting and a genuinely new and fresh character with hope for once in a game where it's all bleak and misery.

but they didn't. why.

i don't get it and i never will. im convinced they had a different, or possibly worse — multiple teams work on sote because the way the entire dlc is structured, especially the lore and missing elements (no cutscenes for main bosses or black and white art desc) — really screams too many chefs working on one game (dlc). nightreign existing proves my prior theory ive had since sote came out day one

miquella is, to me, the most boring possible route they could've gone. if you believed the charming theory then it was also predictable for like two years so it's not even as shellshocking as the narrative makes it, because the game expects you (in the sense that based off the existing lore you would have the idea that miquella is morally gray) to know this. the issue is that the only real lore really pointing toward miquella being a charm guy is the bewitching branch. two sentences. you're supposed to get that miquella was Bad All Along because of [one] item description. why micheal zaki???? and yes you could say the other item descs hinted at it, but that's all it is, hinting. its vague and you could easily understand it as miquella being the true goodie people in game think he is.

as for the extreme devotion, i don't see how it's supposed to be seen as bad if you didn't know miquella was a charmer when it makes sense for the lands between to cling to the only piece of hope there is. like i would be worshipping him too when he's supposedly the only real kind demigod trying to make a change??? is this just micheal zaki and georgey marty's way of telling us life is miserable and dont trust incestous blondes? ive seen people defend this by saying its a design choice so the player can feel like miquella is good, then get betrayed like his followers so you can feel it too. but this doesn't work because you would have to be attached or at least like miquella which is basically impossible (unless you were a tumblr miquella stan feeding off dust and scraps) since you haven't meet him?? how can i be betrayed by someone whom i haven't even met? miquella is just childish griffith (im sorry to say that name) marika-ranni morally gray "you tried" badge lumped into one and i really miss how interesting he was before his own dlc. not to mention he only shows up piggybacking on his now boyfriend-brother for like one minute; and that's all he gets in his own dlc . if he was at least his own boss instead of lothric-lorian copy pasted but worse i wouldn't be nearly as disappointed

radahn is still boring to me, which he was before as well, his personlity is basically just the modern irl gymbro to me, which is to say i can't see him without his gym (in radahn's case, war or the golden order)

and mohg getting used as a body bag is so unneeded and just feels forced. i didn't even feel sad. the mohgreal (mr greal as called in the ask™️) didn't get sad at mohg being basically used even beyond death. because it didn't need to happen. you could say that's what makes it tragic, but to me it's just a cheap way of forcing radahn back. radahn's soul isn't what makes him powerful, his powers and body is. so just use mohg instead, miquella already had him charmed, did he not?? radahn's soul isn't going to make mohg magically radahn — except oh wait it magically makes mohg radahn all of a sudden even though that's not how it works!!! we literally saw ranni do this exact same thing (just with her own soul) yet radahn is a magic exception??? this is a blatant retcon and people who pretend sote doesn't have retcons feel like they're gaslighting me because this is just one of a few examples of contradicting lore sote gives you. even if you could magically give me a pile of reason to fill the plotholes, it still feels sour because i never needed to do this in the base game

TLDR: sote made me not care about elden ring, and im now back to being a horror addict im sorry. everyone is allowed to rant to me im very bored

[mylordshesacactus]

Tag Game - Writing Patterns

List the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern.

1.Smoke and the sharp tang of blood drifted over Teldrassil. (Reunification, Warcraft)

2. It was a nameless backwater moon in a nameless backwater system, and Ahsoka had never wanted to be anywhere less in her life. (Riposte, Star Wars)

3. Padawan learner Barriss Offee scuffed her heel idly against the duracrete. (When These Moments Have Passed, Star Wars/Fox and the Hound fusion)

4. “Going somewhere, Lady Crowley?” (Shadows and Goldclover, Warcraft, E)

5. It’s a good place for an ambush. (some desperate small creature, Warcraft)

6. Sunrise on Rannoch was—Tali’s chest constricted painfully. (Housewarming, Mass Effect)

7. “Again,” the instructor ordered, voice crisp. (Quicksilver, BG3)

8. The world grows quiet. And their time grows short. (Truesilver, BG3)

9. A boy dreams of a wolf’s whelp. (an unkindness of ravens, Assassin's Creed: Valhalla)

10. FOREWORD (By Miranda Lawson) | In 2196, a young asari named Ashethe Matolis was granted asylum by the Alliance. (257 Years Of Unanswered Correspondence With An Ardat-Yakshi Monastery, Mass Effect)

-

I think the most prominent pattern here is that I definitely have a strong preference for opening "with two feet down", as my high school mentor and creative-writing teacher put it. Not necessarily in medias res, though I do love doing that--but immediately grounded, placing the reader IN the scene from the first sentence.

As such a lot of these involve sensory details, an immediate touchstone for the character's physical location or surroundings, or both. The worst thing you can do for immersion is have your reader spend several hundred words either unable to picture the characters in context, or THINKING they're picturing the context correctly and then out of the blue dropping that they're actually somewhere completely different.

(Unless you're deliberately misleading the reader in order to deliver a punchline, obviously, but I think that should go without saying.)

I also tend to make my opening lines direct and to the point, and rarely open a fic with a full paragraph. In order to give the reader that sense of standing on solid ground--essentially of "landing with two feet down," falling into the fic and looking around to see where they are--you gotta give that opening line a little room to breathe.

The only exceptions on this list are 4, 9, and 10, and honestly, only 9 really counts!

-> The structure of 257 Years is an epistolary fic, so it actually IS serving as that immediate sensory grounding--It's establishing from the very beginning the sense that you are, in-universe, picking up a book and opening it to the front page.

-> Shadows & Goldclover is my fun little Tess/Lorna porn, and the setup is in fact that Tess is startling her in the garden. So the initial brief disorientation (I do immediately give some setting details in the next paragraph) is exactly the sensory experience I want my readers to have, it puts them in the same headspace as Lorna

-> Unkindness Of Ravens is, genuinely, one of the best stories I've ever written and I hope people are willing to give it a chance even if they're not really asscreed people--it stands on its own just fine as an exploration of fictional Norse queerness. And in that case, the deliberate sense of....an unmoored, vague, disoriented lack of any solid physical setting, is exactly what I was going for! It's a prophetic vision; it should feel otherworldly. I deliberately avoid giving the reader ANY solid ground until after the scenebreak..at which point they are IMMEDIATELY given sensory details and a place name, because the whole thematic point of the fic is Valka being brought in from the cold and finding acceptance, security, and a place to belong.

[hischierswhore]

drunk calls

pairing: Christian Pulisic x Reader

TW: mentions of alcohol // drinking // mentions of a breakup

Your break up with Christian, your boyfriend of 2 years, definitely took a toll on you. You isolated yourself from the outside world, preferring to stay in the comfort of your home, not wanting to risk being hurt again. You found yourself thinking about him, even after a month. In fact, you've only been able to think about him since the moment he walked out the front door of your apartment.

And that brings us here: you're sitting in bed, staring blankly at your laptop as your mind drifts back to when you last saw his gorgeous smile...and wondering how in the hell things got so screwed up between the two of you.

