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minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong · 6 years ago

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Sweet Dreams Chapter One

Lucid dreaming: The process of being aware that one is dreaming. Some researchers believe that in lucid dreaming, the individual may be able to change the outcome of the dream or control their degree of participation in the imaginary (dream) environment.

Description: Lee Eunbyul has been plagued with hellish nightmares since she was a child. Not the sort of nightmares you may be familiar with. There are no monsters to evade, no serial killers to outrun, no auditoriums of classmates in front of whom to stand naked. Instead there is just...darkness. Endless darkness. With professional help, the dreams come less frequently. But after moving away from home to live with her sister, Eunbyul’s nightmare returns, only this time it’s different. This time...she’s not alone.

What would you do if you had the chance to change the outcome of not only your dreams, but your life?

Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn

Pairing: Namjoon x (f) OC

Word Count: 8.0k

Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Producer!Namjoon, Bookstore Clerk!Seokjin, Potter!Jimin, Producer!Yoongi, Dancer!Hoseok

Warnings: Frequent mentions of mental illness, infrequent swearing and mentions of alcohol

A/N: Hey guys! Here we are at the start of a new series! Ahhhh I can’t believe it. I’m so so excited about this one, so I really hope you guys like it. I hope I can continue it with your support! I tried uploading yesterday, but it didn’t get much traction, so I’m trying again today! Hopefully this time it works out. Regardless, I’m really enthusiastic about this plot so I’m excited to hear your thoughts! Please don’t be shy and send feedback, critique, questions, theories, and comments my way. I’ll be sure to respond to all asks I receive within a day of receiving them! Links will be added later, so for now check my masterlist to find previous chapters!

And again, if you want to follow my Twitter, my username is @/plzpunchmebts. I’m super active over there and hopefully in the future I’ll do some livestreams/chats with you all!

- Mercury

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Eunbyul

Some people say dreams don’t mean anything. That we assign a story to them when we wake up to make sense of all those disjointed electrical impulses, to glean meaning from the random energy. I always kinda liked that theory. Something about it is a little charming: finding the reason in the chaos. I read somewhere that dreams might serve as a form of psychotherapy, letting us deal with difficult issues without bringing them into waking life. I don’t like this theory as much. I also read somewhere that Sigmund Freud thought dreams give us an insight into our unconscious.

I really don’t like that one.

The air was quiet, half-dead after most of the customers had taken their leave, and smelled of instant coffee and old books. Rows of bookshelves lined the scuffed wood floor, endless greenery swaying in hanging baskets or draping over the tops of shelves. Distantly, I heard the sound of the old coffeemaker straining. Sunset rapidly approached on the horizon, encroaching on the city like a curtain. With a sigh, I let my eyes slide from the tabletop beneath my fingers to the window beside me, overlooking the broken outline of stout buildings, green hillsides, and ocean beyond. My eyes ached a little from straining them for hours and I took a moment to give them a rub with my palms, jimmying my glasses up my nose so they pressed into my forehead.

“Need some coffee?”

I jumped, my glasses clattering onto the old table, and I squinted up toward the voice. Chagrined, my cheeks flamed and I scrambled to grab my glasses once more, placing them carefully on the bridge of my nose so I could see him properly. There he stood, terribly handsome with wide eyes and full lips half-parted, brows raised as he looked down at me like a peculiar creature to study. Kim Seokjin.

When I took a moment to really look at him, there wasn’t a single thing I didn’t like. From the caramel top of his head to the bits of smooth forehead that showed through his hair to his playful round eyes to his lopsided half-smile.

“You okay?” he asked, leaning down at the waist to examine me.

My back went rigid and I coughed a little, slamming my book shut and standing to my feet. “I…I was about to leave,” I said without looking directly at him. If I did, I might embarrass myself again.

He chuckled and watched me shove my things into my satchel haphazardly, edges of paper sticking out at odd angles and several book corners straining against the canvas fabric. With a bow, I walked past him in the narrow aisle, careful not to touch him.

“Take care!” he called, whistling as he wandered back toward the register in the corner. He greeted the customer waiting there with a smile.

I watched from the doorway for a moment, scanning him in profile. Even his shapeless maroon bookstore smock looked handsome on him. He nodded gently as the customer made idle conversation, the two of them chatting easily. He placed her books into a paper bag and slid them across the counter, resting his chin in his hand and raising his eyes to offer his full attention. The customer, a young girl maybe a few years my senior, flushed just a little and a nervous smile spread across her face, eyes flitting around as she avoided his gaze.

I sighed and pushed the front door open, exiting to the sound of the overhead bell.

“You smell like bad coffee,” remarked Gaeul as I fell onto the plush living room couch.

She sat in front of the TV on the floor, criss-crossed, nursing a can of lukewarm beer as reruns of Produce 48 droned on. “Went to the bookstore,” I mumbled into a pillow, laying face-down on my stomach with my legs bent against the arm of the couch.

She reached back and gave my arm a smack before returning her attention to the screen. “Stupid,” she said.

I sighed and nodded, reaching out my fingers toward her. Without saying a word, she handed me her can and I took a greedy sip, wincing as the stuff slid down my throat. I bumped the can against her shoulder once I was finished and silently she retrieved it. I let my arm dangle, fingers brushing the plastic-covered floor, and shut my eyes.

“Did you talk to him?”

“Mhm.”

“What’d you say?” she asked.

I opened one eye. “Something dumb.”

She nodded, gaze glued to the television. “Predictable,” she said.

I inhaled slowly, glancing toward the new mural she was working on. A nature scene, the wall behind the TV was now dedicated to a half-finished paint project Gaeul had started the week after I moved in. Green pine trees were poking through grayish fog that ended abruptly where the unpainted white wall began. She’d been following a Bob Ross tutorial after seeing a video of someone else doing it online, but lacked the followthrough to see it to completion. The floor was still covered in plastic tarps from the living room to the kitchen, and each step crinkled, but it made cleaning easier. Consider cleaning your rent, Gaeul had said when she agreed to take me in, At least until you get a job.

“Wanna order in?” she asked, eyes affixed to the television.

We’d ordered in more times in the last few weeks here than we ever had at our parents’ house, mostly because of me. Chinese food containers formed skyscrapers in the recycling bin and not one of Gaeul’s nice ceramic plates had seen use since I moved in.

I sighed, shutting my eyes once more, and gave a defeated nod. “Yeah,” I said.

I washed my hands in the quiet restroom at Hyejin’s Books, trying not to look too long at my gaunt reflection in the mirror. Since moving, my skin had gone lackluster from lack of time outside and my once-long hair was now chopped short, curling from the beach town humidity, sticking up around my shoulders. Why’d you cut it? Gaeul had asked upon my arrival at her apartment. I hadn’t answered, only shrugged. After all, how was I supposed to explain to my sister that cutting it off felt like the only thing I could do? The only thing that made me feel like I was moving forward, even a little?

I adjusted my round rims on my nose bridge and patted my flushed cheeks, nodding once as I turned on my heel toward the exit. But as my fingers clasped around the doorknob, I heard a distinctive sniffle coming from the farthest stall. My back stiffened. Was someone crying? I swallowed hard, body like firm glass, and waited with bated breath for the sound to come again. Had I been preening in that bathroom while this stranger cried? All along?

I peeked over my shoulder, just a little, and bent enough to see the ground beneath the stalls. Indeed, a pair of sneakered feet rested on the polished linoleum, and a person sitting on the ground attached to them. I swallowed hard and lingered in the doorway, awaiting another sniffle, another sign of distress.

But none came. Just silence.

And despite my misgivings, I simply exhaled and absolved myself of guilt. Whoever they were, they didn’t want to be bothered or they’d be making themselves known. I didn’t want to risk upsetting them further, or earning someone’s anger. I pushed the door open and made my way out into the narrow hallway, my mind hanging back in that bathroom.

Gently, I repositioned my meager belongings — wallet, glasses case, memo pad — back into my bag with a sigh. Seokjin wasn’t working, and while he wasn’t the only reason to come to a lazy bookstore and kill time, a place where I knew I wouldn’t be in anybody’s way, he was a big part of why I braved the two-block walk along a busy main street nearly every day. How pathetic. I stared down at the tan skin of my hands, still poised to shove a book or two in my bag, and sighed. What use were hands if they were idle?

I shook my head. A flash of that endless darkness crossed my mind. If I thought too much about my disappointments I’d have the bad dream.

But as I turned on my heel and stepped into the walkway, I heard the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching. Perhaps if I’d have been more alert, the sound would have made me pause, but my mind still lingered on that sniffle. I was making something out of nothing, right? It wasn’t even my business, really. If they wanted to cry in a bookstore, they had that right, didn’t they? Who was I to pry anyway? And what if asking if they were okay made them mad at me?

My body collided with someone else’s. Someone solid, with more flesh and height than I had.

“Ah!” exclaimed a voice from in front of me, too loud for the mellow bookstore.

Another bookstore employee, the girl was holding a beautiful potted plant in her gentle hands, and as if in slow motion, she was swaying back on her heels from the force of our collision. With long, pin-straight black hair and a crooked smile, she was the goofy sort of pretty that made you feel at ease. Or at least, it should make you feel at ease. Unfortunately, looking at her now as she peered down at me with wide, chestnut eyes and lips forming a surprised ‘O’ I felt nothing short of panicked. She swung her hand out, seeking purchase, and clasped hard onto the strap of my satchel.

“Ah, sor-,” I began, voice weak, but before I could continue I heard the distinctive rrrriiiiip of fabric tearing apart.

Too late.

I didn’t even have time to mourn the torn-open satchel because with her pulling so hard in one direction and me still walking in the other, when the tether between us snapped she ended up yanking me down with her. Arms flailing as they scrambled to cushion my fall, my knuckles brushed something hard and another upsetting noise ripped through the quiet store, like someone had thrust open the emergency exit on a plane.

Crash!

I sat on my hands and knees, eyes wide and watering and focused on the ground in front of me to avoid looking at the ground beside me where I knew the carnage lie. Out of my peripheral, however, I saw the unmistakable array of broken pottery, mingling with moist soil and prematurely torn leaves. It seems my momentum had been strong enough to cause a casualty, and I’d grabbed the beautiful potted plant she’d been trying to protect on the way down.

“Oh no!” she cried, horror etched into her gentle features.

The two of us lie in a heap, limbs tangled, belongings strewn about in all directions. My heart was racing, face hot. I eyed the broken pot as it lay splayed out on the ground beside my fingertips. The shock and embarrassment had rendered me immobile, sitting slack-jawed on all fours, eyes wide. Why had I done that? Why hadn’t I contained my fall? Why couldn’t I keep from being in somebody’s way?

“Shoot…,” she mumbled as she scrambled toward the wreckage on her knees. She began collecting the jagged clay pieces, but before she could handle too many I jumped and clasped her hands to stop her. “Huh?” she asked, eyes round as she turned to me.

“You’ll cut yourself,” I said, eyes on the pieces.

I pursed my lips and turned the remains of my satchel upside down, wrapping my hands in the canvas as my belongings rolled around the floor, adding to the mess. I collected the pieces in my covered palm, holding the bigger chunks between my index finger and thumb.

“Thanks,” said the girl, her voice low as she used her smock to help. “I’m sorry for grabbing you on the way down.”

I shook my head, letting my mind focus on the pieces instead of the palpitations of my heart, the sweat gathering in my palms. Doctor Kim said when I felt it coming, I could circumvent it with enough focus. Just…focus on something else. So I did, watching with an almost catatonic gaze as my hands worked on their own accord, independent of my will.

“This thing was kinda expensive…,” she mumbled, sighing as I deposited the pieces I’d collected into the hamper she’d made of her smock. “I bet they’ll take it outta my pay.”

I swallowed hard and nodded, struggling to track her words as they left her mouth. Folks around the shop were staring now, spectating. It was hard to find something else to focus on when all I could think of was disappearing right then and there.

“Anyway, thanks for helping,” she said with a soft smile.

“Uh, yeah,” I said, nodding and pushing to my feet.

“I really am sorry,” she said, helping gather my things from around the floor.

I swallowed hard. “It’s okay.” I kept my eyes on the ground, eager to disappear from that book store and find a new place to spend my endless days.

I collected my things and carried them awkwardly in front of my stomach. I glanced around and found that every patron had paused their individual activities to watch the show. My throat constricted and my breaths became slightly more shallow. Before I could think too hard, I rushed out the door and down the stairs.

I sat by myself on a swing, all alone in a big, sprawling park. I’d only just turned seven, and the world seemed all at once too big and too small for me. Gaeul told me to wait for her there, wait until she was done with soccer practice so we could walk home together. But as sunset began to bleed across the sky in red and purple, the shadows started to look too long, the trees rustling too loud in the breeze. Picking at the skin around my fingernails, I slouched over my knees, eyes on the sand below that my toes couldn’t quite reach. My throat felt a little tight, and swallowing didn’t fix it any.

“Byul!” called Gaeul as she ran down the sidewalk toward me, waving her arms above her head with a gummy grin.

Upon seeing her, I smiled and slid off the swing. I ran to meet her halfway. “How was practice?” I asked, slurring a little with my missing front tooth.

She whistled and rested both hands on her hips with the smile of a champion, cleats tied and slung over her shoulder, kneepads slid down to her ankles. She was skinny, like a waif, knobby knees emerging from beneath too-big gym shorts. But to me, she looked like a superhero with the sun silhouetting her. My big sister, here to save me.

I hadn’t learned yet that there were things even she couldn’t save me from.

“Nevermind that,” she said, waving a hand with a loud laugh that crashed and echoed against the trees. “Jaehyun’s mom gave me some money for helping out with her lawn. Let’s go get some snacks at Auntie’s!”

My eyes went wide at the mention of food and I beamed up at her. Her round face was flushed, hair a mess, eyes nearly invisible with the force of her smile. And I knew that, if I had her around, I’d be okay.

“Let’s go through the woods!” said Gaeul, sliding past me on the playground path and pointing with one spindly arm towards the line of trees ringing the west side.

I stared into the rapidly darkening forest, squinting into its depths. It seemed the longer I looked, the deeper the woods became, and despite having played in those woods enough to know them like the back of my hand, something about it felt a little ominous that day.

I should’ve listened to my instincts.

“Let’s go!” called Gaeul as she jogged toward the tree line, leaving me to toddle cautiously in her wake.

I awoke with a start and stared at the analog clock on my wall. Squinting against the barely breaking morning outside my window, I saw the time. 4:03. My fingers found the empty bridge of my nose and squeezed. I grabbed for my glasses and slid them on, rubbing my jaw. There was no hope of falling asleep again, not after a dream like that.

