#someone else asked on twitter (so im at least not the only person who thinks so) but didnt get an answer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ethicalvinyls · 1 year ago

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you and ellie are on a first date after making things official and you guys take edibles and go to the zoo, when you guys get back home you and ellie have sex for the first time and it’s really cute and awkward cause ellie is a loser AH IM BLUSHING😭😭

let me preface this by saying it's not all that. this request has taken me a very long time because 1. I was on vacation with no internet, and 2. I have lost so much motivation to write. so give this some slack. BUT, enjoy!

not proofread!

wc: 5.1K

Dates are not an activity you participate in. It might be because before today, you’ve never been asked out on one. But even with your virginity regarding any romantic aspect, dates seem embarrassing to you. A night full of awkward laughter and jokes you have to laugh at or else you’re deemed a shitty person. You have to seem interested even though you might not be. You might not even like the restaurant you’re sitting at, or the museum you’re sleepily wandering around. And if there’s a price tag on the meal, tickets, or whatever it might be, you have to paw at your purse, pockets, fake jean pockets, even though the person who asked you out is the one who has to pay.

At least that’s what dates look like in movies and television and across social media.

You try not to let that image dance across your mind when Ellie, your official girlfriend as of last week, asks you out on an official date. These past couple of days have been all about official with you two: holding hands on daily walks, posting one another on social media, sharing creative joints like crosses Ellie has never made for anyone else, and going around town kissing and hugging and being the poster adults for PDA.

You like to think that because of how you’ve been acting towards one another, this awful idea of dates won’t even exist after the date to the zoo today. How Ellie is with you—soft, overly cheesy, kind, comedic—doesn’t compare to the assholes you’ve seen ditch women in movies, or on Twitter where women have said men have made them split the check. Ellie would never do such a thing—she’d rather die than let you pay for anything while she’s with you.

You’re getting ready for the date when someone softly knocks on your door—so soft you would miss it if your room wasn’t merely a foot next to the entrance. You only have on the black bralette Ellie bought you and a pair of jeans. You pick up a tank top and rush to the door, your arm shoving itself into the right arm hole. You slightly open the door so only your forehead and eyes can be seen, and peek outside. Ellie stands there, dressed in a black Henley, a washed-out brown bomber jacket, her black jeans, and her insanely beat-up Converse.

You pull your arm out of the tank top and fully open the door, the bottom half of your face stringed into a defined smile. “Hi,” you say. Ellie doesn’t move instantly as she stares you down. She just smiles as harsh as you are—maybe even harsher—and nods. “You hungry? I have a couple snacks in the pantry if you want something before we go.”

She shakes her head and walks into the apartment, her eyes still trained on your body. You want to laugh and pull her head into your neck, ruffle her little shag with your recently painted nails, kiss her until her eyes are trained on your face and not your tits.

“Uh… No. I’m fine. Are you alright?”

You shake your head and pull her into your room by her pinky. White and pink lights is all that illuminates your room, no buggy yellow overcast that paints an odd look on your face. Ellie says she enjoys how it’s dim and bright at the same time; how euphoric it feels to sit on your bed and watch you paint your face.

You don’t really talk to one another after that, only sit in melodic silence as you continue setting your face with powder and hurry to apply your lip liner and plum lipstick. When you dust off your face and stand to pick out your clothes, Ellie digs into her bomber jacket, her face contorted into wiggly eyebrows and a poking tongue.

You stand back and place your hands on your hips, observing her doing. You open your mouth, a breathe hopping into the air before Ellie cuts you off with a… an apple fritter covered in saran wrap.

You pull a confused face and drop your hands from your hips. “Is that a—“

“It’s an edible,” she cuts you off, unwrapping it. “Are you okay with that?”

You nod as you walk up and sit beside her. You’ve known she’s sold weed in many forms—pens, carts, disposables, buds, whatever the names for them were—since you met her, but she’s never once sold edibles. You’ve known her for less than she’s sold, but you know she’s never once made oil for edibles, nor baked anything a day in her life.

Air bubbles at your lips and pops, signaling that words are also about to pop out of your mouth. But again, Ellie nicely cuts you off—as though she can read your mind.

“I made them last night. I kept getting edible-making videos on my feed and decided to give it a go. They’re for our date.”

The scent of weed coats the air and your nostrils. It takes a second for it to dim down, but once it does you can finally smell the caramelized apple, the brown sugar and overall sweetness of the baked treat.

You huff a laugh of surprise and lift a finger to your lips. “You baked this?”

Ellie shrugs. “With the help of Dina, yes.”

You nod, figuring that Ellie alone is incapable of baking anything as time consuming as apple fritters. Thanks to Dina, of course, this baked good looks and smells absolutely delicious.

“So… do we eat it now or wait?” You ask, your fingers curiously running across her thighs.

Ellie chuckles and a light blush coats her freckles. “If you’d like,” she says, then splits the fritter in half. She lifts the piece into the air and looks up at it with second thoughts. “Can you handle half?”

You look at the large half, almost instantly remembering her customers reviews: strong, ‘will hit you really hard,’ ‘I knocked out with one hit.’ Some may have been more exaggerated than others, but the vast majority claimed Ellie’s weed was strong. And if you take the entire half she offers you, you’ll be so high you end up throwing up.

You shake your head and take the piece from her. You split it in half and give her the bigger piece. “I’ll this, get dressed, and by the time we get to the zoo, I can see if I need more.”

She nods and slides the bigger piece of apple fritter from your fingers. She pops it into her mouth and chews then swallows. She looks over at you as you lick the residue off her fingers and wink. She shuts her eyes for a second and opens them as if she’s been struck over the head, dizzily reacting to your wink. Her red cheeks brighten as you stand in only your bra and jeans and walk over to your closet, where you unhook your bra and try on different shirts.

The zoo, in most occasions, is not your cup of tea. When you were a kid you’d much rather sit in the antarctic section of the path and watch the penguins bounce around and jump into their icy water. The smell of waste and excretion was light and the room was typically cold. You enjoyed sitting there and watching them until your parents rounded back the path and picked you up.

But now as you walk about with Ellie—high as hell, might you add as you took another quarter of the edible before entering—you’re enjoying all aspects of the zoo: the giraffes, gorillas, birds, every single one, and especially the penguins. The cool air that remains trapped in the room smoothes over the skin under your jacket, leaving goosebumps all over your body.

“It’s cold,” Ellie whispers against your neck. Her body is shaking although she has spent every second in this room glued to your side. “You used to love it in here?”

You chuckle. “I typically came here during the summer,” you tell her, “when most families come. We have decided to come here during the fall—which I’m not complaining about, by the way.”

“I take no offense,” she happily replies. “But… it makes sense.”

You wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her up to the window revealing all of the flopping penguins. No one is in this room, they only walk in and glance at the penguins after the cool air strangles them.

You press your free hand against the glass and a penguin turns its nonexistent neck to watch you guys. It hops down the ice block where the rest of its family lives and waddles to the edge. It flops into the water and sinks down. You laugh as it floats back up and spins.

“Oh my god,” you whisper against the glass and watch it fog up. “Is the penguin putting on a show for us or is that just in my head?”

“Mhm-mhm.”

A string of laughter falls out of Ellie’s mouth and it catches up to you, too. Soon enough, you both are in a fit of laughter. Due to the questionable amount of the edible you’ve ate in the past hour and a half along with the dancing penguin, you both are doubling over and slamming your foreheads against the glass.

You rub your stomach to tend to the growing pain while Ellie holds onto your arm, trying not to fall to the floor.

“I think we had too much,” Ellie says through heaves.

“How?” You ask as your laughter simmers and you can finally catch another look at the penguin. It’s back on its rock beside its pals and you wonder if the show happened at all. “You’re not light-weight.”

“Dina and I used a looot of oil in these things. Like… too much.”

You place a hand on your lower belly and suck in an intoxicating breath. “Oh God,” you mutter.

Ellie’s eyes steady—as does her posture—and she places her hands atop your shoulders, smoothing the worry down your arms and through your fingertips. “You okay?” She asks, her face contorting into a doctor-esque look. “Do you want to go now?”

You look over her, as if you haven’t been staring at every inch of her since you arrived at the zoo. Her black jeans do her ass the biggest, fattest favor, and the tight Henley snuggling her breasts make you want to take its place. When she turns her her head every which way, you stare down her face, as if you haven’t seen her freckles a load of times, or the hair she continues cutting shorter. (This time you hope she keeps it this way. )

“You want to go?” She asks again, and you remember she asked you this in the first place.

You shake your head and sigh as you realize it was a mistake. You’re slightly dizzy and fucking freezing. “We can leave this exhibit. Let’s move onto the next one.”

“The ants and insects?” Ellie asks, obviously a joke as she slides her fingers onto your torso and tickles your you.

You squirm and slap her hands off. “No! Hell no! I mean the giraffes.”

Ellie kisses your cheek and runs her mouth along your ear. “Okay,” she whispers, and you have to tighten your hands into fists to keep them from running up her damn Henley.

Your hands are wrapped around a cheeseburger and you’re leaned against Ellie’s old gray truck. You sit outside your apartment and watch as people get in and out of their apartments and cars.

“Do you ever wonder what people are leaving?” You ask. Your question is stuck in a blob of the same question and you try your best to word it correctly.

You look over at Ellie as her brows wriggle on her forehead. “Whaddyamean?” She asks, her mouth full. Usually you’d stand up and run away after watching your date talk with their mouth full, but you must be in serious love because you find it cute as hell.

“Like…” you breathe. “When people walk out of their houses, or whatever, I wonder where they’re going. Who are they going to meet? What are they going to do? Or when I’m driving—or you are—and you stare out the window and just look at these drivers faces; do you not wonder where they’re going? If they have a family they’re coming home to. If they’re struggling in some part of their life but they’re happy nonetheless.”

“Sonder,” she says.

“Hm?”

“Sonder,” she repeats, now looking at you. She’s completely entranced. “I’ve heard that’s what it is.”

“Is it weird that I wonder that?” You ask her.

She shakes her head as if that’s a stupid question to ask. “No. I think it’s interesting to always have those questions. To always want to know.”

You nod even though you yourself think it’s strange. No one has ever been on her side on this matter. You explain yourself well to those you tell—past partners, flings, friends—but no one has attempted to understand.

“Seriously” you ask, much quieter, less thrilled to hear her truth.

Ellie sets down her burger and the faintest chuckle rips through her. “You think I’m a liar?” She questions.

You shrug and lower your burger to your thighs. The wrapper between your fingers is greasy, it almost feels as though its mimicking the sweat coating your forehead. Anxiety is biting your skin off; Ellie knowing about what most run from cannot be thrilling.

“I don’t think you’re a liar.” You pick up your drink and take a sip, soothing the lump of food lodged between your words. “I just don’t know if you’re telling the truth.”

She laughs this time and takes your drink from your hands. “That, my love, is quite literally the definition of a liar.”

“Is it?” You ask, sounding smaller and smaller the more you talk. You feel like it, too.

Ellie places the drink beside you as she walks around your shaking body. She steals the burger from your hand as well and carefully dumps it into the take-out bag. You stare at her through all of her motions, especially as she looms over you, her body wriggling over yours and ready to grab your hands. But as she does—grab them—she pulls back. You both laugh, you more than her, causing a scarlet tone to spread across her dotted cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” you chuckle. “It just feels so…”

She violently nods. “Yeah.”

“Anyways”—you shake your head and scramble all of the past few seconds into an amnesiac memory— “tell me what you were going to say.”