When did everything go wrong? How could it be possible for you and the love of your life to become nothing more than strangers after everything you'd been through together?

As you think, the clock ticks away over on the wall, reminding you that it is now almost 2 am. What was supposed to have been an easy evening at home with just a little bit of internet browsing turned into hours spent dwelling on what went wrong between the pair of you.

-

"Y/n, I'm telling you. You need to go out and stop torturing yourself" your friend Sadie says in exasperation as she sits down beside you on your sofa.

"I know it hurts, but you can't live like this forever" For a moment, you let out a pitiful groan, burying your head in your hands, causing your friend to put her arm around you, giving you a comforting hug.

"It just doesn't make any sense. We loved each other" You say as you lift your head to stare directly at your closest confidant, needing to see her face for some sort of reassurance.

"I know you loved him, but he broke your heart, Y/n. There's no going back from that" She replies with her own personal version of sympathy, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear.

"How about we go out tonight?" She suggests quietly, resting her chin upon your shoulder. Her suggestion makes sense; you don't want to sit alone at home while you replay the whole situation again and again in your head.

"We can find a club, get drunk, dance all night long..." She starts, but you don't let her finish her sentence before you're nodding your head in agreement. The very thought of doing something as pointless as drinking until you feel numb seems strangely appealing right now.

"Great idea, come on, lets go!" You both stand up from your seats, making your way to your bedroom to get dressed.

-

As you and Sadie entered the club, you both made a beeline for the bar. Tonight would be a good night to start getting drunk. If you were honest with yourself, you just wanted to forget all about Christian and drown your sorrows in alcohol.

At least, that's what you hoped.

You took your first sip of a dark red wine, savouring the taste and feeling it run smoothly down your throat, before taking another sip. Sadie drank two glasses of wine before calling it a night, stating that she was the designated driver for the pair of you. You, on the other hand, decided to push the envelope a little more, ordering 2 more drinks at the bar, downing them almost immediately.

You couldn't remember the last time you felt this free, having gotten completely hammered on just 3 drinks. At times, the lights seemed to turn on their side, spinning dizzyingly as they circled the room, accompanied by flashing colors of purple, orange and green.

The rest of the night was a blur. You vaguely remember Sadie telling you that she was leaving to go hookup with some dude she met at the bar, abandoning you at the club, drunk and alone.

After another hour, you decided you wanted to leave, so you turned on your phone and scrolled through your contacts and tapped on the one you were most used to calling.

Christian.

"Pick up pick up pick up" You drunkenly mumbled to yourself.

"Y/n???"

"Oh my god, heyyyy. Your voice is like, really hot right now"

"Y/n... you sound drunk...where are you?"

"What do you mean where am I? I'm at a club with Sadie. Duh." You mumbled, before taking a deep breath.

"Well, Sadie left to go get some, but I'm still here. You know, enjoying the vibes" Your speech was slurring as you spoke.

"Y/n, I know you're probably drunk off your ass right now, but please stay right where you are. I'm coming to get you" You sat in silence for a few seconds before realizing he had actually hung up.

-

Less than 5 minutes later, Christian had arrived at the club. He only knew which club you were at because that was the only club you liked going to. He jumped out of his car and raced inside to find you. As he cut through the crowds, he saw you sitting on one of the leather couches. He let out a breath of relief as he approached you.

"Hey sweetheart" His warm voice pulled you from your thoughts of the different colors you saw floating throughout the club. It felt as though you had sobered up almost instantaneously just by hearing his voice.

He pulled you up gently, placing his hands under your armpits and supporting your weight against his chest, carrying you out of the building. As he stepped outside onto the sidewalk, he placed you into the passenger seat. He sat behind the wheel of the car, glancing over at you before beginning his drive.

"Drink this. It'll help" He handed you a bottle of water to help you sober up.

"So what exactly were you doing at a club with Sadie?" He cleared his throat before speaking, leaning forward slightly in his seat to gaze through the windshield.

"Trying to forget" you replied honestly, keeping your eyes focused ahead of you while slowly drinking the water bottle. Christian quickly glanced at you as you answered.

"What were you trying to forget about?" He questioned.

"That's a stupid question" You retorted dryly before you looked at him, unable to read his expression due to your current state.

"You... and us..." You whispered, feeling sorry for yourself. A frown appeared on Christian's lips as he listened to your confession.

"Why did you want to forget about us?"

"Because it hurts too much to think about what we had and then it all suddenly got taken away from me" You buried your head deeper into your lap, wishing you hadn't spoken up. He inhaled deeply through his nose, letting out a shaky exhale before speaking again.

"I don't know why I did it" He added. He heard you sniffle loudly, so he reached over to squeeze your hand reassuringly.

"I know you may hate me, but I do love you. I don't want you to feel like it was anything you did. It was all my fault" He continued softly.

"You don't need to carry around guilt for things that weren't your fault. Don't punish yourself for my stupidity" You nodded, gazing out of the window instead of looking at him. He sighed, rolling his shoulders as he kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead. You had never been so close to tears.

"I hope you know that I don't hate you" You finally found yourself speaking up, your voice shakier than ever. Christian turned his head to face you.

"I couldn't possibly hate you, Chris. I love you too much to do that" You whispered before turning to meet his eyes. He smiled sadly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you towards him.

-

Once he had driven to your house, he helped guide you out of the car and up to your front door. You handed him the key, allowing Christian to turn the lock and open the door before guiding you inside. He led you upstairs, opening your bedroom door and leading you to your bed.

"I'll go grab you some make-up wipes. You just uh... stay here and get changed into something comfy" He whispered as he disappeared into your bathroom.

While he was gone, you took advantage of the opportunity and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a random hoodie. Moments later, Christian walks back in with a pack of wipes in hand. He freezes as the sight of you.

"Is that my hoodie?" His question causes you to look down and take a look at what you were wearing. It was indeed his hoodie.

"Oh, yeah I guess it is. Do you want it back-" You asked but were cut off mid-sentence.

"No, keep it. It looks better on you anyways" He gave you a soft smile before removing one makeup wipe from the package and wiping it across your face.

"Thank you" You murmured as you watched him put away the unused ones. An awkward tension filled the room as you both sat in silence.

"Did you really mean it? When you said you still love me?" You questioned the man in front of you.

"I wouldn't lie about that, Y/n. I don't think I'll ever love anyone as much as I love you. Even though I'm an absolute idiot, I want to make us work" He admitted.

"Then how about we give it another try?" You stated firmly.

"I'd really like that" He smiled at you, before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as he made his way to the exit.

"Chris" You shouted in attempt to grab his attention. He turned around at the mention of his name.

"Stay with me, please" You gave him a look and he knew he wouldn't be able to say no to you. Having already been in a pair of sweatpants, Christian slid into bed next to you, initially keeping himself at a far enough distance to not make you uncomfortable, but you pulled him closer to you anyways.

You laid in his arms as you began to feel yourself fall into a deep slumber, his hands slowly rubbing your back.

"I love you, princess" was all that could be heard as you were finally fell asleep in Christian's arms once again.

