#there's this one book I read in middle school that I think was actually non fiction?
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ofswordsandpens · 5 months ago
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reblog this and put in the tags your favorite (or most memorable) mandatory reading from school
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anomaliex · 20 days ago
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All of the bad kids have darkvision (even Kristen, not bc of race but twilight domain clerics get like crazy darkvision??) which is neat to me.
Idk, it definitely opens opportunities for strategically taking away major light sources in battle and makes stealthing at night easier and means travel through dark caves or forests during adventures isn't as dangerous as it might be for other parties (oh. Did it help with the Night Yorb?) etc etc, but it can also just be silly I guess. It's getting late at a sleepover but they never turn on the lights and they draw on Gorgug's face after he fell asleep but most of them see in grey tones in the dark but they kinda. Forgot. And now the colours are all wrong :(
I've also seen someone say yeah Gukgak apartment almost always dark and just. Yeah. Lights out unless it's really late and they have a non dark vision guest (rare). I think there are times where Fabian gets up at the ass crack of dawn because he has to fix his hair and he just does it in the dark so no one can tell he takes that long. I think the Mordred Manor gang in a super busy week if they're stressed with school/work will set the table and sit down to eat and almost not notice it's so dark for no reason until someone goes hey my food looks kinda dull that's weird. (Assuming Jawbone has dark vision. Which he should lol. Shifters do and that's what he should count as I think??) Also all of these scenarios I'm assuming it's like winter and it's dark out for longer so dim natural lighting at best.
Oh also something something Bad Kids ultimate hide and seek dude. In weird dark caves or mines during their (not world saving but just part of school) adventures because they goof off sometimes. Riz is always hidden the longest for very very obvious reasons and he also finds everyone the fastest for equally obvious reasons (if he uses investigation rather than perception, which I think is fair even if you'd typically do perception vs stealth because it is hide and seek, then after junior year all of his friends mechanically fully just. would not be able to hide from him* without a critical success ((and raw you can't crit on skill checks lmao but in the world of Spyre you can)) and this is really funny to me) but hey technically this is awesome exercise for a rogue to keep his mind sharp during downtime this is in middle school intro to adventuring books for sure. Maybe they rule it so that Riz wins if he finds them on a very small time limit so it's actually a challenge.
Idk idk I think it's fun if people consider stuff like darkvision in fics I want darkvision that'd be so convenient
*for clarification if you're reading this without having their stats memorised like some loser it's like. Riz's investigation is +14. He has reliable talent. The worst he can fucking get is a 24. Not to mention passive investigation is a thing that they've used (when Riz being in a room auto revealed the curse artefacts that one time) so it's kinda established that he wouldn't even have to "roll". Which in universe would mean he wouldn't even have to make an active effort I guess?
None of the bad kids (other than Riz ofc) are proficient in stealth and therefore none of them could beat a 24 with stealth without critting lmao. Fabian, with his maxed out dexterity, can match it on a 19. So if Fabian rolled as high as possible without critting and Riz rolled as bad as he can does Fabian have a slither of a chance? The ruling on what happens when you tie on contested checks is kind of weird because "oh the situation doesn't change" which is obvious with like, contested athletics but in cases like these it's less intuitive. What does not changing mean when it's hiding vs searching?? Does it mean the hiding person stays hidden? Or would this be less of a contested check since they don't happen at the exact same time and more of a hider sets the dc for seeker. In which case Riz would auto succeed because you just have to meet dcs to beat them. I am thinking too much about the mechanics of some (probably drunk) teenagers playing hide and seek. As I'm typing this I'm remembering that he wouldn't have to roll to meet a 24 because yeah passive investigation of a maniac (affectionately). Yeah okay he would just notice even Fabian in all cases but the case of a critical success.
Here I note that I don't put it past Fig to acquire Pass Without Trace (magical secrets) just to gain a chance at beating Riz in hide and seek. She'd fucking do it. She goes to visit her wood elf relatives to get pointers and all. Wow this derailed this was about darkvision at first.
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inawickedlittletown · 5 months ago
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Handsome Little Bookworm (BuckTommy) - one-shot
Summary: In which Buck discovers how avid of a reader Tommy is.
BuckTommy Positivity Week Day 4: hobbies and dates
Rated: G
Words: 1.1k
@bucktommypositivityweek
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Read on Ao3
Buck realized fairly quickly that his boyfriend was a romantic. He didn’t seem to think that he deserved romance or that anyone would be willing to go to all that trouble for him, but he certainly loved to watch romcoms and he read more romance books than anyone that Buck had ever met. The first time he was invited over to Tommy’s house he’d zeroed in on the built in bookshelves that held both books and DVDs. He’d been interested right away, especially because of the insight that it might give him to Tommy. 
“This is quite the collection,” Buck had muttered as he perused the movies. “Chimney did say you were a big movie guy.” 
“When you grew up the way I did, escapism is all you really have, Evan.” 
Buck nodded. “I went with the route that kept me out of the house until I broke something. Usually my bones.”
“Evan,” Tommy said, exasperated.  
“I don’t do that anymore.” 
When he got to the book section of the bookshelf, Buck pulled out a dark blue book with white writing that read Boyfriend Material. 
“Is this a guide? Do I make the cut?” Buck asked. 
Tommy plucked the book from his hands and returned it to its spot. It brought him close enough that Buck could smell his cologne. It was earthy and warm and Buck wanted nothing more than to press himself up against him and maybe turn around and kiss him silly. 
“You are definitely boyfriend material,” Tommy responded and he took a step away from Buck. 
Buck knew he was blushing and thinking about how it hadn’t even a week since they had defined what they were doing. After not having had a boyfriend his whole life, it felt amazing to actually have one. Some might say it sounded a little juvenile, but Buck loved it. He loved that Tommy was his boyfriend. 
Buck ran his fingers over the spines of a few more books and slowly came to the conclusion that half the books Tommy owned were romance novels. It was a little unexpected, and Buck didn’t know what he had expected to find on Tommy’s shelves because Tommy had never struck him as someone that spent their time reading non-fiction or the thrillers that had become popular due to all the true crime podcasts. Maybe he just hadn’t expected Tommy to be very invested in reading. Romance books made sense, though. So did the mix of sci-fi/fantasy. 
“So which of these is your favorite?” Buck asked. 
“I don’t think I have a favorite,” Tommy admitted. 
Buck glared at him. “Which one have you read more than once?” 
“Not that many.” 
Buck perused the books himself, looking for one that might be a little more worn than the others. It was difficult entirely because Tommy seemed to take meticulous care of his books. But, of course he did. He had an entire section made up of classics whose titles Buck recognized from reading lists at school. Going up a few shelves, two books whose pages faced out caught his attention. Buck could understand putting the books that way on the shelf because the edges of the pages were pretty. He grabbed them both out. 
The books were by the same author, TJ Klune. The covers were cartoonish in a way. One featured a house at the end of a cliff and the other a house in the middle of a forest that looked entirely like it was ready to collapse. He looked at the back cover of one and then the other. 
“These sound interesting,” he offered. 
“They’re very good. Your favorite?” 
“Nope.”
Buck hummed and put them back. He grabbed another book at random. Less. The cover featured a suited up guy falling backwards. 
Next he looked at a very thick white book with some kind of ship on the cover. And then The Hunger Games which Buck had actually read. A Sherlock Holmes story collection and a few books by Andy Weir. He recognized The Martian because he’d seen Hen reading it a few years back. 
“Have you read everything on here?” 
“Most of them,” Tommy said. 
“Hmm, I think I like knowing my boyfriend is well read,” Buck said as he put Good Omens back in its place. 
Tommy snorted. “If you count romance and speculative fiction well read.” 
“You read more than me.” 
“And I bet if we found a book in a topic you found interesting, you’d be in a deep dive,” Tommy said. 
Buck didn’t deny it. He did smirk at Tommy and pull him into a kiss. “How about we keep you my handsome little bookworm.” 
The rest of the tour of Tommy’s house resulted in Buck finding even more books. He hadn’t been looking, it was just that Tommy had books literally everywhere. He had another bookshelf in his bedroom and a small pile on his bedside table. He had cooking books in the kitchen, even. It was cute and Buck had no idea when Tommy made time for reading, but he did. He knew that he took a book to work with him for the downtime in between calls, but with everything else Tommy did, it was still shocking how many books he got through. 
In the months that followed, everytime he stayed the night, he found that Tommy had already finished the book he’d previously had on his bedside table and that it had been replaced with something entirely new. He liked looking at the current book and asking Tommy to tell him about it. 
As far as hobbies went, reading was not one that Buck had expected to find hot. Not like Muay Thai which involved tight shorts and a very sweaty and delicious looking Tommy, or even Tommy tinkering away at a car wearing a backwards cap and a tight tanktop that would invariably get covered in oil or grease stains. Buck just hadn’t known what it would do to him to know that Tommy wore reading glasses. 
He’d kissed him about it and begged him to keep the glasses on during sex that night. He had absolutely no regrets about it. 
Buck was also a little amazed by how much of Tommy’s mail consisted of books getting delivered to him. Or how whenever they went anywhere that had a local bookstore they had to make time to go inside and peruse the wares. Tommy always bought at least one book. 
Some of the best nights were the quiet nights where Buck had his headphones on and he watched a documentary or dived into his research and next to him, glasses perched on his nose and a book open in his hands was Tommy. Buck could picture them doing that for years. 
He could see it so well, the two of them a bit older sharing in each other’s space but doing their own thing. Occasionally sharing a smile or a kiss maybe with rings on each other’s fingers to top it all off.  
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anyamaris · 29 days ago
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Secrets of the Heart
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Pairing: Guardian!Baekhyun x Guardian!F!Reader
Dark Academia Career: Mystical Guardians/Keepers of Ancient Knowledge
Summary: For ages, a secret society has kept the darkest, most dangerous mysteries hidden from the world to keep it safe. By training guardians who show the capability to fight and protect these ancient relics from falling into the wrong hands, two compatible students are placed in hidden vaults after extensive training. You've longed for this your entire life, but then you find yourself trapped with the one man you never wanted to see again.
Word Count: 4827
Genre/Trope: Dark Academia/Non Idol AU, smut/angst, magical au
Warnings: Adult language, magical references, reader is a grump, Baek is Baek 💕oral (f. receiving), implied rough school years, overarching ideas of dark, dangerous secrets in the vault.
Tags- @lapydiaries @ksmutsociety @cafekitsune for the amazing dividers!
Thank you @pars-ley @yoonguurt and @frenchkisstheabyss for beta reading and helping me get this done!
A HUGE thank you to @potatomountain for the gorgeous banner, you're amazing!