At least it wasn’t the bad dream.

I stretched in bed and gave my fleshy thighs a squeeze, massaging the tension out of them with my fingers. My body had a tendency to seize up during dreams. Doctor Kim said it was because of my fitful sleeping habits, and that seemed to make enough sense. But it had certainly been a while since I’d felt these cramps.

I sighed, pushing myself out of bed and padding in my socks toward my yet unpacked luggage. I rifled through the clothes I’d been cycling for weeks, some of them washed and some not, and settled on an old Nirvana shirt Dad gave me before I left and a pair of shorts that allowed the warm air to unknot the cramps in my legs. Tiptoeing out onto the tarp-covered living room floor, I made my way to the front door and slipped on a pair of tennis shoes, not bothering to tie them, and slid a baseball cap on my head.

With a glance over my shoulder at the still, quiet apartment, I stepped out into the hallway and made my way to the stairwell.

Walking helped the muscles loosen up, and after thirty minutes of wandering the dawn-drenched alleyways and sidewalks around Gaeul’s apartment, my body felt relaxed again. Dawn was a nice time of day. Nobody was out yet, the businesspeople still tucked in bed, the late night wanderers making their ways home. It was just me, the lilac morning, the sleeping city, and the ground beneath my untied shoes.

Well, and the sound of jazzy lofi.

As I rounded the corner toward the arts district, about a block from Hyejin’s, I heard the muffled sound of music bumping quietly from an open window on the first floor of a narrow shop, nestled between two tall, windowed buildings. The storefront looked a little out of place in such a modern area. In fact, it probably suited the beachfront more with its brown shutters and faded turquoise paint. I approached it slowly, rubbing my bleary eyes to get a proper look at it. Who was up and working at this hour?

Park’s Pottery.

The sign was old, weathered, propped out over the sidewalk to attract attention from passers by. Well, it certainly attracted my attention. I wandered closer to the open window and peeked inside. I scanned the dim shop with a squint. It was small, but crammed with vases and teapots and bowls. Floor to ceiling were metal racks housing all manner of trinkets. The walls were adorned with tapestries, paintings, and posters from all over the place, and the floor was home to several elegant rugs, all splattered with dried clay. To the right of the front window was a cash register and to the left was an alcove with a bright, yellow warehouse light. That was the source of the music.

I crept a little closer, placing my hands on the windowpane, and craned my neck to see better. In that alcove was a spinning table and, with his back hunched over it, a young man with a bandana holding his hair off his shiny forehead. I raised my brows as I got a better look at him in profile. Dark hair and focused, serious eyes, he had cherubic cheeks and pouty lips as he worked his hands over the clay, smoothing it as it spun in rapid circles. His fingers looked capable, certain as they molded the material, occasionally dipping into a bowl of sludgy water and returning with biceps straining. It was almost like a dance. The hypnotic motions had me in a trance. He seemed so sure of himself, so confident. In control.

I didn’t even notice when the music stopped.

But he did.

He turned his head sharply toward the desk behind him and stared at his cell phone with a sigh. He sure was pretty. But before I could admire the stranger properly, his smart, dark eyes were upon me, sweeping naturally from his phone back to his clay. I stiffened in the windowsill and, as he opened his mouth and widened his eyes, I jumped and ran down the sidewalk, pumping my arms.

What was I, a criminal?

I sprinted quickly, squeezing my eyes shut as embarrassment turned my skin into hot leather. Great, I thought, another place I have to avoid.

“Wait!” called a high, gentle voice from behind me.

I turned to glance at the stranger as he exited the building, leaving the front door swinging behind him. He took off in a jog after me, fists clenched and still dripping with wet clay. I flushed and ran faster, desperate to avoid this awkward confrontation. My throat was closing, and not from the running. Each time I glanced over my shoulder, the stranger was right there, just a few paces behind me.

As I forced myself to run faster, I felt something tug at my ankle and before I could react, the untied lace from my right shoe was trapped beneath my left foot and I went sailing through the air. I flew for a foot or two before skidding to a stop on my bare knees, crying out in pain as my palms collided with the rough concrete. Wincing, I examined my hands and let out a strangled yelp as I found the skin had begun to peel away, revealing a layer of blood.

“Shit! You okay?” asked the same voice from behind me.

Heart hammering, I kept my head low, face obscured by my baseball cap, and nodded my head. “Mhm.”

I felt him approaching as he squatted beside me, glancing over my shoulder. “Ah,” he exhaled with a sigh. “Come back with me. I’ve got a first aid kit.”

I made no move to leave my spot, sitting on my skinned knees. But the young man was persistent and, upon seeing my reluctance, huffed and grabbed me by the crook of my elbow, leaving fingerprints of clay on my skin. Without a word, he led the way back to his pottery shop and I followed like a scolded child.

Well, at least the city was still asleep.

The young man kept his serious dark eyes trained on my hands as he applied several large bandages to them. He’d already taken care of my knees, and had demanded I sit in front of the pottery wheel while he took his time dressing my wounds. After what felt like an eternity in that dark shop, he finally spoke.

“Why’d you run away?” he asked.

I stiffened. Why had I? “I…,” I began, then shook my head. My heart rate had slowly returned to normal with the passage of time, and despite this man being a stranger I felt at ease around him. Probably because he hadn’t properly looked me in the eye. “I got nervous.”

He chuckled and patted my palm, glancing toward his half-finished work on the wheel behind me. “Nervous?” he asked.

“I was watching you through your window,” I said with a sigh. “Kinda creepy.”

He glanced at me for only a moment before shutting his eyes and offering a shrug and an easy smile. “I like having an audience,” he said.

I eyed him, his soft face, his slim shoulders and the dirty smock he had draped over them. He didn’t look like a potter. “Are you an employee?” I asked.

He opened his eyes and raised his brows. “Me?” he asked, then laughed and waved his freshly cleaned hands. “No, I own this place.”

I felt my eyes go wide, but tried to manage my expression. “You’re…you’re pretty young to own a pottery shop.”

He smiled. “Twenty-four,” he said with a nod. “It’s a family business, but my dad retired and handed the place down to me.”

I hummed as I glanced around. It sure was rustic. But charming nonetheless. Like a relic lost to time. “Your pieces are pretty,” I remarked as I scanned the racks.

He hummed, patting his thighs with a nod. “Well, after so long learning I’d sure hope my wares are good.”

“You get a lot of customers?” I asked, peeking at him out the corner of my eye. This was the longest conversation I’d had with anyone since moving out here, and for some reason I was reluctant to cut it short.

He chuckled and rubbed his jaw. “Mhm,” he said. “Why else would I be out here so early?”

“You work all day?”

“Nearly.”

“Every day?”

He smiled and met my eyes. “Nearly.”

“Wow,” I mumbled as I took in the shop from this new angle. I sighed. “Must be nice.”

“Hm?”

“Having something to do.”

I felt his eyes on me as my own eyes wandered, catching on little details all throughout the shop. A painting of Venus beside the door, a bare lightbulb, unlit, dangling from the ceiling beside the checkout counter, the frayed edge of a red and purple rug. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking, wasn’t even sure what I was thinking, but wordlessly I felt him shift as he sat on a crate in front of me.

“You wanna take something with you?” he asked quietly, lilting voice barely above a whisper in the silent shop.

I raised my brows. “Can you do that?”

He shrugged. “My shop.”

I chuckled and nodded. “I guess that’s true,” I said, sighing as I pushed myself to my feet. The young man joined me and gestured with one swooping hand toward the racks.

“Choose whatever you want,” he said, walking beside me as he weaved his way through the aisles. My gaze landed on a particularly beautiful flower pot sitting at eye level, just beside the throwing table. “Teapots are over here. Bowls are over there. Got a few-,”

“I want this,” I said, reaching for the pot with two careful hands.

He blinked a few times and met my eyes from the other side of the rack. “Oh,” he said, then nodded. “Alright.”

I ran my fingers over the flower pot. It had been intricately carved with swirling roses and twisting vines, leaves floating everywhere. It was definitely prettier than the one I broke, that much was certain. It looked about the right size. Hopefully they hadn’t already bought a new one.

Well, if they did I could just keep the thing for myself.

I offered the young man a tight-lipped smile and bowed my head, excusing myself to the exit. He followed beside me, eyeing the pot in my hands with a curious expression. Once in the doorway, I turned to him and gave one more bow.

“I’m sorry for spying on you,” I said, meeting his eyes carefully.

He smiled and, lucky for me, his eyes nearly disappeared. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Stop by again sometime. Maybe you can buy something.”

I nodded and smiled at the flower pot. “I will.”

“I’m Jimin, by the way. Park Jimin,” he said, holding out a hand for me to shake.

I hoisted the flower pot up on my hip and took his warm hand, shaking twice. “Nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Lee Eunbyul.”

He smiled again. “Pleasure,” he said, waving as I slipped out the front door. “Hope to see you again soon, Eunbyul.”

I slipped through the front door of Hyejin’s Bookstore, still holding the flower pot close. I’d waited an hour for the shop to open and, allowing the morning staff a ten minute grace period to set up shop, was the first patron to enter. The shop housed two stories of books and, navigating the stacks expertly like a covert agent, I maneuvered my way to the second floor unbeknownst to the two opening employees. I hadn’t had the time to figure out which ones they were, but from the broad back and chestnut hair of the man standing at the coffee maker I was pretty sure I could guess at least one.

God, of course. During my most important stealth mission, my Kryptonite shows up.

Nonetheless, I tiptoed toward the register and, using the sides of my fingers as cushions, set the flower pot down beside the register with a wince. By then, several other patrons had begun filing in, braving the steep stairs to the second floor and lining up beside the ancient coffee machine. I kept an eye on everyone, but mostly Seokjin as he restocked the paper cups and coffee stirrers. Once I was certain the pot was placed perfectly, I took a half-step back and glanced over my shoulder at Seokjin, still unaware of my presence.

His hair was quaffed out of his face today, styled to reveal his forehead, and his skin was practically glowing. I wasn’t sure if I was more jealous or in love with the guy. Sighing, I wandered lazily toward my favorite spot by the window, resting my hands palms-down on the tabletop. A few moments passed in silence before I heard someone speak.

“Oh…,” breathed a voice from the register.

To my dismay, there stood the same girl from the day before, eyes wide as she stared at the intricate, detailed flower pot with wonder-filled eyes. She turned it around a few times, appraising it, before smiling softly and scoffing once. She swept her gaze around the bookstore and I let my head fall downwards, heart racing. If she spotted me, I was cooked. She’d know for certain who had left it there.

“Jin!” she called with a disbelieving laugh.

Seokjin jogged over toward his coworker at the register and, rolling up the cuffs of his white button-down, glanced down toward the pot. “Whoa!” he exclaimed, grinning. “Someone left it here?”

“Seems like it,” replied the girl, smiling stupefied at the gift. “I was just about to buy a new one after work.”

I had to admit to a little swell of pride at that expression. It felt good to do good, that’s what Dad always said. And even though the pot was just repayment for the broken one, I felt a little piece inside me slip back into place. Like cogs in a clock.

“Huh,” said Seokjin, and without warning his eyes found me.

I stiffened, ready to make a run for it, but was stunned into stillness as our gazes locked and his handsome face broke into a small, knowing smile. “Seems like someone’s looking out for you,” he said gently, still smiling my way.

I cleared my throat and glanced out the window at the pastel morning sky, resting my burning cheek in my hand and allowing my mind to wander to the faraway clouds that ringed the horizon.

I’m dreaming, I thought to myself as I examined my hands, the fuzzy edges where my brain tried and failed to remember the finer details. Last thing I remembered was falling asleep in bed. What had Doctor Kim said? If you know it’s a dream, you can wake yourself up if you try hard enough. I tried hard to feel my body, the mattress beneath it, the covers I’d kicked off of it in the middle of the night. I tried to reason myself back into a physical space, out of this dark, cold, colorless void. But the more I struggled, the more suffocating the darkness felt. I squeezed my eyes shut, but like when I was young I could find no solace in the pitch-dark backs of my eyelids.

“Alright, alright,” I said aloud with a nod, shaking out my hands. I glanced around the void for a moment, eyes scanning the depths. “Detail, detail,” I said. I managed my breathing. “Doctor Kim said to find a detail.”

I scanned the darkness, searching for something, anything, that stood out. Something that clued me in to this being a dream. Something I could use to shake my brain out of sleep. I took a tentative step forward, or rather what might have been a step, and felt the same cool air I always felt in this void. My throat was constricting the longer I spent in here.

“Detail,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut. I begged for it. I longed for it so hard I wondered if I could simply will it into existence. “A tear,” I began. “Or a fray.” I scoffed as determined tears marched down my cheeks. “A fucking shoelace!” I shouted into the nothing.

Frustrated, I fell backwards onto my bottom and submitted to the sobs that began wracking my frame. The chill bit my exposed skin and raised goosebumps on my arms. “Jesus,” I said aloud, rubbing them down through tears. “For a dream, this shit is too realistic.”

I sniffled and stared around me at the darkness. When I was young, I used to search for the end of it. I walked for what felt like miles in one direction each night, wandering endlessly until eventually I woke up.

I never did find the end.

“Because there is no end,” I mumbled to myself, kicking my toe into the nothing beneath my cold bare feet.

“Yes there is.”

I screamed and jumped upright, scrambling backwards away from the voice behind me. Gasping for breath with my heart hammering, I peeled my eyes open and saw to my horror and immense relief…

A young man.

Standing about six feet tall with kind, dark brown eyes and a dimpled smile, the man seemed…inexplicably gentle. He stood dressed in plaid pajama pants and an old t-shirt, no shoes like me, honey-blonde hair sitting like a mop atop his head, standing in all directions. He yawned and scratched his jaw, eyes half-shut. Had my brain conjured another person to keep me company?

For the first time, I wasn’t alone in here…

I adjusted my posture, staring at him for what felt like a long, desperate moment. And, without meaning to, I rushed toward him and wrapped trembling fingers around his arm. Despite my expectations, he was real. Tangible. My fingers clamped down on actual flesh. They didn’t pass through. A fresh wave of emotion swept me up and carried me away and wordlessly, hot tears rolled like raindrops down my cheeks. Still holding on to his arm, I dipped my head, leaning it against his firm chest, and sobbed.

Startled, he tried to step away from me, but I was putting too much weight on him. He coughed a little before, almost reluctantly, he raised a hand and patted my shoulder.

