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#PEOPLE JUST WANT TO READ MORE ABOUT THEIR FAVOURITE CHARACTERS GOD IT'S NOT THAT DEEP
IF I SEE ANOTHER THINK PIECE ABOUT HOW EVERYONE FOCUSES ON THE ROMANCE OF THE HUNGER GAMES WHEN IT'S ABOUT SO MUCH MORE AND THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT THE BOOKS ARE ABOUT AND HOW EVERYONE'S MISSING SUZANNE COLLINS' MAIN POINT- IM GOING TO BLOW UP EVERYONE.
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winterarmyy · 9 months
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Must Be Fate
Prequel to And You're Mine. This is the story of how Y/N first met her cute, chubby alpha!bucky.
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Summary: Y/N has been crossing paths with this particularly sweet alpha all day long; this must be fate right?
Note: There was a mention of this event in 《 And You're Mine 》 so, it's only canon for me to write it.
Pairing: chubby alpha!bucky x omega!female!reader
Words: 4.2k++
Warnings: a/b/o dynamics. fluffy stuff. sort of fated mate themed because... love at first scent(?). instant love. the reader was just smitten without even knowing bucky's name, alpine making her appearance, 99.9% reader's pov because she's the one who fell in love and remembers him. Dialogue? almost little to none (I AM SO SORRY FOR THAT). And I little shout out to one of my favourite book.
P/S: Been busy these few days, i just graduated my bachelor's degree, then went through the whole job hunting process and somehow managed to land an offer (in another state btw), then went on a stressful house hunting journey and managed to get decent place. Yknow, all those "adulting" stuff (that i am not ready to face). But yeah, here's a little something from my wip that I managed to finish. Happy reading! 🤍
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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Y/N herself might not notice it, but she had been stealing glances through the pretense of the book she was supposed to be reading for quite some time now. Not that she wanted to be distracted anyway; she was rather enjoying her current read, especially the banter between main characters, Liesel and Rudy.
Yet for some reason, she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the particular alpha sitting on the park bench, right across from her.
It seemed that the man was also distracted with his own personal dilemma as his thoughts were lost within the arrangement of peonies in his hand. There was this deep frown decorating his features yet his eyes translates a different type of emotion. More gloomy, more somber. And Y/N knew exactly why.
She never meant to follow Bucky around, in fact, she didn’t. It just happened that his paths were fated to intertwined with hers; and it all started that afternoon.
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The bus was packed full, albeit it was Saturday, but thankfully she managed to find herself a seat.
Since Y/N was getting closer to her heat, in about a week or so, and her scent blockers were nearly out. She just got back from a nearby clinic to restock and now she had a full day for herself.
The thing about her pre-heat condition is that she was fortunate to not experience the normally unpleasant symptoms like any omega would; she doesn't get irritated easily and she didn't have to go through those random aches and fever.
However, she had a particular symptom that differs from the other omega; which involve the irregular increase of her scent.
During pre-heat and all throughout the actual heat, Y/N’s scent tripled the amount of a normal omega in heat. And since, she refused to take suppressants, the doctor prescribed her with a high dosage of scent blockers instead; to mask her scent completely during pre-heat.
Besides her own scent thickens and heighten, her sense of smell was also affected. It will become so senstive that she can smell everything and everyone, all at the same time.
Unfortunately for her, there weren’t any medication to combat that issue and the only solution she could do was wearing a mask to lessen affect of other people’s scents. But of course, the mask can only do so much especially when she was in a tight confinement of a bus with – what feels like – 2000 people crammed into it.
Too many potent scents coming from every direction, that her head spun into nausea.
Sure, she might be a little bit exaggerating about the amount of people in the bus, but it felt awfully like it when the bus stopped in every bus stop in its route; she can physically feel the inertia of the force pushing her to lean forward.
Thank god, she was sitting down; she managed to hold on the seat in front of her for support. Often times she would whisper her apologies to the man sitting in front for the sudden push of her hand, And most times he only nodded without looking back.