She does so as well, and instead settles her hands on your knees. “You are not strange, or crazy, or creepy. You just have a creative mind and a desperate need to know about people. You may not go up to them and flat-out ask what they’re feeling, or if they have kids and a partner and what-not, but you think about it, and you hope they’re okay.” She stares into your eyes now and you stare back. Typically you silently beg for the other to fall tired of staring, but this time you take it in like a warm blanket.

This moment causes you to realize Ellie is different than who you’ve spent time sharing deep secrets with. As she hazily drinks you in and smoothes her thumbs over your knees, softer than anyone has ever handled you, you see how different she is. How different she feels when you think of her. How your body doesn’t empty itself of warmth when you think of your potential 'futures' together.

Ellie feels safe. She is safe. And she loves how you think of every passerby with the same care as you do with friends and family.

You wipe your greasy—and sweaty—hands on your jeans and push her rustled hair behind her left ear. Your thumb glides past her earlobe and ghosts over her jaw.

Ellie leans herself onto your hand, takes her own, and touches every single one of your fingers. She sounds like a horse as she whinnies and rubs her face against your palm.

She continues turning until her lips meet your fingers. She kisses your fingers and slowly opens her mouth, air striking your skin and casting goosebumps along it. Her tongue darts out and licks the pad of your index. You shiver.

You fight to keep your eyes on her but break as Ellie chuckles. A rumbling sounds in the pit of your stomach and instantly, you know you’re in trouble. You look down at your lap and try to cross your legs, but everything down there is far too uncomfortable to do so.

“You okay?” Ellie whispers.

You nod. “Yeah,” you say through nervous laughter. “I just don’t want anyone to catch you falling into your urges, you know?”

“I don’t care,” she whines. “I want to.”

It feels as though a fly catches in your throat. You can barely breathe at how she sounds—whiny, desperate, in need to kiss you… and not just on your thumb. You want to let her do it all to you right now as she stares hungrily into you, her chest rising and her lips puckering. But…to kiss her and deeply taste her when anyone could be peeking through their curtain or getting off as they watch through their car window… You would much rather not.

“I want to, too, El,” you reply. The rest of your sentence tugs at your tongue but you bite down on it.

“But..?”

“But if you want to then I think we should go inside.”

Ellie grabs your face and smashes her lips against yours. She kisses you hard and fast, her teeth closing down on your bottom lip. Her hands wander from your face to your shoulders to your lower back. She sneaks her fingers under your shirt and grasps your skin.

Your mouth parts and a humiliating groan slips out. You shut your mouth by biting down on her lip—as she had done to yours.

Ellie digs her nails into your skin and soon enough, you’re full-on making out—teeth silently clashing, mouths sucking on lips and tongues fighting one another for a kind of flavor only insanely horny folk’ can taste.

“Okay,” Ellie hums against your mouth. “Let’s…” She runs out of breath and you pull away. “Let’s go inside?”

You bite down on your swollen lip and nod. “Mhm-hm,” you answer with a shaken brain and a pulsing center.

Ellie grabs your to-go bags and drinks and slips her hand into yours as she leads you up to your apartment. You slide your key in shake it around, unlocking the door that somehow feels difficult to open. Maybe it’s because you want to fall inside and fuck Ellie’s brains out for the first time already, or you simply forgot how to open doors.

You finally get to open the door and as if you’re on a mission, you pull Ellie inside with enough force to pull her arm out of her socket, and slam the door shut. Poor neighbors you have, but they’ll understand. They see Ellie come by almost everyday, and each time they see her, they raise their eyebrows and cross their fingers, as if to say ‘Today is the day,’ but it never is.

However, tonight… might be the night.

You open your door with your hand desperate to hold hers. You tug her into your room and as if anyone else lives with you, you shut the door. You drop your bag and kick off your shoes. All you can hear is your short and rapid breaths.

“You want to?” Ellie asks after you’ve done kicked your shoes off and have slid out of your jacket.

You look up as your fingers tug at your shirt. Her shoes are off and her jacket is dangling off her pointer finger. You feverishly nod. “Yes,” you spit out. “Yes, I do. I really do. Only if you want to.”

Ellie drops her jacket and hastily makes her way to you. She grips your shirt where you hold it and pulls it up your body. “Up,” she whispers, “please.”

You like it—her attempt at being rough. You say attempt because after she roughly pulls your shirt over your head and tosses it onto the floor, she smoothes your hair down and tenderly kisses you.

You’re left in your black bralette and jeans. Ellie looks down at your body from where you stand centimeters apart (it feels like such). Her breath spreads across your breasts and your nipples harden. You tip your head back and stare at the ceiling as the feeling of Ellie’s fingers appear at the button of your pants.

“Can I take these off?” She asks.

You nod. “Please,” you say, your voice groggy.

She quickly undoes the button and pulls down your zipper. She slides the denim down your legs and kisses your thighs as she does so. You watch her as she does this—how her body slides down, her ass looking great in her jeans, her body almost arching at the taste of your skin.

She aids your legs out of the holes and pushes the jeans away. She stands up again and feels the ridges of your body: the slight jump from your plump thighs to your hips, the stretch marks sliding across your tummy, the groove of your belly button.

Ellie takes her time feeling your body, smelling your skin, dotting hickeys along your hips and space between your underwear and belly button. She groans as she reaches your breasts. Her face appears in front of you as though she wasn’t just at your tits, and she kisses your cheek, her hands palming your breasts through your bra.

You release a strangled moan. You nod and nod, pushing her forward.

She leans down to kiss your tits while her hands work on pushing your bra strap down. You can’t bear standing as she does this to you, so you push her back until her knees hit your bed. You push her down and smile at her as she pushes herself up on her elbows.

“Oh god,” she mutters as she looks at you. “You’re beautiful.”

You blush. “Shut up.”

She shakes her head and swallows, the sound pinging in your ears. “No. C’mere. Please.”

You nod and hop up onto the bed. You straddle her waist and rest your hands on the hem of her shirt. You tilt your head to the side and move your body around atop her. You whimper and she curses beneath her breath. “Why are you still dressed?”

Her mouth opens and you laugh.

“C’mon,” you murmur. You paw at her shirt and begin pulling it up her body. She sits up and lets you take it off. You leave it on the bed and quickly get back at her body—toned and ready for you. Your fingers roam along the band of her bra and find their way under. You cup her tits and run your thumb across her hard nipple. “Does this feel good?”

She chokes out a “Yes,” and rolls her head back. Her hips buck and you continue. You pinch her hardened buds and watch her bite down on her lip and curse louder than you’ve ever heard before. She’s blushing all over, her cheeks fiery red, causing her freckles to hide behind the ferocity. Her chest has become splotchy, and not from any hickeys you’ve imagined giving her. She’s blushing and hot, too—physically hot. Warm to the touch.

"You okay?" You stop to question.

She nods. "Nervous. Horny." Her words and wobbly but flopping out of her mouth in big waves. "Both?"

You chuckle and with the back of your hands, you push her bra up over her sore tits. She blushes harder and you lean down to kiss her lips. "Stop," you hum between pecks. "You’re okay. It’s just me."

"That’s exactly why!" She groans and tilts her head to the side, her eyes rolling as you run your fingers down her body and maneuver your mouth to her tits. Thankfully, Ellie isn’t some masc lesbian who thinks salivating on and over her breasts is atrocious. Currently she’s moaning and humming your name, begging you to keep going.

"I want more," you say, popping your lips off her nipple.

"Wh-what, like… You want me to take my—"

"Take your pants off, yes. And those boxers of yours if you’d like, too."

She swallows and nods. "Yeah. Of course. Just erm… Scoot back a bit."

You pull your legs over hers and unbutton and unzip her pants. You pull them down and as she did to you, you take her feet out and lay her pants to the side.

Now she’s bare. Almost.

You sweep a hand over her thighs and close to her center. A thumb accidentally glides over her clothed clit and she jerks. "God, please," Ellie whines. She slaps her hand over yours and grasps it tightly. “Just…” Her mouth trembles, lips widening and shutting as if she’s either going to cry or… cream her pants. “Skip the extra foreplay. I need you on me.”

You nod and plant a soft kiss on the inside of her thigh. You jump up and pull down your panties. You toss the boring boy shorts onto the flowing pile of clothes and start to crawl onto the bed.

Ellie watches you with wide eyes. Her breath is snug in her throat and her knuckles are white from how tight she’s holding the bed sheets.

You sit beside her—your ass on your heels—and grip her side. From there, you trail down to her navy boxers with a wet spot right on her center. You smirk but send your tongue to fight the inside of your cheek to prevent it from spreading across your face.

Ellie sits up as best as she can and tears off her boxers. She sends them flying somewhere in the room and you both chuckle at the sound it makes. Your mouth drops in a certain wonderstruck you have yet to experience. She’s shaven, only leaving one dark strip.

You nod, ready. You grip her hips and nudge open her thighs. You look into her eyes and move your hands up onto her shoulders. She braces hers on your waist and pulls you up onto her thigh. You lower yourself down onto her and feel the heat of her skin on your pussy. You groan and bite down on your lip.

You look at Ellie as she situates herself beneath you and ask, “Is this okay for you?”

She nods. She rolls her hips against you and you drop your head, your mind already foggy the more she rolls and circles them. You follow her lead, both awkwardly trying to figure out what feels best and how to continue doing that.

Quickly, though, Ellie catches onto the specific way she rolls her hips, pelvic bone slamming into you perfectly. You push a hand down onto Ellie’s clit and circle your fingers around the pulsing bud. She jolts but the movements spur her on. She moves faster and the chord in your lower belly is being pulled taut.

You groans and gasps in the air coming from the both of you leave behind the embarrassment of the first few seconds of heat action. You dig your nails into her hips and take the lead as Ellie slows down.

This… this leaves Ellie gasping and fucking quaking. You roll onto her and slither a hand onto her nipple. You roll her hardened bud between your thumb and index and she arches her back. She digs her hands into the mattress and lets out an ear-shattering moan. You lean down and kiss her breasts. You grasp and lick them, and this drives her crazy.

“Touch me,” she says.

“I am, babe,” you pant.

She grabs your hand and leads it down to her center. She trails your fingers down her slit and groans at the contact of your hot fingers on her clit. You lift your hips in order for her to follow you down right where— “I want you inside me.”

You blush. The redness—not of the heat tinting your skin—chars your cheeks and you skip a breath. “In—inside of you?”

She nods. “Please,” she whines.

You nod and slide a finger inside of her. She’s wet, so easy to slide another in. And you pump your fingers in and out of her, sliding your palm against her clit. You look down at the mess on your hand, then at Ellie’s sex hair and sex face and how red her tits are.

Your core is throbbing. How you are as of now—knuckles deep inside of Ellie, fucking her out of her mind—has you coming yourself. The sound of your fingers against her wet pussy along with how hot she looks writhing beneath you has the chord in your belly ripping.

You gasp at first. You cry out her name and soon enough, Ellie is coming. She shakes and slaps her hand over your wrist. “Keep going,” she begs you. “Keepgoingkeepgoing—“

You do so. And the more you go, the more her legs shake. She presses herself against your palm and soon enough, she comes again. This time, she slowly pulls your hand away with her thighs tight against you fingers. She whines when she fully pulls you away.

She takes that hand and pushes it onto your lips. “Open,” she says, and you do. She slips her fingers into your mouth and you suck her cum off your fingers. “Good. That’s my girl.”

You roll your eyes and pop your mouth off your fingers. “Don’t say that or I’ll sit on your face to shut you up.