A/N: This is for the @ksmutsociety Dark Academia event The Velvet Vault. This is part one, so I hope you all enjoy and I want to thank all the other participants for all the fun we had together working on these! I can't wait to read them! Check out other authors here!
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It has taken you days to decipher the clues, but you’ve finally arrived at your destination.
Your heart almost leaps from your chest in excitement as you walk through the unassuming doors before you.
The tension in your shoulders seems to abate the tiniest bit as you take in the vast interior of the actual vault.  
From the outside, it only appears as a maintenance door in an otherwise abandoned area.
Yet here, beneath the acres of wilderness in the middle of nowhere, lies a wealth of knowledge and secrets that only few in this world will ever even be aware of.
You think back on the letter you’d received for your posting weeks ago.
“Guardian 1485, you’ve been assigned to your post. Consider this your final test, and thank you for your service.”
From the outside, such a letter would give nothing away, but everything you needed to find your way lay in the inconspicuous note.
Using everything you’ve learned during your time at the academy, you’d left the populated world to inhabit this subterranean utopia.
It didn’t need to be said that failing would result in the very treasures of wisdom you’re now raking your eager eyes over to be locked away from your gaze forever.
You’d descended the timeworn stairs for what felt like ages, until you found yourself before the ancient doors that symbolized the culmination of your hard earned efforts.
The vast open room before you looms stories high, shelves of books appearing to disappear into the reaches above you, rolling ladders positioned here and there to take you up to the next little balcony to access small areas.
Makes sense now why I went down so many stairs, you think to yourself as you take in your new home.
Home…you think, your eyes fluttering closed at the comforting thought.
Hitching the strap of the duffle bag higher on your shoulder, you smile softly to yourself as you slowly turn around in a circle once more, enjoying the beautiful view of what is likely just the surface of what hides down here.
A large table sits amidst the open space in the middle of the cavernous room, as well as small alcoves here and there to perch and work.
Sconces adorn the dark paneled walls, allowing you to appreciate how vast the massive room actually is. 
Before long, you find yourself wandering away from the library area, noticing the small halls branching off in three directions from the large room.  
The first hall seems to lead to kitchen and dining areas, so you head towards the middle hallway.
You pause briefly before you head down that way, eyes drawn to the third hallway.  
A shiver runs down your spine as your thoughts run wild about what lies that way, as there's a scrawling script carved into the threshold.
Both excitement and apprehension mix as you decide to settle in first, before getting swept away by your curiosity.
I wonder if my partner has arrived, you think to yourself as you finally set your feet on the path to your new lodgings.
An open framed doorway shows off a common area, filled with comfy looking couches, a few small tables as well as some bookshelves that appear to have board games, and much more modern books for leisure reading.
A small television adorns the far wall and you smile as you notice there are even a few gaming consoles on the shelf beneath.  
You can only assume that your unknown companion is either already further down in a room, or hasn’t arrived yet.  
Turning to continue down the hall, you take in a dining room, what appears to be a small storage area, then two doors opposite one another at the end of the hall.  
As you head towards them, a soft humming fills the silence, and you realize you’re not alone.
Ah, they must be here already, you think to yourself as you notice the door on the left is open a crack.
The melodic voice draws you in, and you can’t stop yourself from taking a peek through the gap to seek out the owner.
Wide shoulders grace your sight, short dark hair skimming the collar of a black shirt.
The figure looks to be unpacking his own personal duffle as he sings, and you feel yourself enraptured by his lovely song.
You know that the assignments are random, so this man could be from any of the academies around the world.  
Hopefully he’s-
Your thoughts die in your mind as the figure turns, and you notice you’ve pushed the door open further without even realizing it.
It wasn’t the abrupt end of the melody that has your entire being sinking into the depths of despair opening up beneath you. 
No, it was the man that the glorious ballad belonged to that has you begging to be swallowed whole by the void.
The dark brown eyes dance merrily, completely freezing your tongue as a voice you know all too well shatters your dreams.
“It’s you! What a surprise!” 
It’s as if your very soul slowly seeps out of your body, as his voice knocks you right back to the life you’d left behind at the academy. 
Of all the people, of all the Guardians you could have possibly been assigned with….
His big goofy grin breaks you from your frozen trance as he approaches you, looking as if this isn’t the worst thing to ever happen.
Finally managing a weak semblance of a smile, you just let out a soft breath.
“Yeah…great.” you all but groan.
The one person you thought you’d finally been rid of.
Byun Baekhyun.
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Weeks have passed and you’ve done your best to settle into this new, fascinating environment.
This was everything you’ve longed for, worth every agonizing minute spent in the harsh preparation you were subjected to at the academy.
Solitude, tranquility, exhilaration.
All things you feel as you inhale the ancient parchment of the script before you.  
Diligently translating the forbidden text, you find yourself lost in reverie, pondering what type of person belonged to the hand that had penned this.
The chime of the large lock startles you from your focus, drawing your gaze from the yellowed pages before you.
Arching your back as you look up, your jaw crack open in a large yawn.  
Midnight already? You think, rolling your shoulders as you rub your eyes with a fist.  
It was sunlight before you’d sat down with this set of tomes, but clearly the day had gotten away from you.
Smiling to yourself, you gently place the silk ribbon between the pages, closing the heavy tome before standing to allow your blood to flow a bit better to your legs.
“It’s like we’re right back at the academy.” A cheerful voice breaks the silence, and it takes everything within you to not groan out loud in annoyance.
Baekhyun just grins at you, perching in one of the narrow alcoves with his legs extended, a laptop resting on his thighs.
“Not quite.” You mutter, turning to ignore the man as you ponder when the last time you ate was.
“Did you want to eat?” Baekhyun’s voice seems to pluck the very thoughts from your mind, raising your irritation even more.
“Fine.” You grumble, not even turning to look his way as you head towards the kitchen hall.
Even though it’s been weeks since you’d walked through those doors, you’d barely spoken a handful of words at the man.
He acts as if we’re friendly, as if he’s completely clueless that it’s better not to interact with one another.
“Did you want to try the-” He starts.
Finally feeling your frustration build, you snap at him,“Will you please just stop?” 
Your voice is soft, yet cold, not even turning to address him.  
The air stills around you as a moment drags by as a small twinge of guilt teases at your heart.
There’s nothing to feel bad about, you think.  
“Alright.” 
His voice is hushed, almost sad and you can’t help but feel as if you’ve kicked a puppy.
Goddamn it, you think, why’d it have to be him?
Taking a breath, you shake your head, back still to him.
“I’m just hungry and tired.  I’ll cook something.” 
“Awesome!” 
There it is, that god's awful cheeriness that seems to come so easily to him.
Weariness washes over you, making you sigh as you head to the kitchen, hearing him bouncing along behind you.
The large restaurant style kitchen is a dream, you think as you head to the large walk in cooler to see what you can find to throw together.
Gathering ingredients, you do your best to ignore the man who is now kicking his feet from the tall stool he’s sat on, watching you curiously from the island in the middle of the room.
At least he seems to get that I don’t want to hear his annoying voice, you think as you start cooking.
It was a long way from the big dining hall you’d eaten in at the school.
Your thoughts drift back to all the times you’d longed to be invited into the groups of kids who were talking and laughing with one another; bantering about the rankings, coordinating meetups, discussing classes.
It’s not that you’d necessarily chosen to eat alone, solitary and quiet as you watched on, but it’s also not as if anyone had even made an attempt to-
That’s not true, a small part of your brain reminds you.
The twinkling eyes of the man watching you cook just brings back all the frustration you felt as you recall that very look from across the dining hall.
He was always smiling, laughing, bright and bubbly.  
Uncaring.
Must be nice to not have to work for anything, to not have to prove yourself…
Old resentment churns in your gut, as you try to put it all out of your head.
It doesn't matter now, and you’re stuck here with him no matter how you feel.
The least you could do was attempt to coexist.
He finally breaks the silence between you, his voice heard easily over the noises of the pan on the stove.
“You don’t talk much.” he observes, “I was always curious about that. At the academy  students used to say you don’t like people, but I always thought-” he rambles, as you tap the metal spatula, clanking it loudly against the pan,, clearing your throat, you feel your old instinct to run away creep in.
“You always thought what?” You ask softly, your shoulders tense as you wait for him to say the worries in your mind.
He pauses before continuing, slowing down and seeming a bit more subdued by your sudden gesture.
“...that you just really liked to study and focus.”
Blinking at the odd words you hadn’t expected to hear, you finally glance over your shoulder at the man staring back at you.
His big dopey grin only confuses you more, as it always has, as you release a soft breath.
He didn’t say the words in your head, the words you always heard whispered amidst your “peers” at the academy.
“Why doesn’t she speak to anyone?”
“I heard her gift was strange, I’m surprised she got in here…”
“I’ve never even heard of her family.”
“Family? I heard she’s an orphan, she doesn’t even have a surname-”
They didn’t even have the decency to laugh at you or giggle at your expense as they said these things.
It was the horrible pity behind those condescending eyes, the whispers of doubt as they seemed to avoid you.
Well…all but the strange man currently tilting his head at you.
“I did. I still do.” You tell him, unable to break his gaze as he beams at you.
Shaking off his weird conversation and unwelcome memories, you turn back to check the food.  
“Ah, well that’s good! I mean, I don’t know how you don’t lose your mind after hours of that, but if you like it…” He shrugs.
“It’s my task, as you know.” You state simply, turning back to the food, then grabbing some plates to serve it to him, then your own.
“Of course. I just figured…we could get to know one another more” he says, looking at you with hopeful eyes.
“Ask anything you want about my work here, I’m happy to answer.” you tell him, taking a seat, making sure there’s one between you.
His hopeful smile falters as he slowly nods, turning to eat his meal.
“Ah…well…okay, we can talk about work,” he says.
Shaking your head, you dig into your own meal, not understanding why he’s going so far, even here, to pity you. 
You just didn’t know how to tell him he didn’t have to bother.
You both eat your meal, mostly in silence, not quite sure what he wants from you.
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Things have been quiet in the common area and you can’t help but find it almost stifling.
Who knew you’d end up craving a break to the monotony, when usually you relish in it?
Despite your resistance to his attempts to get to know you, you find yourself searching Baekhyun out as you glance up from your vial.  
More and more as time passes, you find your gaze straying from whatever it was you were doing to seek him out.
It was just curiosity, seeing as he’s the only one around.
It definitely isn’t interest in him, as much as the distracting man tries to get to know you.
You’ve been employing some of the chemistry from your transmutation book for a few hours now, but you can’t seem to focus enough to get it right.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, you try to stop yourself from wondering what he’s doing.
