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roniscloud · 3 years ago

Text

lhs - runnin’

lee heeseung [a. + f. 4700 words] runnin’

to you

you came up on some new

i know i shouldn’t feel blue

‘cause i was runnin’ out of time for you

synopsis: you met heeseung in your freshman year of college and immediately hit it off. you’ve made it to your third year and when everyone including yourselves thought that you were each other’s endgame, the devastation when you two split was immeasurable. you both know there’s still love between you. this break allows you both to realize new things. can you two find your ways back to each other? will this be the final goodbye?

genre + tropes: angst. fluff. comedy. college!au. establishedrelationship!au. exes!au.

warnings: fem reader. swearing. arguing. nosy friends. cold heeseung and cold reader. drifting relationship. interventions. slight suggestive themes but it’s only mentioned like once. they both pine over each other. mentions of alcohol and binge drinking. maybe not a happy ending. if you choose to see it that way. whoops. appearances of the rest of enha plus txt yeonjun and soobin.

i. the break

“so this is how it’s gonna end? i thought we were doing fine.”

heeseung erupts into an even angrier fit, “are you kidding me? we are not fucking fine. in what world is this fine? tell me!”

you scoff from where you stand cross-armed on the other side of the bedroom. “well, can you really blame me? it’s hard to see if there’s something wrong if we never see each other.”

“exactly my point! we don’t see each other.”

the two of you have been at each other’s throats since heeseung showed up at your apartment. you have no idea how long ago that was or when the argument started. all you remember is coming up to him when he arrived, wanting to actually spend some time with him. instead he shrugged you off and ignored you, blaming the fatigue. the rest has been a blur. one of you made an offhand comment and now here you are: frustrated and in another fight.

a quick recap: you two met at a mutual friend’s party. you thought that each other was attractive and he ended up asking you out. from there you kept going out, fell in love, dated, and everyone thought you were perfect together. three years later and it’s getting tiring. life has been draining trying to balance it all.

“and who’s fault is that?”

annoyed, he snaps back, “oh please, you can not put the blame solely on me.”

“bullshit. i sure can when i’m the only one making an effort here. i’ve actually been trying to save us. you, on the other hand…” you pause again, rolling your eyes, “well, we both know just how much you care.”

his jaw drops, defensively he spits back, “are you genuinely implying that i don’t care about you? about us? that’s rich.”

you move to sit on the edge of the bed, staring at a single spot on the floor. you can see the shadow of heeseing pacing back and forth. you sit there, not looking at each other. the only sounds to be heard are his footsteps and the heavy sighs from you. you think back to the last several weeks. you recall each of the times you have been able to see each other. there’s no substance, nothing memorable. the only thing that comes to mind is that you always end up not talking at all or arguing.

just like right now.

“be real, heesung. when was the last time we went on a date? when was the last time you stayed the night without it ending up with you just knocking out? when was the last time we actually sat down and had a conversation? be honest because i will. i can’t remember.”

“and yet you thought we were fine?”

“well it’s better to believe a good lie than face the hurtful truth. i’m trying to save this relationship. i’m trying all the fucking time and you don’t do shit.”

he spits back frustrated, “well maybe that’s because there’s nothing to be saved.”

“are you kidding me right now? am i supposed to be scared? you tell me that there’s nothing to be saved and expect me to just give up?”

“sorry but i’m not running from this anymore.”

“you’re not sorry and we both know it.” you push yourself back up to stand, resting your hands on your hips, “you can’t say you’re sorry and expect me to forgive you. that’s not how this works.”

“this isn’t what i wanted to happen. this isn’t how it was supposed to go.”

“then make it work.”

“i- i can’t,” he holds his hands over his face, running one through his hair, “it’s too much.”

“so what? what do you mean?”

he finally stops. he takes a deep breath and lets it all out, “i just can’t see this working anymore, at least not like this.”

ii. week one

you thought this would be more difficult. that this would be the hardest pill to swallow. the first week apart may actually be the easiest. nothing has really changed. that’s probably because you haven’t told anyone that you two are no longer together. perhaps the time that you didn’t spend with each other before the break up had trained you for this.

life goes on, with or without heeseung. that’s what you keep telling yourself. you choose to get caught up with your life. you have other priorities. it’s not a crime to focus on yourself for the first time in three years.

heeseung feels the same. he doesn’t see any point on dwelling on the breakup. sure, he was the one who made the decision. he’s the one who put it out there. he’s the one who ended it and the one who is taking responsibility.

lucky for both of you, you don’t have any courses together and your schedules don’t really coincide. there’s no chance at any awkward run-ins. there is this weird, tiny feeling though. there’s this small inkling of something missing. you both suppress it. i mean, hell, the breakup just happened.

iii. scheming

meanwhile, your friends have all seemed to notice that the two of you are off. they aren’t sure what it is. they get that you two have had some time apart, but you’re both adults with lives. you have your own classes, jobs, other friends, and such. no one mentions it because they don’t think it’s their business.

but come on… there’s no way they won’t get to the bottom of it. our resident gossips, sunoo and sunghoon, team up and make it their mission to snoop around. of course, they take precautions to not get caught. the scheming duo find out nothing, to no avail.

now the gang of the scheming duo plus jay, jake, and niki have convened in the common room of jungwon’s dorm building. the 02z are all playing billiards in one corner. sunoo battles jungwon in a game of ping pong. the youngest of the group sits by himself on one of the couches, contemplating if he should speak up. they’ve been in a heated discussion as they try to figure out what exactly has been irking them.

riki, against his own conscience, speaks up to the five. he has this gut feeling and innocently wants to voice his opinion. “what if,” the young boy start out while gauging the faces of the others, “now don’t get mad and just hear me out.” he stops again, taking his time to make eye contact with each of the older boys, waiting until they all nod, “what if… they broke up?”

the group of friends all exchange glances with each other before breaking out into laughter. jay composes himself a bit, still chuckling when he says, “seriously? you think they broke up? heeseung and y/n? yeah, no way.”

sunoo leans onto the ping pong table and eggs him on, “they are literally soulmates.”

jungwon sets his racket down and goes to plop himself next to riki on the couch, “there is no way in hell the two of them split.”

iv. breaking news

“yeah, we split.” plain and simple. three words that crushed the poor hearts of jake and jungwon. he broke the news over brunch. he sensed their curiosity when they deliberately never brought you up.

“good joke there, dude. almost had me for a second.” jake says, awkwardly with a forced laugh.

the youngest of the three chiming in and agreeing, “yeah, that’s really funny.” a silence hits the booth. “you are joking… right?”

the oldest then looks back and forth between the two, tilting his head to one side like a confused pup. he doesn’t see why they think he would joke and simply replies, “nope. you guys haven’t asked so i’m guessing you tried to snoop around and pick up on my cues. i’m also guessing sunoo’s behind this whole operation.”

“ok wait,” jake interjects, “what do you mean you broke up? you can’t just break up.”

jungwon agrees, “he’s right. you two are just playing a prank on us.”

“guys, i’m serious. y/n and i are no longer together.” the two just freeze, jaws dropped, eyes wide. “besides, it’s better this way.”

v. bad timing

meanwhile the remaining four members of their friend group have met up in the campus library in an attempted study session. so far, they’ve just gone back to gossiping and slacking off. the boys all find themselves teetering on the verge of sleep. that is until sunghoon catches you walking in. immediately going to softly pat the others back awake, they all look up confused. trying to stay subtle, hoon jerks his head to the side in your direction.

you make your way to one of the shelves, searching high and low for a book you need for your literature class. sneaking up behind you comes choi yeonjun, the library aid and a friend of yours.

“need any help?”

“no thanks, i’m good jun.” you give him a polite smile.

unbeknownst to both of you, the failure of a study group has creeped to a closer table. they knew that you two were friends but they still can’t help but eavesdrop. “will you two please shut up so we can hear them?” the annoyed face evident on sunghoon’s face at the bickering of sunoo and niki. he turns to see jay, snacking and not paying attention. he rolls his eyes at the group, his gaze then catching yeonjun leading you out of the shelves. quickly shushing the three and nodding his head in your direction again, they finally get the hint.

yeonjun steps in front of you, “so you know my friend soobin, right?”

“soobin… as in choi soobin?”

yeonjun flashes his bright smile, “that’s the one.”

“yeah i know him. we had a stats class together a while back. he definitely taught me a few tricks around a calculator.” you laugh with him, “he’s super sweet, and needless to say cute too.”

“well, am i glad to hear that! long story short, he’s kinda been crushing on you lately and wants to know if you’re free. he mentioned your shared class before but he said he never got your number.”

“since you have mine already, go ahead and give it to him. tell him i’m free whenever he is.”

yeonjun raises his eyebrows at your boldness, “will do. i just wanted to ask you first before i gave it to him because… y’know…”

“no worries, i completely understand.”

he gives a quick goodbye before going back to his desk. storming quickly, four faces appear in front of you, all a combination of confusion, shock, and anger.

sunoo starts, “um… y/n. why are you telling yeonjun to give your number to another guy?”

“yeah, are you cheating on heeseung?” his partner in crime, sunghoon, joins in.

you pause and scan their faces. your face dawns an equally as confused expression. “how can i cheat on someone who isn’t my boyfriend?”

four jaws simultaneously drop. riki’s being the first to close and answer a bit hushed, “i knew it.”

jay turns to him in disbelief, “not the time, niki!”

“did heeseung not tell you guys?” you ask them slowly. “i assumed he would be the one to let you all know.”

“that you two broke up?!” sunoo asks angrily, being shushed by yeonjun from the counter. giving an apologetic smile then tuning back into your conversation, “what do you mean you two broke up?”

“we just… broke up. that’s it. end of story. now if you’ll excuse me, i have to actually study.”

they watch you check out the book you came in for originally and walk out the doors, unsure of what to do next.

vi. the intervention

arranging your monthly movie night was not exactly the easiest task given the tensions surrounding two people in your group. so the only logical solution that they all could think of was to simply not to tell one of you that the other was coming over. a fool-proof plan.

in the dorm of the 02z, you did not expect to see heeseung when you walked in.

he gets up from his spot on the couch, “what the hell is going on here?”

“yeah, an explanation would be nice.” you cross your arms as you glare at the younger boys.

niki, trying to act as mediator gestures for both of you two sit on the loveseat—the same loveseat that was always reserved for the two of you before. “this is an intervention.”

after the confession of their intentions, everyone goes quiet. not a single word is spoken for several minutes, no one knowing how to start. after much internal contemplation, jungwon finally attempts to start. “we brought you two here today because- you know what, i can’t do this.” he stops and cuts himself off, burying his face in his hands.

sunoo sits next to him with his arms crossed. “how dare you two? our parents gets divorced and we don’t even get a notice.” it was common for them to refer to you and heeseung as the parents of the group, being the oldest. although something about sunoo still calling you by that nickname stings, him shaking his head to display his disappointment making you feel guilty.

you see heeseung out of the corner of your eye avoiding looking up to your friends. “look, i don’t see the big deal. we broke up. that happens when relationships don’t work out.”

sunghoon quickly intervenes, “how can you say it isn’t a big deal? you’re letting three years go to waste and that’s all you can say? that’s what happens.” he scoffs at how shameless you come off.

“well, would you rather us stay together even when we were unhappy?” their reactions were a mix of shouts, the words yes, of course not, and duh all blending into each other.

that’s what brought your ex boyfriend out of his daze. “y/n has a point. we broke up and it’s over. we were no longer happy and i don’t see the point in bringing it up again either. it’s in the past. let it go.” he says rather coldly and sternly. him actually saying it and acknowledging it caused that weird feeling to come back. his body language is off, too. your years together has taught you enough about heeseung to know when he’s upset, especially with himself.

jake takes his turn, looking down at his fidgeting hands and muttering sadly, “but you promised each other forever.”

that prompts you and heeseung to glance at each other quickly, making eye contact and it lingering for a couple of seconds. you look away first, not noticing that his stare doesn’t leave you.”some promises just can’t be kept.” your response then making him turn away.