She tilts her head with wide eyes and looks up at you. “Is that a threat? Because I surely wouldn’t mind that.”

You push her into the mattress and straddle her waist with sore thighs. You kiss her mouth and suck on every inch of her mouth. “I wouldn’t mind either.”

“Then c’mon,” she says, slapping your ass. “Get on and ride my face darling.”

#ellie williams #elliewilliams x reader #ellie williams tlou #lesbian romance #ellie williams x you #the last of us #oneshot #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams headcanons #ellie the last of us #tlou2 #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x f! reader #ellie fanfiction

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heartfulselkie · 2 years ago

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im sorry youre sick selkie!! i hope you feel better soon 💕

🎀 and 🕯️ for the ask game! (i think there are two questions with the last emoij; i mean the ''was there a fic that was really hard on you to write, or took you to a place you didn't think it would take you?'' one lol)

Thank you!

From the Fanfic Writer Ask Game

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

Hmm... I think I'm good with characterisation? At least, I don't think I make Adrien or Marinette OOC when I write them. And even when they deviate slightly from the show's canon, its within the realm of reason (like Adrien's hero Ladybug persona being slightly different in Kaleidoscope AU since he's a solo hero)

🕯️how do you think engaging with each other through tumblr, twitter, comments, kudos, creates healthy fandom experiences? How do you deal with that if you're not a social person/experience social anxiety?

When people curate their fandom experience and treat each other with respect and kindness, it can really create one of the best experiences of community. There's something really special about obsessing over a piece of media and its characters and find other people who also obsess over it. I've always been really attached to my interests, and IRL I've known other people who've also liked those interests too, but just never to the same extent. Finding other people who like these things just as much as I do is incredibly validating.

I am someone who struggles with crippling social anxiety. Honestly every time I've joined a fandom discord server I have to try not to panic about people welcoming/greeting me. People are just being nice but it's just a reaction I can't help. And there's numerous times when I see a discussion happening and want to join in, but my anxious brain cell stops me (what if i'm misunderstanding the topic? what if i derail the conversation in a bad way? what if i'm interrupting someone else? what if no one actually likes me being here and will get annoyed if I try to join their conversation?? do I just sound selfish if I talk about something I know or do?). It's hard, but when I do persevere through those moments of anxiety my experience has overall been very positive! Being a part of a fandom has only helped me become more comfortable with myself in all sorts of ways. I started drawing a writing again after so many years of not doing it because of the ML fan community! I've found a kind and supportive corner to be comfortable in and I'm so glad to be here even when working through my low moments!

#bugaboooooooooo #ask selkie #ask game

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thesugarhole · 1 year ago

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i always knew from first hand experience and interest in the welcome to the game games that adam was a giant asshole. i dont know if he actually has issues or not (it would unfortunately prove the righteous types of online people that these types of ""disturbed"" games cant be made by ""normal"" people) but im making it explicit now that if he has its not relevant in the slightest to the fact that he is like, just a douche. leagues different from yandev my favorite dev case study sure, but at the same time not that far off (im always saying well at least adam has finished games, then i remember the perpetual limbo of his magnum opus rides with strangers, again not too dissimilar to yansim)

you know, typical douchery like trump hat on twitter, hahaha they hate me cause im trolling im real i dont protect the snowflakes and i dont make easy games if you want easy mode youre getting a pile of shit as an ending (not a direct quote!! its been years!!! i dont remember what he said!! only the vibe of it remained)

i also knew he had a "troll update" to wttg2, but afaik i honest to god thought it was twitch integration and nothing more. at the time i didnt know said integration had mandatory 'ask first' rule, and the troll update was enabled by default.

i recently got a video suggested to me about a guy analyzing if markipliers runs of the game were influenced by adam to be doomed to failure, then talk about what adams update was, then say 'fools! this was the gateway example to talk about the ethics of including such things in games!' which ill admit wasnt really what i clicked the video for but interesting topic nonetheless given what the troll update actually was... a backdoor to edit the game as he saw fit if he felt like it.

THEN i learned he bricked the game of a streamer that had given him copious exposure before because someone asked the streamer what he thought of adam and, like literally everyone else on the planet, the answer was "an asshole".

'im not an asshole! ill prove it by destroying your game in real time! im not an asshole! im not an asshole!' adam shouts as he turns into a pancake

man i dunno. im surprised at mylsef for being surprised hed put a backdoor in the games, given its very inline with both the games subjects and who he is as a person. i was not suprised he used it as petty revenge elon musk style. and im still thinking about the video so thats something. he said he took it out eventually but that was definitely the straw on the camels back for me in terms of ever getting the games to play myself. a true shame, its the type of dumb frustrating fun i tend to enjoy.

as a last somewhat unrelated note adam placing himself as the evil mastermind antagonist in these games that cant be defeated no matter what is also a significant tell of what his personality is like. why not be like sr pelo he got stabbed mid public toilet shit by the villain of the year in last years spooky monthfhhggffdspo sorry.

oh heres the video if theres interest in the contents. i didnt comment on the ethics part of it because i dont have enough experience with it to have a hard stance, but doing such things just to destroy an individual copy of a game over a not very nice comment is a very obvious 'yea dont do that' example.

youtube

heres the video heavily referenced in the previous one where the game bricking happens

youtube

#the maga hat sticks with me because i actually saw it when looking at his twitter rather than being relayed in videos #like i have no idea if someone saved the pic or screenshotted or even archived it #sugar.txt #playing wttg #<- never gonna happen even if i felt like pirating. not worth the effort #Youtube

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this-is-where-i-hide-my-bullshit · 2 years ago

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hey, im the anon that sent the (other) long ask. the stuff on your other blog is fun! and you can definitely see your improvement from then to now. I especially love your sculptures and the potion box you made is so cool.

I second what another anon said about adding lyrics, or maybe some story in the caption to make the art come alive. for example, drawing frank in some speedos would be hot, but adding 'he only goes swimming to stare at lifeguards all day' or something dumb like that turns the art into a character, instead of just frank in speedos. it adds personality to an otherwise flat 2d character. it leaves things to the imagination.

I understand the pressure that wanting to make money from your art puts on you - I want to make money from my writing one day, but I know that in the creative industry it's mostly about luck. I know you've tried Instagram, but have you tried other ways to broaden where you post/the audience you're trying to reach? try posting to twitter for a month, or try making progress posts on tiktok. I know it's shitty, but if you're serious about making money from it you have to throw a lot of shit at the wall and see what sticks. I think looking at what has been successful for you so far and replicating elements from those pieces would be helpful too - what did people say in the tags? what kind of blogs reblogged it? what are other 'popular' artists in the fandom doing?

I know it's so easy to get worn down, and it sounds like you're having a really hard time with this. I'm not your therapist, but I strongly recommend taking some time out of posting if it's affecting you a lot. draw some stuff that you have no intention of anyone else seeing, stuff that you want to keep all to yourself, and see how creating that makes you feel.

you ARE good enough, your art is truly incredible and you've clearly worked hard to get your skill level so high - maybe your posts just need tweaking, or maybe you just haven't found your audience yet. I wish you all the best, and I hope you take this all as constructive ❤️❤️

Thanks.

I don't know about Twitter for the mcr stuff, because the idea of Frank stumbling on all my drawings of him is terrifying. But maybe I could try it with my other stuff, if Twitter doesn't completely fall apart as a website. I've never actually posted on Twitter before so I'd have to learn how exactly it works. And how to avoid the kinda stuff I saw last time I tried checking out mcr stuff on Twitter.

My stuff that does the best seems to be the stuff with some sort of joke or punchline, but I don't know how to be funny on command. I didn't sit down and try to come up with silly ideas, the silly ideas just happened on their own and then I drew them. So if I'm going to try to do more of that then I need to learn how to be funny, without it looking like I'm trying to be funny. Also there's no guarantee that any joke will land, it's a gamble every time. But it at least gives people more motivation to hit reblog.

My problem with comedy is that to be marketable I'd need to be a silly birthday party clown, but I always end up as one of those sad black and white clowns.

I want to try new things, but also there's the fear of "what if this doesn't work? What if I try everything possible and still fail? What do I do then?"

People don't really say much of anything in the tags besides a vague "this is great!", if they even say anything at all. It's hard to guess what they liked about it, if there was even anything in particular they liked and they didn't just reblog it to be nice. It's usually the same few blogs that reblog my work, and I do appreciate it, but sometimes I wonder if I'm not really that good and that's why there isn't a lot of different blogs or blogs that don't already follow me who reblog my stuff.

The popular artists are all drawing Gerard, but I don't think that there's anything I could draw of just Gerard that hasn't already been done better by someone else. I drew Joan of arc Gerard but nobody was all that into it. Probably because I was trying to emulate a specific style from one of my favorite comics and I don't think I did that great of a job. But yeah I don't have any Gerard ideas for drawings, and I'm not a Gerard centric blog so anyone who follows me for that would be disappointed.

I've done little comics with multiple band members but I don't know if doing more of those would help or not. Maybe, but I'd have to come up with ideas. Also it's hard for me to draw Ray and Mikey without accidentally turning then into my brothers because they look similar.

I need to make my drawings less stiff and polished and I meed to be funnier. If that doesn't work then I'll officially be out of ideas.

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courtrecord · 2 years ago

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On twitter sometime ago you described your writing habits as something similar to my own (slow, tedious, perfectionist, compulsive, agonizing over getting the words perfect instead of editing later, etc) And you also wrote a lot of dope things like Galactic 2E and Venture that are I hope you dont mind me saying, deeply inspirational. So coming from someone who hasnt Gotten There yet I have to ask, how do you get yourself to get up and just write the damn thing already?

omg thank u so much, that means more than i can possibly say. i wish i had a better set of advice but honestly so much of my creative work is vibes and hyperfixation based, and every time i finish something i look back on it like “how the fuck did i do that”, but here are the things that work for me. they are very much based on my own particular adhd and writing hangups so ur mileage will definitely vary.

start small: i didn’t start writing ttrpgs with big projects like venture & g2e. i started with a 200 word game, then some one-pagers, then kept growing from there. @jdragsky has talked a lot about the importance of building the skill of finishing things, and small projects are a really good way of doing that. hell, even g2e only exists bc i started with the smaller project of galactic, then went back to it a year later to build on it again.

share as u go: when i started working on bigger games, and this year as i’ve been working on longer fics, friends to share screenshots of my wip have been invaluable. that way i can get the immediate validation of someone reading my thing and giving feedback without feeling like i need to Publish it yet. biggest shoutout in the world to my friends who tolerate my writing nonsense.

write in chunks: this is kind of the combination of those first two points. bob games are big piles of little lists. i tend to write fic in short, impactful scenes. i have a wip that’s an sbr game, which is a big pile of little advances. that way, i am constantly getting that feeling of accomplishment when i write something. i can agonize over word choice and vibes and editing but then i actually get to a stopping point, where i like that little bit enough to move on to the next one. it seems crazy looking back that i wrote 36 places & 36 traits for g2e, but i didn’t just sit down and knock them all out. i wrote a few, sent them to some friends, then i wrote a few more. u know?

don’t force it: sometimes, the vibe just isn’t there. sometimes, u spend a year doing barely any writing or game design bc there’s a pandemic and ur brain doesn’t work anymore. etc. i’ve thought a lot the past few years about the difference btwn the feeling of wanting to write bc i want to write the thing, and the feeling of wanting to write bc i like the idea of being the person who wrote the thing. when i realize i’m in that second mindset, i go and think about something else. bc no good writing comes from that (at least ime)

find what u like: this is kinda related to the one above, but it’s another thing i’ve been thinking about lately. i spent a lot of time when i was younger assuming that bc i like writing, i had to write a novel, bc that’s what writers do. i would try to follow writing advice made for people who simply aren’t me. “writers must learn to use description sparingly” lol way ahead of u. that kinda thing. realizing that i love writing fanfiction for its transformativity, and i love writing dialogue bc it’s what i’m good at, was a huge revelation. i can just do that. i don’t have to follow the regular writer mold when i can just write really fucking good dialogue-heavy fanfiction. and in that realization, i’ve been able to grow as a writer by gaining the ability to write things down that i’m happy with, and grow from there.

prescription adderall: i told u this list was a mess. this one has kinda been crucial for me. i realized i had adhd in my first year of college in 2017 and started taking adderall for my second year of college in mid-2018. i started churning out creative projects in 2019. coincidence? absolutely not oh my god are u kidding

#<333 #i can’t figure out how to put a ‘read more’ thing in on mobile but this isn’t like.. That long right? it’s fine #writing #bumbleeaintme #look people talk to me

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wooahaes · 3 years ago

Text

lonely hearts club [pt.10]

pairing: non-idol!wonwoo x chubby!fem!reader

word count: 2.6k~

warnings: ww + reader both being kinda depressed as hell.

daisy’s notes: n/a because its 5 am when im editing this and im tired lol

summary: With graduation fast approaching, Wonwoo only meant to vent about his feelings to an anonymous Twitter account known for giving people a space to vent and an anonymous way to express themselves. What happens when the person he has feelings for is the same person behind the account... and the same person who thinks he’s in love with their best friend?