“Ah…um…it’s okay…?” he said, trailing off.

I sniffled. “I can’t believe it.”

“Hm?”

“Detail,” I mumbled, wiping my messy eyes on his white shirt.

“Ah!” he shouted as I leaned away and he saw the wet spots. “Oh shoot.” He freed his arm from my grasp so he could pat the stains with the pads of his fingers.

I sniffled and stared up at him, juxtaposed against the unfathomable darkness, eyes downturned to focus on his shirt. “You’re not real, are you?” I asked slowly, edging away. My brain wasn’t tidy enough to worry about a stained shirt…

So whatever he was, he couldn’t be from me.

His eyes flashed back toward me, sweet, heavy-lidded, pupils huge in the dark. “I…yes? Are you?” he asked, then squinted at me with those sweet eyes. “Have you been crying for a while? You’re very red.”

I blinked at him and took a half-step back, not trusting myself to speak again. I glanced down at my bare legs, covered only by frumpy panties and a big shirt, and tried to subtly guide the hemline down the skin of my thighs.

“You…you’re really a real person? Really?” I asked.

He chuckled. “Really really.”

I furrowed my brow and examined him from where I stood several inches shorter. His cheeks went pink under my scrutiny, but it was incomprehensible to me. “I’ve been having these dreams since I was seven and I’ve never seen another person,” I said.

He raised his brows. “Seven?” he asked. “Huh.” He peered down at me. “How old are you now?”

“Does that matter?”

“I’m just trying to make sense of it too,” he said, watching me carefully.

I sighed. “Twenty-two,” I said.

“I’m twenty-four…,” he said with a hum, rubbing his jaw with his right hand. Something about him was oddly intellectual, like he had answers to any question I could conjure. But my heart was still racing, my palms still slick with sweat. No matter how forthcoming he was, he was still a stranger in my dream. “Guess it doesn’t have to do with age. Maybe time?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, frustrated.

He glanced at me before squinting into the darkness. “Well I started having these dreams at age nine,” he began, eyeing me. “Same time you did. I was just two years older.”

“So?”

“Maybe it’s connected?” he asked with a shrug.

“Doctor Kim said-,” I began, then stopped myself short, clamping my mouth shut. I crossed my arms and sighed. “It’s trauma-based. This whole thing.”

“Is it?”

I glanced at him. “Isn’t it?”

He smiled. “I’m not so sure,” he said, then sighed and took a step forward. “Why’s it so dark here?”

“You’ve been having these dreams since you were nine and you don’t know it’s gonna be dark?” I asked, cocking a brow as I sat down on the nothing beneath me.

He blinked at me. “Wait, it’s always like this for you?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Is there anything else it could be?”

He scoffed and crossed his arms, disbelief etched into his features. “Well,” he began, glancing around. “It can be anything, really.”

“Huh?”

Before I could interrogate him further, the blackness around began to give way to something else. Like spilling paint across a canvas, vibrant colors began to bleed from behind the stranger’s back, extending forward toward me. A frightened cry escaped me and I leapt to my feet, scuttling away from the colors as they spread like a drink tipped over. At first, the colors seemed shapeless but as they grew the image began to clear up, revealing soft edges and patterns and before I knew it I was standing on a beach, golden sand between my bare toes, purplish ocean rising and falling behind the man’s back as an invisible tide drew waves against the shore.

Tears pricked my eyes as I stumbled back once again, only this time I felt the warm sand beneath me, cushioning my fall. Gaping, I sat with my legs bent awkwardly on the shoreline’s slope, staring at the endless ocean and the cliffside forming a ring around the beach.

“W-w-what the hell is this?!” I screamed, and my voice didn’t echo, it just seeped through the landscape, swallowed by the sound of the waves. My tears returned, trailing hot down my face.

The stranger approached and crouched beside me, eyes wide. “Shit, I didn’t mean to scare you or anything! It’s just-,”

“Wh-what the fuck are you?” I asked, hands trembling violently. “I-I-I’ve never s-seen it do that.”

He blinked at me, genuine worry in his soft eyes, and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I thought you could do it too.”

“Do what?”

“Control it.”

“Control what?”

“The dream.”

I swiped a hand across my face, wiping my tears, and glanced around the beach. The longer I looked, the more beautiful it was. Like a snapshot in time. The sky was drenched in shades of lilac and amber and the sun seemed to live perpetually against the horizon line, never dipping below. A never-ending sunset. When I inhaled, I could even smell the salty seawater and fresh summertime air.

“What’s your name?” asked the stranger, coming to an uneasy crouch beside me.

I turned my wild eyes toward him and blinked. “Eunbyul,” I said weekly. “Lee Eunbyul.”

He smiled gently and held out his hands for me to shake. I was struck by the memory of Jimin from earlier that morning. Was this perhaps all he was? A manifestation of my memories of the day? “Kim Namjoon,” he said as he clasped his hand around my bandaged palm. “This is a first for me too, you know,” he said as he fell onto his bottom by my thigh.

I glanced at him. “What?”

“Having someone else here,” he said with a chuckle. “Not that I think you’re real.”

“I’m not real?” I asked, eyes wide, as I pointed a finger toward my chest.

He raised his brows. “Well how could you be? It’s not like this is a different dimension. It’s just my dream, right?”

“It’s my dream,” I said. “Listen, you’re really freaking me out.”

He turned to me with a furrowed brow. “Then you’re real? Are you sure?” He then rolled his eyes and rested his chin in his hand. “Stupid question. If you’re something I made up then of course you’re gonna say you’re real.”

“I’m a real person, Namjoon,” I said seriously, meeting his eyes. “I have a sister named Gaeul and a mom named Iseul and a dad named Doyeon. I’m from Sangdo-dong-,”

“You’re from Sangdo-dong?” he asked, eyes wide.

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said, timid pinned underneath his incriminating gaze.

He furrowed his brow and crossed his arms. “Huh.”

“Do you believe me?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can I prove it?” I asked.

He eyed me. “I don’t know.”

I swallowed hard. “Do I really seem like just character you dreamed up?” I asked, rubbing my eyes. “Do you really think your brain is that powerful?”

At this he chuckled and a little bit of the tension I’d been holding in my gut dissolved. I glanced at him, bathed in gentle dying sunlight, and found my proof. There was no way my mind could conjure someone like him. Something magnificent like this scene. I wasn’t equipped like he was.

“How did you do it?” I asked quietly, still scanning his fine features, his honeyed skin.

He raised his brows. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just kind of…do it,” he said with a nod.

I blinked. “That’s super unhelpful.”

He laughed. “Well…I guess the best I can do is say…think of a vivid memory, something really sensory, and try to put yourself there.”

“So you’ve been here before?” I asked, glancing around.

He smiled. “It’s a beach in the town where I live,” he said softly. “I came here when I graduated high school. All alone. And I just watched the waves until night came.”

“And what if I want to go to…I don’t know, Barbados?” I asked.

He laughed, a vibrant, bellowing sound, and his eyes squeezed shut. He hooked his elbows around his knees and grinned at the skyline. “Then I’d say study up.”

“Have you ever done it? Created a place you’ve never been to?” I asked, my curiosity forcing my inhibitions to rest.

He hummed. “Once or twice, but it’s harder. Gotta know what you want to see like the back of your hand for it to work.”

“And you do this every time?”

“Mhm,” he said with an easy smile. “A lucid dream is defined as a dream during which dreamers, while dreaming, are aware they are dreaming,” he said, sounding like an encyclopedia. Like he had it memorized. “That’s what specialists say.”

“So this is just a lucid dream to you?”

“Is it not a lucid dream to you?” he asked, raising his brows.

I blinked, mouth agape, and returned my eyes to the sea. “I never thought of it that way,” I said quietly, picking at the skin around my nails. “I guess since I couldn’t control them…”

He smiled. “But you can,” he said. “It’s your dream after all.”

I turned to him, brows furrowed, and exhaled slowly. “It’s my dream…,” I repeated with a nod. I turned to glance at the ocean. “I think I figured out a way to prove I’m real.”

“Mm?”

“If I can show you something you’ve never seen…that would be enough, right?” I asked, watching the waves lapping the shore.

He smiled. “I suppose.”

I nodded and squeezed my eyes shut. I focused on all my senses. The scent of old wood, pancakes cooking in the kitchen, far away. The feeling of Mom’s quilt beneath my fingertips, the cool air-conditioning blowing strands of hair around my face. The sound of muffled conversation through the walls, footsteps falling through the wood-floored hallways. The way my bed looked, tucked in a corner beside the window, white sheer curtains blowing with the breeze that Mom scolded me for letting in, the dresser in the corner, the narrow door, my box of toys half-open by the bed. I saw and felt it all so vividly I was certain that when I opened my eyes-

There it was.

I blinked at the dark wood paneling of my childhood bedroom, the beams criss-crossing overhead, the shiny floor. A few scoffing breaths escaped my lips in uneasy puffs, but before I could say a single thing, a voice retrieved me from my reverie.

“Wow,” said Namjoon from beside me.

And with that, the illusion crumbled and my bedroom faded away like sand through my fingertips. The image slipped in the blink of an eye, leaving behind only the black emptiness of nothing, all around us. I swallowed the lump in my throat and stared at the blackness for a few tense seconds. It had been there. My room had really, truly been there right before my eyes. I could feel it, smell it, touch it. Like I was right there.

I glanced at Namjoon and found him smirking at me. “Well,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ve certainly never seen that before.”

Before I could reply, I felt a vague tugging sensation in my chest, like I was being yanked from the inside. “Oh,” I breathed.

He glanced down at his own chest and nodded. “Yeah, me too.”

“W-wait!” I called, resisting the pull and reaching my desperate, clinging hands out to him once more. I grabbed his forearm in my hands and stared up at him, pleading. “I…I don’t wanna go yet,” I said, shaking my head. “I have so much to ask you.”

He smiled gently and gave my hand a pat. “It was nice to meet you, Eunbyul,” he said, taking a step away from me and breaking the tether of my grip. My hands fell to my sides and the pull became too strong to fight.

“Namjoon!” I called, but my voice was fading and so was he. “I’ll come back! I swear!”

“Maybe we’ll see each other again,” he said with an echoing laugh. “Maybe even in real life.”

I felt like I might cry again. So much had happened in one night. The fear I’d always harbored for this dark nightmare was all but gone. In its wake, anticipation so great it threatened to sweep me away like the inescapable force of a tide.

I awoke panting, sweat beading along my hairline. I swallowed hard past the dryness in my throat and reached for my water bottle, removing my glasses from the bridge of my nose and slipping them onto the table. I usually didn’t sleep with those things on. I drank greedily, shutting my eyes, and ran a hand through my hair before collapsing once more against the cushion of my bed. 4:03.

I huffed and set the bottle aside, lying still on my back and staring at the fuzzy outline of the ceiling, unable to see it properly with my glasses.

Again, I was awake before the sun.

Only this time, I couldn’t remember what sort of dream had woken me up.

#namjoon fanfic #namjoon fanfiction #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #namjoon au #bts series #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts imagine #bts reaction #bts fluff #bts angst #namjoon x oc #bts x oc #bts au fanfic #bts au

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stallionsoul · 5 years ago

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RELATIONSHIP & PERMANENT PLOTTER CALL.

In alignment with her debut for the anime, please take this relationship/permanent plotter call!

(TRAUMA & PTSD MENTION BELOW!)

For those of you who don’t know too much about Fruits Basket, a quick overview is that there are 13 cursed zodiac members. Rin has the spirit of the horse whenever she hugs or is embraced by men and same idea for cursed male members with women. Of her clan, Rin is initially a very rigid, untrusting, and hurt individual. She has a strong sense of right and wrong but can be naive due to wanting to do things on her own, accepting help even at her own expense. She’s prone to illness and body aches due to trauma she experienced in her early childhood. She also has some degree of PTSD and is triggered when she’s pushing at her mental and physical limits, which unfortunately is a lot.

Beyond that, she is a kind, overprotective girl who wants nothing more than to break her family curse. Her being in Spirale is stressing her out because she is hyper-vigilant and that any moment, something bad will happen to those she cares about. Once she does get used to Spirale however, I can see this guard going down and her wanting to protect the people here and her new home.

So that’s a bit of her!

That being said, there are many ideas floating in my head for threads and types of relationships with her! Before I begin, let’s get the technical stuff out of the way. By liking this post I have your permission to:

Message you via IMs and plot things between our muses! I would very much like that you have an idea in mind for what type of relationship you’d like with Rin, but otherwise we can work on that stuff together! We can have a full on “first introduction” thread or plan for “semi/pre-established”, whatever the circumstance I am all ears!

Tag you during Meme Days or spur-of-the-moment type starters? Again, depending on our muses’ relationship with one another, but still offering it as an option!

Talk via Twitter DMs or Discord (please msg me for it!)

Do light plotting between our muses! I don’t like to go down the book, line-by-line, but I do like to have a general idea of what we will do with our muses.

And without further ado, time for Relationship Types! Listed under a Read More for length.

Acquaintanceship:

The very minimum which is okay. Rin doesn’t like small talk, so even this level of relationship is difficult. She doesn’t go out of her way to know your muse, but over time their relationship can develop into anything else! She does her best to keep her distance, as she doesn’t want to get attached for any reason. That, and she doesn’t want others to get attached to her. If they were working together or taking classes, she would just do the bare minimum.

Friendship:

This would take some time to get to. She has walls upon walls upon w a l l s. She refuses to let people in as much as she wants to. While she’s tough on the outside, on the inside she longs for companionship and to be close to others. So once she gets friends who’ll accept her and treat her with respect and understanding, she will be your friend for life. She’s overprotective and thoughtful so if your muse is ever in trouble or needs support, she is there for them instantly. She’s a bit tsun, so she will act like she doesn’t care at first but she’ll show that she cares in her actions and her presence. One a friend, she will be a friend forever.

Found Family:

This makes the mun misty eyed because her deepest desire is to have a family who cares for her. After her parents disowned and abandoned her at a young age, she’s been searching for that parental/familial love for most of her life. She technically has a parental figure in mind BUT! It never hurts to have more? If not parents, she is the best big sister type for younger muses. She cares for children so much and will protect them with all that she physically can. This also includes spoiling them (even if she denies it), arguing with them as a big sister might, and possibly teasing them if they bring it upon themselves. She could also be a younger sister type for older muses? In her canon, she does have a couple older relatives she does look up to!