“bullshit.” it’s the first word uttered by jay this entire time. “neither of you are the type to break promises.”

“some things can’t be helped,” heeseung defends.

jay, getting angrier, asks his friend, “did you know that she’s already going on a date? yeah, that guy, soobin. i’m pretty sure you know who he is. your ex,” he makes sure to stress the last word with a certain degree of annoyance, “thinks he’s cute.”

emotionless, heeseung answers back, “good for her, then.”

you were sure that you were over him, that’s why you said yes to the date. but something about him not caring leaves you feeling odd.

jungwon stops your train of thought, “no, you’re supposed to be upset. you’re supposed to get jealous and confess you still want to be with her. you’re supposed to fight for her and be together.”

another quick glance between the two of you, lasting longer than the previous one. no words are said on his end, but you know exactly what he’s trying to say. “he doesn’t have to fight when i’m the one who ended it.” you knew him. you knew he couldn’t admit to the others his decision. after all, he wants to be a good role model even in his darkest times. he couldn’t crush their idea of love and you did what you had to do. you lied for his sake—and maybe even yours.

vii. him

two months have passed since the breakup. there’s tension amongst the friend group, the six not wanting to pick sides between you and heeseung. they’re constantly going back and forth, like they’re walking on eggshells as to not bring up something that only happened with the other.

to get your mind off everything, you’ve found comfort in soobin. well, more accurately you’ve found comfort in between his sheets, or wherever you two decide for it to go down. that’s not to say the dates aren’t great. you’re not official and you both know that. your latest date, however, couldn’t help but feel weird.

the date was going pretty well. don’t get me wrong—soobin is a great guy. he’s sweet, caring, funny, and handsome. you have a lot in common like your taste in drinks and movies. maybe if you had met him first, you would’ve dated him… but you didn’t meet him first. you met heeseung first, and soobin isn’t heeseung.

you found yourself drifting from the conversation now and then, thinking about how heeseung would’ve been at that moment. you think back to his habits, particularly the way he raises his eyebrows whenever he’s excited or talking about something he’s passionate about. you always found it endearing. over the course of dinner, you are able to notice that soobin has some cute habits too, like him covering his face when he gets shy or puffing out his cheeks. but it still isn’t the same.

“you two deserve each other.”

soobin catches your attention again with that comment. “what?”

“you and heeseung. i know that look. don’t try to lie to me.”

“look, heeseung is my past, and i want it to stay that way.”

“do you really want it to stay that way, or are you just afraid of what could happen if you let him back into your present?”

you give him a teasing glare, “don’t get all philosophical with me. i just don’t think he and i can go back to how we were before.”

“what’s so bad about you two changing? obviously if it didn’t work out, you shouldn’t try to be what you were before.”

“can’t i just try with you?”

“as much as i would love for you to give me that chance, i can’t do that to you or to myself. it’s not fair.”

you hesitantly ask him, “but is it worth it?”

“that’s not my decision to make.”

viii. her

now that you’re virtually not in his life, he seems to be looking for you everywhere. actually… rather than going out of his way to look for you, everything just reminds him of you. the jingles of the commercials you always sang along to, your favorite songs on the radio, the reruns of 90’s shows you always binged. hell, even when he was making ramen, he was reminded of how you would make his favorite for him every time he was stressed over an exam. he was sitting in the back of the lecture hall, trying so hard to stay awake for his 3 hour long class with the most boring professor on campus. he fought the urge to text you since it felt like second nature to rely on you to help cheer him up.

there was a particular night when it really hit him. reality smacked him in the face late one evening. heeseung was bored out of his mind, laying alone in bed, aimlessly browsing netflix to find something to watch. he thinks to himself y/n would’ve slammed this laptop closed and talked all night about random and obscure topics. he laughs to himself, reliving the memories. right then, it’s obvious. he misses her.

ix. promises

the rain hitting your bedroom window had no help on your already gloomy mood. what did help was the bottle of soju- well more realistically, four bottles of soju. it was all the liquid courage you needed to call heeseung at three in the morning.

you sat drowsily on the rug of your living room, your phone on speaker and placed in front of you as you stared out the dewy glass. you heard the phone ring seven times, ready to hang up until you heard his groggy voice come out from the other end. “hello? y/n, why are you up?”

you laugh softly and ask him, sounding loopy, “why are you up?”

“because you’re calling me. would you like to give me a reason why, and are you drunk?”

“maybe. anyways, you know… i was thinking. we broke a lot of promises and it hurts. i have to know that we’re not bad people. i have to keep at least one, right?”

heeseung groans but lets you ramble, knowing that you won’t stop until you’ve said it all, “go on…”

“we made a promise that if something was going on, if we were in a dark place, that we would talk to someone. well, if you couldn’t tell by now, i’m not in the best place. the first person i thought to talk to was you.”

“why me?”

“shhh… don’t ask questions. i know you’re tired so just stay on the phone and let me talk. ok?”

he goes quiet for a bit, sighing, “ok.”

“i miss you. i do. i don’t expect you to miss me but i just want to say it,” pausing to hiccup, “soobin helped me realize some things, saying some crap like we deserve each other.” you chuckle as you recall his words, “maybe he said it because bad people deserve bad people. maybe he said it because in our own fucked up lives, we’re the only ones who can understand each other. i did a lot of thinking and i’ve come to the conclusion that we don’t. because if we stay together, we can’t move on. we can’t grow. we can’t become good people, no matter how much we want it. that’s life. sometimes, no matter how much we want something, no matter how much we wish on stars or pray, some things just aren’t meant to be.”

“y/n, get some rest…”

“wait, i’m not done. you already can tell i’ve been drinking and to be honest i have been, for a while. i do it,” starting to choke up and sniffle, “because it helps me forget. even if it’s just for a minute that i can forget what happened, i’ll drink as much as it takes. i’ll grow out of it, eventually. i know i will, but for now… i have to do what i have to do. i’m sure you can relate.” you laugh again, getting more drowsy. you bring your legs up, hugging your knees. faintly, the sounds of heeseung’s snores play from your phone. you smile to yourself, “i wish you were here, singing me a lullaby. i don’t know when you fell asleep but goodnight. take care of yourself.”

cuddled up in his bed, heeseung hears you hang up. he lets you believe he didn’t hear what you said. he knows the reality of it all and the weight that you both are carrying. knowing that you won’t check your phone for the rest of the night, he sends you a quick text: bookstore, saturday, noon. goodnight.

as he turns off his phone to try to fall back asleep, he sees his reflection in the black screen. he sees his puffy, red eyes and his tear-stained cheeks. the end of it all is coming and finally, you two are ready for it.

x. love song

seeing him in person is a good idea. clearing the air, letting it all out, getting closure. all good ideas, you hope. walking into the bookstore was a weird feeling. when you spot him sitting by the window, you quietly make your way over. he looks up at your new presence, his feet shuffling out of nervousness. you notice the glass of pear juice on the small coffee table in front of him, already half empty.

“hi,” he says like a whisper.

“hi,” you awkwardly respond. it’s unlike the two of you to not know how to start a conversation. you make your way onto the cushioned seat, letting yourself get comfortable to help ease the tension. you each avoid the other’s gaze, not knowing how to begin. you sigh and finally ask, “how have you been?”

“busy,” he says as he nods, “finally took up actual music lessons. thought it would be better to have someone who’s played piano and guitar professionally instead of trying to teach myself.”

you softly giggle, “that’s good. you’ve always loved music.”

“yeah… how about you?”

“same, busy. i got the t.a position i applied for like forever ago.”

“congrats! you still looking to become a teacher?”

“well, generally yeah. i was having my doubts before but i just fell back into it. finally being able to be there, present, and guiding others… that’s what i want.” you sit there across from him, watching him and taking it all in. the man in front of you is heeseung, but not the heeseung you knew. no, this is the better version of him. the version of him where he can focus on himself. the version of heeseung that’s glowing and happy and ready to take on the world. “so, look. there’s no easy or delicate way to put it but i think there are things we both need to get off our chests.”

“agreed. since it all happened—the fights, the breakups, the ambush interventions—we haven’t actually talked.”

“those interventions… they were silly but the guys did help me realize some things. we’re growing up. sure, i thought we had this plan of us graduating, getting married, having a family, settling down, growing old. we both wanted that type of life. sadly, it’s not what happened and we have to live with it.”

he lets out a chuckle, “heeseung and y/n: meant for each other and meant to be.”

“but not meant to last. what a bittersweet and poetic ending."

“it’s like people always say: right person, wrong time.”

“you know… you used to tell me that our love song was the soundtrack to the best life you could live.” you reach out and take his hand in yours, “i just,” pausing to take a deep breath and compose yourself, “i just want you to know… that if anything happens-”

he cuts you off with a quiet gasp, whispering your name with a shaky voice, “don’t.”

you shake your head and gently squeeze his hand, “if anything happens… if in the end, we don’t find our way back and it isn’t us, don’t think we ended on a bad note.” you drop your head as you chuckle lightly before continuing, “cause you were always on key.” you give him a small grin, trying your hardest to not make things worse by crying. “we were just playing different tunes.”

he pulls you in closer to him, placing his hands softly on your cheeks. “i always hated seeing you cry,” he says as he wipes away the tears on your face, not bothering about his own. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close for the last time.

you stay there in his warmth, hearing him sniffle as he tries to hold back the falling tears. when you pull away, you tell him “i will always love you. maybe not in the way i thought i would but it’s still there.”

“maybe in our next life, it’ll be the right time.” with that, he leaves a kiss on your forehead, leaves the bookstore, and leaves your life. your duet that worked in perfect harmony now playing a beautiful cadence—two wandering artists, free to fill your own wretched worlds with new melodies, the bliss and tranquility of it all. the hope that maybe one day, you’ll be in each other’s lives again is enough.

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rametarin · 1 year ago

Text

Guy: "Welcome to the Bloodsplatter Hyperviolence Fantasy Team League! Where we harmlessly and cooperatively roleplay entirely fictional scenarios about hyperviolent team based combat, using dice!"

Outsider: "I LOVE THIS GAME!"

Guy: "Wanna play!?"

Outsider: "YES. LET ME PLAY."

Guy: "OK lets play!"

Outsider: "WAIT WAIT WAIT. I have some rules."

Guy: "OK. What are your preferred play methods?"

Outsider: "Okay first, blood is triggering so we're not allowed to play any organism or creature that can be mortally wounded. Context has to be that at best they're robots or magical constructs made of crystals or magical energy. This way no one gets hurt and no one's gore phobias are compromised."

Guy: "Well none of us have phobias related to blood or gore at this table, so.. we shouldn't have to do that."

Outsider: "But some players do! Doesn't matter if they're here or not, We should change the game to accommodate them! Baseline game rules meta. It's better. Principle matters."

Guy: "But why our game?"

Outsider: "I just think it's a more mature, more moral way to play the game."

Guy: "M'k."

Outsider: "Rule #2: No jingoism or hyperpatriotism or nationalism even in fiction! It sets a bad precedent, and any faction that does it we should put out of character notes that only Nazis and white supremacists specifically are that, and they're bad people, so nationalism is bad outside the context of badguys being bad."

Guy: "What. But the entire motivational driving force for Hyperviolent Bloodsplatter Fantasy Team League is the over-the-top ridiculous dry critique of the jingoism hypernationalism hyperviolence. That's.. that's the point. It's what drives the teams to be so extra and silly and hard and satisfying. No one is even depicted as any good because it's a clusterfuck of bad decisions and ego failure. The message these are bad is THERE."

Outsider: "Yeah but it teaches toxic masculinity and reinforces a cultural norm of nationalistic xenophobia and white supremacy. I saw a whole alleyway full of white supremacist unironic supporters of the Fashie Emperor who were dropping Hard Rs (both kinds) everywhere. We need to make THEM feel as uncomfortable at our table as possible."