< prev || masterlist || next >

Tuesday study group was supposed to proceed as usual, just without you. Something about that made Junghoon feel sick to his stomach. He had barely seen you in days. The shift you worked with him the day before, you barely seemed functioning. Like you were just going through the motions because you had to, even though it was clearly hurting you. Jiyoung said you claimed to be sick that morning when you missed your class, saying you’d email your professor from the safety of your room and try to sleep it off so you could attend your afternoon lectures. Jiyoung said she had refilled your water bottle and left it outside your door with a promise to bring by some soup later--and that pained Junghoon, too. He didn’t have the full story, too afraid to press you for details while the wound was still fresh, but he could piece parts of it together from the situation itself. You’d fallen for Wonwoo, that much he knew, and it seemed to destroy you because you’d convinced yourself he liked Jiyoung despite every sign pointing to the obvious answer.

He knew Eunji didn’t know much--all she knew was that he clearly liked you and Junghoon could only assume that she knew of your feelings, too--and it felt wrong to leave her out of the loop. It felt wrong to not tell Jiyoung, too. Even when she claimed that you must be feeling awful considering you skipped out on dinner as far as she knew, poor thing. He was tempted to text Seungkwan, just to ask him to keep an eye on you when the two of you worked together again in the next day or so. He doubted you’d talk to him, but he at least knew that someone else would be looking out for you... if Seungkwan wasn’t mad at you. He didn’t know what you’d done or said to Wonwoo, but Seungkwan was the kind of person to get defensive over his friends. He’d act cordial enough while working with you, Junghoon knew that, but if he was mad at you...

He pushed the thought aside. He didn’t need to worry about your relationships with anyone at the moment. Seungkwan would be nice in public at the very least. That meant you wouldn’t get any additional stress, hopefully. Junghoon knew that you were at least mostly functioning despite the state you were in. He’d seen you book it back home after most of your classes when he wasn’t stuck in his own, and he knew you were going to work. You were hurting, but you were still making the effort to attend your responsibilities for the most part. You were definitely skipping the two classes you had with Wonwoo, but you were still attending the others. He could work with that for the time being. Finals were fast approaching, but you were smart. You could figure things out once your head was clear. You couldn’t keep running away forever, and he knew you wouldn’t. You’d bounce back. You always did, and Junghoon had faith in you--even if you needed the helping hand to come back.

But he kept thinking back to when all of this had started. Whatever Wonwoo said to you had to have been vague enough that you thought it was about Jiyoung, right? If he’d referred to you by name, you wouldn’t have hatched this idea to begin with. Maybe you’d get flustered and Junghoon could have pushed you to talk to him, because he still saw how happy you’d been when it came to interacting with Wonwoo. This could have worked out naturally, maybe. Or maybe you’d still need a push to talk to him. If he could turn back time, he would. Junghoon couldn’t say that you and Wonwoo would have ended up together or even stayed together, but at least he could have set things right.

He arrived early for that study group, staring at the video game design work he was supposed to be working on. Jiyoung and Eunji would be there in half an hour, and that gave him time to think for a bit. You’d already said you weren’t coming and that going to class just made you feel worse. Jiyoung had texted the group chat she’d definitely get you soup before she came home, to take it easy (because she was Jiyoung and she was sweet, and Junghoon knew that only made you feel more guilty). He’d written something about how he was always a text or a call away, because he was. Even when he was against this idea, Junghoon would have come running if you’d asked him to. That was what best friends were for.

The sound of a chair being pulled out jolted him from his thoughts, and he looked up to see Kim Mingyu taking a seat.

“You’re Junghoon.” Mingyu hadn’t asked, and he nodded toward the library assistant--Hyunwoo, on duty yet again. “He said you always sit here with your friends to study together.”

(Mingyu also knew because of what Wonwoo had told him, but he left that out. Wonwoo said your group always sat at one specific table when you could, and Mingyu had seen Junghoon’s picture when seeing your Twitter.)

Junghoon merely nodded. “Yes?”

“You’re friends with Sunny?” He asked, waiting for Junghoon to nod again. “I’m Mingyu, Wonwoo’s friend--”

“She doesn’t want to see any of you right now,” Junghoon immediately said. If he wasn’t saving this table for his group, he’d gather his things and leave right then and there. “Please don’t bother her.”

“I’m not going to,” Mingyu rested his elbows on the table. Junghoon had heard about him a few times--he’d overheard people whispering about his handsome face and warm personality. He could see it when Mingyu gave him what Junghoon assumed were one of those dashing grins meant to put him at ease. “I just need to know if she likes Wonwoo back.”

Oh. Huh. Well...

Junghoon looked back at his phone. He still had twenty-five minutes until Jiyoung and Eunji arrived, and he had no intention of outing your feelings to them yet. With a sigh, he looked back up at Mingyu. “This stays between us,” he said, and then continued on after pushing his laptop shut to eliminate the distraction. “I’ve known Sunny since we were both sixteen and on the same online forum. I know what she’s like when she has a crush on someone. She likes Wonwoo, but she’s not going to act on it until she figures it out for herself.” He left off the part where he knew you’d convinced yourself that Jiyoung liked him somehow. He’d have to figure out how to broach the subject. “Just give them both a few more days. She needs to deal with this on her own before she’s ready to let anyone else back in.”

Mingyu had nodded along, taking in every word. “That’s all I wanted to know,” he said, and paused when he turned to get up and leave. He leaned in, speaking in a low voice, “She runs lonelyhartsclub, doesn’t she?”

Shit. Junghoon hesitated, averting his gaze. If he denied it outright, Mingyu would know. “I’m not going to confirm that,” he settled on a moment later.

Which was just as bad, but at least he didn’t say it. “Can I...?” Mingyu said, picking up the pencil that’d rolled away from Junghoon. Without a word, Junghoon slid his open notebook over, watching Mingyu write out his number at the top of the page. “Text me later. I think we both need to work something out.”

“That’s extremely ominous,” Junghoon said, narrowing his eyes at Mingyu as the guy stood up to leave.

“Do you want your best friend to be happy?” Mingyu asked.

Junghoon nodded.

“Me too.”

And Mingyu left, leaving Junghoon to look down at the number neatly scrawled out on his paper. He rolled his eyes, wondering why Mingyu didn’t just ask for his phone considering it was sitting right next to him, but opened up his contacts nonetheless. He’d text him when he got home that night. That’d give him enough time to figure out what he needed to say--both to Mingyu and to his friends. Eunji would believe and understand easier than Jiyoung would, but everyone knew Jiyoung could be oblivious when it came to things like this.

Junghoon opened your contact and texted you one last time before the others arrived, asking for you to take care of yourself and to let him know if you needed anything at all. He knew you were hurting, especially if you thought that Jiyoung was going to hate you when she found out that you liked Wonwoo. Even if your fears were unfounded, it had to be hard. Junghoon felt powerless to help you as things stood, which meant he needed to talk to Mingyu and figure out how they can actually help you and Wonwoo find your happy endings.

You’d defended everyone’s right to a happy ending once, actually. You’d been talking about books, but Junghoon would defend yours, too. That’s what friends were for.

You’d missed class again that Thursday. Junghoon had texted Mingyu late Tuesday night, offhandedly mentioning that you’d missed just the classes you had with Wonwoo and nothing else. When Mingyu brought it up in the broken heart group chat, Minghao confirmed it. Wonwoo had kept looking at the door both days, like he was just waiting for you to come in. But then you never did, and Wonwoo became quieter than usual. More despondent, too. Like he’d had the life sucked out of him, the sun extinguished and the world cold again. He’d barely spoken to him after class, saying he’d rather go study before his next class. If he was eating, no one knew it--Mingyu had to practically drag him out of his room for dinner just so he knew that Wonwoo was getting some sort of meal in him. He knew heartbreak could fuck with a person like that, and it was up to Mingyu and the rest of the group to make sure Wonwoo stayed in good health.

Wonwoo had shut him out, though. He barely spoke to him when he did, he barely picked at his food when Mingyu tried to rope him into “taste-testing” (lies, that time, but Wonwoo didn’t have to know that), and he avoided going out unless he was going to class or work. Soonyoung had managed to drag him out of the apartment that Wednesday. It was a minor victory and the most alive Mingyu had seen him in days, the hint of a smile dying on his lips soon after he returned home.

Mingyu trusted Junghoon when he said you were the same: like a walking corpse, pain weighing your every action and keeping you quiet and dim rather than the sunshine-y person that he’d met that once. It sounded like both you and Wonwoo were just going through the motions of being alive. Seungkwan purposefully switched shifts with a coworker to work with you again one day, just to keep an eye on you. Vernon had gone in to see you, and confirmed that you acted as if everything was fine when you were around him. You were still sneaking him cookies with his orders, a plastered-on smile to greet him as you quickly busied yourself with work again.

Junghoon told him that he’d talk to Jiyoung and Eunji while you were at work that Friday. He was going to tell them everything and see what they said.

Mingyu had been busy practicing something for his upcoming practical when Wonwoo emerged from his room. He carried himself differently, the air already tense when Mingyu looked up and read the silent, building anger on his face.

“Where are my books?”

Mingyu blinked in surprise. “Hm?”

“The books she bought me,” Wonwoo said, knuckles pressed into the counter. “I can’t find them.” His tone was icy and knowing: no one else had access to his room. No one else would move them without saying something.

“In my desk drawer--”

Wonwoo stalked off immediately, heading into Mingyu’s room without a second thought. Mingyu looked down at what he’d been doing, thankfully just in the middle of prep work that he could put on pause. He rinsed off his hands quickly enough before making his way over, wiping his palms on his jeans. Wonwoo practically shoved past him as he left his room, the books in his hands as he went to return to his room. If Mingyu hadn’t caught the door, it would have definitely slammed as Wonwoo sat down, looking through both copies for anything that could be missing.

“I thought leaving them out would just make you feel worse,” Mingyu said, leaning against the door frame. “You didn’t notice until today.”