-

TAGLIST

@ithinkimokeei @myheartgoesvroom @mounthings @tall-tanned-tattoo @itsnotgray @alwaysclassyeagle @charlewiss @pianoisland @chelseagirl98 @lovelynikol16 @username-envy

[smaller-comfort]

8 and 26!

8. Best summary

I love thinking about summaries- how do you distill the essence of a story down to a soundbyte? Well, when you're allergic to summaries that are more than 2 sentences long, the key is to be as cryptic and unhelpful as possible. With ao3's tags, the summary doesn't need to be the laundry list of pairings and other relevant details; the summary is just a little icing on top to entice the reader. It's totally valid to just skip the summary entirely, although I'll probably never be brave enough to do that.

Right now I really enjoy Save Scumming's summary:

Resh'an can't help clinging to the hope that maybe this time, everything will turn out better than before.

He should really know better by now.

Cryptic and unhelpful, but juuuust ominous enough that when combined with the tags, you have some idea of what you're in for. And I provide an actual descriptive summary in the beginning notes on the first chapter, so I can get away with being vague.

I always feel like quoting a passage from the story itself is a cop-out, but I do it sometimes anyway. The trick is to pick a line that makes no sense out of context in order to lure readers in with a sense of confusion. (Do not take advice from me about writing summaries.) Another favorite summary where I do this is from a drabble I wrote a very, very long time ago. It isn't even a full sentence: "from one dead man to another."

Completely unhelpful! If I were to republish that story, I'd probably expand the summary a little bit, but it's very much in the style of artsy fanfic summaries that were popular back then. It's interesting to see the way those conventions have changed over time.

26. Fic I'm proud of

I actually reread that drabble with the cryptic dangling clause summary, and I was overwrought and pretentious at 18, but honestly, it's not bad. It's not technically the oldest fanfic I ever posted online, but it's the oldest thing that has survived, and that means something. (I'm still not linking to my old ff.net account, though. *shrug emoji*)

[ddarker-dreams]

This isn't necessarily a question related to your lore, so feel free to ignore it! Or, if you do answer it, feel free to give some random lore as well. Or not!

I struggle with writing the hook and/or opening as a whole with any story I write, to the point that it has stopped me from finishing or even attempting to write some of my fanfic ideas.

Do you do anything special when you're writing the beginning of one of your stories, or just any tips to share in general regarding how you start your stories?

Thank you so much!

oh i absolutely get what you mean hjrntkmegr i used to struggle with this a lot, especially since i think it's hammered into our heads that our first sentence needs to be like. noble prize worthy. while i definitely don't want to downplay the importance of an interesting hook, i feel what helped me was using a placeholder and coming back to it later. i tend to write my stories in chronological order since that's just the flow i do the best with, so whenever i encounter an area that's giving me particular difficulty/frustrating me, i make a vague note of what i want then come back later.

another concept that's helped me is thinking of the first sentence/paragraph as a way to set the tones and themes of a story. in my humble opinion, i don't think it always needs to be super flashy.

one of my favorite openings in literature is the first paragraph from the haunting of hill house by shirley jackson:

No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.

while there's a lot to love about this introduction, what stands out to me in particular is how it perfectly establishes the tone for the rest of the novel. since you're the author of your work, there's no one better suited to lay out the themes you'll be expanding on than you. i'm not sure of that makes sense but . i mean it as in you're already capable of capturing the feeling you're going for, no matter how you decide to do so.

and this is just one of many methods! sometimes stories start with exposition, a line of dialogue that leads into a conversation, etc etc. if there's anything you takeaway from this, it's that you can experiment and play around with many different possibilities. i had to reframe how i look at writing the start of a story because of how much i used to go 😬 about it. when i looked at it as something i can play around with, i went from dreading to enjoying it.

anyway, i hope this helps, and as always whenever i try to give 'writing advice' (i feel pretentious calling it that because i am a silly little fanfic writer on tungle.com), so please take everything with a grain of salt.

[rayclubs]

Hey I was just wondering, so you have any tips for pacing when you’re writing your fics? I only ask because I’m having a bit of trouble with it at the moment, and you never seem to linger too long or gloss over things too quickly in yours. Anyway that’s all, hope you’re having a great day!

Yeah! I mean, I'm sure as hell no expert on pacing, god knows I struggle with it A LOT, but I feel like I've learned some things over the years that I can share, and then maybe it'll help somebody!

The advice I've seen a lot in variations is "always have everything planned". Every scene has to make sense. Every bit has to contribute. Every line needs to be important. Always have an ending in mind. Yadda yadda yadda. Well, I'm some type of neurodivergent and I really can't do that at all, I rarely have any more than a setup, a bit in the middle, and a vague idea of a fade-out 90s song ending - if not less.

The way I go around this is: if you don't know how to write a scene, don't write it.

Characters are at Point A, but I need them to travel to Point B. The scene of them traveling is a goddamn pain in the ass. How do I write it? I don't. I say "At Point B, they-" and continue the story.

Another good trick is to remember that you are writing in a non-linear space, meaning you can skip over things and then come back.

Sometimes when two things don't work one after the other, I swap them and see what happens. Sometimes I combine them - like, in the last chapter of Blank Slate, I was supposed to write Heavy meet Pyro, the Scout, but I thought Pyro and Scout at the same time would be more exciting. Dunno if it worked as intended, but I like it better.

Setup and payoff is also good. When you introduce something - that's setup. When that thing resolves - that's payoff. Thespace between them is like a circle, the setup and payoff are giving your text a li'l hug. For a good example of this see my fic Close Call, it's packed with these. For a simpler example see Speak Up, it's got like three or four circle, like a matreshka. I can do a detailed breakdown sometime but it feels kind of obnoxious, I'm a bit, uh, shy about my writing.

Another thing I love is using sentence length to communicate scene energy. Short sentences for action, long structures for instrospection. Long to short for sudden stops and accents, short to long for scene transitions and timeskips. Also, intersperse long dialogues with action blocks to create smaller sections with more contained dialogue topics that are easier to follow.

Cutting useless dialogue is always good. I like to say a line is no good if you can't tell who's saying it without a dialogue tag, but you can't always follow that rule. Still. Good to keep in your head.

Dialogue order, too! If Character A and Character B are talking, and A is saying a line in Paragraph 1, A's next line will be on Paragraph 3. If you have A's line on 1, B's line on 2, action on 3 - well, you can't put A's on 4, you need another action on 4 so A lands on 5. I hope this makes sense. If it doesn't, let me know and I'll go more in detail. I try to always follow this rule, at least within one scene, sometimes across scenes - it really helps cutting out unnecessary dialogue tags that clutter the text.

I think I do this thing where I overexplain everything. Honestly still not sure if the dialogue between Spy and Sniper near the end of Close Call was obvious to everybody or so obscured in round-about hints that nobody got it. But it's fine! Generally I think you want to have your audience figure some things out, I think. Not restate the same clever plot point many times beause you fear people won't get it. Just say it once and pray to god. It takes some major balls tho, if I'm being fully honest.

This is getting long so I'm gonna close with: write what you're excited to write! If you're not excited about writing a scene, don't think "How am I going to write this?", think "How am I going to avoid writing this?". Kill the first draft servant in your brain, it's only malicious non-compliance from here onward.