Guy: "There's not one single team in this game that even features white people. Or black people. They're alien species."

Outsider: "The big monsters are coded as Black."

Guy: "How do you figure!?"

Outsider: "Here's this leftist book on literature you should read; Any time you see a big scary monster in western society and culture and fiction, it is, inarguably, a black person, because western culture and society is inherently and incurably racist. Therefore, there is no innocence to the boogyman or the closet monster, those are by default white people terrified of black poor people hiding in their closets waiting to kill them."

Guy: "WOW. Just.... WOW."

Outsider: "So there can't be any jingoistic story motivators for why these groups hate eachother. Instead I think they should just be arbitrarily competing with one another for no reason; they're just competing for resources out of desperation."

Guy: "Okay, the desperation angle already exists, so I can work with this."

Outsider: "Which we then use to introduce an overarching bad guy that just makes them fight for the entertainments of a capitalist white minority, the source of all their suffering and turmoil and disease! I drew the bad guy on this cocktail napkin."

Guy: ".. There's already a fascistic badguy doing that but it's for a robot empire, not a pastiche of, 'Ponald Prumph'....."

Outsider: "Huh? Oh, I haven't actually read about the setting much."

Guy ??!?!?: "Then how do you even know you like this franchise!? You don't know much of the lore or the teams.. do you even know the rules!?"

Outsider: "Next rule. The game pretends that unconsciable actions are morally gray, so these are my demanded meta narrative changes."

Guy: ".. So you've decided that the ethnic group that survives the big calamity and is trying to keep themselves from dying out have to be an analogue to a Native American tribe."

Outsider: "Yep, we should hire this PoC writer I know to write for them. In fact, we should keep hiring them, because once instituted into the game, you aren't allowed to write for them."

Guy: "Why am I not allowed to write the actions, motivations, character names and objectives of a faction in my own tabletop game?"

Outsider: "Because 1.) The game needs more DIVERSITY and REPRESENTATION. 2.) You are white, and fundamentally CAN'T know those people or cultures because of your privilege, so you aren't allowed to write for those ethic groups or cultures with any degree of authenticity. Your writing for those groups would inherently be bigotry and white ignorance; the worst kind of privileged ignorance."

Guy: "Then I simply won't write 'diverse' characters into my game."

Outsider: "I forbid you from even running games or stories that aren't diverse."

Guy: "Then you give me license and trust to write non-white non-straight characters as I imagine them, not as you'd prefer them."

Outsider: "No. You hire the minority writers whenever you want to involve those factions- and you must involve them for Diversity's sake- or you don't write, at all."

Outsider: "NEXT RULE! Combat is BORING. Only grognard racsm spewing Halo lobby players like tabletop combat. If combat can't be resolved within 3 turns, it ends prematurely and we get on with the story."

Guy: "B.. but the entire point of this game is the hyperfocus and sophisticated combat system! That's the APPEAL to this game."

Outsider: "Well now it's more story-centric. Where we can run stories about the white supremacist fascist empire pastiche oppressing the plucky transhumanist diverse and understanding good guys in their struggle against capitalism."

Guy: "I'm afraid our vision for what constitutes a fun game or story is irreconcilable and you must leave our table."

Outsider: "I'm afraid you aren't allowed to HAVE a platform unless you carry water for my ideology, so no. Change the game."

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thatjadedhotmess · 3 years ago

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vampire hcs

pairings: short anemo boiz @ kazuha, xiao, venti x gn!reader

warnings⚠️: mentions of blood and venti being drunk but otherwise I don't think there's anything else

note: super impromptu but I hope you enjoy it !! TvT

kaedehara kazuha (楓原万葉)

☁︎︎ I feel like he's fangs would be on the shorter side. like if xiao/thoma/eula had long fangs. Kazuha’s would be half or 3/4 of theirs.

☁︎︎ ok but not to be mistaken, he's fangs are sharp as fuck and they get their job done a little too well sometimes

☁︎︎ nics the inside of his lips bc sometimes his fangs are too sharp

☁︎︎ he obv amazingly good at literature and poetry like its only obvious with him

☁︎︎ if he's really in need of blood, he knows he can rely on you since you know about his true identity

☁︎︎ little vampire kazuha has probably attempted to bite into a raw fish because he thought that they would bleed like other animals

☁︎︎ yeah no he just got food poisoning instead and ended vomiting for a few days but here he is TvT

☁︎︎ is pretty good at controlling his urges and satisfies craving with grilled fish 🐟

☁︎︎ you can find kazuha at quiet libraries where he spends time writing poetry or looking for new books to read

☁︎︎ tbh I feel like if he were asking for blood he would be very polite about it but at the same time also just super straightforward

"hey sorry y/n, would be ok if I had some blood please?"

☁︎︎ seriously tho who are you to deny precious him of blood when he doesn't ask you about it that often

++ he's also so nice and would literally cook for you after he's done >:3

☁︎︎ has sharp thin fangs, kinda similar to that of a snake (bc he's an adepti and stuff yk so;~;)

xiao (魈)

☁︎︎ messy eater ¬‿¬ but does clean bites which means easier and faster recovery periods

☁︎︎ but he does clean up after himself ok he's just a gentleman like that

☁︎︎ I can imagine him zooming around with his e and just yeahh;-;;

☁︎︎ knowing that he also suffers from karmic debt I feel like he would be in pain if he doesn't feed. like if a normal vampire just felt an itch behind their fangs and faced some urges, xiao would probably be on a whole different level. I'm talking body aches and heavy breathing because he's actually in pain (poor baby TT)

☁︎︎ HE WOULD STUTTER TO ASK IF YOU COULD GIVE HIM SOME OF UR BLOOD

"h-hey y/n, would you uhh you know uhhh- could I have some blood please?"

venti (溫迪)

☁︎︎ he has no self control. period.

☁︎︎ is constantly smiling at people and showing off his fangs

☁︎︎ please do the man a favour and put him out of his suffering we love him TvT

☁︎︎ he does have very cute fangs tho:0

☁︎︎ he's been arrested for harassment (xiao bailed him out)

☁︎︎ I'd imagine they be a little larger and wider than kazuha's but slightly smaller than xiao's

☁︎︎ if he's not out hunting for prey he's at the tavern drinking copious amounts of wine and drunk singing his heart out at the Dawn Winery

☁︎︎ messy eater 2.0 but his bites aren't as clean as xiao's so they'll probably take slightly longer to heal and stuff

☁︎︎ once during halloween, venti dressed up as dracula and went around mondstadt in a vampire costume and a really badly done vampire makeup look that he got you to help him do (you only did it bc he was looking cute. you also told him he couldn't look in the mirror until the end of the night >:D )

☁︎︎ seriously you can imagine the kids giggling at him as he walked down the streets of mondstadt and the adults at the tavern laughing at his face

☁︎︎ *cue drunk kaeya and rosaria smacking their hands and heads on the table while laughing their ass off because of his 'smoky eyes'

☁︎︎ safe to say that venti will find a way to get back at you sometime in the future

#kaedehara kazuha #kazuha #kazuha fluff #adeptus xiao #xiao #xiao fluff #venti #venti headcanons #venti fluff #genshin #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #sage🍂 scribbles

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thewritetofreespeech · 4 years ago

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hello!! i've made a request before but this idea came in my brain and i heard your requests were open. So ive seen a lot of fics of the brothers saving mc, but what about mc kinda of saving the brothers, i mean like badass sword fighting style. Just like a stereotypical disney prince saves a princess mc kinda saves the brothers from getting killed by a lesser demon with a sword and just being badass (and sword) and the bros find it hot (weak humans? never heard of them)

*spongebob narrator voice* 400 years lat’er..... So sorry this took so long! I genuinely don’t know why I couldn’t get it done. When I actually tried, I got it done in like 2 days. My only excuse is that I’m a horrible trash munny >.<

Obey me Boys + Power Princess MC

Lucifer

It offends him that this creature, this being not fit to lick the soles of his boots, would raise their hand to him. The attack was not even what upset him, but just the gall. The utter stupidity of this decision to throw one’s life away. The fact that they had attacked with you around only made him wish to end that pathetic life that much sooner.

“Step back [Y/N]. I’ll deal with this quic—” Lucifer cut himself off when you rushed forward. A bright shining sword in your hand as you lunged. Slashing through the demon, who wailed and instantly turned to dust & ash. “What on Earth was that?”

“Oh. It’s my sword.” You reply nonchalantly. Turning around to show it to him. “It’s a holy arc sword, or something. I can summon it from my bracelet whenever I need it. Cool to know it actually works in a pinch.”

“And where did you get such a magical artifact?” Lucifer asked. Perplexed beyond reason, but trying not to show it.

“Lord Diavolo gave it to me when I first got here.” The demon arched a brow. Lord Diavolo? “It would be really irresponsible of him to just let a human wander around hell without some kind of weapon.”

He paused for a moment. Trying to piece all of what you had just said together. Then he just chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it would be.” And here he thought that he had been the only one protecting you. When all along you could do it yourself.

His hand reached out to pat your head fondly. His breast swelling with pride. “I’ll have to thank him for giving you such a thoughtful, practical gift. We’ll also have to add sword play to your lesson plans. I’d be more than happy to be your tutor.

Mammon

‘Shit!’ Mammon mentally cursed as he was hit again.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been rough up outside a club. Given his lifestyle, and his gambling track record, he’d been pummeled by a few bouncers in his life. With his immense power, he could easily take them; if he tried. But then he would be banned from the club, and ever other, and that was something he couldn’t handle over the humiliation of being beat up by these clowns. He needed this. It was all he had.

So, he took his beatings from lesser demons when they came around. He’d only wished they’d picked a different night to get their ‘payment’ back since you were supposed to be here soon.

“Come on guys. Don’t ya think you’ve had enough?”

“We’ll tell you when we’ve had enough!” One demon sneered at him, before kicking a man while he was down. Classy. “You owe us. And we’re gonna get back every cent you owe out of your hide!”

The demon reared his foot back to kick him again, and Mammon mentally sighed. Preparing himself for the kick and really being over this since it began. But….no kick came.

The demon let out a loud grunt over the sound of a metal ‘wack’ before the two, even lesser goons beside him suffer the same fate and they all slump to the ground. “Mammon! Are you ok?!”

The silver haired demon looked up at you in shock. The light from the street lamp causing a halo to form around you, highlighting your worried face as you brandished a rusty pipe like some great sword. “Yeah…I’m fine….”

“You don’t look fine! You’re all beat up!” He just sat there as you dropped the pipe and dropped down to him. Fretting over him as you looked him over. He couldn’t hear what you were saying over the beating sound of his heart in his ears.

No one had ever tried to help him before.

Mammon lifted his arms and wrapped them around you. “Mammon? What—“Let’s get out of here.” He interrupted as he hugged you. Standing up, and helping you to your feet, after a moment to walk out of the alley. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I wanna go somewhere with you.”

“But….I thought you wanted to go out tonight. Play cards. You said you were feeling lucky?”

He couldn’t tell if that was a jab or not, but replied, “well clearly I was wrong.” Though despite his bumps and bruises, he did still feel pretty lucky right not. “I just want to get out of here. I don’t need this anymore.” You both decide to head home to help Mammon nurse his wounds. He never went back to that club, or really any club, after that night.

Levi

“Levi….I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

“Nonsense!” Levi quipped in response to your perfectly reasonable, concerned feelings. “It’s just a little further. Besides, I want to see Henry 1! I’ve missed him a ton recently, and want to make sure he remembers me.” It had broken his heart to discover his poor, lost serpent had been down here, all alone, this whole time. So he made an effort to see him every now and then.

“Yeah but…isn’t this still like super-secret for Lord Diavolo’s family and stuff? What if there’s like booby traps and stuff?”

“Come on! There weren’t any booby traps or anything before. Why would he when he has Henry to keep it…..” Levi trailed off as both of you were ingulfed by a long, dark shadow. A low hissing sound growing louder as a gold, stripped serpent towered over you with a menacing glare. “That’s not Henry.”