“You could have put them in a drawer,” Wonwoo didn’t look at him, eyes skimming a pink sticky-note that he’d pressed in next to the blue ones. Secondary thoughts. He’d already read the book twice: blue were for a first reading, pink were a second, and orange would have been for a third if he ever needed to take further notes. “They’re still important to me.”

He could tell. Mingyu didn’t say it, but he did flip through them idly once. He saw the notes in the poetry book, some written in the book itself (something Wonwoo was always so against because it felt more personal to mark up a book like that) about how much some of the poems meant to you.

“I’m sorry I took them,” he said. “Have you talked to her?”

Wonwoo shook his head. He shut the books, still not meeting Mingyu’s gaze. “She wants to be left alone. She’s skipping class because of me.”

“Which is why you should talk to her,” Mingyu said. “Finals are soon. She can’t keep missing class.”

Mingyu was right. But...

... What would Wonwoo even say to you? That he was sorry he kissed you? That it was fine if you didn’t feel the same way, that he just misunderstood the entire situation and he never intended to make you uncomfortable? He’d thought wrong and that was it. His friends had hyped him up and that had gone straight to his head and made him think that he actually had a chance with someone like you. Someone pretty and warm and loving in a way that made him feel safe and at home. He’d felt love before, but not like this.

If eternal love took the form of a person, then that truly was you. You’d always have one part of his love tied to you, no matter how far away he went. That was the funny thing about love: you gave up parts of yourself for someone else. Wonwoo might always see you in the books he’d read, in the stores he passed, in the world itself. One day the pain would fade, but his love would always rest with you whether you knew it or not. He tried to think of what the Twitter account would say. Part of him wanted to message it, even if the person running it was on a break. But what could they say to comfort him? That it was okay to be hurt, that they were sorry for encouraging him? That love was a leap of faith and sometimes you fall but it’ll all be okay?

They said falling was the best part of love. If it was, then the impact of hitting the ground was the worst.

taglist: [ask to be added!] @yoongischeeksluv @rebelspy @mystiicturtle @hwashiningstar @x-veex @nothingbutadeadesceane @cersti-mo0

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x y/n #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x you #wooahaes.lhc

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cdroloisms · 4 years ago

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hey pspsps i found this thing n twitter and i cant get it out of my head,, so dreams escape right? and sapnap said that he'd be the one who'd take dreams last life rgiht? so imagine if he gets ant, bad and george and tells them "its the final manhunt" (:

im ngl the name of this on my document was “the final manhunt *offkey kazoo*”

with that, have some good ol’ post-prison c!dream angst! probably not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway :D

tw: implied torture, abuse, dark portrayals of c!sam and c!quackity, suicide/suicide implications, panic attacks, emotional distress, emotional instability, death threats, violence, flashbacks, pandora’s vault/prison arc

When Dream escapes the prison, he is a frothing thing of spite and rage, one part human and ninety-nine parts determination simmered and condensed over high heat; there is anger and then there’s this, the fire that leaps to his eyes and the shaking shreds of a battered heart he holds close to his chest and refuses to let anyone close enough to see. He moves and the server moves with him, tugged along by his iron will and sweat-slick desperation, joining in the brilliant blue whirl of a diamond axe swung recklessly and slammed into the dirt, an aimless fury following each formless drive of the blade into grass and gravel. The air sings danger and the air sings wrong and every step closer brings a ringing scream of away away go away that dances like static electricity against their skin.

Puffy follows, cutlass strapped to her hip and hair tucked messily beneath the rim of her cornet as the group advances - someone had alerted over comms about seeing the escaped prisoner in this direction, and they’d all jumped forward in the hopes that the weeks-long manhunt could finally be ended. Sapnap leads the way, headband whipping behind him as he strides forward, jaw clenched in fierce determination; George brings up the rear, bow in hand, a full quiver of arrows strapped to his back. Puffy’s running alongside Sam, who has been strangely tight-lipped the entire time Dream has been gone, firm in his insistence that the prisoner be detained but saying little else - it’s something that she would pry at, usually, but her head is filled with half-formed regrets and fears and a bubbling undercurrent of anger she’s afraid will come loose if she opens her mouth, so she stays silent as they run ever forward.

Sapnap yells, and her head snaps up - there, in the tall grass of a plains biome lies a flash of orange that must be Dream. The hunters around her speed up and she strains to follow; the other three are clearly experienced, easily falling into step with each other as she scrambles to keep up. Dream’s head snaps over towards them and he begins to sprint, cutting a line through the yellow field as they race to follow. She’s not seen him since the prison break, has only heard the whispers- an orange clothed monster, all bones and skin and uncaged fury, a diamond axe heaved in his arms slamming against anything that comes too close. It’s hard to rationalize this untamed, unrefined dash to the unwavering calm that she had always associated with his style of fighting, his movements much more like the life-or-death escape of a hunted rabbit than any hunter’s dog. It’s hard to rationalize this Dream with the one she knows- but well, she’s gotten used to that.

It took her far too long to admit, but she’s come to realize that she doesn’t quite know Dream at all.

He leads them forward to the shorter grass and harsher dips and planes of a savannah, the sun beating down in slanting heat against the backs of their necks. The ground they’re standing on begins to shatter into steep cliffs and jagged mountains, rough edges of stone climbing into the sky all around them. Sapnap curses, shading his eyes against the sun.

“He’s going up there,” he says, and George sends arrows flying towards the orange dot blurring across the steep face of a nearby mountain. Sam grumbles as Puffy strains to catch sight of him, watching his scrambling movements up the cliff face to the top.

“Then we follow,” he says, pulling a stack of ender pearls from his inventory. “Each person take a few. We’re too close to lose him now.”

The climb is anything but pleasant, the sun right overhead and making sweat gather at her hairline and drip down her face. Even as a sheep hybrid, she struggles to keep pace with the other hunters as they race over thin paths of granite and clamber up near-vertical faces of stone with little problem, clearly practiced as they follow Dream without breaking their sprint. The rock gives way to dirt and tufts of short-shorn grass and Sapnap’s eyes flash.

“Be careful,” he says, looking straight at her. “He’s cornered - that’s when he does risky shit without thinking about the consequences. He knows you’re the least experienced here and there’s a good chance that he’s going to charge you. If that happens, hold your shield and just block. We’ll handle him from there.”

She swallows back the spark of indignation that rises at his words, a bitter scream that they only see her as a liability dying out as she reminds herself that these three had hunted Dream professionally before, had struggled even with two more at their sides. The caution is far from unwarranted.

“I understand.”

Sapnap nods tersely and looks to the other two with a hand movement that she doesn’t understand. The other two immediately start moving, Sam moving to the front, George nocking an arrow as he takes his place at the rear - they’re still shielding her, she realizes with a small spike of annoyance again, shaking her head and drawing her own cutlass as Sapnap leads the way for them to swing up onto the top of the mountain.

It takes her a moment to adjust; the wind, unhindered by the cliffs that had been shielding them seconds before, whips at her face and draws tears to her eyes, makes her hair fly wildly into her face. Through narrowed eyes, she watches as the figure on the other side of the mountaintop scrambles backwards, diamond axe braced in front of him as he backs to the opposite edge.

“Dream,” Sapnap calls, voice deadly calm. “You’re cornered. Stand down.”

Dream shakes his head, lips curling in a wordless snarl. The sound is desperate, almost inhuman, making Puffy’s hair stand on end. As her vision clears, she stops dead in her tracks despite herself - Dream looks awful. She’d expected him to look disheveled after his escape, hadn’t expected much comfort in his stay in the Vault, but the way he looks, now, hollow eyes and gaunt cheeks and skinny, shaking limbs that only barely seem to be able to hold up his weight, bandages covering every visible inch of skin, wrapped messily around his right arm as if done by one hand - she reaches forward unconsciously and Dream flinches back.

“Don’t-” his voice rasps, cracks, falls in on itself as he wets his lips to try and speak again. “Don’t come closer.”

“Prisoner,” Sam growls, stepping forward, and he turns those wild, fever-bright eyes towards the creeper hybrid, flailing backwards and knuckles white from the grip on his axe. His breathing visibly hitches, head whipping back and forth.

“Don’t come closer,” he hisses again, stepping back, and Puffy stills.

“Sam-” she grabs his sleeve. “Sam- don’t. He’s at the edge.”

Dream’s gaze swings to her, and her heart stutters at the uncaged, obvious fear raging in his eyes. He’s backed to the very back edge of the mountain they’re standing on, left foot halfway off, sending dirt skidding over and off of the cliff down down down to the ground hundreds of feet below. The three hunters stop, muscles tensed, and Dream bares his teeth at them but doesn’t back away further.

His shoulders sag as they stand, stagnant, each huddled on their own side of the mountaintop. His gaze is venomous, green eyes burning even in the glaring light of the sun, flicking warily between their faces as he holds the axe between them.

“So you came,” his voice is tight, a slight tremble pulling at the end despite his seeming bravado. “Here to finish the job, huh?”

Sapnap pulls back his shoulders. “I made a promise, Dream.”

Dream laughs, bitter. His left hand releases on the axe handle to come to his chest, grabbing at his right, looking almost like he’s trying to hold himself. His laughter tapers off into something weak and wrecked, and the sound makes Puffy’s heart clench uncomfortably in her chest.

“Figures you’d keep that one,” his head tips up, looking Sapnap in the eye. “What- did your fiance give up? The revive book not worth the effort anymore?”

Sapnap hisses. “Don’t bring Karl into this-”

“Karl?” Dream’s eyes flash, grip tightening on his upper arm. “No- what? Why-”

“Dream.” Sam’s voice is low, something dark buzzing behind his tone, “Don’t-”

Puffy interrupts him with a hand to his shoulder, stepping forward and freezing mid-step when Dream’s head whips to her, eyes widening and foot scraping against the edge of the cliff again.

“Sapnap, Sam, let him talk,” she levels her gaze at Dream, trying to pick out the emotions warring behind those brilliant green eyes. “Not Karl- you’re talking about Quackity then, right?”

Sam hisses, “Puffy, I don’t think this is a good idea-”

Dream laughs.

The sound is grating, awful, making her hands come to her ears. It rips through skin, wraps around bone, seeps into marrow - he’s laughing, axe disappearing into his inventory so he can clutch his face with both hands, the loose sleeves of his prison uniform falling to his elbows to reveal the bandages wrapping all the way up his forearms and disappearing further under the fabric. In front of her, Sapnap falters, grip on his sword loosening; George steps back, eyebrows wrinkled, bow lowering. Dream laughs like the world is ending, and some cold, hardened thing in her chest shatters at the sound.

“You know,” his hands claw at his hair, wrapping around the strands and pulling, “You know you know you know- you have to know. How-” He shakes his head, tugging at his hair harshly and making Puffy wince at the sight, “Don’t- don’t play stupid here.”

“Know what?” George reaches forward, hands empty, palms up like he’s approaching an injured dog. From the way Dream snaps at the sound, hackles raised and teeth bared, he might as well be one. “Dream, what are you talking about?”

Sapnap looks stricken, still, face clouded in a way that Puffy can’t decipher. “Q- don’t play your mind games here, Dream,” despite his words, he sounds uncertain. Puffy hasn’t seen Quackity around for a while, had thought that he was staying at Sapnap and Karl’s new place. From the way Sapnap’s eyes have darkened, it looks like she assumed wrong. “Quackity hasn’t even been around, what does he have to do with any of this?”