Unrequited Love / One Sided:

This has always been something I wanted to explore even with other muses, but I would love for Rin to experience one-sided love or for your muse to experience for her! This is a specific thing, I know, but I can definitely see Rin harbor a crush on someone and not have it returned. She is drawn towards kind, soft-hearted individuals and would absolutely wish to receive their love. That being said, because she refuses to let her emotional walls down, she won’t be easy to sway. That and because of her cripplingly low self-esteem/self-worth, she doesn’t see herself being acceptable of love or acceptance, so she will have feelings all on her own. These feelings will go away as she gets to know your muse, but when she does feel that burning longing, she harbors it deep and will never let it be known by your muse.

Romantic:

I have HC’ed Rin as being bi--so this is an open playing field! Like the above category, this will be SUPER DUPER HARD TO OBTAIN. Rin has nonexistent self esteem in the romance department. She has only ever been with one person but I pulled her canon point from after she broke up with him, so that wound is a bit fresh. While she loves him dearly, where she ‘diverges’ from her canon is that she doesn’t see herself getting back together with him. I feel it would be nice for her to move on and to experience love again, no matter how long that takes. Rin is extremely hard on herself and refuses to ever let herself be loved again, let alone romantically, so while there are budding emotions between her and your muse, she’ll continue to deny them. It will take a lot of coaxing, support, and patience to be with her. Once they are together, however, she is the most loving, supportive, sweetest, affectionate girl. She’ll be prone to tears and deep blushing, so prepare for that haha. There’s definitely got to be chemistry between our muses, but she does prefer kind, gentle, (kinda dumb of ass energy), and emotionally intelligent individuals!

Enemies:

There can be VARIOUS ideas with this. Rin is easily confrontational and prone to anger, so it would not be difficult to fall into this category. It comes off as a defense mechanism/survival tactic when she distances herself from your muse and sees them as a threat, it’s definitely easier to manage. They may not see eye to eye on certain things, or perhaps your muse is a garbage human being and enjoys inflicting pain onto others. Either way, if you’re Rin’s enemy and continue to rub her the wrong way, there’s a slim to 0% chance of her ever forgiving your muse. She may not be a fighter, but if she’s provoked she will try to fight back.It won’t end well for her, I can imagine. She’s a bit more bark than bite, but when she bites, she bites hard. She will hold some fear or anxiety being around your muse if they continue to pursue her or aggravate her.

Manipulator/Manipulatee:

On the subset of enemies: because Rin, at times, can be gullible if your character is persuasive or a master manipulator, she can fall under their whims in exchange for something she may need or want. In canon, she tried to go against the head of her house, only to be punished for it. I put this here because as much as I love Rin, I am curious to see what kind of stress she would go under if she was to meet other, terrible, abusive muses who would not hesitate to use her for their own gain. THIS BEING SAID: THIS IS ONLY FROM AN EMOTIONAL/MENTAL STANDPOINT. IN NO INSTANCE WILL THIS BE SEXUAL / DUBCON.

Other?:

Anything outside these categories? Let me know! Mentor/mentee, Boss/employee (if she ever gets a job!), Coworkers, non-humans (she feels like she is because she can transform into a horse), rivals? Whatever idea you got, I’m open to listen!

#long post #♞ ooc - ᴜɴʟɪᴋᴇ ᴏᴜʀsᴇʟᴠᴇs #isola starter call #isola rp ad #isola plotting call #TWAS A LOT!!! but please take this and get to know my horse girl... ; _ ;

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relenafanel · 6 years ago

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The Scarlet Pimpernel AU - a Patreon Reward Fic

for @ohsweetcrepes and based on the scarlet pimpernel tag (it was basically a given that I would write this for her)

[warning for recreational drug use whoops; established relationship; politics]

Steve adjusted the bandana covering his mouth and nose and squinted through the mass of people in front of him. The protection wouldn’t do much against teargas but it would help hide his identity. He’d arrived to the rally late after finishing up his article, and he observed the crowd carefully to judge the general mood. There was an energy thrumming, anger and discontent, and a hope of change. He could feel it on his skin, giving him goosebumps. It felt like revolution.

These things often did, but the feeling was starting to perforate the general population and each protest had more and more people attending. Things were happening, people were speaking up and noticing, and Steve couldn’t see any place for himself except in the middle of it.

It was the least he could do. Sometimes change started by just showing up.

Steve couldn’t understand how anyone could just sit back and wait instead of doing something about it. He didn’t understand complacency towards government corruption, not when the alternative was this. But then, he’d come to accept that radical action wasn’t for everyone.

The press of people moved forward, and Steve watched as the police started to push back. Pierce’s proposed policies against peaceful protests for the protection of the police and citizens made sense to too many people who didn’t question the implications it had against freedom for non-violent expression against the government.

Steve wasn’t close enough to see which side turned violent first, but he started to push his way through the crowd to get to the center of it, because that was why he did this. It wasn’t for the first-hand insight for an article – though that was a pleasant side-benefit – and it wasn’t for the glory. He didn’t want to see anyone getting hurt, but if and when things turned violent, well Steve threw a fantastic punch.

Someday he’d have a chance to use it on Pierce’s face. He didn’t care whether or not the man recognized him when he did. He did care whether or not it would lose him Bucky, but Steve was beginning to understand that Bucky might not blink an eye. His boyfriend might be the type to worry more about his manicure and outwardly express ‘let them eat cake’ when it came to political matters, but there was something beneath the surface when it came to his step-father that Steve couldn’t put his finger on.

Bucky was civil and polite, almost to the point of pontification.

It made Steve wonder.

And just when the tide of movement turned violent, the Winter Soldier was there with his performative muzzle and non-descript uniform, cutting through the crowd that parted for him like each footstep exuded a sense of get-the-fuck-out-of-my-way. Steve had seen people on Twitter call it a murder strut, and in the exposé Steve wrote he’d referred to it as a powerful statement of willpower.

The Winter Soldier stood between both sides, holding his hands out to stop the action. “There are two men in a black van a block from here with machine guns. They’ve been hired to make martyrs and villains of all of us to prove Pierce’s bill. Don’t let them get away with tyranny.” He said in a voice that carried through the entire park.

It was a tense moment, a stillness before action, before people reacted in fear.

The Winter Soldier moved to disappear in the chaos. Steve had learned a long time ago that following where he went was like playing a shell game of misdirection. He moved to his left, intent on questioning The Winter Soldier about whether what he said was true or a ruse.

He found himself getting swallowed by the fleeing crowd, and when he looked up he spotted Winter on a fire escape. The man seemed to see Steve at the same time Steve saw him, and he hesitated for a moment before climbing the rest of the way to the roof.

Steve swore and followed.

The roof was empty by the time he got to it. He stood there for a moment, wondering if he should take a chance by picking a direction to jump between buildings. Guesswork might not getting him anywhere but trapped on a roof with no access to the ground (or worse). Steve wasn’t a quitter, but he also knew that Winter would come find him eventually.

x.x.x.

Or immediately. Steve unlocked his car door to find Winter sitting in the passenger seat, feet up on the dash and mask still firmly in place. Steve had never seen him without it, not even while he was interviewing the man, and he respected Winter’s privacy and never asked.

“So was it true,” Steve asked as he pulled out of the parking lot. He’d parked an entire subway stop away. He didn’t know how Winter tracked him down, whether it was hacking skills, a bug on his car, or if Winter just knew him.

“I found out from someone close to the man himself.”

So it was true. It was the kind of reign of terror that Steve never expected to be a part of when he was taking his Political Science degree, but then he’d learned a lot about the reality of his country since then. There were people on American soil who’d always known.

“I could use someone closer,” Winter told him after Steve had been silently reflecting for a while. “Someone he’d never expect.”

“You’re not getting him,” Steve said in a rush, before his brain even realized Winter was talking about Bucky. “I tried feeling it out months ago. He doesn’t have the head for politics or intrigue. Maybe if you wanted to know what shoes all of Pierce’s staff members where wearing he could help you out.”

“I suppose he loves his father,” Winter sneered. “Would never want to see him lose power.”

Steve reflected on that for a moment. “I’m not sure love is the word.”

That seemed to surprise Winter as Steve pulled up to Bucky’s condo complex. He hadn’t meant to go to Bucky’s apartment, but all the talk of him had influenced Steve’s driving subconsciously.

“I don’t know why you stay,” the Winter Soldier finally said to Steve as Steve used his keyfob to gain entry to Bucky’s parking garage. It was opulent to the extreme, and so far removed from where they’d just been that it felt like a disconnect. Steve paused for a second because it wasn’t a question and didn’t really need an answer, but it felt like a small betrayal not to give one.

“Because we all need something normal that keeps us sane,” he finally said. A few months ago he might have laughed at Bucky Barnes being normal, but Steve’s definition of the term had shifted the more he got to know Bucky.

“He’s Pierce’s son, and he just lets all this happen. You hate people who don’t do their part,” Winter scoffed, pulling his feet off the dash. “Look at all this wealth. Don’t you feel how oppressive it is? The man I met could barely afford his basement studio apartment, and here you are playing boytoy to the 1%. You’ve got to be getting some kind of intel from it – an exclusive inside look?”

“It’s not about getting information,” Steve replied, pulling into Bucky’s second parking spot. Bucky’s car was still there, but that didn’t mean much. Bucky was marginally responsible about not driving under the influence and usually took an Uber out at night. Steve could never be sure if he was home until he unlocked the door of Bucky’s apartment and went looking for him.

“Do you at least get good blowjobs for your sacrifice, or are you just rolling over like—”

“Don’t,” Steve said in a firm voice, gripping Winter’s shoulder. “I respect what you do, but if you continue speaking, I won’t respect you as a person. We’re not friends, and I don’t allow anyone to speak to me like that, or to talk shit about my boyfriend.”

It was hard to read Winter’s expressions behind the mask, and he always kept his body in rigid control. Despite that, Steve got the sense he’d managed to stun the man who put himself in the middle of two sides of a protest. “You’re better than this.”

“I guess not,” Steve told him. “Now get out of my car.”

x.x.x.

“Hi! You’re here!” Bucky said cheerfully as he slipped out of his shoes and then fought his way out of his leather jacket with great difficulty. He swayed a little in the entrance and then used the furniture to help him walk towards Steve. His shirt was ridiculously see-through, and his pants were so low-hung Steve wondered if the only thing keeping them up was his dick.

He looked great.

He practically fell on top of Steve on the couch, nuzzling his head up under Steve’s chin. “Glad I came home,” he said, tucking his hands between Steve’s back and the couch pillow. Then he hummed in contentment.

“Are you high?” Steve asked.

“A little,” Bucky admitted. “Only pot this time. Mostly drunk.”

“Let’s get you to bed,” Steve said in an indulgent tone, leaving his book on top of Bucky’s couch, and moving to lever himself up. Bucky clung to him in a way that hindered his movements.

“No. I want to just stay like this for a moment,” Bucky told him, and somehow held tighter. “My Uber driver was listening to the news on the radio.”

Steve’s hand settled into Bucky’s hair. He was reminded of how sweet Bucky was when they were children. Beneath all the pomp and the ridiculous outfits and the partying, that Bucky was still there.

“I went to your place first,” Bucky admitted. “You weren’t there.”

“I’m sorry.”

Bucky didn’t ask whether Steve had been at the protest. He didn’t need to. They might not have the type of relationship most people thought of when they met Steve, but the Steve who craved commitment and someone to talk to about his interests went out the window the moment Bucky gave him a coy smile and cocked his hip like he knew what Steve needed. Maybe, someday, Steve would worry about not finding those things with Bucky.

He felt at peace in Bucky’s arms, and a lot of Steve’s life wasn’t peaceful.

Bucky made him feel like a normal 20-something.

“I still have a little left if you want to relax,” Bucky offered, wriggling so he could reach into his pocket and pull out a joint. It looked a little sad from being crammed somewhere with absolutely no space. He looked at Steve’s face and seemed satisfied by whatever he saw there. “Get on my level,” he offered with a seductive grin, sitting up and reaching for a lighter. He was so dangerous because he was a temptation Steve wasn’t able to resist indulging in. “Then we can fuck. I haven’t in days,” he said with a roll of his hips and a small hitch of breath.

Steve grasped Bucky’s hip with one hand and took the offered joint with the other.

“Yeah,” Bucky breathed as Steve inhaled. “God, you’re beautiful.”

x.x.x.

Bucky didn’t mind Steve using his computer. He didn’t really have anything to hide, his life an open book, and his taste in porn not something he kept a secret anyway. Steve never went snooping through his files, but Bucky wasn’t great about closing tabs, so he knew Bucky was considering joining a CycleYoga class and had ordered a new dildo. Not exactly things the FBI would monitor him for.

Steve, on the other hand, tended to write inciteful blog articles and would go down with freedom of the press as it kept getting squashed under what felt like a fascist dictatorship.

He was working for two hours before Bucky wandered into his kitchen completely naked, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and finished half of it. He had a bite mark on his shoulder from Steve’s mouth, and didn’t look nearly as hung over as Steve had seen him.

Steve just had enough time to hit save on his article before Bucky was sliding into his lap, showing off his flexibility a little by easily straddling Steve without pulling out the chair. “I love getting you stoned,” he said, scraping his teeth over the curve of Steve’s neck. “You get all lazy and selfish in bed.”

Steve made a face. “How can you love that?”

Bucky grinned, and Steve could feel it against his skin. “You just kind of lie there and let me use your dick and look at me like you can’t believe I exist and you can’t believe any of it is real. Like. You just stare at me in wonder. Usually you’re kind of a take-charge kind of lay, and I like that about you, but…”

“Sometimes you want to do the work?” Steve filled in.

“Yeah. Would you let me fuck you? I kind of wanted to last night, but we never discussed it so I wouldn’t presume.”

“Of course,” Steve replied, pushing Bucky’s laptop back on the table so he could lift Bucky on to it and lean into his space. “Now, if you want.”

Bucky smiled at him the way Steve expected Bucky to smile over getting permission for a new sex position – pleased, like someone who’d been given a fun present to open – but there was something else in his expression that Steve couldn’t put his finger on. Something predatory and intent, less like a fun present and more like the keys to a door that had been firmly locked. “Not now,” he answered, like that took effort. Then the expression was gone in a blink. “That can be something fun for later,” he promised with a nip at Steve’s lower lip. “Come back to bed. I need you.”