The snake hissed loudly with bared fangs and an open mouth, and you both scream and run to get away from it.

The serpent of course chased you. Easily able to keep up, and only loosing you when the two of you duck into a narrow corridor. Levi turned around to say something to you, but you were gone. His immediate thought was that the stranger snake had gotten you, and it was all his fault, and he would never see you again!

When he came to the end of the corridor, walking out like a man on death row instead of running, he looked up to see the snake in front of him. Clearly angered by having to chase him. Levi didn’t care. He wanted to die if anything happened to you. He’d rather die than live one moment without you.

Prepared to accept his fate, the demon didn’t move when the snake unhinged his jaw to eat him in one gulp. Only for a sharp spike to thrust out from his mouth a moment later. A strange, hissing gasp escaping it before it slumped down in a lifeless heap on the floor. “[Y/N]!”

“Jesus! Not to put too fine a pin on it, but this place is literally a maze. One minute I’m next to you, and the next I’m in some armory on the other side of the hall 50 feet away. Are you alright Levi?”

The demon scrambled up the snake corpse to stand next to you and wrapped his arms tight around your being. “[Y/N]! I was so scared! I thought this Henry imposter got you, and you were dead, and I couldn’t think of anything!”

“I’m really ok Levi.” You assure him, as he wept into your shoulder. “Do you still want to see the real Henry? I think I spotted where he actually is when I was running back with the spear?” Levi nodded into your shoulder. Still not prepared to let you go.

Satan

Satan always tried to be a reasonable man.

He hated being referred to as ‘The Demon of Wrath’. It wasn’t his wrath that had caused him to be born. And he wasn’t any angrier than his brothers, so why did he have to be labeled the ‘bad seed’? So he always tried to be level headed. Calm. Patient. But there were somethings he just could not abide. Like the boorish behavior of someone talking loudly in the library.

“Excuse me,” the blonde said, attempting to remain calm, as he came over to the rude demon two tables over, “could you please keep it down? This is a library.”

“Yeah. I know what it is.” He quipped back rather snippily. “What are you? The librarian?”

“No. Just a fellow book lover.” Satan replied. Grinding his teeth now. “And one who can follow the rules and basic social decorum of keeping my conversations to myself in a place like this.”

“Are you calling me stupid?!”

“No. I’m calling you uncouth. A word meaning undignified, and without manners.”

“Why you!”

The demon rose to his feet, towering over Satan now that he was standing. Not that it mattered. Height was not an immediate representation of strength. Look at Belphie. His younger, shorter brother could level a whole city with a flick of his wrist. Satan could easily dispatch of his imbecile without even breaking a sweat.

He never got the chance though, as just after he stood the demon let out a grunt and slumped to the floor; with you standing behind him on his depleted chair with a book in your hand like you had just pulled it from The Stone. “Bet you’re glad I think Kindles are dumb now.”

Satan had to right himself on what he was seeing, and then frowned at you. “I never said that, and get down.” He insisted. Offering you his hand to get down. You hop down with ease and set your weapon book on the table. “Honestly, I could have handled him without resorting to violence or cheap theatrics.”

“Cheap?? This book was very expensive.” You insist, and Satan had to scoff.

“Be that as it may, please do not use books for more than their intended purpose. I appreciate the assist, but I can’t have you hurting yourself or fine literature in the future.”

“You’re such a buzz kill sometimes Satan…..”

Asmo

Asmo always loved going to the club. The dancing. The energy. The pulsing music. The people.

Well…usually the people. Some people, usually bro-dude demons, just couldn’t take a hint that ‘no’ meant ‘no’.

“Come on Asmo! Why are you being so stingy?!”

“I’m not being ‘stingy’,” Asmo replied with a frown marring his beautiful face. “I’m just not interested.”

“You were interested last time.” His pursuer replied. Like that somehow gave automatic permission that things would happen again.

“That was a long time ago.” The dusk haired blonde replied. Sipping his cocktail and looking thoughtful across the spacious VIP lounge over to you.

Yes, things had certainly changed. Once where it would take a whole room of people and attention to make him content, these days all he wanted was you. Just you sparing a moment to look at him made his heart feel incredibly full. He had come here to have a fun night out with you, but it seemed no matter where he went his beauty was always causing problems.

The lesser demon frowned, then looked towards the direction Asmo was looking to land on you. “Shoot, just bring them along with us.”

“Excuse me?” Asmo asked. Beautiful expression turning Ignatius as he sat down his drink.

“Bring them along. I’ve never had sex with a human. But there must be something to it if you’re willing to do them. Not that I suppose that takes much….”

At that, Asmo leapt from his chair and grabbing the brute by the collar. He wasn’t normally one for violence. He wasn’t like his dull brothers. But he couldn’t let a slight like that against you slide. “Take it back!”

The two demon’s scuffle. Clearing out the VIP lounge as everyone ran. Scared that they might transform at any moment and literally tear each other apart. Asmo somehow ended up on his back, a position that usually didn’t bother him, as the other reared back to punch him in the face.

Or, at least he would have if he didn’t start convulsing and fall on the ground a moment later.

“Asmo! Are you ok?!”

The Lust Demon looked at you for a moment. Then delicately covered his mouth with both hands. Returning to normal. “[Y/N]! You saved me!!”

“Yeah. This little thing packs a punch.” You replied. Holding out your little pink taser from She-Sword from your clutch. “I couldn’t let this jerk hurt your beautiful face.”

“No one is more beautiful than you my fierce warrior queen!” He praised. Basking in the moment for only a second before you both scamper off before security came.

You both might be beautiful, but you didn’t want to end up on the evening news.

Beel

“I want to take up kendo.” Beel announced to you one day. Out of the blue. “I’ve been looking for ways to add variety to my workout. I came across this video on kendo and thought it would be fun.”

Of course, Beel knew you had practiced kendo in the past at school. So he might have also been looking for fitness activities for you to do together. In any case, he really liked seeing you in your little workout outfit. It was super cute.

He also liked you showing him the basics of kendo; stance, footing, basic strike movement. When he felt he had gotten the hang of it, Beel jovially asked for a sparring match with you.

“I don’t know….”

“Come on [Y/N], sparring with someone is the best way to learn fighting.” He reasoned. “Besides, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I’m not worried about that….” He heard you mutter under your breath, but thought that he must have imagined it as you squared off.

Standing across from you in the arena, something changed. The hair on the back of Beel’s neck stood up. Not in the excited way that it normally did when he saw you. But something more….primal. His grip tightened a little more as he realized he might have to get a little serious with you.

It was all for nothing though as the match was over just as soon as it started.

The shinai went flying out of his hands, landing across the room just as Beel landed on his butt. His backside throbbing as his bell was rung clear as day. He rubbed his head as he looked up at you. “I may have forgotten to mention that I was three-time national kendo champ all through school.”

The demon looked up at you with a shiny, sparkly gaze only until now reserved for delicious food. “Teach me sensei!”

Belphie

He hated being out. He wanted to go home.

Being outside in the sun, with all these…..people was hell to him. Belphie would rather be home, in actual hell, with his blanket and pillow and quiet, rather than ‘top side’ with you for the whole afternoon. Not that it was you or anything. You were the only bright star on this miserable day. He’d be damned if he’d let one of his brothers spend the day with you when he could.

“Belphie, do you want an ice cream? Maybe that will help with the heat?”

He wanted to say that the only thing that would help him was getting the hell out of here. But, he bit his tongue. The demon knew how important this was to you to come ‘home’ now & then and he didn’t want to ruin it for you. So he just nodded and asked, “strawberry please.”

He sat in the shade as he watched you go over to the ice cream truck alone. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he was just a hopeless shut in. Like Levi, only worse. He just wanted humans so much that being around them was making him crankier than normal today.

“Geez, get a look at that side show over there.”

Belphie looked up from his daze at the human who was a few yards away from him. Snickering and staring with his friends in a voice that a regular human wouldn’t be able to hear. “If you have something to say, then say it, you chicken shit fuck.” Again, he was very cranky.

The human was obviously taken aback at being heard and then called out like that. “What did you say to me?!” He yelled, once he got his bearings on the situation, and took a ‘threatening’ step forward to see if he would repeat it.

“I said ‘If you have something to say, then say it, you chicken shit fuck’.” Of course he repeated it. “Don’t mutter something under your breath like a coward. Say it like a man, or keep your gross mouth shut.” This was why he hated humans. No spine.

Well, metaphorical spine. If he kept this up, Belphie was gonna prove that he had a spine when he ripped it out and made him wear it as a neck tie.

“You little fuck--!” Belphie, of course, didn’t move when he stomped closer. Not that he needed to, because he was stopped in his tracks rather abruptly when you stepped between then. Holding a knife from your pocket.

“I suggest you get out of here, before the only ‘side show’ around here is your knife swallowing act pal.” The man seemed to frozen for a moment as he tried to process if you were serious. Then his flight instincts kicked in and he took off running with his friends across the park. “Gosh, I think I’ve been spending to much time with you guys. I never would have done anything like this before.” You said after a sigh, then turned back to Belphie.

“My hero.” He cheered softly, in his typical tired voice but still with a soft smile. Seeming extremely proud of the bad influence he was on you.

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darkwood-sleddog · 4 years ago

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Ok, this is a very genuine question, but could you please list out and maybe go in a bit detail on what's wrong with the whole AKC, and history? I've very curious with wanting to know when such a stress on looks and bloodline came to be, especially when older breeds were simply bred for a job.

The AKC and kennel clubs as a concept are not inherently a bad thing. I think registries are a GREAT thing, we should be keeping track of pedigrees and accepting registrations imo. What’s frustrating to me is the closing of stud books (meaning no new blood can enter breeds) and an unrealistic expectation/desire for perfection/uniformity and the attitude that surrounds that.

Dogs shows and kennel clubs came to be because people wanted a way to exhibit their breeding stock and compare them, so they could plan their breedings, they sprung up around cattle showing (and we can see the similarities to these two venues today). There’s a pretty nice article HERE.

In the modern day, many people believe that a breeding is only reputable if the dog is both health tested AND titled to Championship. It was not always like this in the past, just go look at pedigrees from the early and mid century 1900s. Championship and often Grand Champion in the US have become expectations to prove ones reputability instead of proving the actual quality of the dog. Breeders that breed non-championed dogs can be ripped into by many people, believing that the dog has not proven itself to be breeding quality (often completely ignoring that the dog may bring other things to the breeder’s program like a good temperament, working attitude, genetic diversity, structural fixes etc).

The sport of showing, or taking conformation as a sport to excel in rather than what it is supposed to be (an evaluation of breeding quality in dogs) creates a competitive atmosphere which means that people will be acquiring or breeding a dog that meets what is most likely to win. This causes extreme uniformity (it is not unrealistic to expect breeds to be uniform and represent breed type across a spectrum in the breed, but for them to look clone like is, imo, not it). This competitive nature has gradually grown and grown over the years, as is natural (humans love to compete with each other).

In addition, the show world is very “who you know” so judges are not necessarily impartial (and this is not a new thing in dog shows, the partiality of judges has been questioned since the beginning lmao) and well known judges may put up dogs related to their own lines or what they desire, creating a specific ring look. In a desire to win (be it conscious or not), many people will breed towards a ring trend and this is how many breeds have changed dramatically or subtly over time in addition to actual improvements and disprovements in structure and health that may happen over time with breeding programs. This creates an exclusive club that truly feels outing to those not on the “in” and the exclusive group of people will push their agenda, therefore forcing those with slightly differing dogs to look elsewhere (truly some of these people can be so nasty and the rise of social media has not helped this). This means that dogs that don’t fit the now very narrow view of the breed are pushed out of show circles or into non AKC show circles, effectively reducing the gene pool (because often AKC folks will look down on non AKC clubs in the US and not intermingle their dogs). In addition, in AKC dogs can be handled by a professional handler, somebody who makes money specifically off handling dogs in the show ring, creating further exclusivity (handlers can be expensive and is also connected very much to “who you know”), competitive nature, and includes a bit more capitalism.