Dream shakes his head again, seemingly stuck in his own head, barely even responding to their words. “You know- you know you know you know- Sam knows- you-” His breath hitches, chest heaving, and Puffy blinks. He’s having a panic attack, a clinical, much more calm part of her says as Dream seems to collapse in on himself. “You know. You have to know he wouldn’t- nobody came if you didn’t know then why didn’t you come if you didn’t know then why did Sam let him in you know you know you know-”

“Sam?” George turns to Sam, hands curling into fists and then uncurling again and again, “Do you know what he’s talking about?”

Sam’s expression is unreadable, ignoring George as he looks back at Dream. “Prisoner,” and has he called him by his name, yet? “Come with us calmly and your punishment will be lightened. There’s nowhere to run. Give up.”

Dream keens, a high-pitched whine exiting his lungs, “I won’t- I won’t tell,” his voice cracks, tears clearly running down his cheeks, “I won’t tell you Quackity I won’t-”

“Sam,” Puffy turns to the hybrid. “I think you should go.”

“Puffy-”

“He’s having a panic attack, Sam. He’s hardly going to do anything.” She levels a glare at him, sheathing her cutlass at her side. “I’m perfectly capable of defending myself, and I’ve promised to help anyone having a mental health crisis on the server.” Something dark and traitorous whispers how she’d given up on Dream before, and she pushes it down.

“He’s a danger to everyone on the server.”

“Sam- he’s not fucking breathing right now on the edge of a cliff. He’s not a danger to anyone but himself.”

“She’s right, Sam,” Puffy’s head snaps to George. He’s looking at her, expression hidden behind his glasses, lips pressed together in a small frown. “Puffy, we’ll be waiting. You or Sapnap call if you need back-up.”

She nods tersely, watches as Sam gives in and follows George down the mountain, the hybrid’s red eyes still staring at Dream as he leaves. Sapnap seems distracted, hardly acknowledging their exchange with his eyes fixed on Dream’s crumpled form, emotions clearly warring over his face, and Puffy brushes past him to get to her patient- Dream.

“Dream,” she speaks, not moving forward when his shoulders seize. “Dream, I won’t move closer unless you want me to,” she enunciates the words clearly, watching his face for any flash of recognition or understanding. He shakes his head minutely at her words, arms trembling, but he doesn’t move closer to the edge. “Can you hear me?”

He nods jerkily, and she smooths the palms of her hands on her pants, trying to calm the race of her heart in her chest.

“Good, very good,” years of training, habit, flood her head, pushing away the buzzing unease and fear and tangled knot of dark feelings that linger every time she sees Dream’s face, “I need you to breathe for me, okay? We’re going to inhale for four- there you go,” she counts, watching the shuddering movement of his chest as he struggles to replicate her movements, “Very good, hold for four, there you go- you’ve got this-”

Slowly, painfully, the rattle of his lungs in his chest becomes something quieter, more manageable, no longer rising and falling in desperate arrhythmic wheezes that make her chest hurt in sympathy. She’s still kneeling there, hands palms-up when he looks up at her, eyes wide, a degree of lucidity having returned to them, and for a moment a flash of fear stabs through her heart.

She swallows it down, pulling forward every ounce of professionalism she can muster. “Dream,” she keeps her voice low and soft, biting her lip at the way he freezes, again, at the call of his name. “Dream, can you step away from the edge?”

His hands clutch at the line of grass and dirt that make up the sod overhang, knuckles white. His eyes keep staring in hers, wide and wet and green, and she shushes him softly under her breath.

“It’s ok, take your time,” she breathes, watching as his hand inches forward bit by bit, gaze still fixed on her face, “It’s okay, Duckling.”

She blinks, and there’s a whirl of orange flying towards her chest; Sapnap shouts behind her, and panic blooms in her head too quickly for her to pick out anything but a desperate little oh god I’m going to die-

The blow never comes.

Instead, she looks down, heart in her throat, at a sobbing, shaking lump pressed against her chest, head buried in the crook over her neck as dirty, tangled hair falls in waves over her shoulder. She freezes, watching as his shoulders shake, hands tangled in her shirt sleeve, barely able to hear the words he’s saying over his wails and her heart thudding in her ears.

“Please don’t bring me back,” he pleads, voice cracking, “Please- please I don’t wanna go back please tell Sapnap to make it quick please I can’t go through another Quackity visit please Puffy don’t let them send me back-”

“Dream-”

“I’ll- I won’t fight, I pr’mise, Sapnap can keep his promise it’s okay I won’t fight anymore I’m-” he keens, high-pitched and mangled, into her shoulder, “I’m so tired Puffy.”

“Duckling,”

“Don’ make me go back, please.”

Puffy pulls him back, presses her hand on his cheek, murmuring softly. And- maybe she shouldn’t be doing this, maybe Dream’s a danger just like Sam said, maybe she’ll come to regret helping him the same way she had before - but right now he’s in pain and he’s crying and he’s closer than he’s been in so, so long and all she can see is her duckling, hurting, her duckling, home.

“Dream,” she brushes her thumb against his cheek, smooths a lock of hair behind his ear. “What happened in there?”

And he begins to speak.

#tw torture #tw abuse #c!quackity critical #c!sam critical #not really for either but they are portrayed dark #tw suicide #tw suicidal thoughts #tw panic attack #tw emotional distress #tw emotional instability #tw death threats #tw violence #tw flashbacks #long post #my writing :D #my asks !!

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nightswithkookmin · 3 years ago

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chile i'm so glad i came across your blog, the amount of "i'm not going to assume they're dating" or "we can only draw certain conclusions but i can't say for sure" "we don't know their sexuality, BUT" type blogs i follow is getting kinda wack lmao. while i appreciate their perspective and nuanced takes i need to strike a balance. like let's get a lil delulu every once in a while. 💀

lol the im-not-a-shipper-but-call-jikook-boyfriends-every-other-post blogs are the funniest to me. the shipping hierarchy, so to speak is so weird. maybe just because im not a "shipping real people is bad" person i don't see the big deal. gonna get called delulu anyway, might as well go full out. they is gay/queer and they're fucking. i'm so sorry.

*also can we touch on the fact that shipping in this type of fandom (kpop) is kind of inevitable and unavoidable??! these boys are the other people we see them with day in and day out, interacting with each other and no one else. i feel like it's natural to ship when there's no other people around to break up everything, idk maybe someone can articulate this better than me. and people who are made to feel stupid for thinking that 2 members could actually be dating is so dumb. like is it really out of the realm of possibility that two people (jikook, cause all them other ships are....😬) who spent almost every waking minute together for like 8 years could fall in love. really?

/rant

It's the delulu hat for me

Lmho.

I guess for me being queer, I feel it's gaslighting for these people to be saying things like that. As silly as it is, it inadvertently deny and invalidate the existence and queerness of gay individuals and so I struggle with it.

This is the consequences of straight people in gay people business. They like defining gay parameters for us and it's like who asked you?? I feel people who say things like that are just plain ignorant or tone deaf or willfully homophobic.

I don't think everyone in BTS is gay but it makes me feel safe to see half the community assume them to be and celebrate them in that way. They are not cussing at them and threatening to leave the fandom or cancel them for this assumption and that is huge inspiration to me.

Those parts of the fandom are a safe space to be in as a queer army.

When people assume a person's queer sexuality they are simply admitting to themselves at the very least that LGBTQ EXISTS. This is important to me because I grew up in a community where LGBTQ didn't even exist in the collective consciousness of the people and EVERYONE IS AUTOMATICALLY ASSUMED TO BE STRAIGHT AND EXPECTED TO BE.

People read people's sexuality all the time and have done so since time immemorial and a lot of the time when they have had a sexuality read it's in the lines of straight, cis, rich, poor, superior or inferior. And that is a problem for some of us too because that discrepancy in the assumptions is as a result of homophobia and heteronormativity.

That whole don't assume a person's queer sexuality debacle sounds to me like a boujee way of denormalizing and preventing the normalization of queerness disguised under care, disguised under intelligence and disguised under wokeness. Especially when straightness is the default setting in this giant blue bulb.

We need to radicalize that. We need to change the cis straight default setting and if you are perpetuating this narrative you really aren't helping the situation. SIT DOWN.

I'm rarely assumed to be queer in certain circles and while that makes me feel comfortable within those circles it often times make it hard for me to admit my queerness openly in those circles too because I fear I will lose that comfort and respect and love and privileges that comes with being percieved straight in those spaces.

When I started my blog, I noticed some people assumed I was white and would use certain black descriptors as slurs when describing other people to me. I quickly had to switch the formal way in which I wrote to a much casual tone so my blackness would show through. Don't get it twisted. She black. She blackidy black black.

Then on the other hand, I was hesitant to let my queerness be known too because being black, I was marginalized as it is- you is black, or sound black💀 you know how it is- it's that intersectionality of oppression at play. Double double homicide.

When certain people realized I was black POC minority, their attitude towards me changed. I had those who didn't so much understand what black language is or perhaps wasn't used to being in black spaces and were uncomfortable with my blackness- these would take offense at me saying certain things in certain ways. Like chilee relax Karen, all I said was these motherfukkers gay as shit and they gay. Why you acting like I called them twinks or sommin. Right there, I'm cancelled for calling Jikook motherfuckers. They get sirens and everything😭😭😭😭😭😭

Same vein, I struggle destraightening myself or correcting people who assume I'm straight because I fear they will treat me differently if they knew I wasn't.

Straight privilege exists in the same way as white or even pretty privilege may exist and because these exist there's that automatic conception of queer, poc, ugly, fat disemfranschismet to run along side it.

People treat you differently based on how they perceive you. That's a fact. And for queer people, perceiving us as straight is the only way we get to be treated as human by the masses. And a lot of us embrace that- straight until proven gay am I right 🤣🤣🤣🤣

It's the duper's delight for me. Untill you catch me with a 5'8 melanin skinned silk pressed auntie on my left nipple good luck proving I'm gay.

It can be fun, I akekeke when some people around me are totally oblivious to the fact and even sometimes defend my straightness with their dying breath when nasty friends throw them shades or try to out me unprovoked.

A lot of us don't want to admit we are gay because we don't want to be disenfranchised.

I speak for myself when I say this.

But 'Don't assume someone's sexuality' is a double edged censorship used for and against queer people. It seemly offers protection on the surface of it for queer people but underneath it promotes heteronormativity and standardizes straightness and it is also used to promote closet culture, under the disguise of care and concern for the autonomy of queer people but that is a fallacy because our autonomy has never mattered to anyone since the dawn of homophobia.

And I don't know where this interpretation comes from. Why do people not want to assume queer people's sexuality but it's ok to assume straight people's???

It feels like a hijacked movement to me.

THIS IS THE ACCURATE MOVEMENT AS FAR AS I'M CONCERNED.

Don't assume all people are straight. It's ok to assume some people are queer because queer people exists too.

It is wrong however to assume queerness based on how a person talks, walks, dresses or even on their body type. That is stereotyping. And stereotyping is wrong.

When it comes to Jikook, Jimin is often stereotyped as gay more so than Jungkook because they have different body structures. Jungkook is stereotyped too solely because of the way his wrists hang, or based on moments he's femininity shines through.

But I don't think shippers stereotype Jikook in that way at all. I dont think shippers believe Jikook are dating eachother simply because Jungkook applied setting powder to his face that one time. They assume they are gay only because they believe those two to be dating eachother. That is not stereotyping. If those two were heterosexuals I don't think people will accuse their shippers of stereotyping.