#stucky #fanfiction: drabble #pimpernel au #recreational drug use #they get high and fuck #off-screen #steve rogers #bucky barnes #the nyc patreon

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athyrabunlord · 6 years ago

Text

LLSHP AU (S) - First Task

Main Story: [LLSHP AU - Yoshiko Tsushima and the Fallen Angel]

[Brief note about School Term] [other LLSHP AU stuff] [YohaMaRuby concept arts] [ChikaYouRiko concept arts] [KanaDiaMari concept arts] [Hogwarts Staff]

[FFN link] [Pixiv Link] [Translated to Chinese by plin2290]

Sequel blips: TriWizard Tournament series- [First Task] [Yule Ball]

A/N: As per twitter vote from a while ago, I’m starting with a blip in the SequelTimeline (hence the (S) behind the usual tag of LLSHP AU). This is part of the TriWizard Tournament series. I’ll try to keep them as consequential as possible, but the blips’ might be all over the place depending on my muse. We’ll see XD;

Note: This blip takes place a year after ch21 of the MainStory, meaning chikayouriko are FifthYears and yoshimaruby are ThirdYears.

“The Beauxbaton champion has drawn the Ukrainian Ironbelly.”

Ruby Kurosawa could barely hear the noise outside the tent. Everything is muffled except for the pounding of her terrified heart. The Hogwarts uniform has never felt so heavy, so suffocating on her body, and she has to loosen her scarf a bit just to breathe a little better.

Shizuku Osaka gives them a graceful courtesy and holds up the miniature Dragon for the officials’ view one more time. Before it could breathe fire like its real-life counterpart, a swift but powerful Freezing Charm tames the replica, which she then affixes onto her brooch like an ornament.

Composed and elegant, the black-haired Beauxbaton champion is just as what her school is known for.

“Please proceed.”

Leah Kazuno calmly takes a step forward and reaches into the bag to draw her opponent. The petite but imposing Durmstrang champion remains unfazed even as she reveals the miniature creature in her palm for the officials to see. The leopard-like beast has a body full of spikes akin to a cactus, and it is growling warily with its intelligent eyes glancing at its surroundings.

“The Durmstrang champion has drawn the Nundu.”

Ruby swallows hard. That’s another dangerous level-5 magical creature, one that requires teams of highly qualified wizards and witches to subdue! Just how insane is this TriWizard Tournament?!

While she is on the verge of hyperventilating, Leah taps the replica with her wand, stilling its movement through a non-verbal petrificus totalus. Scoffing, she coolly gives it back to one of the officials before smoothly healing her prickled hand.

Fearless and professional, the sharp-eyed Durmstrang champion is every inch the representative of her school.

“Please proceed.”

Ruby tries not to flinch as she places her hand on the hilt of the Kurosawa heirloom, desperate to rein in her composure. After one deep breath, she approaches the official and shakily reaches into the bag. A sharp sting almost makes her drop the miniature beast but she perseveres and holds it up high.

She blanches at the growling replica in her palm.

A human-like head, a lion’s body and a scorpion’s tail. It’s unmistakable what she has to face in the First Task of the TriWizard Tournament.

“The Hogwarts champion has drawn the Manticore.”

Her heart plummets and with it, strangely, so does her fear. A peculiar sense of numbness washes over her, a resigned sort of acceptance that this is her fate and she must overcome it. She glances down at her hand, where the miniature Manticore’s stinger had pierced her palm. The sight of blood, no matter how little, still makes her stomach churn, though it also boosts her confidence.

She had bled way more before, and she lived. She can and will do this. As if sensing her grim resolve, the replica grins up at her before hopping back into the bag.

The Minister of Magic clears his throat, garnering everyone’s attention, though she has difficulty concentrating on his speech. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see Professor Koizumi gazing at her with concern, and so she stands up a little straighter and holds up her chin high. She will do her Head of the House proud.

“... that said, we understand these three creatures are highly dangerous and could not be subdued even by teams of trained Hit-wizards under normal circumstances. Therefore, these beasts were specially selected by our Board and collaborators. A warrior from the Goblin Nation, Arkus, has graciously offered his help should it be necessary to stop the Ukrainian Ironbelly.”

At this, a scarred and bearded Goblin bows brusquely, his stance just as regal and intimidating as the massive battle axe he is holding. Perhaps it is ingrained in her upbringing through the Patriarch’s lectures, for Ruby innately feels respect as well as wariness towards the small humanoid.

“And Mr. Scamander will also be on the standby to tame his Nundu, which he has kindly provided for this Tournament.”

Ruby nods at the amiable wizard, whom she has met a few times at the Estate as the Patriarch’s valued guest. Kanan and Mari have talked about him as well, having traveled around the world with the famous Magizoologist a few times last year.

“Last but not least, Professor Toujou of Hogwarts has already negotiated with the chosen Manticore, and the beast has agreed to act only within the rules of this Tournament.”

The ever-enigmatic Head of Ravenclaw gives Ruby an encouraging wink then, prompting her to smile back in relief. Everything seems to be well under control. While the Tournament is known to have caused deaths in the past, surely this one would be all okay with the way the Board arranged for various scenarios.

The officials then exit the tent with the Beauxbaton champion to debrief her, and the remaining adults follow suit to prepare the arena as well. Ruby suddenly finds herself alone with the scowling Durmstrang champion.

“How fortunate you are, Kurosawa heiress. I bet your Professor has already made a special deal for you to win.”

Leah’s expression is blank, her eyes carefully guarded, but her voice is as vicious as poison. Ruby turns to face her peer and she is vaguely aware that her legs are no longer shaking.

“No. She trusts me, and I trust her. Hogwarts will never resort to cheating.”

“Then what was that look of relief on your face?”

“Knowing that there wouldn’t be any casualties among the bystanders.”

Leah’s expression darkens. “Is that all? Aren’t you scared? I saw you shivering like a pathetic rabbit since the moment you entered the tent. You don’t belong here. You should forfeit, for your own good.”

“I’m scared, very scared.” Ruby couldn’t help but smile at the tremor in her voice. She really hasn’t changed much over the years, but she is also proud to acknowledge that she has become stronger too. “But I will not run away. The Goblet of Fire chose me for a reason. Thanks for being worried about me though.”

“You wish. I just don’t want you to ruin the prestige of this Tournament.” Leah snarls, her stance rigid and proud. “Think of the mess if there’s already death in the First Task.”

“Of course, I don’t want to die either,” Ruby’s grip tightens on the hilt of the sabre. “I… I’m scared of pain, I can’t handle it, but I know I can face death if things were to reach that point.”

“Oh?” Leah’s demeanor loosens slightly, as if she hasn’t expected such response.

“I’ve already faced it before.” The faint pink scars from sectumsempra are visible reminders of what she had experienced on that terrible night, but compared to what her precious friends and family have endured back then, this Tournament should be within her ability to handle.

She, Ruby Kurosawa, is Hogwarts’ champion after all.

========================

Judging from all the gasps, cheers and applause outside the tent, Ruby is certain that Leah has succeeded in her Task just as Shizuku had. Both champions did not take more than ten minutes to achieve their objective, which is to retrieve a wooden box that their respective opponent is guarding. Each of them is only allowed to cast five spells, whether it be a Charm, Curse, Hex and so on, and the box can only be moved through actual contact, not by magic. It is meant to test the champion’s resourcefulness, wit and raw magical power, as well as their physical abilities.

Ruby has no plan whatsoever.

Her knowledge of the Manticore is limited to what she has studied in her family library. All those articles talk of how extremely dangerous the violent magical beast is, of how its magically resilient skin render wizards’ spells useless and thus there have only been one or two recorded triumphs against such creature. How is she, a mere Third-Year, supposed to get past the Manticore’s guard?

She stares hard at her wand, hoping to draw strength and guidance from the Holly and dragon heartstring core. She wishes for her friends and her sister to be with her right now, instead of being in this tent alone with her paranoid mind. To be fair for each school, no one is permitted to make contact with the champion, not even their respective Headmaster. Earlier, Chika and You have already tried to sneaked in but were quickly dragged away by their House Head before the officials noticed.

Ruby would have welcomed the Gryffindor duo’s presence. Her bravado earlier has faded enough for the small critter part to emerge, causing her thoughts to sink deeper to the pessimistic end as the clock ticks by. It’s not because she doesn’t believe in her own strength but more because of the countless scenarios against such a terrifying opponent. She does enjoy the thrill of challenges to an extent, perhaps due to the duo’s influence over the years, so she tries to focus on that positive thought.

“Hogwarts’ champion, please enter the arena.”

Whimpering, Ruby wipes at her damp eyes one last time before standing up. With every step she takes, the fear is gradually left behind and that sense of numbness has returned once more. There is no running away now.

A thunderous cheer greets her as soon as she enters the Pit, which has been modified to accommodate the spectators and the Task. A quick glance reassures Ruby that various officials are stationed around the arena, especially for the guest section to ensure safety. Whatever happens between her and the Manticore will not affect the innocents.

When she walks past the student bleachers, she waves bashfully at the applauding Ravenclaws and searches the crowd for her future sister-in-law. She soon finds Riko and relaxes under her encouraging smile. The House of Hufflepuff is deafening in their cheers with, surprisingly, Professor Koizumi and Hanamaru being the loudest. Ruby could feel her ears burning, half embarrassed but half elated as well at such display of support from her best friend and Head of House.

As if not wanting to lose, Chika and You lead the Gryffindor section in the cheers with their flamboyant banners and Charmed fireworks. It’s over the top, really, but also so very like them. Ruby couldn’t but wave back just as energetically at the Head Girl and the Quidditch star. Passing shadows overhead prompt her to look up and smile at Pana and Lucifer. The two familiars are gliding and circling to keep with her pace, as if to act as her escorts. Fiery words of encouragement soar through the sky after them, providing entertainment for the onlookers. Ruby doesn’t have to glance at the Slytherin section to know that it is Yoshiko’s work, though her peers must have pitched in to help her control this Charm in order for it to work on such grand scale.

By the time Ruby reaches the Professors’ bleachers, she is smiling not just to reassure her friends but also out of genuine joy and love for them and her school. The Hogwarts staff are also clapping politely, some more exuberantly than the others. Dia looks tense but she is smiling as well, with a familiar golden cat draped on her shoulder and a large wolf head peering over the seat beside her. Kanan and Mari must have pretended to be Dia’s pets to sneak into this guest section. At Ruby’s hesitant wave, Kanan howls loudly and Mari swishes her tail like a flag, prompting Dia to frown and tug at her friends’ ears. Undeterred, the married couple continue to make a lot of noise and motions, making Dia sigh in exasperation.

The familiar comical interaction loosens Ruby enough for her to remember to bow in front of the Kurosawa Patriarch and her parents. The old austere wizard is not smiling and only gives her a brusque nod, but those who know him well can see the fierce pride in his eyes.

Shizuku seems amused at the lively display at her entrance, while Leah is wearing the darkest scowl ever. Both champions look disheveled, with Shizuku’s hair ribbon somewhat singed and Leah’s cloak having claw-shaped rips, but at least they appear mostly unharmed.

Ruby allows a quiet sigh of relief to slip past her lips. Her fellow champions made it through and there are no injured spectators. She nods at the panel of referees and the official standing just at the edge of the arena.

“Are you ready?”

With one brisk turn, she takes out her wand and takes one step inside the field of boulders and rocks. A cool brush of magic indicates that a powerful protective shroud must have been activated, keeping both combatants trapped within the arena as well as to shield the audience. At this point, all Ruby could hear are her quickened heartbeats and the sinister rumbling from the enormous beast at the other end of the modified Pit.

The Manticore is grisly to look at, like a creative project gone horribly wrong. Whereas the Sphinx appears majestic despite having a human head and the body of a lion, the Manticore is like a mutated and bloodthirsty version due to its wild mane and rows of sharp fangs. Its scorpion stinger tail is poised high in warning as it paces back and forth in front of the wooden box, her objective. Its powerful paws make heavy sounds on the gravel, its predatory eyes trained on her the moment she entered.

“So this is what I’m up against, a little rabbit,” the sentient creature’s voice sounds disturbingly human without any hint of a growl. “Ladies first then, so the show won’t be over too quickly.”

The insult almost makes Ruby smile in bittersweet nostalgia. Everyone tend to underestimate her and for the longest time, she had believed their evaluation to be true.

Not anymore. I’m not strong, but I’m not weak either. She could feel magic flowing steadily between her hand and her wand.

“I’m ready.” She tells the official without glancing at him. A hush falls over the arena but she could barely feel the eyes watching for. The Manticore is grinning at her, slowly licking its lips. A vague plan forms in her mind and she exhales deeply.

As soon as the wizard signals the start of her first Task, she raises her wand and shouts. “Expecto patronum!”

The amused beast barely moves even as the silver black jaguar snarls at it, an empty threat due to its intangible form. In spite of the confused murmurs in the background, Ruby finds herself smiling as the sight of her Patronus boosts her confidence. She is no longer alone in facing this terrifying monster.

“Wingardium leviosa!”

The huge boulders tremble from the Levitation Charm but only the medium-sized rocks actually float towards the center. The Manticore remains unfazed, even yawning tauntingly at the gradually increasing number of rocks gathering in the middle. Ruby keeps her arm steady in spite of the strain of such area spell and pours forth even more magic.

“Accio!”

Her third chosen spell summons the Kurosawa heirloom from outside the arena and she directs it towards the growing rock pile. The Manticore tenses at last, growling in anticipation and pawing at the ground. Just as the creature begins to run, Ruby yelps a string of incantations, moving her wand in sharp jabs.

The fourth and fifth spell is a combination of an advanced Transfiguration and a Charm, developed by You and herself under Professor Minami’s supervision. Ruby almost buckles from the strain of magical output but perseveres, willing and shaping the rocks into the image in her mind while the sabre acts as a focal point.

Rocks gather and morph around the the sabre, forming a long tail that eventually connects to a massive body with four limbs and an armored head.

Gasps and shouts could be heard from the audience and the Manticore stops abruptly, wary of the animated shape blocking its path. The grotesque replica raises its rocky tail, the sabre’s blade glinting under the sunlight, and lunges at its living counterpart.

Its movements are awkward and jerky but there is undeniable power behind each of its pounding footsteps. The real Manticore laughs haughtily when it tries to swerve around the slower clone and almost got slashed by its surprisingly fast tail. The two creatures crash into each other soon after, tearing and biting and gouging with the scorpion tail. The Manticore is undeterred by its opponent’s body of rocks, clawing and digging through the cracks, breaking the Transfigured creature from raw strength alone. For such a gigantic beast, it is nimble and agile, cleverly dodging the Kurosawa sabre instead of parrying it, knowing the blade would injure it whereas no magic could.