The extreme uniformity in many show dogs we see today is the result of closed stud books. When a stud book is closed you can’t add ANY new genetics, this makes it very easy to breed true to type (meaning when you breed a border collie to a border collie you will get more border collies for example), but as dogs are culled from that gene pool (perhaps they don’t fit the ring trend or have a minor flaw like a white marking), the dogs become very closely related. Especially when you are in show circles many of the dogs are even MORE closely related. This causes extreme uniformity because the show only people are unwilling to take dogs into their gene pools they deem “lesser” for being a bit different, but no less of the breed than their own. Now many breeders are aware of the dwindling genetic diversity in their breeds and conscious do things to help this, however it’s not enough of them imo.

To fix some of these issues Champion and Grand Champion need to be reserved for truly exceptional dogs and I think for working breeds a working test prior to championship being attained would be appropriate and for companion breeds, a companion temperament test. Currently if a dog is campaigned for a length of time and the judges they are shown under are chosen carefully, they can champion (dogs need 15 points and 3 major wins for CH in AKC). Which is not necessarily then a mark of quality, just a mark of how much money/time the owner/breeder had to put towards the dog achieving points). A less exceptional dog may be campaigned for a long amount of time and a truly wonderful example of a breed may campaigned for a short amount of time and they will both be Champions (and unless you know what went on with that specific dog and aren’t very educated in that specific breed then how will you know the quality of Dog 1 is different than that of Dog 2 when they are given an equal stamp of quality from the show ring?)

A more expansive grading of the dog’s quality (E for Exceptional through P for poor for example vs just points/Champion and above) would allow a greater diversity in the ring and a more nuanced explanation of what that judge/club thinks of the dog’s breeding quality (The Norsk Kennel Club has a system similar to this). Reduce entry fees. Ban professional handlers (reduction of capitalistic intent in the show ring), make Champion a mark of a truly exceptional dog, understand that not every dog is exceptional, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t breeding quality. Make health tests on parents mandatory for the registration of litters. Open stud books. Make registrations more easily to looked up/at. If a marking or coloring occurs naturally/historically within the breed it should be fine to show (I’m looking at YOU white shepherds). Would that make showing more complicated? Heck yeah. Would any of these changes be likely to happen? Heck no...the AKC is pretty stuck in their ways.

This is a really complex question, not one I’m able to answer in 100% accuracy in terms of why and how, other than....dog people are privileged. And they operate the AKC as such. I recommend looking into the literature from decades past and comparing them with prevailing attitudes now to get a better feel for how your breed of choice may have changed for better or for worse. Old breed literature and looking at how that literature evolves over time is a great insight into the ever morphing attitudes in the AKC.

#faq #dog breeding #akc #not against akc or kennel clubs at all #just they need to modernize and change imo #mysty-nights-and-water-ghosts

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timeloop-angel · 2 months ago

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Yeah dude that novel called idk. "A Court of Blades and Roses"(made up name) is so fucking cringe. Do you see how cringe and bad that name is? The story is also sooo bad and cringe and wow nowadays women people can't write anymore! Media literacy is dead! If you read those stuff you're obviously dumb and can't have any good Literate(tm) opinions!

^this is the sort of person im talking about.

Get normal about shitty YA. Its not killing anyone. Yes the fact that people aren't using critical thinking nowadays and everything is deemed problematic and many books are tiktokfied with ao3 tags and tropes is alarming. I do think that criticizing and debating those things are important

But also at this point these discussions stopped being discussions and now are excuses to shit on people. Let people fucking enjoy their things.

Those problems dont start and end with YA books being this way nor reading/writing "bad literature" makes one's opnions worthless. "Bad literature" is still literature, even if the books has shallow writing and characters! Those things don't take away its literacy! And also! "Bad art" has its worthy, because it's important to someone, because some teenager outthere who just started reading books will find those stories amazing and will inspire them to read more and even write a book themselves, because there is someone who really needs some escapism and a shitty book might be what they needed. Heck, it doesn't even need a deep reason- these books are entertaining to someone and that already makes it worthwhile.

Ok the tiktoker saying its highest piece of literature might be annoying, but hear me out: the first time you read a book in your life- especially a fantasy book or romance- did you never thought it was the most amazing best thing ever? Did you never felt an entire universe opening to you, did you never felt extremely marveled? Isn't that a canon event to every reader? Maybe you will find out that that book is actually pretty shitty and avarage but that's something everyone goes through and more importantly: without that shitty book you might never actually got to read other better books.

And also- many times those posts aren't even actually critizing certain books- the op might never ever read them. At all. They simply see the generic title and stock image cover, see young girls loving it on tiktok and then just straight deem its bad. Without fucking reading it.

"Oh but of course its not misogyny! After I am queer who reads Actual Literature and also those books are made by white women. So its fine to dunk on them!"

Forgetting that 1. That hey many YA books that fall into the stereotype are also made by WOC and 2. Putting the "white" adjective just to have a justification to dunk on what women like and act like they actually want to be abused for reading those stories isnt a verg feminist thing to do, yes even you're a woman yourself. You arent magically free from internalized misogyny.

Yall r simply being mean, assholeish and acting like those popular high school kids who want to be seen as cool and funny when you simply aren't and is more probably than not an actual adult.

When will people will get normal about shitty YA books?

#🪐.txt #sorry not sorry. as someone who reads webnovels most of my time YA fans are my siblings in arms #webnovels fans 🤝 YA fans -> having the books they like not being seen as actual literature/books and being boilled down to their stereotype

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marvelship-oneshots · 4 years ago

Text

SNOWED IN (STONY)

HI! this is my first fill for the "Snowed in" square of the Stony Trope and AU bingo by @therollingstonys hope you like it!

Where Steve goes to Tony's place to study, but it suddenly starts snowing and and they find themselves stuck in the house for the entire weekend. [3.9k words]

Steve hated everything that had something to do with math. Or science, for that matter. He was passionate about art, literature, languages and he could work his way around sports, but math, physics or biology were subjects that he couldn’t understand, no matter how much he tried to. It was not like he would need them in his future, as he decided to go to culinary school after graduating high school. But he needed the grades, unfortunately.

Steve sat in the empty study room of his school and took out of his backpack his very big algebra book. On the cover, there were a bunch of smiling students. But Steve was not smiling. He actually wanted to scream and tear apart the book just from looking at him.

He hesitated, contemplating giving up, before actually opening the book and diving into the impossibly difficult exercises.

The door of the room opened and a breathless student came running in. He hid behind Steve, sitting on the floor. It took him two seconds and Steve barely saw his face, but he could recognize him from his messy hair and his singular perfume. Cologne and cigarettes. That student was undoubtedly Tony Stark, the richest, most popular student of the school. But if asked Steve, Tony was his first, real crush.

Tony was just a sophomore and wasn't part of any sports team, but nonetheless, he was the most envied student of the school. Those who didn’t want to be with him wanted to be him. Steve was part of the first category but gave up hope a long time ago.

“Please, please, I beg of you, act like I’m not here”

Yeah, easy to say when Tony couldn’t feel Steve’s heart beating a hundred miles per hour. Or see his pale cheeks now turned red. Or the knot in his throat because that was the first time ever they were even in the same room, that they both know of.

If asked, Steve would deny that he knew exactly which was Tony’s favourite restroom, which were Tony’s least favourite classes, that he would ditch for the better part of the lesson to wander in the corridors, or which was the best table at lunch to see Tony best. Bucky, Sam and Wanda wouldn’t be of the same opinion, though.

The door opened again and Steve looked up from his textbook, watching as Clint stepped in and looked around.

“He’s not here, is he?”

Steve frowned.

“Who’s not here?”

He would have known who Clint was talking about even if Tony wasn’t hiding behind his chair.

Clint huffed and closed the door shut.

“Are they gone?” Tony asked in a whisper.

“Yes”

“Thank you for creating a safe place for me, man. Knowing that dum dum, they won’t be back for a while” Tony said sitting on the chair next to Steve.

Steve tried to ignore his presence and definitely not to look at him, but it became more difficult when Tony moved his chair closer to Steve’s to take a look at the book.

“Uh but that’s easy” Tony mumbled before starting to explain how to do the exercises.

Soon enough, maths started making sense for Steve.

“How do you even know this? This is senior years stuff and you’re like”

“A sophomore, yeah I know” Tony cut Steve short “I guess the genius runs in the family”

Steve scoffed, shaking his head, moving on to the next exercise.

“Can I ask you something?”

Tony nodded, without looking up.

“What was that all about?”

Tony looked up.

“Oh I asked Natasha on a date on Friday and Clint didn’t take it well”

Steve didn’t take it well either. He felt a pinch of jealousy eating his guts, but he just smiled and nodded, going back to the exercise Tony working on.

“Listen, man, if you want I can help you with all of these shit subjects” Tony said, standing up, before walking out of the study room.

“Yeah no, it’s really not necessary”

“Oh, I insist. I’ll bring my notes on Monday”

Steve rolled his eyes. That day he understood that Tony didn’t like taking a no for an answer.

“‘Right. See you on Monday then,...” Tony hesitated, completely forgetting to ask for his name.

“Oh, it’s Steve”

“Right Steve” Steve could feel the engines in Tony’s head working.

“I’m Tony, by the way”

Steve smiled. “I know”

Tony looked at Steve as if he was crazy and walked out.

“Are you for real? He introduced himself and you replied ‘I know’?” Bucky asked, a little too louder for Steve’s taste and slapping him on the back of his head.

Steve had his head buried in his arms on the table of the canteen and growled. He had slapped himself several times since that day, but he didn’t have the chance to tell his friends.

“What the hell is wrong with you man?” Sam rolled his eyes “You were supposed to say, I don’t know, nice to meet you or something, definitely not I know”

“He’s going to think I’m a weirdo. Or a stalker”

“Yes, he will dude” Wanda replied, patting on his shoulder.

“Stevie, incoming, get up” Bucky warned, seeing Tony walking towards them.

“Tell Sharon I don’t want to talk to her”

“Well, I hope you’ll want to talk to me”

Steve’s head tilted up, recognising Tony’s voice, and kicked Bucky under the table for not being too specific.

“Yeah, uhm. Sorry, hi”

Tony took something from his backpack and laid on the table an enormous folder, separated into four big sections by coloured sticky notes.

“Here, the notes I talked to you about the other day”

“You just had all of these notes laying around?”

Tony shook his head, proudly.

“Nope made them all just for you”

Steve looked at Tony and then at Bucky, hoping he could read the brunet better than he could.

“I didn’t want to bother you with notes you already had, let alone making them just for me”

“You didn’t and will never bother me, Steve-o”

Steve blushed, looking away as fast as he could”

“I’m Tony by the way. Or did you already know that too?”

Tony held out his hand to Sam, who shook it forcefully. Wanda and Bucky loudly chuckled. Steve sent a deadly stare on Wanda’s way and kicked Bucky on his ankle.

Steve took the hint when Tony sat more comfortably on the bench next to him, stealing some fries from his lunch trail, and Bucky elbowed him in the ribs, in a clear final to start a conversation.

“So… how was your date?”

“Excuse me?” Tony stopped to look at Steve with a fry still mid-air “What date?”

Steve looked at Bucky and Sam, begging to help him out, but they were both too busy staring into each other’s eyes to notice.

“Your date with Natasha”

Wanda crossed her arms in front of her, eager to see where this was going and Tony looked perplexed.

“Yeah, you know, you told me that you asked her out and your friend was mad about it”

And I was mad about it, Steve thought but didn’t add anything.

“Oh that. Ok, no, you got it all wrong”

Steve’s eyes widened.

“I did ask her out just because Barton had been talking about her forever and didn’t have the balls to do it themselves”

Steve blushed and Wanda had to turn away. If Tony hadn’t been there, she would have burst out laughing in Steve’s face, but she was a good enough friend not to embarrass him in front of his crush anymore than he already was.