[forabeatofadrum]

Thank you for the tag @martsonmars. Happy 10th birthday to Check, Please!

Y’all know what time it is, right? That’s right, it’s Thesis Wednesday!

Last week, I shared the opening of my conclusion and it is, in Peach’s language, a dogshit chapter. I know. I said it myself. (Or actually, I meme’d it myself.)

After talking with my thesis advisor, I have some extra confidence. I mean, I am pretty confident about my results chapter. That one is no longer dogshit. My conclusion.... we’re getting there.

Here is the same first paragraph, but now slightly improved:

The aim of this research is to explore how queer women give meaning to the representation of queer women in television series and films. Queer women give meaning based on their judgments about the quality of television series and films, on how queer women are treated differently in television series and films, on the influence of television series and films, and because of a sense of identification that develops during the watching the television series and films.

Yes, that is an abundance of “television series and films”, but hey, my thesis advisor didn’t comment on that. As I said, it is slightly improved. It is still pretty vague, but just.... less? I am just a bit nervous cause it is still kind of dogshit and all my chapters will be graded separately. I need to pass all of them in order to pass my thesis, so I hope this conclusion won’t, as the Dutch say, put ashes in my food. I need to hand in a draft of the full thesis this Friday.

Again, [WYFMITE voice] how does this make you feel?

If you just read this sentence on its own, is it... fine? Okay? Dogshit?

It is also such a long sentence. Maybe I just need to cut it up in a couple of sentences, aka giving every main results its own sentence. I am just struggling with the ✨ word count ✨! Honestly, right now, I am under the word count, which surprised both me and my thesis advisor BUT I am aware I also need to add some other things so I doubt it will stay there SO using extra words when it’s unnecessary is not ideal. But is it unnecessary? Or is it necessary to make it more readable?

OH AND YOU KNOW WHAT IS ALSO FUNNY? MY THESIS NEEDS A TITLE AND A SUMMARY (aka the Abstract). WHY IS THIS FUNNY? CAUSE I’VE BITCHED COUNTLESS TIMES THAT THE HARDEST PART OF (fic) WRITING IS COMING UP WITH THE TITLE AND SUMMARY!!!! I’VE HAD FINISHED FICS STUCK IN MY DRAFTS FOR WEEKS BECAUSE OF THIS SHIT. SO YEAH, I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS SHIT ALSO HAUNTS MY THESIS.

And now, the weather: @quizasvivamos @blurglesmurfklaine @coffeegleek @esperantoauthor @otherworldsivelivedin @caramelcoffeeaddict @sillyunicorn @bazzybelle @dragoneggos @raenestee @tectonicduck @nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @thnxforknowingme @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @takitalks @justgleekout @cerriddwenluna @tea-brigade @ivelovedhimthroughworse @moodandmist @whogaveyoupermission @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @ionlydrinkhotwater @1908jmd @special-bc-ur-part-of-it @larkral @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @cutestkilla @nausikaaa/@wellbelesbian @artsyunderstudy @facewithoutheart @shrekgogurt @boyinjeans @rockitmans @bitbybitwrites @blackberrysummerblog @whatevertheweather​ @nightimedreamersghost​

[meadforspeed]

What's some advice you could give on how to plan out a fic?

Hey Anon! Sure, I can't promise that my process makes any sense though, it's just what works for me!

I've found that splitting up a fic in to bite sized pieces makes everything easier to manage. Deciding on a beginning and an ending is the hardest part. You get those two figured out--and I'm talking in the broadest of broad strokes--and everything else gets easier, you're just figuring out how to get from Point A to Point B in the most entertaining way.

After I've hammered out the basic premise, POV, and general themes I start with an outline. I use Scrivener, but before that, I used to do all of this on notecards.

Get two notecards. Figure out the beginning and ending--really broad strokes, just a sentence or two for each.

Figure out the major beats of the story. Order doesn't matter so much at this point, you're just hammering out major events you want to happen between the beginning and the ending.

After lots of shuffling, figure out an order that makes sense.

Add connecting chapters between the major beats.

Think up a quick one-sentence summary for each chapter on the front of each card.

This is the fun part, or at least it is for me. Write a more detailed synopsis of the chapter on the back of the card as if you're giving a play-by-play to a drunk friend. You're not going for anything fancy here, you're just spelling out what happened and giving some notes for tone (for example, 'Maul disapproves of hobo-Kenobi's new lifestyle and proceeds to be a real dick about it'). Vagueness is your friend--the details are a problem for future you. This is your garbage draft, and I promise, your garbage draft will make your rough draft so so so much easier.

Don't be afraid to move stuff around or deviate from your original plan--the garbage draft is garbage for a reason!

I hope this helps!!

[funky-writer-man]

saw this and was like ooh hope she tagged me in this...yes!!!!

I write: daily | most days | a few times a week | a few times a month | random, I could write a few days in a row and then not for months. Since writing it just a hobby for me, I don't have a strict schedule with it.

I write most often: when I first get up | later in the morning | afternoon | evening | the wee hours of the night | whenever. It might be the dislike of school in me, but I hate working at all until at least after lunch. Mornings and afternoons tend to be for chilling. I do vague planning and coming up with ideas whenever, though.

In one sitting, I tend to write: a few sentences at a time | a few hundred words | a few thousand words | a complete chapter/section no matter how long | an outline | whatever comes. If I'm having a good writing moment, I'll get a few hundred words in.

I tend to write scenes: in chronological order with no skipping | mostly in order but with some filler/skipping | whatever scene I feel like | who knows what’s gonna come out. I put mostly in order, just because that's how I used to always do it, like I wouldn't let myself do other stuff. But more recently I've been chill with it, so I picked that option.

The things that comes easiest to me are: dialogue | description of senses | description of action | description of characters | exposition | other. Dialogue is the one that I find the easiest to do, no matter what's going on. I could do pretty good description or exposition, but I tend to not be good when mixing two or more. But dialogue I'm solid at no matter what else is happening.

I tend to write: on a phone | on a laptop | in a notebook | on whatever paper I can find | with speech to text | in the blood of my enemies | it doesn’t really matter to me | on paper first and then typed up | old school typewriter | on a computer. The same as the scene order one, in that I used to do one thing, but now it's different. Before I had a laptop, I solely wrote on my phone. But I started associating just the idea of writing on my phone with writers block, so I only use my laptop now, which I definitely prefer.

When I take a break from writing, it usually lasts: a few days | a few weeks | a few months | it’s kind of random, but quite a while. I do other things though, like if we were judging how much creating FOR my writing I do, then I would be top of the class. But actual writing I do not that much.

My favorite thing to do when I’m on a writing break is: recharge with other creative hobbies | read/consume other media | do something physical | catch up with old friends | work on my WIP in other ways like with playlists or art (i like to do picrews for my characters) | other. I struggle with getting into media, but I do enjoy it, and plan to do it a lot.

In general, I think my writing habits are: pretty much what I need them to be | okay, but I’m working on making them better | non-existent | not great | i’m excited to develop them further | totally random | perfect for me, I used to be quite anxious constantly about if I was writing enough. I felt like if I didn't write soon, I was NEVER going to do it, so I needed to do it SOON. But I realised that just made creating stressful, and I couldn't get enjoyment out of it that way. It's so much more fun creating my little hypothetical characters and stories and worlds, and letting the actual writing come whenever it does.