Maybe I’ll go check my plants, you think, gently placing the glass vessel back in its rack.
You stand and make your way down the long hallway, idly pondering what lies behind some of the locked doors.
As you brush your fingers across each door frame, you can feel the shimmering tension of strong magic protecting the secrets within.
Suppressing a shiver, you finally reach the glass doors that lead into the underground garden where the herbs grow.
A smile already plays across your lips as you slip inside, breathing in the fragrance of the thriving plants.  
How they did so well down here was a mystery-
Your thoughts are cut off as you hear the familiar soft melody of singing, eyes immediately seeking the only other being that resides here.
A gentle white light illuminates an area off to the right, down a pathway overhung with branches from the trees.
Furrowing your brow, you slowly approach the crouched figure of Baekhyun.
White light glows from his outstretched hands as he seems to almost caress the plants growing in front of him.
Your breath catches as you watch the tiny sprouts react, seeming to almost lean towards his open palms, stretching to bask in the light.
Taking in a rare moment to observe, you can’t help but admire the way his dark hair falls over his brow, the muscles in his broad shoulders flexing as he gently sings to the growth.
Without even looking at you, his song trails off and he speaks softly.
“This particular patch was infected with a blight,” he informs you, “I’ll likely change the setup a bit so they aren’t getting affected by the fungi nearby…”
Blinking yourself out of the little trance his voice has put you in, you just swallow and nod, feeling silly as it’s not like he can see you.
“Okay,” you whisper, finding yourself drawn forward to crouch beside him and watch the process.
Within the academy, it was forbidden to share any personal powers amongst your fellow students; it was ingrained in you from the start that the most important thing was keeping your posts safe.
That included never knowing what others were capable of, until you were placed.
You had wondered why you weren’t told who your partner was, and weren’t informed about his powers.
Everything is a test, you think wryly, sighing.
As always, it was for you to find out on your own, as he was likely not informed about yours.
“How…?” You ask him, still whispering as if speaking in any tone louder than a whisper will break the spell he seems to be holding over the plants.
Your eyes are locked on him as he finally looks away from his work, his eyes caramel in the glow of his magic as they meet yours.
A gentle smile plays on his lips, and he studies your face for a moment before responding.
“Photosynthesis...it’s a lucky side effect of my gift.” 
“I had no idea that you were the reason they were thriving.” You feel the strange warmth of something in the pit of your stomach as you watch him return to tending the fragile herbs.
Minutes tick by, and what should feel awkward as you watch him only feels calming and comfortable.
You’re unsure how much you like this unexpected feeling.
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The oppressive darkness cradling you in its grasp is suddenly broken by a sliver of white, cutting through the comforting cloud.
Groggily, you open your eyes to see a shadowy figure in your now open doorway.
Before reacting on impulse, you take stock of everything around you like you were trained.
You are lying in your bed, deep within the vault.  
Counting the beats of your heart, calming your breathing, you watch as the figure slowly steps forward.
“Baekhyun?” You whisper softly, hoping desperately that it’s the only other person that resides here with you.
The figure doesn’t utter a word, but a soft white glow begins to emit from his palms, then almost forms a soft aura around him as he slowly approaches your bed.
Sitting up, you furrow your brow in confusion.
Certainly, something has happened, he wouldn’t come into your room otherwise.
“Say it again.” he hums, finally reaching your bed.
Yet instead of stopping and waiting for a response, he’s climbing onto the mattress with you, one knee at a time as he slowly crawls his way up to you.
“What-say what…Baekhyun, what are you-?” you manage, before his lips are on yours.
He takes advantage of your open mouth when you gasp in surprise, his tongue searching for yours.
The fugitive muscle ignores the logic of your mind as it meets his eagerly, as do your arms as they wrap around his neck.  
A soft whimper leaves your throat as the man pushes you back onto the bed, dragging the covers off of you before settling his weight between your wantonly parted legs.
“Shh…” he hums as he breaks the kiss, his lips skimming along your jawbone to nip over to your ear, “I can’t stop myself, I want you…”
Warmth pools between your legs as you feel the stiff bulge grind against your core.  
“Baekhyun-” you whine out as he tears at the flimsy nightgown, his hands kneading and grasping your breasts, your sides, touching everywhere as the tiny buttons give or fly off to gods knows where.
“Yes, my name…keep saying it…” his voice has dropped to a lower tone, his heavy breathing causing your hips to lift.  
Mind swirling with desire, you can’t help the way your body reacts to his touch.
As much as the academy prepared you for, this was not one of the things you had ever expected to encounter.
You didn’t have the will to stop him.
This was exactly what you wanted.
The realization has your eyes flying open, looking down at the handsome man as he parts your gown, exposing your naked body to him.
Even his eyes seem to glow with that heavenly light as he looks up at you, letting his gaze rake slowly down your body.
“I may not be able to get you to talk to me, so I’ll make you scream instead…” He rasps out, then your legs are over his shoulders as he slips his hands under your ass, lifting your cunt to his face like you’re his feast.
Whatever words you could have responded with are lost as his lips wrap around your sensitive clit, tongue flicking gently in a circle as he stares up at you.
The glow surrounding him allows you a full view of what he’s doing and it causes your eyes to roll back in your head.
Reaching down to grasp tendrils of his hair, you use your other hand to grab at the pillow under your head; unable to stop your hips from bucking up towards him, and encouraging his wicked mouth.
Shadows flicker along the edges of his light as you feel the need to touch him, to return the same pleasure but he only doubles down, burying his face into you.
His tongue slips down to tease at your entrance as his nose nudges your delicate bud, and you should feel shame at the pooling moisture he’s gathering and swallowing up.
Yet his eyes are brazen, silently pleading with you to let go and scream for him.
So you do.
Your thighs tighten around his head and his eyes blaze with heat like you’ve never seen, white hot and burning as he moans into you.
It doesn’t take much to make you lose complete control.
Just one finger replacing his tongue, his teeth nipping gently at your throbbing clit before he’s sucking and licking you into insanity.
Thrusting deep within you, his impossibly long finger curls and you’re crying his name for all the slumbering creatures beneath the earth to hear.
Hips lifting, thrusting into his face, his palm cups your ass as he helps you ride your way through your orgasm.
“Baekhyun, fuck I-”  
His glowing eyes flicker, your head swimming as confusion overcomes you.
“Hey…hey-” you hear, and startled, you feel yourself gasping for air as you sit up.
“Hey, you were screaming for me? Is everything okay?”
Blinking, looking around, you realize that you're still in your bed.
But looking down, your nightgown is still intact, buttons perfectly placed.
Covers are drawn over you, and Baekhyun hovers near the door, looking confused and concerned.  
“Was it a nightmare?” He asks tentatively.
Trying to calm yourself, you merely nod, taking in a deep breath.
“Yeah…” you answer, covering your face with your hand at the memory…and the soaked panties you’re currently concealing beneath the blanket.
“Yeah…nightmare…I’m fine.” you tell him hollowly, and he just nods, pausing a moment before he’s turning to close the door behind him.
“Fuck…” you say, flopping back on your pillow, cheeks heating with the memory of the “nightmare.”
What the fuck is wrong with you?
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The following days, you swear Baekhyun senses something is off.
What the hell possessed you to dream of him in that way? 
Why the fuck are you upset, it was only a dream??
You find yourself going over the same line for the 15th time, still unable to comprehend it and you just lean back in your chair to run your hand over your face.
Before, you’d have heard something from Baekhyun like, “Is something wrong?” or “Is everything okay?”
But now…
You glance over, catching him looking away right as you do, going back to whatever it was he was documenting.
He’s been especially withdrawn, not his usual exuberant self since the garden…since the night you woke up screaming his name.
Feeling the heat travel up your neck at the thought, you clear your throat and rub the spot as if that will help it disappear.
Who knew you’d be missing his normal annoying banter.
“I can’t focus…I…maybe I should eat…” you say out loud, eyes darting to him as he sits in his little alcove.
His eyes meet yours, seeming to search for something, but you have no idea what.  
“Come if you want...I’ll likely make more than I can manage anyhow.” You toss out, turning to walk towards the kitchens.
Not sure why, but your heart sinks as silence meets you, but then seems to bob right back as you hear his feet hit the tiles and he slowly follows behind you.
It’s just a meal, you think, chastising yourself as you go about pulling out ingredients.
You can feel his eyes on you as you set about preparing your meal, and you glance over to study him.
“I’m sorry again about waking you the other evening.” You say, flinching at how your voice shakes.
He merely shrugs, settling his elbow on the counter and placing his hand on his palm as he studies you.
“Nothing to be sorry about.  It happens.”  
Frowning, you just turn back around to pay attention to the food and not burn anything.
“When we were at the academy, you used to do this late at night.” He finally breaks the silence.
Turning to give him an odd look, you try to think about all the late nights you ended up in the kitchens there.
“How…how do you know that?”  You ask him softly, swallowing at how his cheeks redden and his gaze drops, suddenly finding the counter interesting.
“I used to have nightmares too…sometimes I still do.” He whispers, fingernail tracing the patterns in the glossy marble.
“Occasionally, I would wander to clear my mind.  One night…I came across you in the kitchen cooking and humming.”
A smile teases at his lips, his eyes unfocused as if remembering, “I got curious and looked inside to see who was up so late.  I’d…never seen you smile before.  No matter how many times I tried to talk to you…but that night…” he shrugs again, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before looking away again.
Raising an eyebrow, you can only wait for him to continue, oddly fascinated to be told he’d been spying on you.
It doesn’t feel invasive like it should, no…it just has you wondering what he thought, what he saw…what he felt.
“I smiled?” You ask him gently, encouraging him.  
He looks up at you, eyes flicking back and forth as they study you, his corners of his lips lifting slowly.  
“Yes…you were beau-” he starts, but then his eyes widen, standing abruptly as he points behind you.
“Oh shit!” you exclaim, turning as you finally register the smoke pouring from the dry, burning food in the pan.
“Hold on, don’t panic-” he says, yet before his words get through to you, you’re grabbing the metal handle with your bare hand.
The clatter of the pan hitting the burner echoes through the room as you gasp, your hand throbbing with searing pain.
“Oh god, fuck, I’m stupid-” 
“Wait, don’t move.” He hums, calmly turning off the burner before turning to grasp your wounded hand.  
“It’s so fucking cliche, burning my hand, I’m an idiot-” you find yourself rambling.
“Shh…” he whispers, turning your palm up in his hands, studying the long angry burn on your skin.
Swallowing heavily, you can only nod, heart beating quickly at his proximity, at his gentle touch as he leans down to softly blow on your injury. 