It's one thing to assume Kai is gay because he looks skinny and dances well. It's another to assume he is gay because in a relationship with Gdragon. And if people can't tell the difference between the two, they should get some education and stop talking about things they know nothing about or only know because they stumbled across user69 on Twitter. They are not helping.

Untill people get offended when people assume others are straight, that rhetoric doesn't matter in its inequality. If you ask me, everyone is gay until proven straight.

Yet how many people will take offense at that?

Assuming people can be gay is not delulu.

It's ok to assume people can be gay. It's wrong to stereotype them as gay. If you can't assume they are gay, don't assume they are straight and don't assume at all. Run with this sis.

Wait, they don't ship Jikook but they call Jikook boyfriends???????👀👀👀👀👀

The fake woke syndrome will kill people in this fandom with these mentally confused thought crisis bunch💀💀💀💀

Jikook themselves are shippers💀

Smh

GOLDY

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sportyclown · 4 years ago

Text

how sawamura, miyuki, yuki, and kuramochi text (friends + s/os)

will most likely do a part 2 with more boys at a later date! these got freakishly long because i am, at my core, a very mad. also might revisit as i get re-familiar with the characters, i just had this idea floating around in my head. also the way these got pro

sawamura eijun

no matter who he texts, it’s always extremely extra. not only does he always give more information than you asked for – ex. if you text him wya? he will give you a play by play of his entire route or something

he also uses tons of emoticons. and yes I do mean emoticons, baby boy has a flip phone. ifhe does eventually get a smart phone, then this boy overuses tf out of emojis. he’s the sort of person that sees someone use a combination of emojis he likes and then tries to copy them, but uses it completely incorrectly, but its v cute.

if you send him a meme, he will respond with an unnecessary amount of hahas.

when he’s texting his lil bae, they’re always on his mind so he ofc texts them every thought that comes to his mind! when he sees something that reminds him of you, he won’t hesitate to share it with you.

if you have been together for a long time, then we will definitely text you words of affirmation and be very honest/blunt about how he feels about you. he’s also always sure to ask you about your day - and he seriously cares. but i still i feel like with a s/o he would prefer facetime to texting just because he likes to see you :)

overall, a very adorable texter and his enthusiasm is just as contagious when texting as it is in person. he’s kind of clueless so he doesn’t pick up on subtext. so be blunt, just like he will be with you~

kuromochi youichi

my bias might be showing here, but I feel like he is one of the most well-adjusted boys in terms of being ready for a serious relationship tbh (at least post-high school). i mean we all saw that he regularly corresponded with wakana wish that were me lmao

i think he would most often use proper capitalization, but not to the point where he uses a period after every text

would send his friends news articles about his favorite fighting games where u like gaming or not

a meme fiend in general. the sort of person who uses reaction images of people he knows. (if you’re dating, he would still have a stash of funny pics/screenshots of you on ft, but he’d ofc only use them with you <3). his convos with his friends are rarely serious

i don’t think he’d be the type to text haha out loud, but he does use LOL on occasion. with close friends/his lil bae he might send a voice memo of him laughing hysterically if you send him something REALLY funny. ugh my annoying king <3

unlike eijun he’s the king of being perceptive / picking up subtext.

similarly, i do think he’s pretty reliable, but for friends i feel like he might make a lil bit of a stink lmao. like lets say a friend wants him to pick something up for them, he might play like he won’t do it then miraculously shows up with the requested item. its giving tsundere vibes on the low.

with his partner: i feel like he would use emojis when he’s trying to be ~cute~. i think with a established partner he’d be pretty flirty still but he’s v much whipped for his partner so its way more mushy than it would be early in the relationship.

yes your name has hearts/stars in his phone. mans is a SAP for you

his love language is more quality time imo, so I think he values time spent with you over texting time. so a lot of your texts might be asking you to come over to hang out / get a meal or vice versa

like eijun he wants to hear about YOU, and is very supportive and good at advice when he wants to be. he can be goofy but this is how he shows you he cares/sees you as more than a friend

he’s a blushy/shy boy with his s/o esp early in the relationship, so he might be hesitant or nervous to say “i love you” or anything like that outright, but you know anyway, which just makes the times when he does outright say it that much sweeter.

miyuki kazuya

i mean it goes without saying that this man is snarky. he’s not a meme king himself but he enjoys when people send them to him and will usually play off the meme to make his own jokes.

i feel like he also likes deep-fried memes or the very abstract, post-modern memes. miyuki is good at making other people laugh, but he has a generally very-off brand humor and the things that make him cackle hardest are either at someone else’s expense (very similar to kuramochi, so they bond a lot over that) or just indiscernible without access to a huge layer of context/background

saves the reaction photos kuramochi sends him, but doesn’t usually use them. but seeing an ugly pic of eijun yelling never fails to make him grin LMAO

i think he also texts A LOT about baseball, even more so than these other baseball dummies. texts his teammates a lot of articles he reads or clips from games/cool plays. this is mostly about texts, but in terms of social media I think miyuki uses twitter/instagram the most especially for baseball related reasons, while kuramochi uses snapchat the most.

he probably texts a lot about baseball as well, both seriously and playfully

i can see him using hahas and LOLs in equal measure, but he would also utilize the haha reaction if he had an iphone. this boy does value his wit so he would definitely have commentary about any memes or jokes he’s sent

you won’t win a joke war against him, he will definitely one-up whatever you send him with either a one-liner or another joke. how tf does he do it?

definitely ignores people/conversations if he really wants to - but ofc he never does that to his BAE

if miyuki give you a dry one-line response...he’s not interested at all or he’s feeling frustrated about something else. but when he’s really happy? he will text his friends all the time and spam them! i see him as someone who enjoys texting when he has the attention span/state of mind for it. and when he’s texting his s/o his texting gets even more ~flavorful~

wit his lil bae: i don’t think miyuki would switch it up much w his s/o. is probably even more teasing with you over text than he is with his friends, which is saying something.

like talking with you just by nature of you being his partner. prob prefers texts to facetime because text kinda allows for maximum snark

he LIVES for you guys’ witty back and forth

if he’s traveling for work or something, will definitely relish in you guys binge texting a tv show or something but just making funny commentary (or he’ll just send you funny commentary to get a reaction)

he can dish it and he’s also not a super sensitive guy so he can take it tenfold from you as well. nothing y’all wouldn’t be used to when talking in person!

sometimes when texting him you’ll want to beat his a*s because he can be so cheeky but its endearing in a way. he definitely adds emojis to the end of his more annoying messages to give it that loveable vibe (and it works ofc, we love u miyuki)

he’s kinda clingy on the low so i think he’d prefer a partner that’s more open with their affection via text than he is. he would live for your random ilys or whatver throughout the day. also would not mind at all if you updated him on your actions throughout the day or sent him snaps - might not be able to respond to everything, but will react and appreciate it. very likely to make jokes about whatever you’re doing.

would also apologize over text. he’s not always used to apologizing can be awkward about it, so text makes it easier for him.

he would use emojis w you in a joking/ironic way. would absolute use those dumb but genius emoji combinations

yuki tetsuya

i’m literally cracking up thinking about texting him. he is one of my ultimate baes but im sorry i just know he texts dry asf. but its part of his charm!

has a flip phone. either never upgrades or gets the chunkiest most basic android if he is forced to

the thing is this man thinks that he is infusing all his texts with, like, tajin level seasoning, when in reality its pepper

uses punctuation. always. exclamation marks are used sparingly to express excitement.

but i can’t get the image out of my head of an upset tetsuya texting you a simple angry emoji (or the angry emoticon >:( LOL) if he’s reeeeeeally mad. but its v cute i can’t take him seriously. i just want to give him a hug <3

but you know what he is so PASSIONATE about whatever he’s talking about that his passion bleeds into his text through sheer quantity of words and depth of thought. ultimately, all his conversations end up being extremely flavorful in terms of content. he is surprisingly good at having deep conversations over text.

he’s better at holding conversations with more extroverted personalities, truthfully.

he’s another one who sends random things to people when he thinks about them. miyuki of course gets so many texts/thoughts about shogi. if you get a random haiku, poem, or quote from testu, that means you’re blessed enough to be in his inner circle! he definitely thought of you when he read it and and wants you to respond!

with bae: he doesn’t really change up his texting style tbh, but he has a stronger outward reaction to what YOU text in response.

definitely the type to smile almost imperceptibly at his phone as he texts you, even if you send him something like “hey i’m at the store, want anything?”

he’s not great as verbal affection early in the relationship, so you’ll have to discern his love/affection. however baby boy is NOT afraid to just straight up say he loves you, he does it all the time and early.

he’s KNOWN for being reliable and responsible, so he will be at your beck and call when he’s able to for anything you need, but his heart is also warmed by the thought of you reciprocating that care. if your texts show him you’re thinking of him just like he does too. he’s very gentle and sweet, and checks up on you when he’s able to see if you need anything at all.

he might be reliable, but that doesn’t mean that he’s the quickest guy to respond to texts. he’s a busy guy, and he doesn’t think about his phone all the time, but he will always get back to you (bae does not play when it comes to completing things).

if they came up with a shogi game for gamepidgeon and tetsu had an iphone, your phone probably would be spammed with requests for games lol.

this is my first time doing headcanons like this so please let me know what you think or give me tips on how to improve! I really enjoying thinking about it so I hope to do more in the future <3

#daiya no ace #daiya no ace headcanons #sawamura eijun #miyuki kazuya #kuramochi youichi #yuki tetsuya #sawamura eijun x reader #miyuki kazuya x reader #kuramochi youichi x reader #yuki tetsuya x reader #dna headcanons #miyuki x reader #kuramochi x reader #ace of diamond #headcanons #texting headcanons #my writing #diamond no ace

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saturnsummer · 3 years ago

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hi! i can’t believe i’m doing this, being cowardly and asking anonymously, which is so not like me, but i’m really not sure about the feedback i’ll get from this ask so here goes. i really hope you don’t take this the wrong way. i just don’t know who else to ask and among the authors i see in tumblr you’re the one with all the headcanons and looks into their characterization and all huhu.

i just noticed that in the majority of angst(y) aus, sol (a) is always the one who is constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, prioritising her family over hwi/not considering him her family, or ends up pushing hwi away and then the relationship turns out badly, and by badly meaning it ends. i understand the first one since that’s really been the case for the majority of what we get a glimpse of in her life. but i don’t understand the others and i want to understand because so many people are writing it that way, and i interpret it as: they see something i don’t. maybe there are things about her character that i can’t or perceive differently or my 21 year old brain lacks the wisdom for that i miss how it progresses to that. but since i’m too shy to interact with anyone i don’t have anyone to compare notes with, huhu. i don’t really understand the others them because:

she basically said she’ll root for him in his uncle’s place which isn’t something to be taken lightly, she knows the gravity of what she said and more than anyone else she knows what it feels like to have family leave you behind/alone and all (i hope u get what i mean here and that this is sufficient, it’ll get even longer if i add more explaining)

she has high EQ, she basically hit all the right spots in the before they uploaded the video part (if it wasn’t for assemblyman ko…) and this scene is also another example of number 3 where she ends up opening herself up to him again

she knows he understands her in a sense and has this certain level of trust towards him, it can be seen on how she told him about dan but not about anyone else, and even if hwi didn’t show up at that time it can also be seen that she somehow opens up to him in the drinking water as if its booze scene. I guess i just observed that in the instances where she takes the first step and tries to push him away, she rather ends up opening herself up to him.

hwi also has high EQ or at least towards sol (lmao) and combined with his high IQ and the fact that he understands her contributes to number 3

and not all of these scenes can be considered as “working out alright and happily and greatly” since there are challenges in them but somehow it never reaches to that degree :<

as i said i want to compare notes because i understand only a portion of where its based on. i’m not saying its ooc since there is a bedrock on where that could possibly come from, it’s just that i can’t comprehend how its probable to reach up to that degree based on my understanding of their characters huhu. if it is a writer’s thing though perhaps it’s most likely why i don’t understand since all i’ve ever done my whole life is read and not really the type that writes. huhu.

i’m really not complaining or insulting or saying anything bad about or offending the fics, honestly huhu. i just want to learn more about her character and i’m bad at saying things not bluntly :< i tried my best :<

also, if you’re not comfortable with answering posting the answer publicly but still considering to or want to answer my question (i’ve used tumblr for so long but don’t know how asks work) if know a way to kinda hide the ask but answer it and say you want me to dm you about it, i can :<

hello anon! thank you for this analysis that while lengthy, does give me a bit of insight!