Tagging :]] @transmasc-wizard @lower-ones-eyes @icarian-angel @the-raine-woods

writing habits tag

Tagged by @space-writes!

RULES: Bold or color the things that you relate to and then tag some people to play.

I write: daily | most days | a few times a week | a few times a month | random

I write most often: when I first get up | later in the morning | afternoon | evening | the wee hours of the night | whenever

In one sitting, I tend to write: a few sentences at a time | a few hundred words | a few thousand words | a complete chapter/ section no matter how long | an outline | whatever comes

I tend to write scenes: in chronological order with no skipping | mostly in order but with some filler/skipping | whatever scene I feel like | who knows what’s gonna come out

The things that comes easiest to me are: dialogue | description of senses | description of action | description of characters | exposition | other

I tend to write: on a phone | on a laptop | in a notebook | on whatever paper I can find | with speech to text | in the blood of my enemies | it doesn’t really matter to me | on paper first and then typed up | old school typewriter | on a computer

When I take a break from writing, it usually lasts: a few days | a few weeks | a few months | it’s kind of random

My favorite thing to do when I’m on a writing break is: recharge with other creative hobbies | read/consume other media | do something physical | catch up with old friends | work on my WIP in other ways like with playlists or art | other

In general, I think my writing habits are: pretty much what I need them to be | okay, but I’m working on making them better | non-existent | not great | i’m excited to develop them further | totally random | perfect for me

Gently tagging @e-klair, @cream-and-tea, @scroll-of-aves and @squarebracket-trick for this!

[hurlingsupport]

Can I request inside job Reagan x reader platonic who teen prodigy who works at congito inc and reader always looks up Reagan compliments their work and aslo reader has chaotic energy personality lol I hope this ok

It's definitely okay! This is a nice idea, also thanks for the request!!

(Reagan and Teen Prodigy! Gender Nuetral Reader One-shot)

It’s a sunny Monday morning, the temperature's around 78°, and the birds are happily chirping away. It’s a perfect morning, leading to a similarly perfect day. 

However, that suspicious tranquility is interrupted with the sound of sizzling circuit board joints, a sound you consider music to your ears. So much so, that you hum a melody that vaguely matches the wires attaching themselves to joints on said circuit.

Now, what could a kid—scratch that—TEEN genius possibly create with a singular circuit board? Ah, the possibilities are truly endless. However, before you can use your intellectual mind to make the world spin to your rhythm, there’s a knocking at your door.

The sizzling stops, and your content humming comes to a close. There’s silence, and you have an underlying sense of anxiety about what may be waiting behind the wooden door that you oh so desperately wish you could upgrade. Is J.R going to order someone to put a bag over your head again? You hope not. The first one smelled odd, and you’d rather not catch anything.

A voice, one that isn’t gruff and attempting to micro-chip you, appears behind the alder wood. 

“You there? You’re not dead are you—that’d be the third one this week—please don’t be dead.” You squint your eyes at the mystery person’s words before making a run towards your apartment door. And once you pull it open, you nearly squeal. 

“Reagan!” Your lips curl into an excited smile, bouncing on your toes as you stare at her. She’s not much taller than you, yet you look up to her both literally and figuratively. She smiles back, though it’s more out of relief than excitement. 

“Hey, what took you so long to answer the door?” She walks in, wiggling her shoes off before going any further into your home. Which you’re thankful for. Since she has some unidentifiable liquid on her shoes, you wouldn’t want to clean whatever it was off your carpet.

“Sorry, I thought it was the CIA again!” The two of you let out some chuckles, but yours ends with a fearful hiss. “They won’t do that to me again, will they?” 

Reagan grimaces, then gives you a half-hearted pat on the back, as if to say ‘no, they totally will’—before retreating into your workspace. Really, it was just a rather messy area in your living room, since your apartment wasn’t all that spacious. 

“Tasty circuit work. What’re you working on in this little lair of yours?” She smirks at you, pointing at the unfinished circuit board with a soldering iron resting on its own holder nearby. 

Your eyes widen, as you were planning to show the finished product to Reagan as both a present and a message which stood for: “I wanna be your evil assistant even though you’re not inherently evil but whatever” 

It’s not until silence fills the room that you realize you said that aloud. 

“UH–” You spin around looking for any kind of distraction to convince Reagan that she didn’t hear those words exit your mouth. You find a solution once you spot the modified goggles that sat on top of her head.

“Wow! Look at those goggles—they look super useful. What do you use them for, Reagan ma’am?” Reagan sputters at your use of the word ma’am before answering.

“They’re, uh, a bit of a mix between safety goggles and a magnifying glass. But what did you say-” you interrupt her sentence as you continue to compliment her impressive creation.

“How do they work? Is there a separate layer with convex lenses or is it a mix between that and a polycarbonate lens?” 

“Oh, haha- um, it’s just separate layers.” She pulled the goggles over her eyes and flicked a layer of glass over the structure of the goggles. “You just flip the convex lens over the polycarbonate layer and—viola! A multi-layer tight-fitting eye protector perfected for situations such as chemical splash, irritating mist and/or vapor, AND activities such as soldering!” 

She proudly puffs out her chest, taking in your amazement like a dry sponge, and therefore forgetting your previous statement just as you had hoped. You let out a huff of air as you began to wonder why Reagan was in your apartment in the first place.

“Hold on, why are you even here?” Reagan pauses her monologue about the safety goggles and pulls said accessory off her eyes.

“Huh.” 

There’s a moment of awkward silence, though you can’t comprehend why it’s awkward on your end. 

“Oh! Dammit, I completely forgot about what I came here for.” She loses her grip on the goggles completely, flinching when they slap her head, and makes her way towards your front door. Slipping her shoes on as she grabs the handle, she turns toward you with a more serious expression.

“Change into some work-appropriate clothes. I’m driving you to Cognito.” And with that, she’s out your door, and you’re left to look down at what you’re wearing. 

It’s a dinosaur onesie.

After the awkward acknowledgement that your role model saw you in a onesie, you sped into your bedroom to change into a white button up and black slacks. You almost—no, scratch that you actually do tumble down your apartment complex stairs as you hurry to Reagan’s car. 

She stares in concern at your slightly disheveled appearance before starting the engine. Then silence ensues, leaving you to wonder if she was going to bring up what you thought you had successfully distracted her from.

“Evil assistant…” she mutters.

God dammit. 

“Y’know, I think you’d fit into that role perfectly.” This makes you look in her direction.

“Scuse me?” The words scramble out of your mouth, and you wince at the improperness.

Reagan laughs, keeping her eyes on the road as she slightly leans her head towards you. “I’m not too sure about the evil part, but you do commit some rather wicked acts.” 

You briefly remember her saying something similar after you had blown up their meeting room. You swore it hadn’t been your fault. You only wanted to show off a gun that could shoot things other than bullets. You didn’t know that Andre had pumped it full of nitroglycerin when you had suggested he fill it with ‘literally anything’ earlier that day. You made Andre do your paperwork for a month after that.