The soft glow that surrounds both of your hands is warm, then cool as you feel relief.  
Startled, you watch the welt that was forming slowly fade until only unblemished skin remains.
“You…you can heal?” You ask him, stunned into stuttering your words.
His eyes are still on your palm, his thumb gently tracing the memory of the now healed burn before he nods.  
“Please be more careful.” He asks, glancing up at you as his fingers linger on your skin.
Blushing, you just nod back at him, your brain racing with confusion.
“How cliche of me, grabbing a pan without a mitt, of course I’d do something like that.  I don’t normally burn food, you know.  Now I’m going to have to-” you rant, pulling your hand from his as you attempt to turn around and clean up the now ruined food.
“You are beautiful when you smile. I wish I could see it more.” He blurts out, freezing you in your tracks.  
Eyes wide, you turn slowly to stare at him in disbelief.
It’s his turn to go beet red, fumbling for his own words as he seems to realize he said that out loud.
“I mean, you’re beautiful anyhow but I like when you seem happy…fuck…I just don’t want you to hate me like you do and I don’t know how to make you more comfortable…” 
Dumbfounded at the outpouring of confusing words, you can’t manage to get a syllable out before he’s rushing from the room.  
“I’m not hungry, I’m fine, I’ve got things to do-” the door swings shut before he finishes, leaving you standing dazed and staring off after him.
You’re not sure what is going on here, but things just got that much more confusing.
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theoceansluvr · 6 months ago
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Llyod Garmadon x Reader
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warnings; daddy issues and trauma.. it's llyod what do you expect? author's notes; by popular demand, aka one of my favorite ppl told me i should do it, my ninjago obsession !!! was gonna keep this to myself bc this is the nerdiest thing i will ever write on this blog but <9 kind of a mix of relationship hcs and regular old hcs
oooo he's so sweet i can't even describe it
doesn't really know how to do typical couple things i fear
mainly because he's scared that your either with him due to some ulterior motive or you'll get scared of him considering his past and father-
please please reassure this poor boy he's on the brink of a collapse from overthinking it
onto the normal, non sad headcanons !
biggest pillow fort building fan
most of you dates consist of sitting in one and watching really bad horror movies
oh and carmel popcorn !
if we're using the idea of him not being a lil Lego guy, he'd be one of those dudes with the BIGGEST Lego collection
(do i talk about Legos too much in my headcanons ???)
he will actually sit down and tell you about how long each of them took in full detail it's adorable
makes you a playlist every other day fr
i know that's more of a Cole thing but i like to think music is one of his ways to relax so he has some crazy good music taste
you guys have those frog build a bears or just any build a bear honestly
but he reminds me of the frog
you know those cute little Lego hearts ? you guys would have those
his is your favorite color and yours is green
he would totally walk you to class but would absolutely be nervous because he's not exactly the class favorite..
but you don't mind !
really creative when it comes to gifts and whatnot
like handmade cards and stuff like that
sort of went over dates already BUT
COMIC STORE DATES !!!
i will argue with nobody over this one either
probably a Marvel fan
would ironically like green latern though
doesn't really mind pda but absolutely isn't used to it
but in private he's the biggest cuddler
really, really likes when you play with his hair
i have zero explanation for this except for because i said so
based on art from one of my favorite artists on insta he would unironically wear those middle school boy minecraft fits
i love him dearly but the gods know he does
dyed his hair with koolaid once and it absolutely made him want to ACTUALLY dye it
likes when you read to him
it could be the most boring book on the planet and he'd know lay there and listen to you
knows how to play drums ???
definitely would teach you too
likes taking naps with you because he's chronically sleep deprived
fighting your dad and his henchmen doesn't come cheap im afraid
i could write about him for hours and hours but im sure people would get bored of that !!
all in all he's one of my favorite childhood crushes and i missed him so hard
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buzzkillers · 1 year ago
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Fables and Parables 2/5
Pairing: Namor x Black!Reader
Chapter Summary: you begin to feel the affects of the curse.
Warning: NON-CON, religious themes, non-consensual voyeurism, magical sex pollen, dream-walking, mentions of abortion, attempted forced pregnancy.
PART ONE
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It rained the next day. 
It's so bad that you're forced to braid your hair. The gel wasn't working and the frays of your edges curled underneath the humidity.
Lucky you, but that's not where your bad day ended, of course not. 
The storm had forced you all inside, the rain battering against the very thin walls of the hostel. All plans for exploration were delayed. Quickly, your discomfort turned into irritation and then your period started. Of course it did. Thankfully, there was no blood yet but it was the beginning of it. You could feel it in the twist of your gut, the odd ache in your pelvis. It's so subtle that it could’ve passed a stomach ache
But you've never felt your stomach twist like this before. Like there was a needle in your guts that pulled and twisted.
 So yeah, you were on your period and the weather was shit and you were starving. But you didn’t mind, you really didn't. Until then it rained the next day and the day after that and you never bled. 
“It’s global warming,” your roommate whispered, her face still shoved into her book. 'Art and Society of Mayan culture ' it read, the bind of it worn and dirty. 
You relaxed in your own bed. Your leg splayed off the edge.“-just think about it,”
“I'm thinking about it,” You lied. Because you’ve actually been reading the same  ‘Wikipedia’ page for the last five minutes and you were afraid that if you moved a muscle, something just might burst. 
The other didn’t know this though. How could she? So she rolled her eyes, lips pinched. “Im serious,” 
“I mean it's May—May," she turned a page, "We're supposed to be touring temples but instead we're-" she looked over at you and then winced. "-I actually don't know what you're doing," 
"Waiting for this bootleg ibuprofen to kick in," you muttered, your phone now fallen asleep. You took a strangled breath. 
"I don't think it's working," 
“Are you sure you don't want tea?” she asked cause she was nice and didn’t know that every word she spoke made you want to bite bricks. You shoved your head into the pillow and tried to suffocate yourself. “Nah, rather vomit,” Last night, you only had one cup and instantly spat it out. You’d rather stick to sink water. 
“I think I'm just gonna die here,” you groaned, ‘cause it would just be your luck really. Then you curled into a ball, your arms wrapped around your knees. The position only made it worse.  Tears pricked in the corner of your eyes. 
The woman sucked her teeth, “Right, die in a run down hostel, in the middle of nowhere, that's not inconsiderate,”
“Kindly fuck off,”
“To get tea? Yeah I'm suddenly in the mood,” you shot the woman a glare, and suddenly it's her that's ignoring you. The look on her face smug as she jumped into some trousers and walked out the door. 
You took the moment to look out the window. It faced the front streets, above all the pop shops and grocery bags. Below you, people ran to get away from the onslaught. No one wanted to drive today, clearly. People bustled in the streets, business men went home and school children ran with their bags over their heads. Anything to get out of the rain. 
Except one, a lone figure at the edge of the sidewalk, who stood straight, unaffected. He did not wear an umbrella or a raincoat for that matter. Instead, his shelter was the leaves of the sidewalk trees. It flicked and fettered over him, it also did a shit poor job of actually keeping him dry. He looked at your Hostel. Unmoving. In your delusion, he was also blue, he looked very very blue.
Your face pinched and then the needle in your stomach twisted and your intestines curled and you forgot all about it. At least some people didn’t mind the rain. 
—-
It never stopped raining. Not truly. It might've drizzled, or splashed or allowed a pause within the bulging of clouds and the clap of thunder but it never actually stopped. Not for more than a few minutes anyway. 
Time only existed within the ratatat typing of rain. Between the moment where it splashed and melded into the streets. 
You didn't know what was more irritating, the cramps or that sound. After a few moments, your roommate picked the sound and that was all you needed to hear before you popped another ibuprofen and migrated to the play rooms of the hostel. 
Play room was stretching it though. It was simply a small living room with an ancient boxed tv and folding chairs. It's crowded when the two of you get down there. An odd mix of your classmates and other residents and they’re all watching the news on the weather. 
‘Unexpected’ they said, ‘unlikely to stop anytime soon,'  which in other words meant your earlier sentiment was right. 
You were never leaving this hostel and you were all feeling it. You've never felt so bored, so hungry. And the daily work assignments and sandwiches in the fridge weren't cutting it. You guys were going to have to leave the hostel for food eventually. Maybe that's why you were feeling the way? 
 It was a good hypothesis as the pangs in your belly tightened. You've never felt a hunger like this before. Strong and potent. 
So, a few hours later you're outside now. A few blocks away from the hostel and filled with enough ibuprofen that it might not be the storms that’ll kill you. There's only one grocery store on your street. It's an artificial beacon of fluorescent lights, the door rung when you opened it.  
With wobbly knees, you walked inside and the weather followed. A man with a mop looked up and glared at you. You ducked into one of the aisles.  
You needed something sweet, something heavy. Bread? No. Ice cream? You ran through each aisle. And then you walked and then your just sort of sludged your way around. Each movement made the world curl into itself, your floor tilted beneath your feet. 
By the time you actually got to the front again nothing looked appealing. Tortilla bread suddenly looked too heavy and chorizo looked too much. You looked at your basket, lips downturned. 
Maybe you should just get a drink instead. But even that made you want to curl into yourself. Soda was too much. A lemonade too sweet. What about water? At that your stomach twisted and turned, cold than hot. The cashier looked at you plainly. 
“¿Eso es todo, señora?" you blinked.
He was an older man, with sunken eyes and gray hair that was long but tied into a tight ponytail. He gave off a scent of artificial pine tree, his fingers battered with callouses. He had a gold tooth and his shirt, although clean, was translucent due to the rain that battered through the window every time a customer came in. 
You licked your lips, warmth in your belly overflowed. You wondered if he’d let you get on your knees. If all it would take was a look and sweet words before you led yourself behind the counter-
“señora?” the man's voice boomed you out of your thoughts, you flinched back. “Sorry, I-” you shook your head, “¿Tienes uh agua?” 
His eye twitched. “pasillo 10,”
Your mouth went dry. You looked to the back aisle, at the long tiled floors that seemed to drag on forever. On a back shelf the water sat pretty.  You licked your lips again. Something in you bloomed. It was exactly what you needed. Water.
With a fevered glance back, you battered your fingers against the counter. One gallon would be just as much as the food. It looked more appetizing too, like it would belly over the thirst that ran in your tummy. 
Like a great way to wash the taste of the man off your tongue.  
You shook your head, “Actually-” 
“-¿Te importaría conseguirlo para mí?” the man just looked at you, their mouth downturned. He looked ready to stay no. 