“Glad we cleared that out but now I have to go. I will pick you up on Friday after school. Pack an overnight bag and your books, you're in for an intensive Stark study session” Tony declared, getting up, shoving the rest of Steve’s fries in his mouth.

“And just so you know- Tony stood beside Steve, with his hands on Steve’s broad shoulder, and whispered in his ear- I like ‘em blond, tall and oblivious”

Tony winked at Steve’s friends, who were staring at him with their mouths open, and walked away.

Steve suddenly turned red and buried his head back into his arms crossed on the table.

“What did just happened”

“Dude, I think he just asked you out AND called you oblivious” Sam replied, before the three of them burst out laughing.

Only four days passed for Friday to come, but to Steve, it felt like four years.

Steve walked out of the school, waiting for Tony in the parking lot. He leaned against a metal fence, talking to his friends.

“Oh c’mon Wanda, you’re ditching us too?” Sam whined after Wands told them she couldn't make it to their usual videogame afternoon. Steve knew why, no one in the right state of mind would want to third wheel for Sam and Bucky.

Bucky put an arm behind Sam’s back, pulling him closer to his chest.

“This means that we have the house to ourselves” he whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, before shoving his tongue into his boyfriend's mouth.

“Disgusting” Steve growled, looking away.

“Alright, I’m out of here” Wanda said, smacking a kiss on Steve’s cheek.

Bucky pulled away from the kiss and lightly hugged Wanda, before turning to Steve.

“Pot, kettle. You’re the one here with a three-days-date with mr playboy”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“He’s two years younger, Bucky. Two years”

Tony pulled up in front of the three in a bright orange AUDI and honked twice to get Steve’s attention. Steve opened the door and sat in the seat next to Tony. Before he managed to close the door, Sam and Bucky started making obscene gestures and sounds.

“Drive away, Tony, for the love of God” Steve mumbled, turning to secure the seat belt and flipping off his friends from the car window.

The car ride was silent, not out of embarrassment, but because they didn’t have anything to talk about. Maybe they would have found something of common interest if either one of them had the balls to start a conversation. Which was weird because usually, Tony couldn’t shut up to save his life.

They were going in the opposite direction from Tony’s house and Steve wanted to ask why, but he wasn’t supposed to know where Tony lived and didn’t want to look like a stalker.

Eventually, they arrived in a large private parking lot. They both jumped out of the car and took all of the bags from the car. Tony had an incredible amount of things for a two-days-steak out, and Steve offered to carry some of the bags.

“You’re my knight in shining armour” Tony said with a smile that went from ear to ear and Steve’s heart almost skipped a beat.

Then, they both walked for 15 minutes until they arrived at a luxurious cabin. Tony kicked the mat, revealing the key and opened the door, letting all of the bags fall in the middle of the big corridor.

Steve helped Tony put away the groceries after dinner and then brought out his books. Tony returned from the toilet with a box of Monopoly.

“What exactly are you doing?” Tony asked, looking at Steve and the mountain of books on the kitchen table.

“I thought we came here to stu- Steve cut himself short after seeing Tony’s expression- never mind” he finished, putting the books back in the backpack.

“Dude- Tony slammed a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses on the table- it’s Friday night. We’ll think of the shitty stuff tomorrow”

Tony laid on the table the cardboard and divided the money between the two of them.

“So. You’ve heard of Monopoly, but have you ever played drunk Monopoly?”

Steve shook his head.

“Every time you land on someone else property, you chug one shot, if you go to prison, it’s three for every turn you spend in it”

Steve’s eyes widened. That was going to be a lot of alcohol, especially for someone who hadn’t even tried beer yet. But he nodded anyway because, well, Tony.

After they finished the first round around the board, Steve threw the dice and landed on Tony’s property. Tony smirked and poured vodka in one glass and slid it to Steve. Steve looked at the glass and then at Tony, with a disgusted expression.

“Down in one sip, it’s not as bad as it seems”

Steve brought the glass closer to his nose, smelling the piercing smell of alcohol, he closed his eyes and drank in one chug. He felt like his throat was on fire, but after a couple of rounds, it was like chugging water.

They were both lightheaded and had ditched Monopoly to move to the couch. Tony was lying with his head on a cushion, with his legs on Steve’s lap. He poured some more vodka into the glasses and handed it to Steve. He held out his glass, letting them cling together.

“За здоровье” Tony said with a smile.

“What was that?” Steve asked, laughing.

“It’s Russian, it means ‘drink to health’”

Steve laughed, throwing his head back.

“I didn’t know you knew Russian”

“I don’t, this is the only thing I know. The only important thing to know actually”

They both laughed as Steve caressed Tony’s ankles.

“Tony, can I ask you something?”

Tony looked up.

“Where are your parents? I mean, aren’t they mad you’re here without them?”

Tony rolled his eyes and sat up. He took the bottle of vodka and drank directly from it.

“My parents don’t even know what grade I’m in. I’m going to bed now” he replied with harshness in his voice as he got up and walked to the bedroom, stumbling.

Way to go Steve.

The morning after Tony woke up to the smell of freshly made pancakes. He walked into the kitchen with a huge smile, inhaling the perfume. He gulped when he realised that Steve was the one flipping pancake, topless. He stopped by the door, admiring Steve’s perfect back muscles.

“I could kidnap you if it means I get to wake up like this every morning” Tony mumbled, sitting on the stool. Steve smiled, flipping the last pancake and sliding it on the plate. He put two blueberries and a slice of fried bacon to make a smiley face.

He slid the plate in front of Tony, who looked at Steve with a little smirk. Steve observed Tony’s face while he ate his pancake. It was like the tension of the night before had been drowned in their sleep.

Tony let out a loud moan and Steve almost spat his coffee. Tony noticed and chuckled.

“This is the shit, Steve-o” Tony screamed, sliding another stack of pancakes on his plate and drowning them in maple syrup.

They worked the whole day, without even feeling like time was passing. Steve was actually feeling like he was understanding something, which was really good.

After dinner, Tony brought out a poker set.

“Strip poker, you up for it?”

Steve tensed in the chair. Tony noticed and started to look for something in his pocket.

“I have something to ease the tension if you want to” he said, sliding a packet of weed through the table.

Steve’s eyes widened.

“I don’t- I don’t really feel comfortable, y’know, smoking it”

Tony put on a disappointed expression, putting it back in his pocket.

“I can bake it though” Steve winked at Tony, letting him put the bag in his hand.

Tony sat on the counter, swinging his legs as he licked every spoon Steve put down. He ground the weed and it to Steve, who mixed it with the batter before putting the brownies in the oven.

Tony sat on the counter, waiting for the brownies to be ready, swinging his legs in a very childish way, while Steve drew a little sketch of him on his notepad.

When the timer rang, Steve made sure to close his sketchbook before taking them out of the oven and cutting them into even squares. He put them on a plate before sitting at the kitchen table and starting mixing the deck.

Tony took a brownie and bit it, letting out a loud moan.

“Seriously, how do you do it?”

They were already high when they got into the real game. The first items to fall on the floor were the socks, then their sweatshirts and t-shirts, leaving Tony only with his boxers on. Steve still had his t-shirt.

Steve laid his card on the table, smirking at Tony.

“Those- he pointed at Tony’s briefs- have to go” he said smiling as he took the deck, mixing and handing out the cards, without taking his eyes off Tony. Tony took his sweet time getting up and started playing around with the elastic, getting it lower on his hips as he got in front of Steve, who tried to look at his cards, avoiding looking at Tony, sliding his underwear to his ankle, kicking them as far as possible.

Tony walked closer to Steve, tilting his head up with a finger from under his chin.

“Look at me, Steve-o”

Steve started with his mouth slightly open. Tony moved his chair, sitting on Steve’s lap, moving his hips on Steve’s. He took the cards from Steve’s hand, putting them down on the table.

“Let’s pretend- Tony slid his hands under Steve’s t-shirt- just for a second-he pulled the limbs of the white cotton up, moving his hips on Steve’s a bit more- that you lost this round, huh?”

Steve moaned and Tony managed to take the t-shirt away. He scooted back a little to admire Steve’s toned body until he fell ass fist on the floor. They both laughed and then Steve took a piece of brownie and kneeled over Tony. He spread the chocolate crumbles all over Tony’s chest. Smirking, he started hovering over Tony, before lowering his face and licking every last piece of cake from his skin. Tony gulped as he fell the little wet kisses on his stomach.

Once Steve stopped, Tony took the chance to turn the tables, pushing Steve on the floor. As he sat on his hips, Tony felt Steve growing harder under him. He started moving in circles, smirking as Steve started squirming under him.

“If-if you’re going to make me...cum- Steve panted- you can at least k-kiss me”

Tony chuckled, lowering himself over Steve’s face. He caressed his cheek with his thumb and then moved to his lips, brushing them, without asking his eyes away from Steve’s. Their lips barely touched before Tony stood up and went back to moving his hips on Steve's and chuckled when Steve tried to protest.

Tony’s movement became slower and slower until he felt Steve's underwear getting wet under him. He sped his movements until he released all over Steve’s chest.

Sunday was a normal, lazy Sunday. They cuddled on the sofa under a cosy blanket. To be honest, they didn’t even bother putting any clothes back on. They just kept doing their exercises in their birthday suits, teasing each other, but never going over small, wet kisses on their chests. At some point, Tony fell asleep on Steve’s chest and Steve did shortly after while stroking Tony’s hair.

When they woke up, it was already dark outside. During the afternoon it started snowing. They hoped it would stop by the time they had to leave. However, during their nap, it snowed even more violently and it didn’t look like it was going to stop anytime soon. The road conditions were not ideal to drive back. The only thing they could do was stay right where they were.

“You don’t mind staying here until tomorrow morning, do you?” Tony asked, playing with Steve’s hand as they were watching a movie on the sofa.

“Nope, not even a little bit” Steve mumbled, smelling Tony’s hair.

The plan was fine, if only they hadn't slept through every single one of their alarms.

Tony hit Steve with a pillow, waking him up, while he jumped around trying to slide on his jeans.

“We’re fucking stupid. So fucking stupid”

Steve yawned, stretching his arms when Tony threw a shirt on his face.

“Take only the things you need and leave everything else here, we’ll take care of that later” Tony yelled, pouring coffee in a thermos and packing in a box some cookies Steve baked in the evening.

“Go, go, go, c’mon” Tony pushed Steve out of the door and down the track.

They jumped in the car and Tony started driving it out of the parking lot, humming a rock song Steve didn’t know. Steve held the thermos close to Tony, as he sipped the hot beverage with a straw.

“Cookie” he asked right before Steve handed him one.

They pulled up by the school just in time not to be late for the first lesson. Steve kissed Tony’s cheek before turning towards his classroom.

“See ya later” Tony screamed.

“Dude, what’s that?” Bucky asked, pointing at the t-shirt Steve was wearing, once they were in the corridor, after the lesson.

“What?” He asked before looking down at it. “Oh, shit. Uhm…”

Steve scratched the back of his head, realising that the shirt was a little tight and was constricting every movement.

“It’s Tony’s. We had a uhm...a nice weekend”

Tony came up from behind him, sparking him on the butt.

“I can see that” Sam chuckled on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Is that your shirt, Steve?”

Steve blushed in response.

As the group started walking away, Steve pulled Tony into a toilet, pushing him into a stall as soon as they checked that no one was in there.

Tony locked the door.

“Uhm, I like where this is going” he said with a smirk.

“Not what you’re thinking, Tony. I just need my shirt back, I’m having almost no movement here”

Tony chuckled.

“But I like yours. It’s big and cosy and it smells like you”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Ok, let’s make a deal. You give me my shirt back and I’ll lend you my sweatshirt”

Tony seemed to think about that for a few seconds.