Ruby shivers instinctively from all that noise of the savage fight, though she manages to force her legs to move. She runs towards the boulders, ducking for cover when she hears a snarl rather close by. Worse comes to worst, she still has her wand to protect herself even though it meant being disqualified for using more than five spells. She could vaguely feel the tug of her magic animating the replica and, with a pained grunt, she increases the output towards her creation and wills it to endure the assault longer.

As soon as the boosted Transfigured beast collides against the Manticore, she dashes towards the end of the field. Many times she is tempted to look over the shoulder, to see if the monstrous creature is chasing her, to check if her creation is still standing, but flight mode is commanding her action and all she could to do is keep going.

Almost there.

Her lungs burn from the exertion and her throat aches from the screams she keeps fighting down.

Right there, on that patch of grass.

She almost stumbles at the abrupt cut of magic, indicating that her stone creation is no more.

She dives for the wooden box, tucking and rolling, just in time to dodge the Manticore’s tail slash. Panting, she glares up in defiance at the grinning beast. Its mane is wilder than before, covered in rubble that is doubtlessly from when it obliterated the replica, and its magically immune skin is unmarred by any of the replica’s attacks.

Ruby rolls to the side just as its massive paw comes down on her, sprinkling dust and causing the ground to quake under the force. Before it could pounce upon her though, a silver silhouette leaps in front of her protectively.

Startled, the Manticore could only stare at the proud black jaguar Patronus, which shimmers brightly under its caster’s fearless gaze. The stalemate lasts for a while but neither side relents. Ruby barely dares to breathe, her wand not raised but gripped tightly and ready for action.

“… it cannot attack me. I can just jump through it and rip your throat out,” the Manticore’s fanged grin widens when Ruby glares back even as her legs begin to tremble. “Yet, I find myself unable to move in awe of its power.”

From the corner of her vision, she notices the officials and Professor Toujou already on the standby. Ruby’s friends are all at the edge of the arena as well, blocked by the shield but their wands already poised for action.

The announcer takes a step forward and speaks firmly. “The champion has already acquired the wooden box.”

”Silence, human. You don’t look tasty, but you’ll do.” The Manticore sits down on its haunches and growls menacingly at the wizard who dares to point his wand at it. Professor Toujou clears her throat, prompting the Manticore to relax slightly and roll its eyes. “I know I know, don’t harangue me, Nozomi.”

Ruby blinks when the beast suddenly grins at her. “I concede, Kurosawa heiress.”

A deafening roar from the audience follows the Manticore’s words, drowning out even the official announcement of her victory. Tears well up in Ruby’s eyes but she barely feels them as she finds herself buried under her friend’s tackling hugs.

Miraculously, she has overcome the First Task.

============================

Ruby finds her mind drifting away to blissful peace as she licks at her lollipop. It’s one of her favorite snacks but it’s been a while since she’s indulged herself in the treat. As a Third-Year and a Prefect, she’s decided to cut down on her sweets intake in order to present a reliable, mature senpai image and so far it’s worked. She does miss being in the background though.

Ah, this tastes heavenly!

Smiling, she notices her steps are bouncier than usual as she walks down the empty hallway back to her Prefect dorm. Most of her Housemates are in the Great Hall, decorating the place for dinnertime, while her friends are preparing for the celebratory party later the night in Chika’s Head Girl dorm.

The Gryffindor duo had successfully rescued her from her peers, allowing her to take a little break in her dorm before having to socialize for the rest of the night. Indeed, Ruby isn’t fond of being under the spotlight even though her responsibilities nowadays require her to be. Thankfully, her friends are all very understanding of her, knowing that she needs a little breather. Chika and You claim that they’re going to raid the kitchen anyway, while Kanan and Mari must be catching up with Dia and most likely teasing her and Riko’s recent not-so-secret engagement.

As for Yoshiko and Hanamaru, well, hopefully they’re on speaking terms again. Ruby frowns at the thought of her best friends, wondering what the problem it is this time. They do argue from time to time, but those have all been harmless bickering, something Mari reassures her to be a form of flirting.

However, it feels like Yoshiko and Hanamaru have been keeping their distance, either avoiding each other or always sticking to Ruby so that they’re never alone by themselves. Just what had happened? Ruby would rather that they have heated arguments so at least she could play peacemaker, but this is something else entirely.

Sighing, Ruby ponders for the umpteenth time about romantic relationships. She does get envious of that special closeness she’s witnessed in her friends, of how happy her sister is with Riko and so on, but she also finds it stressful. There are so many things to think about, and she is doing fine being the supportive role within their group of nine without being attached to anyone.

What’s more to ask for, if she already has her friends and family?

Suddenly, she couldn’t move her legs anymore and, with her feet stuck to the ground, the momentum makes her bend over awkwardly. Flailing her arms for balance, the lollipop falls to the ground and is kicked away by a dragon skin boot.

Ruby peers up to find Leah glaring at her.

“You didn’t even sense me coming.”

Though slightly irked by the loss of her snack, Ruby is more unsettled by how angry her fellow champion looks. “W-Why have you used partial petrificus on me?”

“To test you - just when I thought you to be a worthy opponent! But look at you, your guard is pathetic,” Leah snarls as she paces around Ruby. Since there is no wand in sight, it must have been a wandless, non-verbal petrificus, implying the witch’s skill and power. “Beside, what was with all that earlier?”

“What do you mean?”

“That circus out there! All that cheering, even that dumb Manticore, being all buddy-buddy with one of your Professors! I knew it, there must’ve been a deal going on.”

Ruby says calmly. “I did not cheat, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

Leah then aggressively enters her personal space, their faces now barely an inch apart. “The TriWizard Tournament is not a game.”

Even though the flight alarm is going off in her head, Ruby is able to keep her voice steady. “I know.”

“Then why do I feel like you’re holding back?”

“I’m not.”

Leah growls in frustration, this time taking out her wand and points it threateningly under Ruby’s chin. “My instincts have never proven me wrong, Kurosawa.”

Ruby winces at the derisive way the Durmstrang champion utters her surname but she maintains eye contact. The silent stalemate continues for a while, neither relenting. Ruby notices for the first time that Leah is actually shorter than her, despite the latter having such an intimidating aura that made her presence so much larger.

Leah suddenly whirls around to deflect a Jinx and easily parries another Hex. Without thinking, Ruby breaks free of the Body-Bind Curse and grips Leah’s wrist before the latter fires off an offensive spell.

“I’m okay, Hanamaru-chan, Yoshiko-chan, please put away your wands.”

Hanamaru looks wary while Yoshiko’s expression is dark, but both lower their wands as they briskly approach them.

“What did you think you were doing, to my friend?” Yoshiko’s husky and menacing tone jostles an unpleasant memory in the back of Ruby’s mind but she forces it away.

Leah ignores the newcomers and continues to glare at Ruby. “So, you can move. You dispelled my Curse non-verbally as well.”

Ruby neither admits nor refutes that statement. After that night at the Estate, they’ve all worked so hard on wandlessly countering Body-Binding Curses. She hasn’t encountered any situation she had to utilize this skill until now.

“Oi, I’m talking to you.” Yoshiko stomps forward and uses her superior height to glare down at Leah. A familiar Ashwinder slithers out from her sleeve and drapes around her neck like a scarf. Leah looks disgusted at the hissing snake and raises her wand the same time Yoshiko raises hers.

“Expelliarmus.”

Hanamaru now holds both of their wands, her expression shadowed by her glasses. “No fighting in the hallway, right, Ruby-chan?”

Ruby swallows hard. Her best friend is rarely upset but it is obvious that this is one such time. “R-Right. Guest or not, y-you’d have to follow the rules here, Kazuno-san. Yoshiko-chan, really, I’m okay.”

Yoshiko huffs and folds her arms, while Leah nods curtly, seemingly taken aback by the turn of events. If Ruby isn’t mistaken, she even looks somewhat impressed as Hanamaru returns her wand back to her.

“You got lucky, Kurosawa.” Leah yanks her hand out of Ruby’s grip, reminding the latter that she’s been holding it this whole time. “Heed my words - I will be the victor in the end.”

Ruby exhales tiredly, watching her fellow champion storming down the hallway with the fur cloak billowing behind her. Durmstrang seems like a stressful environment to study in, or is there more to Leah’s drive in winning the Cup?

“Are you okay, Ruby-chan?”

“Yeah, just surprised and exhausted,” she smiles weakly at Hanamaru, noting the deliberate space between her and Yoshiko. Her two friends aren’t looking at each other and the tension is thick. She also notices that Lucifer is nestled in Hanamaru’s hood instead of Yoshiko’s like usual. Seraph the Ashwinder flicks its tongue at Ruby’s questioning gaze and nods imperceptibly before hiding under its master’s sleeve once more.

Ruby sighs again. This is only the First Task, and there appears to be more to come, Tournament or otherwise.

#LLSHP AU #athyra writes #Triwizard tournament gaiden #kurosawa ruby #kazuno leah #diariko kanamari youchika yoshimaru #by the end of this blip I feel like I should name this series #The Melancholy of Ruby Kurosawa #XD!!!#poor woobie has so much on her plate lol #Leah just being leah #but yeah timeskip #it's a blip so the beginning and end def seem more abrupt #than a regular chapter would be #if I try to write the sequel like the main story #then it would never get finished XD!#yes PDP will make cameos as Beauxbaton #Shizuku cuz she's always been one of my fav N girls

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lovehaswonangelnumbers · 6 years ago

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New Post has been published on https://lovehaswonangelnumbers.org/karmic-tools-weekly-forecast-february-3-9-2019/

Karmic Tools Weekly Forecast ~ February 3 – 9, 2019

a message from Kelly M. Beard

The Karmic Tools Weekly Forecast covers the current planetary transits which affect people in different ways and to various degrees of intensity. Take notice when it is a Personal planet (Sun / Moon / Mercury / Venus / Mars) interacting with a Social (Jupiter/Saturn) or Collective planet (Uranus / Neptune/Pluto). And pay extremely close attention when it is a Social planet interacting with a Collective planet because that means something *big* is brewing that will move large groups of people along their evolutionary paths. Tuning in to the energy and rhythm of the planets can serve as a useful *guide* as you move along your Individual Path. It also helps to understand your place within the context of the larger Social & Collective Story. Below, you will find out how these energies tend to manifest, as well as guidance and direction.

*NOTE* There are some days when there are NO CONTACTS (besides the Moon), please note that there are no missing entries, we just list the actual Activations of each week + the day they happen.

Weekly Forecast: February 3 – 9, 2019

2/7 ~ Mercury (your voice) ~sextile~ Jupiter (expansion):

Where the above (Sun sextile Jupiter) is more about YOU, this activation is more about your consciousness, ideas, thoughts & concepts (Mercury), which Jupiter expands in some way, helping you to ‘think bigger’, edit your personal Story and step up your game in some way. This is also a great energy to work with if you are in school, learning something new, expanding your knowledge base or gather new tools & information to support your goals. Your dreams are tapping you on the shoulder, demanding some attention. Mundane issues are not your concern right now, you want to figure out how to create the life you’ve been imagining. This energy also provokes within you the awareness & understanding that being generous naturally attracts generosity to you. The big picture and overall patterns which have led you to this point are being brought into the light. Feeling clear, sharp, alert and optimistic, you begin to realize that anything you can imagine (or remember), you can achieve.

2/7 ~ Sun (core Self) ~sextile~ Jupiter (optimism):

This energy is sometimes considered “lucky” but the success you achieve under this influence, is more likely due to a positive outlook and clear vision of who you are and what you want. Your life is expanding, your self-understanding is deepening and it will be easier to be around other people of higher consciousness, improving things and creating opportunities that benefit a larger number of people. There is a healthy dose of optimism around some grand plan, and things are moving, but make sure to do the foundation work to support this larger vision as it manifests in reality. If you are a teacher/guide/leader of any sort, this energy supports your group efforts, so giving workshops, seminars or new classes is totally supported and will benefit you, while serving others.

2/7 ~ Mercury (expression) ~sextile~ Mars (passion):

This is a healthy selfish energy (aka self-preservation). Do not hold back this week. If you have a big dream or serious goal you have been working toward, then this is the time that may attract the assistance you need from the Universe. This is definitely a “work” energy, however, it brings with it the caveat that it is best if you work alone on something important to you. No one else is (or ever will be) as dedicated to your goal as YOU will be, nor should you expect them to be. You are now connected to the extra energy it takes to push your goals to the next level, bringing you a sense of accomplishment while outlining the next tasks to be done. Opportunities present themselves all the time, all you have to do is be ready!! If you are given the opportunity to make a presentation, go for it! Your clarity, energy & enthusiasm will be unmatched and that’s what people respond to. Don’t choose this time to be “shy” or doubt that you’re ready – you are definitely ready … otherwise you wouldn’t be here!! One of my favorite sayings is: “At the moment of commitment, the Universe conspires to assist you!” It’s time to decide if you are committed and how truly committed you are, to your own success.

2/9 ~ Mercury (acumen) ~sextile~ Uranus (the Awakener):

This energy says, it’s time to go with the flow – “new and different” being the flow. It wants to shake it up a bit – in a good way. However, if you feel like new and different is more like chaos and disruption, then you need to reflect and see if you aren’t being too rigid. Unwillingness to go with the (new) flow will make this energy harder to handle. This is also a good time to try to resolve any old issues or challenges – they are not going away without resolution and conscious release. Perhaps you’ve been trying the same thing over and over and it’s time to try something NEW – now is the time new ideas can/will come to you. Pay attention! Try to be open and receptive to unusual things, events or ideas and allow room for spontaneity. You may think you are doing one thing and look up and being doing something completely different – be open to exploring the new path!

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myfriendpokey · 7 years ago

Text

flat pak

i went to now play this last weekend and had a good time! there was a flatgames room, and a panel, and the latter made me think about some nightmarish circumstance where someone was questioning me about what the point of these things was. the three posts below are all pseudo-answers i sketched out.

1. i like how sexless videogames are, and how bad at representing humanity in general, i like that even hyperviolent games have this wistfulness about them, as if the only way they can grasp the human body is as it comes apart - in some provisional, stateless shape contained in but seperate from the game systems, a ghost, like those mysteriously elaborate and collisionless death animations the enemies in old shooters got before dissolving into goo. or as if they hoped the exuberance of their own approach was enough to break the carapace of the format and let something, anything, seep in from the outside....

the little guys in videogames are a gentler convention, but they're always on the verge of the same dissolution - the sketchiest of outlines, of features, a ball, a shape, with eyes and feet. like drawing yourself with your eyes closed - the crudest and most temporary kind of projection or self-fashioning. staring nervously and chomping as it waddles through the maze, eating things, breaking apart instantly when it bumps into someone, and given an equally temporary name such as walky or go-go. i love this dorkiness, this daydream of the body as a soap-bubble, so alienated that the slightest recognition feels like intimacy.