The aisle wasn’t that far away. And anyone with working legs would be able to make it to the back. But something in your face made the man's face relaxed, the corner of his lips pinched. “fine,” then with a glance, “Pero no vomites en mi suelo,” 
Unlikely. In fact vomiting was a very real possibility. You felt it in your throat, in the overtone and queasiness that slobbed in your tummy. 
You looked at him as he left. Watched the skin on his back, the sweat that twinkled down his spine. Your stomach flipped and turned. Suddenly, your hands were clammy and your lips dry. What kind of hunger was this?  
What kind, made you want this? Claws in your back, and kisses on your chest. You wanted it bad, like a bird wanted murder and a plant water, it was a need, a cancer that furloughed in your deepest cavities and bloomed. Ricocheting like a bullet before you fell to your knees and vomited it all out. 
You don't go out much after that. 
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mothswritingeye · 2 months ago
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So I have prophetic dreams. The way they go is I have a dream as a little kid and think nothing of it, and then have that same dream years later and realize “wait, that dream that I first had several years ago references a thing that only came out recently”. The dreams are mostly nonsense, but they do reference characters/locations/people that I only learned about recently.
Three examples of said dreams to prove that I’m not just making stuff up:
1: I end up in a copy of my old middle school that has a game like super smash bros ultimate, and I have to fight master hand (although the game is wrongly referred to as super smash bros brawl). I first had this dream before I went to middle school, before I met a teacher featured in the dream, before I knew the super smash bros franchise existed, before I knew of characters featured in that game (hero and master hand), before super smash bros was even revealed, and possibly before super smash bros brawl came out, although I’m not sure on that last part as I’ve never played that game before.
2: The five dragonets from the wings of fire series discovering a different continent and meeting a dragon named Rappa. I first had this dream before I knew about the wings of fire series, before they decided to introduce a second then-unknown continent, and before a character from an unrelated video game Honkai star rail was revealed named Rappa. Honkai star rail also didn’t exist back then, maybe not even Honkai impact third, and I didn’t know about Mihoyo or their other games.
3: I have to go to an alternate dimension to occupy members of the president’s security’s bodies to get him to a specific location. When I first had this dream, Obama was president, and I thought my brain had just made up a president. The president featured in my dream was Joe Biden, who I didn’t know existed when I first had this dream. We have to go through a high school in the quest to occupy the security’s bodies, and two students look significantly like Janis and Damien from the original mean girls movie, which I’ve never watched and didn’t know existed until recently. After a certain point, the president and a non-descript friend that’s helping me with this plot is depicted as a stick figure, specifically the one from animator v animation, which is a series I have never watched and have only seen one screenshot of very recently. When we first start occupying the security’s bodies, I’m holding a water for elephants plushie that was only produced for the recent musical, that only debuted earlier this year, that I saw less then two weeks ago and that I brought. (Proof I brought the plushie below). I also didn’t know about the book or movie until I saw the musical very recently. The members of the security team whose bodies me and the friend inhabit are also characters from dragon ball, an anime/manga that I didn’t know about until a few years ago, after I had the dream, and I’ve never watched or read dragon ball. (I think the characters are vegeta and goku, but I really wouldn’t know).
Proof I have the water for elephants plushie:
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So you might be wondering, why exactly am I telling you this? Well, recently I had a dream about Angel and Husk from Hazbin hotel that I first had several years ago, and there was a specific shot that I believe may end up in a song in season two, as well as being confirmation (we could guess this, but still) that Husk is getting a love song with Angel.
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(The text says:
they fall from reality
Husk is singing
He rows right
Note: Body swapping hijinks?)
(I would also like to advise you to take the body swapping stuff with an ENTIRE PITCHER of salt. I think that has a less then one percent chance of actually getting in the show)
I’m aware that only I have tangible proof that these dreams are prophetic, but I want to post this now so if the shot ends up in the actual episode I can say ‘I told you so’ and hopefully use this post as proof I have prophetic dreams.
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ask-whitepearl-and-steven · 2 years ago
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I've always been curious. How much does the English curriculum focus on reading and comprehension compared to analysis of literature in non-English speaking countries? I imagine it's not until the last few years of school that things like Shakespeare are even remotely considered something worth teaching.
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How do I answer this without turning it into a TEDtalk...
SO.
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The QUICK answer is: It depends.
It depends on the country. It depends on the school. It depends on the curriculum.
I'm afraid you've fallen into the hole called 'non-English speaking countries' - and referring to them under a single umbrella... when in reality, the curriculum of, say, Japan's EFL education and Norway's EFL education are WILDLY different. Hell, even the Philippines and Japan are more different than you might suspect.
Personally, as someone who has taught English as a Foreign Language in high school in Japan (albeit briefly, it was a one-year contract to fill in for another teacher who left the position due to COVID stuff, most of the time I'm an Elementary School teacher), I can tell you that 99% of the high schools in Japan will not have Shakespeare ANYWHERE on their curriculum. Most people in Japan will never run across Shakespeare unless they take a specialized class... probably IN UNIVERSITY.
Shakespeare is a difficult, antiquated form of English. It does not appear on any standardized testing. Why would anyone except native speakers take the time to learn it?
The LONGER answer is:
Students in English-speaking countries enter school knowing how to speak English.
I know there's a tendency to think of 6 year olds as these dum-dums who say things like 'I goed school' but anyone who has actively spent more than 10 minutes around a first grader will know that, barring developmental difficulties and learning disabilities, they actually speak using full sentences and correct grammar 99% of the time.
Schools in areas where English is already spoken natively can focus on:
spelling (oh gods English spelling is a fucking mess, I'm so sorry children I am SO sorry)
punctuation (spoken language doesn't have punctuation, so we have to teach kids to convert pauses and concepts into commas and sentence breaks)
written format (and various ways to apply it in different situations)
literature (famous books, novels, stories which are considered a good serving platter of concepts like analysis and metaphor and other tools we use to make written communication effective and interesting)
Schools in areas where English is NOT spoken must FIRST focus on:
Words (they must memorize on average 2000 to have a basic understanding down)
Pronunciation (each language has different sounds, and English has a LOT of weird sounds that many foreign speakers don't know how to produce... and it takes practice)
Basic grammar (Thing goes first. Doing-action-word goes next. Thing-that-has-action-done-to-it usually goes after that. Sometimes we have a time word that goes-- oh god how do you explain this to an 11 year old oh god)
Maybe spelling by the end of elementary school (my 5th graders only know how to write basic 3-4 letter words)
Basic reading, grammar and punctuation by the end of middle school, along with basic conversational skills
Ability to write a whole sentence, maybe a paragraph, by the time they finish middle school
High school is basically just reviewing more complex grammar because holy fuck is there a lot of it
Shakespeare? Who the FUCK has time for that?! These kids are still struggling to understand how a gerund works!
Things that native English speakers know on instinct, like the fact that this is a weird sentence:
the red big dog sits on the car
(vs the big red dog sits in the car)
...must be taught, little by little, to non-native English speakers, which takes TIME TIME TIME.
So next time you meet someone who speaks English as a second language - I need you to be kind to them. I need you to be thoughtful. And I need you to be thankful you were able to learn all these crazy ass grammar rules and spelling when you were still a young child and your brain was silly-putty in the shape of a vacuum that sucked up vocabulary.
.............fuck ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵐᶦⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ᵀᴱᴰᵗᵃˡᵏ
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yarameijer · 7 months ago
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Hello!! I just wanted to say i love your fics so much, when i first saw it in around 2022, i was amazed! Your writing style is so good, and it inspired me to be able to write fanfics aswell. I've gotta say, your fics are very interesting and entertaining! My most favorite fic of yours is probably Warped and Accidental Reverse. (I re-read those stories atleast 54 times i think?) Anyway, i was thinking if you had any headcanons for the Gryphon Trio? (Tsurugi, Tenma, Shindou) Also, if possible, DONT ABANDON ACCIDENTAL REVERSE PLZ🙏
Heyhey! Thank you for all the kind things you said <3 and good luck with your own fanfics!
Ohoho you don’t wanna know how many people asked for headcanons for these three and it took me ages because apparently I’m very bad at coming up with headcanons?? Who knew??
Tenma loves hugs
This means that when he gets excited he tries to tackle Tsurugi with hugs, and Tsurugi normally tries to evade him but every once in a while is caught off guard and then has to deal with octopus-Tenma
As time goes on Tsurugi starts accepting physical affection a bit more, but he's still a tsundere about it
It’s actually quite the normal sight for Tenma to hang off of Tsurgi if he gets the chance
Tenma’s less quick to hug Shindou, and for the first few months in their friendship, hugging Shindou is a very big no! in his mind because that’s his senpai, he can’t just hug him!
Over time the two of them grow more comfortable with each other and after talking out a pretty major argument (that I will be writing at some point) they hug for the first time, and get more comfortable doing so
Tenma’s still kinda shy about it tho so Shindou’s usually the instigator
Tenma is a bit more hesitant to tackle-hug Shindou than Tsurugi
Shindou is actually quite quick with giving minor physical affection! Usually shoulder touches during excitable moments, whether that’s after scoring a goal during a match or when one of his friends is upset - think light squeezes or just laying his hand on someone’s shoulder
They all live on different sides of Inazuma Town and the riverside soccer field is more or less in the middle of their houses, so if they want to meet up for soccer outside of school, that’s where they go
Usually when they hang out for non-soccer activities, they just agree to meet at the place they’re going
They like hanging out at Tenma’s place because Aki always has the best snacks, they like hanging out at Tsurugi’s place because his parents usually are working so they’ve got the place to themselves, and they don’t like hanging out at Shindou’s place because Tenma and Tsurugi feel very out of place
Despite that, Tsurugi and Tenma love listening to Shindou playing the piano
Shindou has the worst sleeping schedule out of all of them because he gets caught up in whatever he’s doing (reading a book, ridiculous research on whatever caught his attention this time, thinking up hissatsu techniques or strategies for the team, etc.) and Tenma and Tsurugi judge him for it
Tenma and Tsurugi had a lot of fun training for Fire Tornado Double Drive and end up continuing their hissatsu training together in their free time
They don’t tell anyone about it but Shindou figures it out when they keep coming to him for ‘’hypothetical’’ hissatsu questions
Tsurugi, every chance he gets, rubs in the fact that he’s the tallest out of the three of them
He bullies Tenma by raising his hand too high for high-fives or keeping things above his head out of his reach
He tries the same thing with Shindou, but every time Shindou just stares at him wordlessly, incredibly unimpressed, until he lowers his hand
In fact, Tsurugi is not that much taller than Shindou, but still the one time Shindou tried pulling the ‘’I’m older’’ card in an argument, he didn’t hesitate to play the ‘’then why are you so short’’ card and Shindou didn’t talk to him for two days
Shindou and Tsurugi also have this habit of high-fiving without looking (‘’because they think it makes them look cool’’ ‘’Tenma shut up’’) but one time they missed and Shindou slapped Tsurugi in the face by accident
It was during a match so it got caught on camera and every once in a while Tenma sends it in whatever group chat they’re all in (Earth Eleven, Raimon, etc.) to humble them
Tenma’s a lot quicker to tease them both in group chats than face-to-face
In person, Shindou is the one who teases the others the most, because their reactions are very funny
Tenma gets very shy and starts stuttering
Tsurugi tries to pretend it doesn’t bother him but he’s also very pale and it’s very easy to see when he turns red
For Tenma and Tsurugi both Shindou is (one of) their go-to person(s) for advice, although Tsurugi is a lot more quiet and subtle about it than Tenma
I’ll probably add to this later, because recently I’ve really been building these characters to my liking and I’m starting to notice that it’s easier to come up with this stuff once I’ve developed them more individually.