You shudder, and Reagan raises a brow before continuing. 

“You seem like a good evil-doer. Or at least as good as an evil-doer can get.” She nudges you with her elbow, encouraging you to loosen up. “I’d like it.”

You smile, staying silent since you really had nothing else to say. You had finally told Reagan, someone you aspired to be one day, that you wanted to work underneath her; and not only had she accepted, but she wanted you to work under her too! 

You struggle to keep happy noises from escaping your mouth, the only evidence of your exhilaration being the wide smile on your face and your feet unintentionally kicking the glove box every once in a while.

Reagan snickers and mumbles under her breath, “Evil assistant, huh?” 

[mirai-studies-languages]

How to study grammar in a foreign language

I have studied grammar in French, Spanish, Arabic, Japanese and Russian, so I’m basing this off of my experiences with that. I’m going to preface this by saying that in order to study grammar fairly quickly and effectively, you’re going to need to put the work in. Yes, you can learn grammar through conversation and making mistakes, but frankly, it will take a lot longer, and will be a lot more confusing. Grammar is hard and often boring, but it’s necessary.

Do practice questions! This is honestly your best option. Get a workbook (you can probably find loads of PDFs online, like on Z-library), and work through the questions without checking your notes.

Make your notes as minimal as you can! Just write down the essentials, which is usually the structure, when you use the structure and some example sentences. It’s tempting to write down what the textbook says word for word, but it’s a waste of time.

Make your own example sentences! Use your own vocabulary, even if it’s limited, to make your own sentences in the language. If you can do this accurately, then that’s a sign that you do know the structure.

Get corrections! You can use HiNative, or ask a native speaker. It’s important to know where you’re going wrong, so you can target your weaknesses later.

Write! This is the best, honestly. Writing is a fairly complex and necessary way of demonstrating your understanding of grammar, and it’s easy to see where you are going wrong when you write. You can use a site like Journaly to get corrections.

Do translations! Get an article or short story, and try translating a paragraph into your target language (make sure to get corrections). Look up vocabulary you don’t know, as that isn’t the most important thing in this exercise.

Drill your irregular verbs! Use flashcards, write them over and over again, however you do it, just get them stuck in your head.

Make a cheat sheet! I did this with French and it worked wonders. I recommend just doing it to review rules that you at least have a vague idea about. 

Ask questions! If you have a teacher, or a native friend, ask them for help understanding grammar. You can also use online forums. 

Use formulae! If you have a fairly logical brain, then it might make sense for you to write your notes using this format.

Read more! Input is EVERYTHING. Reading more books and articles in your target language will expose you more to grammar in it’s natural state, and that will really improve your grammar.

Be aware of when you use certain grammar rules! Ask questions, make your notes and practice loads. It’s really important to be solid in your knowledge of the usage of a grammar rule.

Regularly review! You can look at your notes, or do some online quizzes. Just make sure you’re regularly refreshing your memory.

Thanks for reading this post! I hope it was somewhat useful to you!

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Bravery Comes In Many Forms

Summary: Some new guy in the guild decides to pick a fight with Laxus in an attempt to win Reader from him. Gajeel gets in on the action when the guy decides to disrespect Reader.

TW/CW: Laxus Dreyar x Female!Reader. An unnamed new to the guild character is pretty rude and disrespectful. None that I can think of other than that.

Requested? Yes, a lovely Anon said, “Hey! if you don't mind can i get a Laxus x reader(preferably female but it can be gn) it can be anything angst, fluff, it really doesn't matter, THANKS SO MUCH”

Word Count: 1,300

A/N: So, I pulled a few prompts for this one bc I don’t really have any other ideas stored up lol, hope you don’t mind. I hope you enjoy the read! Love to all!

Prompts: “Where you from?” “Here and there.” “What do you do?” “This and that.” “You ever-” “Now and then.” “Boy you’re just full of information.”     Person A getting really annoyed with their tangled headphones and Person B just taking them off them and doing it for them.     “Do you need a hand?” “Does it look like I need your help?” “Do you really want me to answer that or would you like to maintain plausible deniability for later?” Dialogue prompts are bolded.

As I make my way into the Guild Hall, many of my new friends say hello or wave. I’m so happy that I’ve found Fairy Tail and was allowed to join. It’s only been a few weeks and I already feel at home. Everyone is so welcoming and kind and honestly, the rowdiest bunch of mages I’ve ever seen but that makes it fun and exciting.

I make my way over to the bar and take a seat on a stool next to a very handsome gentleman in a large coat with fur around the collar. I order a drink from Mira and then turn to him to strike up a friendly conversation, “Hey big guy, where you from?”

He gives me the side-eye before rolling his eyes, “Here and there.”

Sensing a challenge, I decide to play his game, “What do you do around here?”

“This and that,” comes another vague answer.

I’m determined to get more than just a short vague answer so I continue, “You ever-”

“Now and then,” he says before I can finish my question.

This draws a chuckle out of me, “Boy, you’re just full of information.” Mira drops off my drink and giggles at my comment before heading off to help another guild member.

He shrugs so I pull out my earbuds and decide to listen to music while I wait him out. Unfortunately, my earbuds are yet again tangled from being in my pocket. I’m thoroughly surprised I didn’t lose them on my last job. I huff as I struggle to get them untangled which draws the mysterious man’s attention toward me. He raises an eyebrow, “Do you need a hand?”

I tilt my head at him, “Oh now I get a full sentence,” I look back down at my earbuds and return to untangling them, “Does it look like I need your help?”

“Do you really want me to answer that or would you like to maintain plausible deniability for later?” he responds. I ignore him and continue my work but after a moment of my frustrated tugging at them, he gently pulls them from my hands, “You’re going to break them if you keep that up.” Seconds later, he has them completely untangled and neat. After handing them back to me he pulls out his own headphones and places them over his ears. I mumble a thanks and then put my earbuds in and press play on my music. Little did I know, I had just had my first interaction with Laxus Dreyar, one of the strongest members of the guild and Master Makarov’s grandson.

A few months pass by of small interactions with the lightning dragon slayer. During one of said interactions, I finally learn his name. He seemed shocked when I didn’t cower in fear. I’ve never be known to fear things that I probably should. Looking back, I wonder if that’s why he found an interest in me. I obviously respect him for the power that he holds but I never fear him.

One day, I'm sitting at one of the tables in the guild hall with my back turned to the table as I talk to Levy, with Gajeel at her side as always, about her most recent favorite book. Suddenly, someone takes a seat beside me, honestly too close for comfort. I scoot away from this newcomer, he had just joined the guild yesterday, in hope that he’ll get the hint and keep his distance. Before the guy can scoot closer, I hear and feel boots stomping on the table behind me before someone drops to sit on the table with their feet propped on the seat and their legs to either side of me.

Looking back, I find my best friend recently made boyfriend Laxus sitting there with a very pissed-off look on his face. However, he isn’t looking at me. He’s looking at the mage sitting beside me who has now squared up and seems rather annoyed. The annoyance is clear in his tone when he speaks up, “Hey pal, can’t you see I’m trying to make a move here. Back the fuck off.”