2. flatgames are 'flat' in the sense of projecting a multi-level videogame hierarchy into a single plane; the archetypical flatgame gesture is being able to walk across the textboxes. rather than systems they represent collections - collections of effects treated as independent of the wider process they'd ordinarily portray, which can then be grouped and moved around seperate from that process. so it's a personal, subjective format in the sense that the new groupings sort of mirror the groupings produced when various external effects are flattened into single moments of subjective experience, of memory. but it's also a personal format just because it's easy to use - because in many circumstances it's easier to just drag and drop text around rather than create a universal system that handles when and how it'll be displayed, as in all those unity horror games that have gui elements just sort of hanging around in space for you to bump into. and i think this is something that kind of grinds interestingly against the idea of videogames as inherently systematic, inherently good at portraying systems - like, in what way are they systematic when it's become easier NOT to be systematic? at what point do those "systematic" features become a mannerism, while the very easiness of bad game design means it starts to cleave more rigorously to the contours of actual material life and practice, to the way we really use computers rather than the ways we'd like to use them?

this is not to say systems don't exist. but their relationship with even the most system-y videogames is weird - to what extent are these games exploring a system rather than expressing a sense of systematicity, an aesthetics of system not dissimilar to those of puzzles, criticism, and the mystery novel? on one hand we know that a lot of systemic elements are hand-tweaked by developers in order to feel less jarring to our impression of the whole (dice rolls being the most common) - on the other we know from previous twitter threads about exactly these kinds of "cheats" that they can outrage players who learn they exist. which suggests it's not any specific quality or experience associated with a game system but the idea of systematicity itself that's being sold -- as indeed with the famous "100 hours of gameplay" tag, which does not express a type of content so much as a promise that this content has been regulated and formatted in ways which allow it to be sold in this very matter-of-fact way. the idea of systematicity as a deliberately conveyed aesthetic impression feels worth investigating, particularly given ten million youtube videos with names like "gun-shot teen DESTROYED with Logic" and "univeral reason under attack: why braingeniousmasculinist should be unbanned from club penguin" - evidently the impression of sanguine impersonality and indifference to the merely "personal" is a highly popular and profitable one online....

in a more material sense, too, we can query this systematicity. a videogame with handdrawn paper graphics is obviously not "de-mystifying" the process of making games, since the physical object had to be digitalised and cleaned up and imported and processed before it could be used. one of the stranger things in videogames is that naivete is a technological affordance - i can use crude handdrawn graphics because the computer has enough memory not to force me to compress it all into 8x8 sprites (unless i really want it to, as with deliberately limited bespoke engines). but at the same time it really is de-mystifying, because it emphasises the extent to which game development takes place at the intersection between multiple different areas of digital technology (not to mention human labour). 3d model textures can be paintings or photographs or heavily treated, processed combinations of the two - the photographs or paintings used can be original or purchased from various weird economies of commercial asset packs - the artistic coordination of those assets can take place over skype or similar with the reference of multiple other digital image files, scavenged from online to give an idea of the total look. i don't mean to suggest that these multiple intersections are so complex that they cease to be "systematic" - but i do think that grasping it as a real system also means coming to terms with the ways in which it can be structurally unsystemisable, like fredric jameson's description of globalization as "untotalizable totality". when the most important features of the discrete operations of a computer are that they take place at a scale and speed no human can replicate, recasting exactly those operation into a human scale can confuse more than it clears up [much like this post].

thinking about videogames more generally as revolving around not an inherent systematicity but rather an image of / desire for the same, around that imagination of systematicity which is bound up with consumer technology as a whole. i feel like at each moment in history this systematicity has some privileged form of social identification associated with it: i've lost count of the pulpy books i've read which had some villainous saint-just analogue, maybe one obsessed with clocks or measuring things, who imposes some cruel and rigid revolutionary "system" on the basically warm and laissez-faire vassals below... system as political imposition. but medieval writers might have connected the same sense of systematicity more immediately with that of the kingdom of god, with the underlying structure which makes those warm laissez-faire moments possible to begin with. sometimes system appears in media as bureaucracy and ritual, sometimes it's as a challenge to bureaucracy and ritual, galileo's "and yet it moves" or those movies where someone comes up with a brilliant new way to win sports matches or sell sub-prime mortgages against all the prevailing wisdom. on the basis of this extremely rough idea, what could we imagine being the privileged form that systematicity appears in the everyday today? not capitalism or high finance, which while systematic can also be too broad or naturalised to appear so in this immediate way... not politics, not the internet. but maybe ON the internet, and for me "system" appears most visibly online in the question of personal information and how it's tracked. all those notifications of websites using cookies clicked through, terms and amendments to terms scrolled past, online shopping histories suddenly reoccuring by ads for the same products you looked at appearing in the background of another site - all these are re-impositions, re-appearances of systemicity through the vague fugue of internet experience. and which pop up in the more public sphere as an ominous black site, with the full scope or implications sealed away behind byzantine layers of corporate procedure and nondisclosure. the sense of system here is one of intransigence, blockage - it's divorced from the idea that knowing the system would give one the power to change it, because here the system is exactly what makes that knowledge impossible in the first place. maybe that sense of the failure of systemic knowledge is connected to the world depicted in flatgames, in which that knowledge no longer exists - niall moody's "the craigallen fire" contains historical information and real places, but the words hang eerily across the digital picture as if unsure how to relate to it, as if coming from a long way away. but the movement away from representational systematicity is a move towards material systemicness, in the clarity and concreteness with which flatgames approach their own practice, so maybe we should consider this withdrawal as strategic - as an effort to build new systems, rather than being pulled into the daydream of the old.

3. part of the pleasure, for me, in making flatgames, was the sense of feeling able to postpone indefinitely some kind of mechanical reckoning - the feeling of being able to use pacing and visual structure to ward off the dread that any minute now i'd have to settle down and make a real game. in a weird way it connects to what i enjoy about very fussy, technical games - grinding in an rpg means deferring the point at which you actually have to begin playing the rpg, both in the sense of being challenged and in the sense of actually having to sit down and learn all the systems, just as savescumming your way through megaman 3 is to giddily skate around the dread prospect of actually playing megaman 3. there is no point where you have to work out what happens if you die or walk off the map, there is no point where you have to say to the player "okay, you have to focus now". the horror of paying attention and the joy of not having to! a moment of those moralist rituals held in temporary suspense, as if time itself has frozen and you're free to walk among it, underneath paused mechanisms that would ordinarily be crushing you... and the awareness of that suspense somehow makes your own delicacy greater, as if one of the machines you wandered through was your own life, and you could hover precariously inside it... a soap bubble, the merest bug-eyed phantom, newly christened something like walky or go-go....

[image credits - street fighter iii: second impact - pippols - space fantasy zone - marchen veil - bandits 9)

#flatgames #writing #vg.#pippols

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welldevelopedbuzrush-blog · 5 years ago

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Social Media Video Marketing

Will it be viral to date? Is this popular but still?

Even while traveling viral should not be the objective within your video marketing plan (in no way ever previously! ), the idea of itself has did actually took off of this present year, increased even…

Marketing experts, we have been hearing numerous stats such as these: 5 billion dollars video are looked at online every single day, 1200% alot more explains to you are earned by interpersonal videos than sms and images paired, video clips upon a attaining webpages improve sales by 80Percent and 80Per cent of members remember a youtube video advert they also have come across on the web up until recently 30 days.

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Use Warby Parker’s ‘How Drinking glasses are Made’ videos, a terrific instance of storytelling it focuses on the origins on the trademark, their culture, ethos and people to showcase their eye wear.

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A single fifth in the visitors will click away originating from a footage within 10 seconds or considerably less. Little and to the level - that’s how much the online video specialists are recommending. Our guidance? Get right to the grit of your story and cope with goals coming from the beginning (in the to begin with five to ten mere seconds).

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Social Media Manager at Cisco "Often in the corporate world, people get nervous about comedy and say it doesn’t belong here, according to Tim Washer. If you can make it work, but if it might help you get a point across economically and efficiently, why wouldn’t you try it and see? ”

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globalcommunitybuzrush-blog · 5 years ago

Text

Social Media Video Marketing

Is it viral and yet? Would it be viral at this point?

Though proceeding viral will not be the goal with your marketing with video promotion (by no means ever! ), the word as well has did actually took out this present year, erupted even…

Marketing experts, we’ve been seeing and hearing loads of statistics like these: 5 billion dollars online videos are looked at on YouTube everyday, 1200Per cent extra reveals are made by cultural video recordings than words and pictures joined, videos on your getting articles rise sales by 80Percent and 80% of end users recall a relevant video ad they already have viewed on the net some time ago period.

If that’s the case then you best get to grips with the best practices for ensuring your Social Media Video Marketing campaigns smash your objectives and propel your social media forward, Eek…Well. Below we disclose a lot of our favourite guidelines to help you establish compelling, inspiring and actionable web-based video clips.

1. Facility Your Video All around the Experience, Not The Profit

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Benefit from the emotive capability of footage by popular with your consumers’ hidden and needs desires. Fearful you will reduce brings with this? You can always location a strategic and relevant contact to motions together with a tracked Web link following your footage (just make sure it fits into your present account).

Carry Warby Parker’s ‘How Wine glasses are Made’ online video, an awesome type of storytelling it focuses primarily on the roots belonging to the brand name, their culture, ethos and people to emphasize their eyewear.

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Check out sparking your audience’s desire by asking them questions and utilizing teasers to hook their notice instantaneously.

Your footage ought to quickly share its answer and value that “why do i need to see it? ” question that can be on your own audience’s psyche. Because it will inspire them to act or because it will teach them something new, should they watch it because it will make them laugh?

3. Use Humour inside of your Video. Quit Remaining So Bland!

According to Tim Washer, Social Media Manager at Cisco "Often in the corporate world, people get nervous about comedy and say it doesn’t belong here. If you can make it work, but if it might help you get a point across economically and efficiently, why wouldn’t you try it and see? ”

So what do your audience want instead? They want to laugh, they would like to definitely feel enlightened, they would like to be dragged out of their dreary 9 to 5's and end up forgetting concerning their realities.

Done very well, a brand name can acquire the perks from utilizing humour with their videos written content. Consider Snickers for example.

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Question & Answer Website: https: //community.buzrush.com/

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thebuzrushcommunitylove · 5 years ago

Text

Social Media Video Marketing

Would it be popular yet still? Might it be popular nonetheless?

When traveling popular will not be the goal of your online video marketing plan (by no means ever previously! ), the idea itself has seemed to took out of this holiday season, erupted even…

On-line marketers, we have been seeing and hearing lots of statistics like these: 5 billion dollars movies are watched online every single day, 1200Percent considerably more provides are made by interpersonal video lessons than wording and images consolidated, video lessons on the obtaining websites increase conversions by 80Percent and 80Per cent of owners remember a youtube video advertising they have observed on the internet in earlier times period.

If that’s the case then you best get to grips with the best practices for ensuring your Social Media Video Marketing campaigns smash your objectives and propel your social media forward, Eek…Well. Below we uncover some of our beloved guidelines to help you develop inspiring, compelling and actionable on the net video clips.

1. Hub Your Online video media To the Adventure, Not The Transaction

You will find a heap of gross sales mess using the net which is actually exasperating and repelling your website visitors. Never now let your company be that person - alternatively, your online video really needs to be centred in the narrative and simply not the sale. Think of: identical regulations that request articles marketing get video marketing - concentrate on the importance you are giving for the buyers.

Maximize the emotive power of online video media by popular with your consumers’ needs and hidden needs. Worried you will forfeit sales leads that way? You could always site a relevant and strategic label to steps next to a monitored URL at the conclusion of your video footage (just make sure it suits your existing history).

Undertake Warby Parker’s ‘How Glasses are Made’ video clip, an awesome illustration showing storytelling it focuses on the roots for the brand, their people, ethos and culture to flaunt their eyeglasses.

2. Make any Video footage Element the right 10 Moments Possibly

One particular fifth with your viewers will click away from the online video among 10 seconds or less. Shorter and to the stage - that’s exactly what the video footage authorities are advocating. Our help and advice? Get ability to the grit of your tale and take care of anticipations from your outset (throughout the first five to ten a few seconds).

Experiment with sparking your audience’s attention by asking them questions and ultizing teasers to hook their special attention instantaneously.

Your training video need to immediately communicate its value and answer that “why must i look at it? ” question that can be with your audience’s mind. Because it will inspire them to act or because it will teach them something new, should they watch it because it will make them laugh?

3. Use Humour into your Movie. Give up Staying So Bland!

So, what do your audience want instead? They want to have fun, they will look and feel enlightened, they would like to be drawn out of their uninspiring 9 to 5's and then forget regarding their realities.

Completed well, a brand name can collect the success while using humour throughout their online video media content. Bring Snickers for instance.

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ncodetechnologiesinc · 6 years ago

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Why to Hire Dedicated WordPress Developer to Build My Website

Things You Need To Know Before Hiring a WordPress Developer To Build Your Next Website

The Audience

So you’ve made the all-important decision of getting yourself a website. You can be one of the following people:

An entrepreneur/business owner looking to set up a website for your new startup/business to generate some leads and gain overall visibility by effective SEO marketing and more

An established businessman who is now venturing into the online market having an established offline customer base, looking to explore new avenues for generating revenue

A blogger/vlogger place (yes, since that’s what we all think WordPress is for!), who are looking to put all their content in one

A freelancer, looking to set up their Portfolio on the web and sign new clients by showcasing their work through elegant designs and plugging in their social media handles.

If you fall into one of these categories, then this blog is for you. It’s a Must Read. And for all those who don’t fall into one of these, and yet want to know a few nifty things about WordPress, read on.

Common Misconceptions about WordPress

Firstly, to begin with, there’s a lot of misconceptions about WordPress and its typical use case.

WordPress is for Blogging

Most people believe that WordPress is essentially for people who intend to set up a blog. Don’t get me wrong, it is “Pro-Blogging”. However, that’s not the only thing it is good at or its intended use. It’s the world’s leading CMS (Content Management Systems) out there.

More than anything, WordPress is a website builder – A platform where you get all the tools in your kitty to build a powerful, responsive website. WordPress caters to websites from a wide variety of sectors from amateur gaming, entertainment, news to professional business, e-commerce and lead generating websites.