That being said, I should probably do headcanon lists for them individually!
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myloveforhergoeson · 5 months ago
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minnesota
a non-exhaustive list (trust me i have way more) of hcs about the btrtv boys' lives pre-canon as inspired by @partiallypearl 's post here. mostly a mix of things i think fit them, wrote about in my fic, or are briefly touched upon in the show's true canon and never expanded on :)
carlos is super into animals; has a feeder outside his window so he can watch all the different birds from the forest each morning before he goes to school! his family has a large, playful dalmatian puppy named missy he walks in the mornings at the local park
james and carlos were the only two to participate in a sport other than hockey during the summer time - the two of them played flag football in the park ^
the boys all met at a pee wee hockey meet when they were four and they were placed by chance on the same team; they've played every position + have settled into their roles by the time they make the varsity team in high school
kendall is the youngest varsity hockey captain their school has ever had
on top of hockey, logan is in nearly every club imaginable to make sure his med school applications look good - he's running from AV club to chess club to the future doctors of america club to dnd club . his afterschool days are fully booked up, making it hard to spend time with his friends outside of hockey
james participates in local + high school theater as a way to curb his wannabe ways and not annoy his friends about it too much. started with strictly wanting to be an actor until his voice dropped + he realized he could sing in his last year of middle school
^ carlos, kendall, and logan helped him break into the musical world by joining freshman choir. everyone but james hated it.
^^ the choir and drama clubs teamed up that year and all four of them had to be in a production of grease :)
if he's not at hockey, kendall can usually be found either at work or watching his little sister <3
the knight's house is the unofficial official hang out spot for all of the guys. it's littered with remanence of all four boys from logan's med school fliers on the counter, james' beauty products in the guest bathroom, kendall's family photos from his best games + katie's big achievements, and carlos' sports equipment hung up by the backdoor
one of the other guys on the hockey team teaches james how to drive but his mother won't let him take the test to get his license
logan's moms don't call him hortense. they also call him logan.
the mitchell family has a cat named hippocrates <3
carlos + logan would always hunt for crawdads in the local rivers during the summer; carlos thought they were cool and logan wanted to study them
despite being only children, logan and james never actually felt that they were
carlos has three older sisters!!!!!!
of the four, carlos is the oldest, than james, then kendall, with logan being the "baby"
winning hockey games is usually celebrated by the team at a local pizza place, but the boys go out of their way to go there if another one of them succeeds in an area outside of sports to celebrate, like scoring well on a super hard test or getting a major role in a theater production!
that's all for now, but if you liked these, this is a not so cheeky spon for my fic that's all the wrote... if you don't want to read the whole thing, chapter 28 takes place in Minnesota + can be read as a one shot with sections special for each of the guys <3 lmk what you think if you read <3
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revasserium · 9 months ago
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a rumination on falling in love; aka the terrifying and strange reality of "dream girl" becoming "real girl"
or, what happens when an only child who has only ever loved in fiction falls in love in real life instead
this is not for you. unless, of course. you, like me, have felt like this before. which is to say, this might be for you. but it most definitely is, 100%, for me. so read on if you'd like. or, close out and move right along.
i am very lucky, i think, to have had the childhood that i had -- only child, two loving parents. but not only that, two loving parents who were good at loving and also good at parenting (which are two very distinct and different things and somehow, at least in my semi-limited exposure to people around my age, is becoming rarer and rarer these days). i am lucky to have been allowed to grow as i have -- to never question that i am loved, unconditionally and endlessly, to never question whether or not i have something -- because of course it's mine -- i've got no siblings to have to share anything with.
now, to some, that might be a sad, lonely thing, but i never thought about it that way. because i was never taught to think about it that way. and contrary to popular belief, it hasn't made me (or at least so i think) stingy or "bad at sharing" -- it's actually made me rather an over-sharer. i always have snacks at the office, i try to offer advice freely, i spot dinners/outings when i can, i like the joy it brings to share things not only to the people being shared with, but also to me -- the person doing the sharing.
but the double-edged sword of only-child-dom in upper-middle class america is time -- the huge, gaping excess of it, giant swaths of it after school, great big chunks of it on the weekends, the seemingly unbridgeable chasm between turning off the light and falling asleep. later, i'd learn that undiagnosed adhd and very high performing manic depression are to blame for most of my vibrating sense of need to fill every hour of every day with some kind of productivity (this, unironically, is why i love new york city -- the frenetic energy of it matches my mental wavelength so that i can feel "productive" even when i'm just walking down the street or sitting in a bar).
but back then, i -- and by extension my lovely parents -- tried to fill it with stuff -- 2 different art classes, ballet, swimming, piano, debate club, singing, chinese school, and of course, with my still yet unfilled hours -- reading and writing. to say i was raised by the books i read would be an understatement. to say i am nothing more than a massive conglomerate of those characters that resonated most with me in those books would be parenthetical to the fact that i'm also built by all those characters i've ever admired or wanted to be. i am, in the most cliche, literal, non-lampshaded sense "that nerdy book girl" who made it her entire fucking personality to be... that nerdy book girl. and this, amidst the stratospheric rise of "not like other girls" media and rhetoric -- it was not healthy (it still isn't), but it was a large part of who i was. and a lingering part of who i am today.
my overactive, adhd-driven imagination served me well, then. into the stories i delved, and what i couldn't find in my normal every day life, i found in narrative. long before the tiktok-ification of "book boyfriends" came the voices in my head that sounded like all the would-be book boyfriends i'd ever have -- everyone from edward cullen to kakashi to four (that one guy from divergent who only has like 4 fears, which in retrospect is so, so cringe, but alas) to fictionalized versions of one direction members. the list goes on. i used to be able to hold entire conversations, play out entire scenes with these mental constructs with impudent ease. spend hours in my room by myself just imagining.
it was like astral projection -- my body, here, my mind and my soul, somewhere else entirely. and this i believe (to this day) is the core of a lot of my writing and creativity. and also the core of a lot of my philosophies and beliefs. the ability to sink into a dream, a scene, a story.
and then. i fell in love.
and sure, it would be much too cliche to say that misery breeds good art so a happy artist would (at best) produce mediocre art/writing/whatever. because i've also seen fantastic art produced by very, very happy artists. the sad truth is only that it's much rarer than the alternative of the painfully mainstream tortured artist.
but to some degree, i think there's an inkling of truth in that saying. because having a real-life boyfriend, with all the real-life machinations and strings of having said real-life boyfriend has made it, somehow, much harder to access that old imaginary part of me. like a child growing up and losing the ability to "make believe" the way they used to. except, i know it's still there. there are still moments where i touch it, where i dip my toes in and it always feels like coming home.
and it's more than just the normal adult-ish responsibilities of going to work and paying bills, making dinner and shopping for groceries. doing laundry and investing in your roth ira. because before real-life boyfriend, i still did those things and i was still able to seamlessly get to that "elsewhere place". somehow, it is the physical presence of real-life boyfriend that seems to act as a "grounding agent". he is home, so i can't go to that other place. or, i can kind of get there, but i've always still got one foot steeped in reality.
it is not a necessarily good or bad thing, just an observation at most. but it does create this new "space" for the "want" of that elsewhere. for the want to being able to slip into that creative asphodel like i used to -- blink and i'm there. so i find myself often sitting at my desk, wishing, and then wondering what it means that i can't. that it isn't always and immediately accessible to me anymore.
perhaps absolute solitude was the unquestioned prerequisite for so long that i'd never noticed it until the solitude was no longer available to me. or perhaps the book-boyfriends are just shy creatures, afraid of the blaring daylight that real-life boyfriend might shed on their ultimate two-dimensional beings.
or perhaps that was always a "safe space" that i'd created for myself, and now real-life boyfriend has created a safe space for me too, and the venne-diagram of the two space spaces overlap just so, making a less singular space of each of them in turn. i don't know, but it's an interesting thought.
it's always struck me, now thinking back, that i've never been even remotely interested in having a real-life relationship before now. but that i've also never questioned if i wanted the current one that i'm in, if this was "the one" or if it was "good for me". and in that too, i know i am very lucky. few people can say that they struck gold the first time they've ever tried.
i know for a fact i wouldn't be this happy, have this good of a life if real-life boyfriend weren't here. he has made me better in ways that i do not have words to describe. but i'm also terrified of the earthen grounding-ness of him. i've spent my entire childhood and most of my adult life with my head in the clouds, taking the necessary trips back down to earth when i had to but... it feels strange to be "here" more and more. there's a hole inside of me where "that" heaven should be.
but two things can be true -- i am happy here; i still yearn for that elsewhere.
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bluecrocss · 4 months ago
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Those Annabeth "fans" lol
I really wanna let this topic go, but if I have ONE MORE non-black pjo fan, come on to my page and explain to me how "they grew up seeing the book characters (they're literally only talking about Leah, btw) one way, and they just can't reconcile it with the show 🥺", I might commit serious bodily harm...
They act like only white kids read PJO. I was little black girl reading it in middle school and annabeth was my favorite character. Do you think I was like, "oh she's blonde and white, how can I ever relate to her??" I didn't really have that choice, cuz as a kid MOST of the books/shows/plays/movies I had growing up, most characters didn't look like me. The hunger games, harry potter (forgive me, I was a kid), nancy drew, every disney princess movie, you name it. I notice how only white people complain about "struggling to connect" with characters that don't look like them, cuz POC have always had to do it. When POC ask for representation, it is because we have historically been ACTIVELY excluded, not because we can't connect to the characters otherwise 🙄
When it was halloween, and I dressed up as my favorite princess (Belle) and my brother dressed as his favorite superhero (superman), we just wore the wig and the outfit. I didn't need to paint my skin white to see myself as Belle. Yet every year there's this new controversy of some white person painting their skin or doing some offensive cosplay when they dress up as a POC character, because they see the race of POC characters as INHERENTLY part of the costume.