Now, even Levy and Gajeel are pissed at this man’s audacity. Gajeel looks like he’s about to iron club this guy into the next century. Levy seems to be barely holding him back. That being said, Laxus doesn’t need their help. He leans forward and throws his arm around my shoulders, “Moves have already been made here. Leave.”

“How about I fight you for her?” the, I have to say it, idiot challenges.

“Lax-,” I mumble placing a hand on his arm around my shoulders in hopes of halting him, “He doesn’t know what he’s getting into. He just joined yesterday.”

“You’re kidding me right?” Laxus grumbles, “You just joined yesterday and you’re already hitting up every woman you come across? I just saw you trying to hit on Cana and Mira said you hit on her this morning.”

The newbie shrugs, “What’s the point in joining a powerful guild if I don’t at least try to get a girlfriend out of the deal. Now, are you going to fight me or not?”

Levy and I visibly tense up at his rudeness. I stand, shrugging off Laxus’s arm as I do, “How about you fight me instead?”

“Tch, like you could take me in a fight. Sit back down girly the big boys are talking,” he answers. Now Laxus stands and, with Gajeel close behind, moves to stand between me and the newbie. Levy jumps up to my side to pull me away toward the bar before we get caught in the crossfire.

From our new seats at the bar with Mira and Cana, we can hear Gajeel say, “You just joined and you’ve already gone and pissed off not one but two Dragon Slayers.”

Laxus chuckles, “I’m willing to bet that if Natsu hears there’s a fight he’ll join. He also doesn’t appreciate rude assholes who objectify women.”

“Good point. So, do you really want to fight three Dragon Slayers?” Gajeel asks the newbie.

In an attempt to make himself seem bigger and stronger, the newbie straightens up and holds his head high, “Bring it.”

For a moment, it seems like Laxus is contemplating something. I know he can take this guy down with a single lightning strike but as he nudges Gajeel and says, “You take the first move,” I can tell he’s decided to let his best friend join in on the fun.

“I wonder if this guy realizes that those two could easily take him down in a good old fistfight,” Cana mumbles before taking a sip of her keg.

Mira laughs, “That’s true. They could just shove the guy and he’d be down for the count.” Levy and I are silent as we watch out boyfriends practically bat this guy around like a couple of cats with a ball of yarn. It doesn’t take long for this guy to drop to his knees and forfeit. Thankfully ending the fight before Natsu gets wind of it. As Laxus and Gajeel make their way over to us, leaving the guy to wallow in his defeat, they both have huge grins on their faces.

Gajeel drops onto a stool beside Levy, “I don’t think that guy is gonna be picking any more fights around here for a while.”

Laxus scoffs as he takes a seat beside me, “Good, the idiot needed to be put in his place.” We all laugh and order a round of drinks. Even though I could’ve fought that guy myself, it feels good to have someone to protect me.

I place my chin on Laxus’s shoulder and whisper in his ear, “Thank you, Sparky.”

He kisses my forehead, “Anytime, babe.”

Masterlists

More Laxus Dreyar Imagines

Taglist: @emiijemii @cursedwings2005 @willowtree42095

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Desperate Measures.

Pairing: Yandere!Kaeya/Reader (Genshin Impact).

Word Count: 2.2k.

TW: Kidnapping, Emotional Manipulation, Implied Stalking, and Delusional Mindsets.

Kaeya was a man, distracted.

Distracted. Divided. Not inattentive, but pulled away from his responsibilities by a force he couldn’t name and couldn’t say he cared for, either. He wasn’t a stranger to romantic inclinations — fantasies, sudden flings, slow-burning inclinations that died the moment his attention was called elsewhere. Predictably, the few relationships he allowed himself were short-lived, at best distasterous at worst, but he didn’t have a problem with that. If anything, Kaeya appreciated it. He’d always thought of company as optional, and what little loneliness he was still capable of feeling could be drowned with a generous glass of wine. He wasn’t one to linger. He tried not to overstay his welcome. He’d been sentimental, once, too emotional for his own good, and he’d learned his lesson. He didn’t intend to change.

He didn’t want to change.

And yet, here he was.

Distracted.

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t focus. It was all he could do to look like he might’ve been trying to read the most recent document left on his desk – this one from Jean, a directive for the younger knights or legislation she needed him to review or another vague, important report that he probably would’ve dealt with weeks ago, if he’d been able to concentrate.

He made a half-hearted effort to straighten his back as the door to his office began to open, but Kaeya dropped the act quickly, abandoning it completely by the time he heard the sound of heeled boots against hollow tile, caught a glimpse of a familiar (albeit, rarely used) catalyst, searched for eyes and found the cover of a thin book, instead, your face still buried in your newest novel as you stepped through the threshold, not bothering to knock. It was you. He should’ve known it would be. Who else did he deserve?

You, Lisa’s new assistant. You, the latest addition to the Knights of Favonius. You, his current, infuriating, unshakable fixation.

You, the new recruit who hadn’t paid him so much as a passing glance since your arrival, much to Kaeya’s frustration.

You didn’t look at him. You rarely ever did, but it hurt more than it usually did, today, as you dropped another form onto his desk, letting it replace the greeting you’d forgotten to offer. “Lisa needs you to sign this,” You started, laying out your priorities clearly, a skill Kaeya was beginning to resent. “It’s just next year’s budget. If you don’t want to read it, I think I’ll be able to look the other way.”

He glanced over the rows of numbers, the messy hand-writing, the columns of meaningless gibberish that blended together into a mess of ink and digits, and took your suggestion, scrawling his name across the only blank line. It was a lost cause, especially with you in the room. Especially with your unoccupied hand resting on his desk, your fingertips idly tapping an unsteady rhythm into the wood, and all he could think about was who he’d be willing to kill to feel that hand pressed against his cheek.

He considered asking you, for a moment, giving you an order and hoping you'd absent-mindedly obey. He thought about touching you, or running his fingers through your hair, or pulling you into his lap and mumbling sweet-nothings into your ear until someone else dragged you away.

He thought about a lot of things. Then, he said, “I take it your silence comes at a price?”

“Do I seem that selfish to you?” You were selfish. You had to be selfish. If you weren’t, then surely you would’ve been kind enough to put him out of his misery months ago. “I like helping people. Just remember this when I need a favor from you.”

“I’m sure we could work something more immediate out,” He went on, but you were already starting towards the door, calling the conversation to a close before Kaeya could begin to finish. In the back of his mind, something flared, the urge to catch your wrist, to go after you, to put himself between you and the only exit and refuse to move until you looked at him, but he forced it down, swallowing the temptation before it could eclipse his common sense. He couldn’t be impulsive. He couldn’t make rash decisions. He wasn’t prepared to deal with how difficult that would make things, not now.

Not yet.

“Join me for a drink?” He tried, again, attempting to sound unbothered. Nonchalant, casual, normal. Like he wasn’t itching to burn every book you’d touched. “I know you don’t have anything better to--”

“Another night, Captain.”

And just like that, you were gone, leaving Kaeya’s muttered response to echo through his empty office.

“Of course.”

~

Kaeya was a man, desperate.