WordPress Is Rigid – Customizability is Limited

This is another misconception that revolves around WordPress since its inception in May 2003. This myth stems mainly from the fact that ease of use with which you can design a website in WordPress – with the use of Templates and Themes and the Drag and Drop Framework that WP provides. This has led people to believe that all of this comes out of the box and cannot be tinkered with. In truth, WP is as customizable on the frontend as it is on the backend. Plus the plethora of templates available can only be a good thing – which means you can select a template which is closest to what you’re looking for, requiring the least amount of changes to the frontend.

Look and Feel is Outdated

WordPress has a huge community which is constantly upgrading and developing the Tools, Templates and Themes that go into making a WP website. However, many feel that WP either has an outdated look, not having kept up with the times of Bootstrap and such or that most WP websites all look similar.

A key thing to understand here is that WP has both, Free as well as Premium stuff that could be used. The premium themes are very well designed and allow customizations as well in terms of layout, icons, fonts, colors, animations and more. All of this combined lets you decide the look and feel of the website.

WordPress does not require knowledge of HTML/CSS

Many believe that WP is for beginners with no knowledge of HTML/CSS. While it is easy to build a website on WP with its drag-and-drop functionalities, this is not entirely true.

This is the diversity that WP offers. While a beginner can use out of the box functionality for WP and build a website without little or no coding, an experienced developer can make the most of all the customizability options we spoke about; may it be themes, plugins, custom code. There’s no limit.

What is WordPress and Where it currently stands?

Now that you know what WordPress is not limited to. Let’s actually learn more about WordPress and how you can hire yourself a Professional WordPress Developer.

WordPress is the leading open-source content management system based on PHP and MySQL. It was originally released on May 27, 2003, by its founders Matt Mullenweg and Mike Little. Since then WP has come a long way into establishing itself as the best Content Management Platform being the market leader and dominating having a market share which is more than that of Joomla and Drupal combined.

WordPress’ presence in the global marketplace

According to a recent market research, turns out that:

WordPress powers about 32% of the Entire Internet. That’s not it.

Out of the top 100 websites in the world based on traffic and other such criteria, WordPress powers 14.7% of these top 100 websites.

Some Fortune 500 companies and famous blogs like Mashable, The New York Times and TechCrunch are all based on WordPress.

Some other popular names amongst this list are Best Buy, CBS Radio, the NFL, TED, CNN and NBC.

Why WordPress?

WordPress has been providing services as a website builder for a long time now, especially considering how fast tech has been evolving around the frontend and backend tech available for building fast, full-fledged, responsive websites. Having been around has allowed WP to have a strong community built around it which provides constant support, upgrades, templates and themes which are tasteful and appealing to developers.

Straight off the bat, there are a few reasons for opting WordPress:

Learning Curve and Ease Of Use

WP has a lesser learning curve than most technologies, may it be Django-Python, Joomla, Drupal, Vue.js, React, Ionic or other such frameworks. Credit goes for the user-friendly UI that WordPress provides with its drag-and-drop framework. It allows users to have a very basic or almost no knowledge of HTML/CSS and start building websites of their own. The Dashboard is easy to understand and use. Since it’s free, there’s a lot of helpful content such as videos, blogs, etc., for people to learn from and grow.

Out-of-the-box functionalities

WordPress is very understanding of its users; Be it a novice or an expert WordPress developer, there’s room for both to play around with. WP takes care of the web hosting in the very beginning by providing access to free servers as well as allows creating and hosting on external servers for experienced developers.

Beautifully designed, Purposeful and Functional Templates

Templates and themes play a major role in picking WP too. More often than not, people find an 80-90% match in a template for the kind of website they are looking to get built. Plugins and add-on functionalities deserve a mention too.

Secure

WP is one of the most secure CMS out there. WP is open-source and is constantly tested for bugs, loopholes and the community comes up with workarounds, fixes and patches for the same. WP is completely customizable and the security can be increased by taking the necessary steps.

SEO Management

WP also provides additional out of the box support for SEO management, allowing you to insert metadata, permalinks and title tags to gain visibility and ranking on Google.

Responsiveness

Today, people surf the internet more on their phones and tablets and lesser on desktops and laptops. WP has you covered here. The templates are designed in a flexible manner which takes care of different device widths and customizes frontend content accordingly.

Why do you need to Hire a Professional WordPress Developer

We’re all for getting our hands dirty – meaning here, that one can opt to build a WordPress website of their own. But there are a few downsides to this, coupled with a few upsides to why you should rather hire a professional developer.

As we’ve spoken earlier, if you’re looking to generate traffic, gain visibility, appeal to customers with your eye for design and detail, then there are a few things that need to be done to ensure that you can make the most out of your WP website.

Scalability

You need to future-proof your website by making it scalable. This means managing how you host your website, your server choice and the architecture you set up on the server. It’s why you need to hire an experienced WordPress developer.

SEO

Simply having a website compared to actually generating traffic are two very different things. Your website may have pretty solid content, but it still needs a lot more than just that to Rank No. 1 on Google’s Search Engine. For this, you need to meticulously insert Keywords, Meta Tags and more.

Customizations

If you’re using a theme but are planning to have major customizations to it, in terms of fonts, styling, layout and design to represent your brand image then it makes sense to let a professional WordPress developer do it.

Security

WP comes with a few nifty out-of-the-box security features. However, to make it more secure from cyber attacks certain measures need to be taken such as encrypting data while sending it via forms.

API Integrations

A complex website, having multiple data points can communicate through configurable API calls to send and receive data from third-parties. Such a high level of programming is best left to hired professionals.

Grasp of Programming Languages

Modern-day WP developers are technically well versed with the changing programming and design trends. They possess the technical acumen and expertise to come up with workarounds that may occur while developing or website.

Out-of-the-box

Web developers are coders, but designers. They understand your changing requirements, come up with creative solutions to present your brand, keeping in mind the feasibility and creating an amalgam of design and functionality.

Specialized features

Your website may require certain specialized features such as a Custom Photo Uploader, or a live Instagram/twitter feed. Hiring expert WordPress web developers allow you to make such demands that see fruition.

Effectiveness

Rather than investing your precious time in learning and building a website of your own, it’s more efficient and effective if you use your business acumen and management skills in shaping the website and assuring it fits the brand image you want to build.

Support

As your website is deployed and delivered to you, it doesn’t end there. Hiring a WordPress developer in India or abroad will enable you to enter a contract for routine maintenance, bug fixes and additional features/functionalities which you may need as your business landscape changes.

Things You Need To Be Aware Of Before Hiring

While hiring a WordPress Programmer/Web Developer, there are a few things you need to be wary of:

Ask for Past Work/References

It’s good to know what you’re getting into. Best practices are to refer to previous works to get an idea of their ability.

Don’t Think Cheap

Avoid falling for cheap freelancers and low-cost developers. Check their ratings/reviews and prefer experienced WordPress developers.

Communication

Establish clear milestones and deliverables along with payment terms. This will enable effective communication and keep you in the loop at all times.

Trial and Error

Start small. Let the developer complete a small business module that could be used on the website and award based on that.

#wordpress

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minnievirizarry · 8 years ago

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How Most Brands Fail With Content Curation

You’re expected to feed your social followers buzz-worthy content on a consistent basis but don’t want to parrot your own stuff over and over.

The struggle is real.

Content curation is easy to screw up if you’re stuck in the habit of haphazardly posting social media content without some sort of time-sensitive strategy. On the flip side, you can’t put every piece of your social feed on autopilot unless you want your followers to think you’re a robot.

Here’s the deal: your social presence doesn’t have to be the same “look at me” posts over and over. It doesn’t have to look like a jumbled mess, either. Unfortunately, so many brands fail to find the balance between effective automation and personalization. This results in a less-than-stellar social presence and very little love in terms of followers, clicks or engagement.

So, what exactly are brands doing wrong that’s sinking their social strategies? Keep the following in mind as an exercise in how not to handle content curation.

They Don’t Stick to a Schedule

Social scheduling is a no-brainer for modern brands, especially given what we know about the best times to post on social media. After all, marketers are expected to be in a million places at once in terms of social posting, right?

However, attempting to post fresh content at the “optimal” times day after day without a scheduling solution will inevitably leave you reeling. If you’re consistently stressing out about being “on time,” you’ll never actually get down to business.

That’s exactly why social media scheduling is the bread and butter of today’s brands both big and small. Scheduling removes the time-sensitive stress from your content curation efforts.

Meanwhile, you can also hold yourself accountable for your social presence instead of wondering “Did I remember to post X, Y and Z this week?”

Scheduled posts establish the foundation of an effective social feed. It’s not about sticking to a rigid timetable, but rather covering all of your bases.

Think about it. By having your most important content, lead magnets and brand hashtags taken care of in advance, throwing in that random retweet or non-promo post is no big deal. In short, scheduling allows you to stay one step ahead when it comes to content curation.

They Don’t Post Fresh Content

OK, so posting fresh content is a no-brainer, right?

Sure, seems like it. Then again, We can’t tell you how many times we’ve clicked on a “breaking news” post or listicle that ends up being 5+ years old.

Yawn.

Don’t let your social feed get stuck in 2012. Instead, you should play an active role in content curation by seeking out new pieces relevant to your readership. Doing so signals you as someone who’s on top of their industry versus someone who has to scramble for new content.

That’s why content curation platforms such as Feedly are so valuable to modern marketers. Rather than having to slog through an endless sea of tweets or blog posts, Feedly provides a context flux of relevant content that your followers will eat up.

Pro Tip:Feedly is already integrated into Sprout’s scheduling platform, making this process even easier.

Despite popular belief, social media doesn’t have to be massive time-sink. Scheduling tools and content curation capabilities represent a double-whammy for a social presence that cuts down on wasted time and needless stress. Most importantly, your followers never grow bored when you have a slew of fresh sources to choose from.

They Don’t Follow the Right People

Believe it or not, who you follow is an incredibly important piece of your content curation strategy.

How so?

They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, right? When you follow purely self-promotional brands, you’re not learning much in terms of what your followers might want.

But when you follow flesh-and-blood influencers in your space, you can better understand what makes your audience tick. Likewise, big names in your industry are prime candidates for tagging and Retweets, which can encourage more eyes on your posts.

For example, some go-to social feeds for shareable content include people like Rand Fishkin of Moz, Brian Clark of Copyblogger and Jason Fried of Basecamp. These rockstars represent beacons of good content that’s relevant to content curation and content readers in our industry.

And when we say “good content,” we’re talking about posts that are actionable, educational and entertaining.

If you’re familiar with the tone and content of these guys, you can quickly scan and share their latest pieces with peace of mind.

Make it a point to build a list of designated influencers and brands where you can pull content. Over time, you’ll determine the types of pieces your audience is hungry for and refine your content curation strategy from there.

Their Feeds Don’t Have Any Flavor

Another tweet, another link. Another tweet, another link. Hey look, it’s another tweet. And another link.

*Unfollow*

Don’t make the mistake of souring your feed because you post little more than just links. You may craft the best pieces of content in the world, but as the old saying goes: It’s all in the presentation.

Seriously. What incentive does someone have to follow a never-ending link dump?

It’s shocking how many brands lack any sort of flavor when it comes to their social feeds. There’s no excuse for not switching up your social content when so many options exist. Given that social posts with images and videos receive more engagement, there’s reason not to go beyond strictly link-based posts.

Writing Revolt’s Jorden Roper represents an awesome example of content curation done right. At a glance, her social content includes a wide variety of posts including traditional links, videos, motivational quotes, shoutout posts and hashtag-heavy posts.

And that’s just for starters. The key takeaway here is that a well-curated feed has a sense of variety. Posting link after link does not feel human to your followers, which ultimately makes your feed seem underwhelming.

They Only Talk About Themselves

It’s considered bad manners to hog the conversation and solely talk about yourself, isn’t it? The exact same principle applies to content curation.

According to the Sprout Social Q3 2016 Index, 60% of followers are annoyed by over-promotional content. Just because you have a product or service to sell via social doesn’t mean you should shove it down your followers’ throats.

Purely promotional feeds don’t attract followers, either. Why would they? Meanwhile, solely singing your own praises could potentially poison your brand by annoying or irritating your audience.

The point of social media isn’t to be an island, but rather spark a conversation. While you obviously shouldn’t promote your competitors, there’s no harm in showing some love to your peers or other players in your industry.

Although there are plenty of recommended ratios out there, the 80/20 rule is the go-to principle for many social marketers today. This rule means only 20% of your content should be promotional, while the remaining 80% is in the creative realm.

There’s no denying that finding the balance between education, entertainment and promotion can be difficult. Just remember that the purpose of content curation is to benefit both you and your followers. If you solely try to sell yourself via social, your audience will see right through you.

They Don’t Know How to Recycle

Finally, let’s talk about the elephant in the room for many new marketers regarding content curation. What if you don’t have much of your own content to work with in the first place?

No problem.

Recycling and repurposing your social posts is almost an art form and in and of itself. By creatively re-captioning and repurposing your existing content, you can get more mileage out of your content curation efforts.

For example, here’s the default caption for one of the latest pieces of content for Sprout:

Looks good, right? But does that mean it can never be posted again? Of course not. Here’s the exact same piece with a reworked caption integrated some fresh hashtags:

Wanting to show the piece even more love? You can switch up the caption and featured image for its next share:

And again with a cheeky meme!

The idea isn’t to create the illusion that each of these posts represents a new piece of content. The point is that through recycling your posts with unique captions, you create more opportunities to get your content in front of fresh faces.

Considering that Twitter in particular moves so quickly, it’s inevitable that not everyone on your list will see your pieces the first time around. Reworking your captions to recycle your posts also keeps your followers from growing bored with your feed.

The lesson here? Don’t simply stick to the same default captions every time. This small but subtle touch will make your social feeds seem less stale even if you’re working with a limited amount of your own content.

What Do You Consider to Be the Deadly Sins of Content Curation

Effective content curation isn’t about blasting posts at random and hoping that something sticks. By knowing what not to do in terms of social content, you can devise a strategy that combines a variety of smart scheduled and organic content accordingly.

On that note, what are you absolutely sick of seeing when it comes to content curation? Anything stick out as spam to you when it comes to scheduling? We’d love to pick your brain in the comments below.

This post How Most Brands Fail With Content Curation originally appeared on Sprout Social.

from SM Tips By Minnie https://sproutsocial.com/insights/content-curation-guide/

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