Why does your perception of Annabeth and the pjo characters trump mine, because you're white and I'm not? I fully viewed Annabeth as a white girl when I read the books, and when I saw Leah was cast, that didn't change my view of the character because her race was never central to the character. The author has stated the same thing. If you can't view a non-white/non-blonde version of annabeth (I am not speaking about the writing of the show or Leah's performance because this discourse started as soon as she was cast) as annabeth, then the parts of annabeth that actually mattered, the parts that Rick has identified as the most important, the part that I and millions of other non-white, non-blonde girls connected to, never connected with you. Rare representation of Neurodivergence in a female character, being underestimated (which had nothing to do with her being blonde lmao), perseverance, emotional vulnerability, overcoming generational curses and broken family life, abandonment issues, I could go on...
If you managed to grow to the age of maturity and still struggle to connect with people and view people as equal beneath their physical/material presentation, that is a YOU problem... the rest of the world shouldn't have to hold your hand through this.
And once again... NOBODY FORCED YOU TO WATCH THE SHOW. You don't like the casting, DON'T WATCH. Stop, coming to my comments and explaining how you're the exception, and you're not being ignorant, how, in fact it's the author, the casting directors, and the majority of the fanbase, who just don't understand her character the way you do 🥺
Give me a break.
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akumicchi · 9 months ago
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𝔗𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔡.
112 prayers
A hopeful message with no destination.
You will never be too heavy for me.
Content: angst, breakdown, hints of depression. Suguru's POV. OC appearance.
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I smelled it before I saw it. I felt it before I heard it; the presence, the humming. I had never entertained the idea of time travel. No one could actually predict a forced turn in the highway of time, even if Back to the Future made it look so comical. Despite that, I found myself basking in that presence, in that humming, and let it drive me off to when I was a child: innocent and safe.
“Mom?”, hoarse. Silence. A knot of guilt tightened itself up inside my chest. ‘Don’t go’.
“Sorry, did I wake you up?”, there weren't the walls of my room around me, no posters, no bookshelves nor pictures. In fact, there was no room at all. Just an open field I didn't know, somewhere I couldn't remember. I wasn't curled against my mother either. It was just Hogo, and it made me more at ease than expected.
Not being alert in a strange place was a punch to my instincts, but I couldn't bring myself to care aside from a simple:
“Where are we?”
“We’re at school. I carried you here, remember?”, oh yes. She and her stupidly strong arms. “You fell asleep though, so you probably don't”. 
I did remember not wanting to come, earlier that day. The air had felt like lead for the entire … month?, weighing heavy on my lungs with each breath. Every layer of clothing was a tight rope made of rubber. It didn't matter how much I tried to fight the dark clouds, they only grew thicker and tighter. It was exhausting. It'd be way easier to just give into the misery. ‘Ah… everyone would be so disappointed to see me like this, choosing the easy way. But I can't carry this and pretend anymore’. So I hid from sewing fake smiles on my face. I just wanted to drown in the pain without witnesses.
Despite that, I let her in.
“C'mon, I want to show you something.”
“I don't really feel like walking anywhere right now”, it had been four days since Tsukumo Yuki talked to me on that very bench, and left me with more thoughts than I could manage. I needed quiet. “Maybe next time”.
Hogo crouched in front of me. Her voice was soft, the one she used when talking to kids. “Please, it won't be long, I promise. We go and then we come back. You will like it”, her eyes were clouded with worry, she looked pretty like that too, “You don't even have to walk if you don't want to”.
“Hmm? How come? You can teleport now, too?”, I cocked a brow, feeling the slight tug of a smile against my will. ‘The things she makes me do’. Her hands closed and opened for a second. She wanted to hug me, and the realization of this loud and clumsy girl being so mindful around me made my chest ache. 
“Well, I'll show you if you agree to come with me”, she sang quietly with a spray of confidence.
I was so eager to get an answer to these haunting questions. Haibara’s response was as simple as his own mind. Tsukumo Yuki’s, on the other hand… It was complicated. Or maybe it wasn't? Maybe I had made my choice? But what if I was wrong? How could I know? What would she say? I wanted her thoughts, a piece of her mind to tell me…anything.
‘But not now’. The scent from her neck lulled my senses quiet. The tree leaves above our heads were kind enough to shield us from the summer afternoon. Hogo’s hand traced my skin, untangling my worries stroke by stroke. My legs were folded on her lap, and the vague memory of being cradled this way made me feel so innocent. Too warm to think. Too soft. Too comfortable.
She had a book propped up against my thigh. It was open roughly around the middle.
“What are you reading?” 
“112 prayers at midnight”, she hummed, eyes not leaving the pages.
“That's an odd number of prayers”.
“Yeah. It's a story about a non-believer trapped in a time loop trying to save his loved ones after losing them to a mistake… He prays every time for the loop to restart.”
“For a non believer he surrendered fast… At least he has a second chance”.
Silence settled between us. A few seconds later she spoke again.
“Hum, I thought about that too, ‘To pray for time to go back, it's so unfair’. But as twisted as it is, I just can't stop reading. Maybe I'll be surprised”.
“Who’s that god that answers at the first call? That's a real surprise. I'd like to meet him”, that was a slip. My throat tightened and by no means I expected how broken I actually sounded.
Her arms held me closer. When she pressed her lips against my forehead, a sob almost broke through every wall I had built.
“Me too”.
Stop being like this. Don't hold me, don't carry me somewhere calm, don't kiss me so softly. Stop making me feel so small! I don't want the sun, I don't want the breeze, I don't want clouds, or words, or songs, or flowers; I don't want any of it!!
“Shh… it's okay, I've got you”.
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uselessbard1031 · 5 months ago
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Orphaning My Old Work???
Howdy everyone!
I'll keep this short, but I just wanted to hop on and let you all know that today I orphaned some of my old works on Ao3. I've been wanting to do so for over a year now and finally bit the bullet. Yes, this includes my most popular fic "Legend of Korra X Reader Oneshots" (for anyone whose request I didn't get to, I apologize. I bit off way way more than I could chew with that and have over thirty requests and a dozen half finished fics).
Why?
Well, when I started writing fanfiction for Ao3 I was 17/18 years old. I started publishing said fanfiction at 18/19/20 (19? I think?) and I am now in my mid-twenties so...I've changed. Lol. I've grown up.
When I first started writing I was immature and unexperienced with the world. I wrote for characters I never had attraction to myself (Ex. Adult! Toph, Suyin, Korra, Asami) because people asked me to, I saw those characters got hits, and I wanted to be liked online. It was hard because I didn't see them as romantic interests and I feel the writing suffered for that. Even 'I Bought A War Criminal' (another popular fic I wrote) I fell out of love with Kuvira while writing and it had a rushed ending due to that fact.
The X readers in particular had some smut chapters that explored kinks I don't have and truthfully had never even heard of until reading some other fanfictions. I won't get too personal, but, like many of us on here, I was exposed to way too much shit way too soon in my life so I found new edgy smut topics to keep me engaged. I've since dealt with some of that trauma and also experienced more IRL trauma around relationships and sexuality that make me read some stuff I wrote -- and stuff I READ while underage -- (ex. knife play, non-con, etc) and go woah hey who let me have Wattpad at 12 and what kind of effect did that shit have because--??? (I would like to say that being into certain kinks is not bad and I'm not trying to kink shame but to me I was desensitized due to exposure too young to NSFW material and due to some IRL trauma -- reading and writing that was my way to cope without actually working through any issues. An unhealthy way to cope. I didn't know healthy relationships because everyone in my life up to that point had abused me or hurt me in some way or another either intentionally or unintentionally so I figured Ao3 / Wattpad / Fanfic.net smut wasn't 'that bad'. Now, I deal with my trauma in healthier ways and realize it's just not what I'm into. A lot of it I wasn't even into when I wrote it. But I read it, so I wrote it. Even recently with Outlander I wrote wildshape smut not because I was into it but because all the other Jaheira fics had it and I figured hey it will get views. Because yes, smut gets views).
I'm just not proud of the writing quality. The first chapter of that X Reader Oneshots collection switches tenses like a million times. Who let me do that? Lol. I have a published book IRL that I'm taking down too because omg don't let 17 year olds self-publish XD
The point is, I never really wrote much of that stuff for me. I wrote it to get views. To get comments. To explore things I thought I was suppose to explore. Because no one in my real life was telling me I was good or capable. I wanted reassurance that I was writing the 'edgiest' stuff or the 'fluffiest' or the 'right characters' and the 'right stories'.
Going forward, I want to write for me. It's why I've moved fandoms because yes, I love Legend of Korra and Lin Beifong, but I'm not obsessed with it like I was. I found community in LOK and in AO3 and online in general but, after getting offline -- deleting social media -- reading things other than fanfiction -- basically, as I became less chronically online for the first time since Middle School, I realized that there's so much more out there that I enjoy. And much healthier ways to enjoy it.
I love all of the support you guys have given me and I stand by the amazing love and community I've gotten from all of my commenters and kudos-ers. But those fics just don't represent me anymore. Few of them ever represented me at all. Many were just what I thought would 'sell'.
I want to keep writing, so I will. But for the stories and characters I want to write about in ways that I actually enjoy. I want cute romances and metaphores for life. Writing smut feels like a chore most of the time so I'll probably just fade to black most of the time with a chapter or two exception. I still love fanficton -- it's an artform all its own. But yeah. Anyways, I hope my little ramble here makes sense and I hope you all get what I'm trying to say.
And if you are like past me -- having interacted with the internet and NSFW and smut since a young age and now feeling like every boundary isn't enough in fiction (*clears throat* I see you BookTok wth r those abusive ass relationships you're reading?) just know that maybe that kind of content isn't good for you and know that vanilla isn't lame. Know that you can write the stories and characters you want and that you don't have to write characters you don't want to write or situations that scare you. And you don't have to pretend not to be scared just for the sake of not kink-shaming.
Yeah. Anyway, if ya'll have any questions fell free to reach out to me! I hope you continue to like my work and if you don't, that's fine too. I hope you don't feel like I'm abandoning you. I think I'm just growing up and getting better mentally. <3
~UselessBard1031
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alpaca-clouds · 3 months ago
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How To Improve Historical Literacy
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As I have already established: If my life had gone according to my plan, I would have studied history at university, not IT/economics. Because history is to me one of the most interesting areas of study. BY FAR.