Like a starving dog. Like a traveler who hadn’t seen water in thirty days. Like a distraught, distressed, disturbed knight, wandering through a maze of a library, cursing the existence of every shelf that separated him from you. He knew where you'd be. You were a creature of habit, and he’d already had more than enough time to memorize your routine. He’d had enough time to memorize everything about you, as ashamed as he was to admit it. It was a testament to his devotion, to how much time he’d spent trying and failing to win your favor.

It was evidence of how pathetic he’d gotten, over the course of his one-sided pursuit.

You were in your usual spot – tucked into the far corner of the library, perched on the edge of a windowsill, your attention monopolized by the tattered scroll spread across your lap. You were still pouring over it by the time he reached you, slumping against the nearest wall, taking in how brilliantly the muted sunlight looked as it danced across your skin. He didn’t try to hide the way he stared, anymore. He was long past worrying that you’d care enough to notice. Your hair was unkempt, proof that’d you slept in the archives again, if you’d slept at all. Your lips were bleeding, too, the lower one chewed raw and split down the middle, but it might’ve been stranger if they weren’t. It must’ve been a nervous tick, but Kaeya found it cute. Kaeya found it endearing. Kaeya found everything about you endearing, and to the archons, he wanted to see those lips wrapped around his co--

And he hated it. He found everything about you endearing, and he hated it. That was all.

He sighed, the sound airy, exhausted. You didn’t look up, but that was fine. It would’ve only hurt him further if someone as simple as that drew out your concern. “I’m in love with you.”

There was a hum, soft and contemplative. A rather generous response, by your standards. “I’ve noticed.”

“You’re all I think about.” It was an awkward confession, one he’d already used a hundred different times. He didn’t care. He’d use it a hundred more, if he had to. “I’m a wreck. I can barely remember my own name, and some days I can’t even do that. I can’t fight, I can’t eat, I can hardly breathe. Every morning, I wonder what it would be like to wake up to your smile, and every night, I stare at my ceiling and loath myself because I’m not holding you in my arms. For fuck’s sake, just yesterday, I almost kissed Albedo because the chemicals he was working with reminded me of the way your favorite kind of flower smells, and I’m just so fucking desperate, I convinced myself that was the closest I’d ever come to kissing you.”

He was rambling, by the end, panting, yelling, but you only blinked when he was done, once, then twice. Your dull nails bit into the edges of your scroll, but you didn’t seem to mind, nor did you move to roll it up as you finally turned to face him, the confusion written clearly across your expression. “You kissed Albedo?”

“You don’t get it,” He said, and you nodded in agreement. “You don’t fucking get it.”

“I think I do,” You admitted, more earnestly. Your gaze dropped back to the ground, and instantly, Kaeya deflated. “I just… I just don’t think it’d work out, if I’m being honest. I’m still new. I still have to give everyone else a reason to trust me, and I don’t think it’s in my best interest to start a relationship with one of my superiors so early on.” You paused, laughing to yourself, and something in Kaeya’s chest tightened. It was the happiest he’d been since he met you, and he still felt like you’d pushed a sword through his heart and twisted. “But, you don’t really want a relationship, do you? You’re just bored, and you need something to fixate on. I’m the most available option, so...” You trailed off, finishing your sentence with a vague, stilted sweeping gesture. “It’ll be easier for both of us, this way. I like you, Captain, but I don’t like you enough to put myself through that.”

It was all he could do to remember how to open his mouth. Once he did, the words came stumbling out on their own.

“Of course.”

~

Kaeya was a man, determined.

Determined might’ve been the wrong word for it. Too soft, too suggestive, the impression too positive and the meaning too vague. ‘Depraved’ might’ve suited him better, but that was too harsh, too primitive, and he’d like to think he’d been as gentle as anyone could expect him to be, given your stubbornness. He’d tried to be gentle. He’d wanted to be gentle. If he was going to do this to you, he could at least do it gently. You deserved that much, at least.

Or, maybe you didn’t. Maybe you didn’t deserve any of this.

He couldn’t really make up his mind, about that.

“Lisa?”

And he was gentle, more so than he had to be. Sure, you were on the floor, bare stone already beginning to chafe at your skin, but the shackles around your wrists were padded, and he’d given you enough slack to sit down, to ball yourself up, to act like it’d never crossed your mind that he’d resort to something so… easily misinterpreted. The blindfold was, similarly, an act of mercy. You’d panic if you woke up like this, chained to a wall in someone else’s cellar, and Kaeya didn’t want that. You needed time, and he could give you that. He would give you that. Even if it pained him to stay at arm’s length.

“Amber?”

He wanted to touch you. It’d be easy, now, easier than it’d ever been before. You wouldn’t be able to push him away, and even if you tried to, he could always overpower you. Take you by the neck, pin you against the floor, leave you shaking and trembling and begging, pleading with a captor you couldn’t see. He’d find a way to make it up to you, later on. He’d find a way to lie, to smile, to make it better, even if he’d failed to time and time again, out there. But, this would be different. You wouldn’t be able to cling to your excuses, and he’d be able to show you how much he cared, how much he wanted this, how much he loved you. This would be better.

“Kaeya?”

See? You were already coming around.

Your voice was already soft, hesitant, a sliver of a whisper that was constantly on the verge of dying out completely. You were trying not to make noise, trying not to seem as terrified as you really were, but he could hear the way your breath hitched as he took a step forward, your restraints rattling as you curled into yourself. You couldn’t hide from him, but you wanted to. That much was obvious. You didn’t want this.

But, he did. More than you could ever want to run away from it.

He wanted to touch you, but he held himself back. Instead, he only kneeled in front of you, letting himself linger for a moment before he spoke. “I’m here, love.”

“Where are we?” You were afraid, too scared to put the pieces together. Not while you could still hope there was another explanation. Not while you could still deny the apparent. “My head hurts, and I can’t--”

“I know, and I’ll make it up to you.” This time, he let himself reach out, cupping your cheek and chuckling as you tried to shy away. The two of you could work on that, later on. He could live with the guilt if he let himself enjoy it, now. “Just give me a moment, alright? Just a second, then I’ll take care of you.”

You opened your mouth, then you closed it again. Kaeya wondered if you’d be bold enough to refuse if he did try to kiss you, or hold you, or go further than the fleeting touches he’d swore would keep him satisfied, at first, at least. He wondered if he’d care, when you did. “Are… are you going to hurt me?”

He wanted to reassure you. He wanted to promise he’d be patient, that he’d understand if you lashed out, that violence wasn’t an option he was willing to consider, but he couldn’t, like this, could he? He didn’t want to hurt you, but he’d never wanted to kidnap you, either, not until you made it obvious he didn’t have another choice. He didn’t want to stoop so low, he didn’t want you to hate him, but…

But, he was lying again, wasn’t he?

To tell the truth, he couldn’t remember the last time he genuinely cared whether or not you loved him back.

You stifled a scream as his hand dropped to your jaw, his grip tightening as he jerked you forward, just close enough to wrap his arm around your waist, to bury his face in the side of your neck, to get a taste of what you’d deprived him of. It wasn’t enough, he doubted it’d ever be enough, but he had you. He had you, he was close to you, and he had you. That had to be enough, for now.

“We’ll see.”