“Only if I get to hold on to it as long as I want to”

“Deal”

Eventually, Steve, with a lot of difficulties, managed to take off Tony's shirt, handing it back to its legitimate owner. Tony was starstruck by Steve’s perfect chest, although he had been seeing a hell of a lot of it in the past couple of days. Steve pulled off his shirt from Tony and wore his.

Once Tony was dressed, Steve went to open the door of the stall but Tony's hand grabbed his wrist, pulling Steve closer to him. He stood on his tiptoes, bringing their lips together.

Steve took Tony by his hips and let Tony cup his face, going deeper into the kiss.

“We’re ok, aren’t we” Steve asked, opening the little door and walking out.

“More than ok” Tony replied, taking Steve’s hand and making their way down the corridor.

#stony #stevetony #tonysteve #stevextony #tonyxsteve #steve x tony #tony x steve #no superpowers au #high school au #stony fic #stony fanfiction #snowed in #stony-trope-au-bingo

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anarmorofwords · 4 years ago

Note

I am convinsed Alastair really just decided to put down all his interest and now is rediscovering again

Like you can tell me this boy who was nerding out about a moving film favorite book really is "the prince"

Political theory

Anyways Alastair rediscovering literature and getting to read what HE WANTS

Burn the prince

Althought @nott-the-best kindly suggested he destroy Charles political career becoming a communist

And i stan

AND YEAH IF ITS NOT INBOOK I'LL DO IT MYSELF

Oh absolutely that's what I think, too :'(

He wanted to mold himself into the most respectable and boring (aka uncontroversial) person possible, I don't trust a word about his likes and interests from the Academy moments

YES PLEASE I WANNA SEE HIM READ AND TALK ABOUT THINGS HE GENUINELY LIKES

did you read RWRB this reminds me of RWRB in a way

and whjagha absolutely, burn the Prince, I needed it bad, so he did that in my fic, let's say it counts

Oh hell yeah I would love to see him destroying Charles, especially that Charles gives me strong far-right vibes ("I wanna make our people strong again", no empathy etc...) so like Fair, please do

OK THAT'S GOOD, NOW I CAN BE AT PEACE KNOWING IT'LL COME EITHER WAY

#zia ask #zia you'll be the death of me #< because i like this tag and also your ask prompted a whole ass diacussion and i almost freaked out so it counts #mutuals!#the last hours #tlh #alastair carstairs #matthew fairchild

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bellasweetwriting · 4 years ago

Text

College Lecture

Spencer Reid x f.reader

(gif doesn’t belong to me)

masterlist

plot: Spencer reveals his crush for you drunk

warnings: drinking, most fluff

important: mostly told by spencer’s pov

word count: idk

—• • •—

Dr. Reid was grabbing his bag as he stood up from his desk. He had finished quickly his paperwork from his last case and he was looking forward to leave quickly the office, which made his coworkers curious as to why he was in such a hurry.

"Pretty boy!" Exclaimed Derek Morgan as he sat down on top of Spencer’s desk, looking at the doctor. "Where are you going so fast? Is there a discount on dictionaries?"

"Ha, I got that joke," said Spencer not even in a sarcastic tone, he had his mind in another world to even come up with a good comeback for Morgan. "I... Uhm... there’s a... there’s a thing that I need to go to."

"What thing?" Asked Morgan again, catching the other BAU members’ attention by his curiosity.

"Uhm... a college... a college lecture."

"A college lecture," repeated Derek in a slow tone, making JJ chuckle. "And what is this college lecture about?"

"Feminism in 19th Century Literature." That surprised everyone agent in the office at the moment. "And I’m late so..."

Emily stopped Reid placing a hand on his chest, making it impossible for him to sprint out of the place.

"I’ll go with you," let him know Emily with a big smile.

"Me too," announced Garcia and Morgan weren’t slow and joined in too.

Spencer was getting more and more nervous, and his partners could easily tell. That’s why they wanted to go. He was hiding something about this lecture that he didn’t want anyone to know, and they were so curious to know what.

And as soon as they arrived at the auditorium, he could have an idea of what was getting all of Dr. Spencer Reid’s attention.

Because as soon as they arrived, his eyes couldn’t help but stare at you.

How you moved around through the little stage pointing out facts about the Brönte sisters with that big smile of yours. How your bright hair was being waved by the wind as you turn around. How your eyes shine with the light of the projector, revealing that look that made him feels things, strange things, good things.

He first came across you a few weeks ago when they had a case in Chicago. You were doing a lecture there and he was supposed to go ask a professor about something related to the murder, but your voice attracted him to you.

He sat there for hours just listening to your voice. For the first time in his young life, he was interested in the speaker rather than the subject of the speaking. He couldn’t focus on Jane Austen when you were the one talking about her.

"Thank you," you finished, receiving applause for the future English Majors and Spencer, who forgot that his coworkers were next to him and he just cheered you up.

"Ok, Doc," said Garcia, "that was interesting. Didn’t know you care so much about Pride and Prejudice."

"Huh? Oh yeah, it’s one... it’s one of my favorite... books," he continued to lie, and he was terrible doing it. "Ok, we can go now."

"Doctor Reid?" You called him as soon as he stood up from the chair. He stopped moving and stood there, nervously, as he closed his eyes. "Is that you?"

"I think they saw you, Reid," mumbled Hotch, making the team chuckle.

Spencer slowly turned around, smiling at you, not helping to blush a little.

You felt curious. He assisted in your last three lectures and you weren’t changing the material that much. You knew him since he introduced himself the first time you guys met, as he stumbled late to one of your speeches.

You talked to him for a few seconds after it ended. You were trying to initiate conversation while he was being evasive, not wanting to talk at all. He just told you his name and some random facts about contemporary literature and then left in a hurry. You were surprised and also confused to see him again, in a different state.

"Professor Y/L/N," he said. "So good to see you again."

The whole team followed Spencer as he walked downstairs towards the stage, where you stepped closer to where they were, with a confused yet sincere smile as the came closer.

"Good to see you, Doctor. Didn’t know that an FBI member would be so interested in Literature Feminism," you said with a small chuckle at the end. "These are your friends, I assume."

Spencer had completely forgotten about the presence of the team, who were collectively thinking that spending an hour of their time listening to you became worth it the minute they saw Spencer’s eyes as they stared at you.

"Yes... Professor, these are Morgan, Emily, JJ, Hotch, and Penelope... guys, this is Professor Y/N Y/L/N. She’s a Yale alumna in Literature, a writer, and gives lectures in colleges around the country."

He was talking so fast he didn’t realize he gave up most of your curriculum, but you didn’t mind. Most people would find it creepy, but you find it just curious, you found everything about Spencer Reid curious. His actions, how he repeated words since for him it was difficult to put into sentences every thought that was constantly in his mind. He worked fast, he was constantly thinking, analyzing.

"Thanks for the info, Spencer. We catch bad guys," said Penelope and you chuckled, making Spencer smile.

You’ve only spoked a few times with him after the lectures he assisted and every time he surprised you more and more with his intellectuality and his capability to memorize everything.

"How long are you staying in Virginia, Professor?" Question Agent Morgan and Spencer felt curious too.

"Until the day after tomorrow. I’m giving a lecture about Hemingway tomorrow afternoon, why?"

"Oh, well, because Spencer thought that it would be a brilliant idea to invite you to the bar for some drinks." Spencer opened his eyes abruptly.

"I did what—" Morgan stepped on his foot. "Ouch! Yes! I did! Yes!" Spencer exclaimed in pain, making you smile confused. “Yes, Uhm... sure, you should... you should come with us for... drinks, yep."

You smiled. "I’d love too,” you whispered. "I’ll go grab my purse and I’ll be right back." You left after giving Spencer a soft look, walking quickly to get your bag.

As soon as you left, Spencer immediately turned around to face Morgan who was just laughing, such as the rest of the team.

"Why would you do that!?" Exclaimed the doctor. "I was going to ask her out."

"When?" Questioned Derek with a dumb smile, still making fun of Spencer’s actions around you and how nervous he was.

"Eventually," he replied, not proud of his response. "Did I act too bizarre?"

"Other than the fact that you told us by memory her entire biography, I would say pretty normal," mocked JJ making him sigh. "It’s okay, Spence. I promise you that she didn't even notice.”

"Are you sure, JJ?" Questioned the Doctor as he tried to hide his nervousness. The idea of going out with you, of dating you, not only terrified him but also made him doubt his own abilities. Was he good enough for you? Was he smart enough for you?

"No, I'm lying. She definitely noticed, " she mocked before pressing her lips together, regretting it. "I'm sorry, I should have said that."

"No, no, don't worry, I'm just... Not for jokes right now JJ, " he whispered. "There she comes, " he said to himself as you came back with your purse and a shy smile in your face, which was directed to him. "Hi! Again... Hi again, " he greeted, awkwardly, making you giggle.

"Hi again, Spencer. Shall we?"

— • • • —

You were sitting on the counter by yourself waiting for the drinks, while the rest of the group was at the table. All the BAU members were insisting on Reid to stand up and walk towards you, but he was too nervous to do so. He decided to just look at you as he played with his glass with ice claiming to be refilled with an alcoholic drink. He was just glancing at you, admiring your charm.

He had a huge crush on you and it was hard for him to confess it. His friends were teasing him about it and he was annoyed by that, but deep down he recognized that it was true. That he liked you. He wanted you.

"Ok!" You yelled excitedly as you arrived at the table with the drinks that everyone ordered. "Hotch, your whiskey on the rocks, boring." Everyone laughed. "And for the rest, I got us... tequila!" You chuckle while everyone cheered, minus Spencer, who was too focused on you to even be excited about the break from work and the hanging out with his friends. "Here you go, Doc."

"Oh, I don't want, " he replied as you sat next to him, making him tremble by the quick touch of your leg against the fabric of his pants.

"What!? Why not!?" You exclaimed as you put a strand of your hair behind your ear and drank the first shot. "Come on!"

"Yeah, Pretty Boy, " intervened Derek after drinking, making Spencer stare at him. "Probably, it'll help you loosen up a bit, don't you think?"

You looked at him with a sincere smile, and he couldn't resist. He couldn't resist you. The way you made him feel was... different, unusual for a guy like him. He has never felt it before.

And after a few drink, he finally could loosen go as Morgan said, and started telling you exactly how he felt.

"Did you know..." he began, grabbing your attention, "I assisted way more of your lectures than you think I did? I only said hi in like three of the ten I assisted. I didn't know there was so much to talk about Emily Dickinson."

"I believe that's enough shots for the Doctor, " pointed Garcia making everyone giggle, but Spencer didn't even notice, he was busy with admiring you.

"Did you know there weren't blue M&Ms till the 90s? What kind of M&Ms did 80s people eat? The yellow ones? Losers." You laughed. He was so drunk and you found it hilarious. "I like your laugh."

"Well thank you, " you replied. "And I will agree with Garcia: you’ve had enough alcohol for today."

"You don't have to take care of me!" He exclaimed. "Actually, my brain works even faster when I'm under the influence of alcohol and that's why... I can't even put into words all of my thoughts! If you looked into my brain right now, you’d see a complete mess! There should be a machine that lets you see into someone else’s brain! Did I just invent a Nobel Prize Award invention?"

"Ok, drunk Reid is killing my mood, " mentioned Emily. "I think it's time to go home, we have work early in the morning."

You nodded, drinking the last sip from your glass and standing up. Everyone stood up too, chuckling by the state of the other, smiling for the great time they’ve just spent with each other.

Reid was the last to stand up. He struggled to maintain balance while Hotch helped him to get up. He looked at you with a little smile while you grabbed your purse and crossed it over your chest.

"You know... Y/N." You raised your eyebrows when he mentioned your name. "We should date."

You hadn't even reacted when Morgan and Emily intervened quickly, dragging Spencer away from you.

"That's enough, Reid, " said Morgan. "Nice meeting you, Y/N. Let's go, Doc."

"Call me!" He yelled. "I like you!" And that's the last thing you heard from him before Morgan finally got him out of the bar. You simply laughed.