But being a history nerd also brings me one thing: I... kinda notice how little most people know about history. And I am not talking about the kinda stuff I love even - you know, pre-colonial Americas and stuff. No, I am talking like European history.
I recently allowed myself the kinda joke and ask around with friends and with colleagues of work for them to just generally date me certain historical events, that are definitely taught in German schools. The events were: Christianization of Rome, the Fall of Rome, the Crusades, the witch hunts, the revolutions, the industrial revolution, and the fall of Weimar.
What can I say? In some cases people were off by 500 years.
And sure, I hear you say, but history is not about remembering dates.
I agree with that. History is about understanding how and why things happened. But if you do not even get the general series of events right and how much time roughly passed between those events... you do not understand how and why things happened. Because you have no way of knowing this.
I also quizzed three people a bit about the history of Islam as it interacted with European history and... Yeah. Most I got in response to that were blank stares and the question of: "How am I suppsed to know that?"
We talk a lot about media literacy. What we do not talk a lot about is historical literacy. And I think... that is a big issue.
I talked with a friend about this recently. A retired history teacher. (Mind you, he is not that old, he just could not do teaching anymore because of health issues.) And we talked about how the curriculum in history very much is still following the Great Man narrative - and also repeats a lot of historical propaganda unquestioned.
Sure, at least over here in Germany we do very much interact with the Nazi propaganda in a critical way. But at the same time we absolutely unquestioningly learn stuff as "true" that came from colonial propaganda - or from the Victorian era propaganda about the middle ages.
We generally do fairly little in history over here when it comes to anything happening before 1600. Sure, we roughly skim over it. If you pick Latin class you get a bit more of Rome and Greece. But without Latin class you will barely know anything about those times in history.
And the problem that comes from that is, that most folks never actually LEARN how to even read historical sources. Be it primary sources - or just historical research. Which then leads to people taking words as gospel from some idiots who want to turn the past into their personal fantasy (Shadiversity for example).
And really... I will decry curricula in so many different classes. But none as much as history. Because in history, well... the folks do not even learn the basics.
You absolutely cannot teach history without teaching about how history interacted. You cannot just do German history. Technically the people know that. It is why we learned about the French Revolution, and about the Industrial Revolution in the UK. But that is just not enough.
Kids need to learn how the world works - and how certain things came to be. And something that Germany barely talks about is colonialism. Or the crusades. And both things are so inherently important if you want to understand the state the world is in right now.
More than that, however... Kids really need to be taught how to find historical research and sources to inform themselves.
And I mean that bitterly.
Years ago I did an analysis of certain kids books that had historical themes (like those non-fiction books for kids) and... Oh boy. It was not good. There was so much bullshit in those, that came from research that was at times more than 80 years old and had long been disproven. But those fairly new books had not updated that kinda stuff. And how are kids supposed to recognize those issues? And how are they supposed to develop a bullshit detector, when they are taught bullshit as kids?
And really... Media literacy is bad, btu I think more than anything we should talk about historical literacy.
Might also help with the conspiracy theorists.
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cinnamonest · 2 years ago
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I'm now into the 5th season of hxh. As soon as I finish this series I will actually make a proper post but in the meantime I want to shout into the void how I feel about some of these bastards. Yes I was too lazy to turn off subtitles before taking hulu screenshots. I've been cutting into my sleep hours to watch this since the past week since I keep having to work overtime so this might be incoherent and delirious idk. I'm not entirely sure I'm awake right now. This might be a dream. Anyway
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Hisoka was the only character I was familiar with by name prior to watching and like. I always assumed the pervert schtick was like a one-time line/single scene that people just took and ran with it. I was incorrect
I know full well this man would most likely kill me but like. I think I'd be okay with it. I think it would be a good way to go and I would probably accept it. I'd thank him even. I'd ask him to step on me while he does it. Or maybe I'm right at the threshold where I'm so pathetic I'm genuinely not worth killing which I think I'd also be okay with as long as I can still get knocked to the ground and have him step on my neck. Please sir
Also a large portion of me watching this, up until this past week, has been while I'm at home bc I've been home a lot recently and I often have a parallel play thing going on with my mother where in the evenings I'll watch something or play games while she browses facebook or reads her Bible/Christian books and she'll like pay half-attention and make comments every few minutes on anything I watch. In true parent fashion she's managed to be there for like every scene of random naked shots or weird moaning and says nothing, but once just looked up, made a face of deep discomfort and went back to highlighting her Bible. I think about this a lot. I'm sorry mom
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I'm very weak to comic relief men actually and I have a triple weakness to token perv characters and furthermore my ovaries were created as such that men who are incredibly intelligent while also being astoundingly dumb are my kryptonite so my boy, be he as he may, dare I admit, does things to me. I think if you pulled the typical tease line where you say something about having a problem and needing a doctor to inspect you or just flash him he might die on the spot and that is very endearing to me. One could torment this man with the slightest of skin or sensuality it would be very easy. I appreciate you leorio
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I want to protect Killua but like does he need it really. Like the "oh poor baby I want to hold him and squeeze him and never let anything harm him" urge is there because of my blatant maternal complexes but at the same time I know full well he does not need protecting and would realistically be the one protecting anyone else but like the urge is still there. I don't care. I WILL find something to protect him from and I WILL do it
Also very tsun. I can sense it. I know I'm dumb and weak and I would get snarky comments about it but that's okay. I would let the middle school aged boy bully me. I'd be okay with that
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I think Illumi looks kind of like an insect. However he also terrifies me a little bit but I don't think that would particularly bother him. I think I could tell him both that he terrifies me and that he looks like a bug and he would have an entirely neutral response. Would probably just ask what kind of bug but may be disappointed if I name a non-cool bug. I'd probably say a grasshopper. I don't know how he would feel about that
I think what would be infuriating to me most is it is difficult to get much of a reaction out of this dude. Like you can be a total nightmare to have as a captive and the most you'll get is a :/ response. In attitude at least, like he'd probably still snap my wrist if deemed appropriate but would do it with just a mildly exasperated face/voice. I would try so hard to get a strong reaction and would never get it and that infuriates me. What right do you have to infuriate me like this bug man. Stop staring at me with them big ol eyes
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I think if this man were to be living a normal life and not running with criminals he would wear socks with sandals on a daily basis. Like those thick white halfway up the calves socks and tan buckled sandals worn exclusively by boomer middle aged dads. And it's not the only trait he would share with middle aged men either I think he would care deeply about the quality of his lawn and mispronounce foreign things in a way that is borderline creative for how wrong it is. I think he just is a middle aged boomer dad trapped in a younger man's body. Release this man into a Home Depot and he will immediately adapt to his natural habitat
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I am terrified of this man because due to who I am as a person I immediately evaluate all male specimens on what I think sex with them would be like, and cannot imagine a scenario involving this man where I come out of it without actual internal damage. Like you know how people joke about "rearranging your guts/insides" well this would be that but like actually genuinely. I think intercourse with this tank of a man would automatically necessitate medical attention. However do not mistake my horror for hesitancy because organ rupture is a price I will willingly pay for the experience of a realistic simulation of what I imagine it feels like to be a sick gazelle that falls behind the rest of the herd only to start hearing suspenseful nature documentary music
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I cannot look at this man without my blood pressure immediately rising. I have never been simultaneously so strongly attracted to yet have such a strong desire to strangle someone. I think the worst part of this is that he would somewhat let me attempt to strangle him but would find it endearing and would start going on an analysis of my personhood and I will be real with you all that would peak my fury and I would become violent. And blah blah "understanding myself" hey man can you maybe not mass murder and go on your journey of self discovery by doing drugs or taking a road trip or something like a normal person in their quarter life crisis. Is that so hard.
As my fingers type these words I can feel my heart rate increasing and I am filled with immense fury and arousal at the same time. Why are you attractive? What is wrong with me? I hate it and I hate myself for it. I have to unironically take a break from typing to take a deep breath. I have to move on because I'm getting heart palpitations
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Shalnark seems underappreciated. I love him so much but he also terrifies me in a way none of the others do. Like sure being blatantly cruel or loud or huge like some of the others is one thing but he's too cheery. It scares me on a visceral level. Sir why are you smiling like that. I do not trust it. Or rather realistically I know I WOULD trust it if I met this man as a stranger because I'm very gullible and that would not end well for me. This boy would probably be like one of the absolute worst people to end up stuck with once you get into it but that is very well hidden from the surface and I do not like that. I know I'm naive as all hell and I would fall for the same tricks over and over and I just know that would be used against me
On the bright side though this does mean he would actually fit the classic, original yandere trope since originally yanderes are supposed to be super sweet and cheery externally, so there's that
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My skrungly. My tiny son. Y'all do not understand my predicament because I have a NEED to squish his face in my hands, I have an unbearable urge to pat his head and ruffle his hair, it is a literal physical intrinsic need like food and water and I need this but like at what cost. Is the price one I am willing to pay. The answer is probably yes actually. What are a few broken fingers for a moment of pure bliss. Likewise even if by a mere 2 centimeters I am taller than this man and that brings me great satisfaction. I hold great power in my hands. I would be sure to bring this matter up on a daily basis at great risk to my well-being
Baby boy you are the warmth of my soul and the love of my life and the brightest star in my night sky which is really saying something because you have about as much positive energy as a funeral. Regardless. Baby boy. Baby
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I want Kurapika to know I love him. If Kurapika has 100000000 fans I'm one of them. I'm Kurapika has 10 fans I'm one of them. If Kurapika has 0 fans I am dead. If I were a shounen anime protagonist that just got the shit beaten out of me and I'm crumpled on the ground on the verge of unconsciousness and/or death I would have flashbacks and imagery of Kurapika go through my head and then I'd get a sudden burst of willpower and energy to miraculously get back up and kill the villain in a single blow. If I'm having a bad day and a singular thought of Kurapika passes through my mind it becomes a good day. Knowing Kurapika is a spiritual experience for me. I have a small orgasm every time my eyes are graced with Kurapika's visage. I think about Kurapika at minimum 127 times daily and if I fail to do this I will die instantly. I would protect Kurapika with my life. And by God I would gladly volunteer myself for clan rebuilding. Sir if you ever want to spread your bloodline I am right here. I will leap at the chance to spend the rest of my life as your personal incubator. I feel like he'd be paranoid and overprotective and lock me in the same house forever but you know what? I'm fine with that. Walking through our house at night will be like a semi-obscure 2000s Japanese horror rpg because every step you take there's a set of big red eyes staring at you but instead of weird Japanese demons its just pouty tiny kurtas. I am in physical pain because the most screen time he's had in ages is a phone call. Where is my boy. What have they done with my boy. If he does not return soon I will become violent
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