I think all your points are valid! about why she’s the one that is the start of the angst, why she pushes him away and not the other way around! I completely get your meaning, and honestly i do see the things you are seeing too!

this is just my personal take on this and how i view sol as being the ‘start’ of angst, why aren’t there fics on joon being the ‘start’ of angst and all, so please do take this with a pinch of salt!

I’ve personally not written any headcanons/fics that are mainly angst centred yet, so I would have to draw on my understanding of sol and joonhwi as characters from law school.

for sol, she’s a big emotional girl. you could see from the way she argues in class, with her friends, with how she reacts all the time. she rides on emotions and uses her heart a little more than her brain. like the bad fama case, she couldn’t give up cause she was emotional about it. like you said, she has a high EQ!

a possible reason to the angst on her part is due to the emotions as well. being someone that follows her heart so closely, she’s easily affected by the people around her and swayed easily. it would make a little more sense for the angst to derive from her, maybe from feeling that she lacks the love for joon. or maybe, a certain incident and she breaks it off.

one other reason is her upbringing. we know that she has biological father that is different from her stepfather. we also know that it is implied that her biological father is not present in her life, and her stepfather is abusive to her mother. as such, this must have been hard on her. imagine growing up in a family far from perfect, would one believe in love? many cases, some say no. they have never seen a healthy relationship before, much less seen one grow in their eyes from young till adulthood. this is the same for sol too. she didn’t see a perfect family, she saw a broken family, no father figure and her mother who endured abuse. this ultimately might make sol think “why is there a need for love? will I end up like my parents? is joon going to leave me, like my biological father did?” it’s undeniable that she might have these thoughts in her mind. thus, it’s a more common catalyst of angst, in a breakup thinking she’s not good enough, or she’s not ready, or undeserving.

as such, most writers might maybe find it easier to draw on this aspect of sol as the angst starter. a short example of this would be in my ongoing “the fairytale you never had (would you believe again?)” fic and in my oneshots “worthy” !

however, I do wonder, “why isn’t joonhwi the one with angst? is sol the only messy one here?” quickly, I thought back to most of the scenes of joonhwi when he is troubled, confused or any sign of him showing emotions.

joonhwi can be an angst starter, but I think it drawn on less since it’s so hard to draw on. from the base line, we know he’s smart. we know he’s probably rich. we know his uncle is the closest person to him. we know his parents died. but all these are just facts, no emotions. in everything that joonhwi does, he does it out of compliance, law abiding, or of a moral code. very few instances does he act of emotions or show a raw side of him.

the only times we could see it would be when he’s confronting his uncle, or the moments with sol later on in the show. he rarely shows emotions, and it’s hard to understand him or his troubles when he doesn’t show many emotions and we don’t know enough about his life. we know he looks up to his uncle, but it’s impossible for him, an orphan, to not miss his parents or have his missing parents not play a role in his development.

thus, his angst would most probably derive from “can i trust her, even after this?”, “is she lying, to cover up something?”, “is sol really the sol I believe in? or was it an entire lie?” his angst would come from one of trust and not from emotions.

i would really love to give a full analysis, but im no good with this. you can always dm me on Twitter or tumblr and we can always have a chat on this! would love to draw from my fellow writer friends to pitch in on this too, since they are honestly better at the analysis. im just a free writer!

thank you anon for you query! do dm me on tumblr/twitter (whichever is comfortable!) and we can discuss more! i’ll keep your identity secret, no worries!

#askakino #law school #jtbc law school #jtbc drama #kang sol a #han joon hwi #solhwi #jtbc #kang sol a x han joon hwi #joonsola

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kaimelia · 3 years ago

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Hi, In Twitter and tik tok I see photos about Megan coming back to grey’s for Teddy and Owen

Wedding. Can you write something about Amelink in the wedding ? Please

last hope

a/n: me realizing you probably wanted fluff but. im a sucker for an amelia/teddy friendship and also angst!

"The day that was over ten years in the making," Amelia muttered, bringing her flute of sparkling water up to her lips. "Congratulations."

"Things finally feel right." Teddy glanced over at Amelia. "Thank you for everything you've done. I know these past few weeks haven't been easy, but this wedding wouldn't be happening without you."

"Who am I if I don't help plan my ex-husband's wedding?" Her eyes trailed to the dance floor, where Owen was dancing around with Leo in his arms. "Third time's the charm."

"Did Tom say anything to you?"

"He asked me to remind you that he's a plane ride away and that he has access to a private jet, so say the word, and he's on his way," Amelia wiggled her eyebrows. "He asked me if you were happy, and I said you were, and he said that he's happy for you."

"That doesn't sound like Tom."

"He did also add that you would be happier with him, but I was leaving that out for the sake of the moment."

"He keeps asking me about you," Teddy started softly. "Says you won't talk to him about what's going on and that he's worried about you."

"That also doesn't sound like Tom," Amelia laughed gently and looked over to see Teddy's stern expression. "He's seen me through bad times. And, I don't like to think about those, so I don't respond when he asks about me."

"If you ever wanted to talk to someone, I'm here, you know? Or if you just need a friend. I know what it's like to feel like everyone hates you."

"I'm guessing Link told you?" Teddy nodded slowly, a slight grimace across her face as she took a sip from her wine glass that lasted a second longer than it should've.

"He did, but I'm also assuming there's more than his side to the story. There was when I was in my own situation, and you were one of the only people to look out for me. You didn't have to do that, and yet, you did."

"He won't listen to me," Amelia whispered, her gaze trailing out to where Link was talking with Jo. "He won't even let me speak; he just shows up to get Scout and then drops him off like we're complete strangers."

"Owen did that to me, and then you went and yelled at him, and now we're here. Do you need me to go yell at Link?"

"No, not yet, at least." She looked down at her glass, swirling the small amount of drink left around. "I just want things to go back to the way they were last year. Even in the beginning of COVID, we had a nice thing going, balancing all of the kids and everything, and I just want that back."

"What happened?"

"Shouldn't you be dancing? It is your wedding, after all." Teddy waved her hand in dismissal and shrugged.

"I'm not a big party person. And, I know that talking to you right now is probably the only way I can escape the crowd of people because I look busy."

"Fair," Amelia muttered. "Things just fell apart. It was like, at first, we always had opposite work schedules, and when we were both home, one of us was leaving for work. And then, he got caught up with Jo and making sure that she was settled to get custody of Luna and everything, and it was like I became less and less important to him." She traced her finger over the top of the flute. "He stopped checking in, and it honestly seemed like he stopped caring about how I was doing, and then he proposed."

"And you said no."

"I didn't say anything. I couldn't say anything; I mean, what was I supposed to do? Fall into a marriage where we don't care about each other but still wear our rings? That's not what I want Scout to grow up thinking is love."

"Do you still love Link?" Amelia sighed, and her hand moved to the charm on her necklace, the one Link had gotten her for her birthday this past year. She ran it between her fingers.

"I don't know."

"Do you want to fix things?" Another sigh, and she looked up towards the roof of the tent shielding them from the night sky.

"When things were good, our relationship was the best thing I've ever had. But when things aren't good, I can't even explain what it did to me." She looked over at Teddy. "He just doesn't understand what it's like to be an addict. Or, he doesn't try to sympathize with it."

"The thing I've learned is that sometimes, you have to put yourself first. You have a child, and you want him to grow up learning how to take care of himself and be his own person instead of being completely tied to someone else. I spent years idolizing what my relationship with Owen would look like, and when we finally got to that point, I didn't recognize myself as a person." Teddy placed her hand on Amelia's shoulder. "Don't lose yourself because you want your relationship to look a certain way. It won't work for either of you." She set her wine glass down on the counter behind them. "By the look on Evelyn's face, I don't think I can hide over here any longer. But, Amelia, anytime you need something, I am always here." She walked away, trailing her hand down the neurosurgeon's arm as she left.

Before she even realized it, her feet were leading her towards where Link was standing, and suddenly, she was right in front of him with her arms dangling awkwardly by her side.

"I'm gonna go," Jo muttered, stepping away after raising her eyebrows at Link.

"Amelia?"

"I want to fix things," she started, clasping her hands together and subconsciously picking at her nails. "I miss us and the way things used to be before it all fell apart, and I know that maybe we can somehow get that back if you'll listen to me and promise not to ignore what I need because I don't want to get married and I'm not going to change who I am so much to the point that I forget who I am for you." She exhaled heavily, trying to read the expression on Link's face.

"Why are you doing this right now?"

"Because I need you to hear that and stop going around and telling everyone that I'm selfish and rejected your proposal because I don't care. We both know that's not true." Link dropped his head down. "You know how difficult these past few months have been for me; why would you think it was a good time to ask me to marry you?"

"Because we needed some joy, and I thought being engaged and planning our wedding would be that joy. All you had to do was talk to me and let me know that wasn't what you wanted."

"And all you had to do was check-in with me like you promised you would do before ever proposing!" Amelia bit her lip after speaking, noticing how the people around them had turned to look as their conversation increased in volume. "Link,"

"We shouldn't be having this conversation here," he muttered, picking up his wine glass from the table. "I'll find you later."

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around to see Maggie standing there with a sad smile on her face.

"Let's go home," she spoke quietly, taking Amelia's hand and leading her out of the venue.

"He hates me," Amelia muttered. "He hates me, and it's like it isn't even him anymore. That's not Link; Link would never act like this, right?" Maggie pursed her lips.

"I don't know."

"I had hope. I finally had hope, and I thought that if I went up to him and was clear about what I need, he would understand, and we could work on fixing things, but he didn't want to understand." She stopped walking. "What the hell did I do wrong?"

"You didn't do anything wrong, Amelia." Maggie approached her and took her hand again. "I promise. You didn't do anything wrong. Sometimes, things just don't work out, and you don't need him to be happy."

"But I miss him," she whispered. "I miss his kindness, and how much he cared about me, and how no matter what happened, he would just wrap me up in his arms at the end of the day and tell me that everything would be okay. He would always listen and be the one steady thing in my life when everything else was falling apart." Maggie sighed softly.

"Amelia, you'll always have me, I promise. And if he doesn't care for you, if he won't listen to you, then he doesn't deserve you." She tugged lightly on Amelia's hand, and they resumed their slow pace until they arrived at the car. Maggie opened the passenger door, and Amelia slumped down into the seat.

She rested her head against the window, finally allowing tears to silently fall from her eyes and watching as the car drove away from her last hope.

#amelink #amelia shepherd #atticus lincoln #amelia x link #amelink fanfiction #grey's anatomy #amelink fanfic #greys abc #greys fanfic #teddy altman #maggie pierce #my fics

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