— • • • —

Spencer Reid arrived at his office with the worst headache in the world. He quickly prepared a strong coffee and drank it all as he walked towards his desk, falling to the chair and closing his eyes.

"How's your head, Spence?" Asked JJ and he just groaned. "That bad, huh?"

"I just want to die, " he said with a deep voice.

"Reid..." Hotch called him as he walked by. "The Professor is here."

That words made Spencer open his eyes widely, looking towards the entrance where you were standing, glancing towards him with a tiny smile.

As soon as you saw his reaction, you doubted coming there. What if he didn't want to see you? You went there by an impulse. What he said the previous night didn't let you sleep and you wanted to clear everything out. His voice wouldn't stop repeating in your mind, repeating those words every five seconds. You needed to see him.

"Oh, God..." Spencer mumbled to himself as he stood up. "What's she doing here? What did I say yesterday?"

"You may have confessed your crush on her, " answered JJ, making Spencer panic. "Go!"

He nodded before walking slowly towards you, with a nervous smile on his face as he came closer. You noticed how strange he was acting and you tried smiling at him to calm him a little, but that just seemed to make him even more nervous.

"Professor Y/L/N, " he greeted you. "How can I help you?"

"I just needed to clear some things out and—"

"I'm sorry if yesterday I said some things that made you uncomfortable. I don't even remember what I said and I just hope that we can move past that."

"Oh... oh, yeah... Uhm... ok, " you stuttered. "I just thought—"

"What?" He asked curiously.

You breathed in.

"Why did you attend all of my lectures, Spencer?"

That question took him by surprise.

"I don't know, " he admitted. "I just... liked how you talked so excited about literature. Your voice tends to increase a tone when you arrive at the Jane Austen material and it's clear she's your favorite author. Your shoulders relax when you notice someone in the audience taking notes because now you know they are paying attention and are interested in the subject such as you. Your voice gets slower as you reach the end of your speech because you don't want it to end, you love it, you love teaching other people and showing your passion to everyone. You love every second of it."

You nodded.

"Why?" He questioned.

"Just wanted to make sure you weren't a literature maniac and the only thing you cared about was what I was talking about."

"No, I'm not as passionate about literature as you are." You gave him a little smile. "Would you like to go out sometime?"

"Yeah... I'd love to go out with you, Spencer."

"Great..."

"Great."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #reid #criminal minds #y/n #pov #fanfiction #reid x reider #spencer reid x y/n

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leonawriter · 4 years ago

Text

My Personal Takes on Stormbringer:

Without a full and accurate translation to go through in one sitting, it’s still hard to get a handle on things properly. That said, thank you to everyone who’s working on it.

Now.

(please note all quotes are my memory of translations I have read, and are not verbatim.)

-Asagiri, please, you do not need to make so many coding analogies with regards to Chuuya and Verlaine. They don’t work.

-It often feels - not just in this book but also in 55 Minutes, where there are tight restrictions on a time travel ability - that Asagiri limits abilities based on how scientifically accurate they are. However, this doesn’t make sense! why should it! Literature should be an expression of freedom. There should be rules - the same way the Page has rules - but in the sense of Magic A is Magic A. You make up the rules and then you don’t break them in future. Why have Kunikida able to create something with a mass heavier than a piece of paper out of a page of his notebook, but then say you can’t do [x/y/z] because it’s scientifically unviable?

-I have no issue with how skk treat each other. they are chaos teens. let them be. like... this is the beginning of their actual trust. they’re also in the mafia, and in a dark time in their lives. it’s fine. (it isn’t, but at the same time, it kinda is.)

-I feel like Chuuya taking things from other people and making that thing “his” fits him as a character? he had nothing before, so when you have nothing, all you have is what people give you. If someone gives him a bike, then that bike is his now. He has to learn to look after it, love it, and respect it, and he’ll remember that friend by it. Same goes for pretty much anything else. Also, it’s a show of how well Chuuya adapts to things, and what things he chooses to pick up.

-The hat. I do not like how the hat was treated. Making it into the key that helps Chuuya be able to activate Corruption cheapens the meaning and weight of having been given the hat as a memento of the first person who told him to live as a human being. Why not have the hat be a reminder of his humanity in a purely sentimental way? I’m going to ignore anything canon about this and just say it’s sentimental. Which, like, it could have been a safety blanket type thing, not pseudo-science.

-The coding in Chuuya’s body is a bit... of a reach? How do you put that in there? I don’t get it. Just say that there’s a possibility he might die if he uses Corruption, or that he’ll never become “Chuuya” again. That he’d lose himself utterly. The log history can be either on a chip (insert Dazai making “lost dog, if found return to the mafia” jokes here) or on something else that could easily be destroyed during the course of the story (or not).

-Dazai living in the shipping container reads to me like an extreme version of “I do not want to be found I do not want to be helped I am worthless trash and what’s the point in having an actual home if I plan on dying any day anyway.” Verlaine asks what drove him there, and Dazai says “you” and tbh that offers up so many questions (like, was the shipping container thing recent, was it temporary, or what). There’s the possibility that Dazai doesn’t always live there, because otherwise he’d suffer from hypothermia and get pneumonia in the winter! But above all, Mori had nothing to do with this. He was probably terrified to go too close in case he got killed. Stop saying Dazai lives here because “poor baby was abused :(” that sure was not it.

-Dazai goes all this way - plotting for ages, since before the beginning of the book, having been number one on Verlaine’s hit list, just to get the truth about Chuuya’s humanity and to preserve it - because “I want to see Chuuya suffer as a human being” is him saying he doesn’t want to see Chuuya become like him, or inhuman, because that’s not Chuuya. (dude, there ain’t a straight explanation for this...)

-following on from the previous, Dazai refusing to just let things be the moment he realises that it’d mean double suiciding with Chuuya. I personally see that as a shippy moment because Dazai had already given up on Chuuya being alive (if I read the translation right) and in that case, dying would just be letting go. But Mori says “yeah but I don’t think he’s dead yet?” and that, along with the “double suicide” thing, makes Dazai go “absolutely NOT.”

OK a related thing - as far as I remember, when IRL Dazai attempted double suicide, right up until his actual death it would result in either a failure or... his partner dying and him surviving. The cold potential of this happening in BSD if Dazai had just given up reminded me of that.

-Regardless of my thoughts on how it was handled, Stormbringer reinforced my previous ideas about how Chuuya basically IS Arahabaki. It also suggests that Arahabaki was more of a sentient ability than a true “god” but... that’s fine. For me, all I cared about was that all those “Arahabaki is an evil being that is constantly trying to take over Chuuya and Corruption is Arahabaki being let out” takes are not true. It’s... basically Chuuya taking the lid off his power. I joked at one point that Corruption is Chuuya going “I’m so pissed off I’m gonna kick the door open and throw away the key” and Dazai going “go for it babe, I got your key.”

-Rimbaud and Verlaine are... very complicated characters? They’re not easy to get a handle on. I sometimes find myself liking them and sometimes find myself disliking them, and that’s something that’ll be easier when I have a full translation available - and one of Fifteen. Rimbaud was held back by seeing Chuuya, at first, as nothing more than an empty vessel to Arahabaki’s power, while Verlaine was so taken over by grief without understanding how to handle that, that he became a monster up until the end of the story. Neither of them were good people. That said, their relationship to each other? It’s very complicated and reminds me of their IRL selves to a point but without the skeevy nature and without it going so far, so kudos to that.

-Adam. Knowing his creator was a ten year old girl makes so much sense when you look at the things he says and does. He doesn’t get so much. He’s very logical, but doesn’t understand that a game of billiards isn't as much of an icebreaker as he thinks it should be. Surprised by bubble gum. Games like “strange things humans do” are very much like the word games kids play in the car.

-Verlaine being the fifth executive was something I did not predict at all, whatsoever, and I can’t stop thinking about it. Like... how did he get to that point. Only so much can be said in a few paragraphs (it seems) of “this is [x] number of years in the future where Chuuya’s an executive now.”

The last we see of him, he’s overcome by grief, hatless, and he seems to have only just realised how much he wished he could return what Rimbaud gave to him. (Ironically, by being able to grieve like that, it shows that he is capable of what he thinks he can’t do - same as Dazai.)

But how does he become an executive? Do they come to him slowly at first, and they gradually build up trust? Does he stay in contact with Chuuya? Do they see each other properly as brothers now, or not? I can’t help but feel that as it’s a long time - six years, in fact - between Stormbringer and canon, some bond of trust must have been built. The mafia protects Verlaine from the authorities and from the outside world just the same as Kouyou says that she wants to do for Kyouka, and the same as they’re there for Chuuya, too. So. A Verlaine who trains the mafia’s best assassins not because he’s forced into it, but because he feels the same loneliness as Chuuya, and finds that it helps? A Verlaine who learns slowly that he can care about more people than just Rimbaud and Chuuya? Holy shit yes please. A Verlaine who is loyal and protective and who you should be glad is in a (probably) gilded prison of the mafia’s basement, because otherwise he would actually do so many things to those who would harm his family.

Let’s just say - if I think of Arahabaki as a guardian or protector god who is just plain destructive because it can’t help that, then Chuuya and Verlaine looking and acting in similar ways because they share that same “parent” in a sense, makes sense. They are no longer just Arahabaki, they’re “Chuuya” and “Verlaine” - but they also share traits such as “Papa Wolf” and “lonely” and “violent,” among others.

-At least twice, pre-Soukoku Dazai and Chuuya refer to how they’re constantly thinking of each other. No, they don’t mean in positive ways, but they’re chaos teens and it’s still strong emotion. Chuuya mentions how he’s thought of at least 190 ways to punish Dazai for the things that he does (which also implies how their relationship is equal, and Dazai doesn’t call all the shots, and doesn��t get away with everything scot-free), and Dazai says that Verlaine can’t possibly win against him, because Dazai “spends all of his time, waking and sleeping, thinking of ways to annoy and harass Chuuya,” (quote not perfect.)

We also have Chuuya having Dazai appear to him first in his hallucinations, which I see as Chuuya’s inner Dazai-voice saying all the worst things, and ironically not actually saying or meaning things that would get across what real Dazai would want him to feel; in other words, that’s Chuuya’s view of him, or his mind searching for the one person he’d believe it to realistically come from.

As well, Dazai saying “there’s no way Chuuya could be an artificially constructed personality, because no one could create a personality that I [hate/that annoys me] so much.” Which, like... sure... you tell yourself that, kid...

Basically, they’re all the kinds of things that teenagers who don’t really get how strong feelings like these work yet, who are still figuring themselves (and their orientations, probably) out, would say if they don’t even like that other person that much, but they’re still attracted to them. A strong “why does it have to be THEM?” haha. And yet, as others have pointed out, Chuuya seems more on the oblivious side than Dazai, since as said, Dazai goes to all this effort and seems fond (but only when Chuuya’s not looking, dumbass) but Chuuya just... doesn’t get it.

A shorter summary of my thoughts and feelings?

Chuuya suffers, but is ultimately happier for it no matter whether he’s one of the clones or whether he’s the original (it’s arguable either way, and I don’t mind either way) as he’s still Chuuya. His bond with the mafia is also stronger than so many people think it is. They’re literally his adopted family. Even if he chose to leave, he’d still see them as family. I can’t see him leaving. He’s just... they’re family... don’t tear them apart...

The skk is strong, no matter what people say, because this is the start and it’s the end of their first year in the mafia and it’s not supposed to be a healthy time, for fuck’s sake. They’re both all sorts of messed up. They’re allowed to be. This is a time when that’s kinda the point of the book. But yeah, the trust and the bond is real.

Verlaine. I am now fascinated by Verlaine. I was so sure before the spoilers and translations came out that I’d hate him. I no longer do. He confuses me but I NEED TO KNOW MORE.

#bsd #Stormbringer spoilers #bsd spoilers #all opinions are the OP's #you don't have to agree but they are mine #facts are just facts tho #and this got long whoops #may add more if I remember more later

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