But at one of those stops, unfortunately, the teenager standing next to her bumped his head right onto the metal pole. Poor thing quickly scurried out of the bus in pain and embarrassment.
The density of people became lesser at that stop, but not enough to empty any seat in the bus. Though it worked well for her that most of the strong scents were fading into a much more bearable capacity for her to endure.
While streams of people exited the bus, only one came aboard; a sweet old lady. The moment Y/N saw her, she was already thinking of giving up her seat, but the man sitting in front of her beat her to it as he swiftly stood on his feet and help the old lady to his seat.
The old lady gushed and thanked the man, dearly patted his cheeks like any grandmother would do to their grandchildren.
And in that brief moment of time, when he moved, Y/N picked up a particularly sweet scent trailing behind him and when he came back, it hits her like a train. At first, she can sense some sort of floral; roses and jasmine but with time the smoky sandalwood and spicy cinnamon seeped through. The combination of sweet and woody notes made such a warm and captivating scent.
She never knew an alpha can smell this good.
Her eyes fluttered close as the alluring scent flooded her brain, letting his scent creates the dreamy images of his fingers lacing between hers as they walk in the rain, or him cuddling her in the heat of the fireplace during the winter, or his body trapping her by the back as she takes his huge delicious kno—whoa.
That was way too vivid and a tad too far.
She was so enthralled by his scent that she forgot to even look at the man’s face. And a mistake it was for her to take a peek because he is absolutely gorgeous. The brown locks on his head was neat and clean that she just wanted to make a mess out of it. His eyes were pretty in steel-blue and his plush lips was simply a sin to look at.
Though some would argue about the lack of shape in his jawline, the same one that was hidden between his chin; she didn’t care at all, rather she was particularly fond of the softness on his chubby cheeks. Shaved so clean and smooth that she couldn't find a single razor cut on his skin.
They look so cute and kissable. She want to kiss his cheeks, his lips, and every part of his ridiculously handsome face. She wanted kiss him so badly.
And those intrusive thoughts made her almost missed her stop.
Y/N panicked when she scurried out of the bus that she didn't even thought to ask him for his name or number; anything.
But then again, she wasn't the type to be so bold in the first place; she knew wouldn't have the courage to even speak a word to him. His scent alone almost pushed her into a frenzy, so imagine if he would look at her with those beautiful eyes of his, smile at her, talk to her?
She'd simply die. She was sure of it.
So, with regrets Y/N walked towards the familiar road right into the local bookstore that she often visits. Thinking that this encounter would probably be forgotten by the end of the day.
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Then she spent hours in that shop trying to find the perfect book to put her out of the miserable reading slump she was currently in. While her eyes skim over the covers of the book in display, in the back of her head, Y/N was almost certain of how unlikely it was for her to see the alpha ever again.
Couple of turns later, her footsteps trailed back to the space in between the bookshelves next to the huge glass window of the store. Still glancing absentmindedly at the book covers particular on the historical fiction isle. She halted when she saw it, the book that people had been recommending to her, 'The Book Thief'.
After reading the summary behind the book, she felt drawn to it almost instantly. Thinking that maybe this would be the book that will replenish her interest of reading back to its utmost glory.
But when she lifted her head up, she froze yet again. This time, not because the sight of a book. But it was the silhouette of the alpha she saw in the bus. Instinctively, her feet step closer to the glass window, to have a better look at the man across the road.
The alpha had just exited the flower shop opposite from where she was standing, with a gorgeous bouquet of peonies in his hands. Now that she looked closely, his hands were covered with black leather gloves; it intrigued her and she wondered about the story behind it.
Y/N wasn't that dense; she could see it right away from the way he dressed, to the choice of gift he went for. She knew instantly that the alpha was probably going out on a date.
And that stung her a little bit. How nice it must be to be his date, his girl, his omega.
Funny of her to think so when she never really talked to the guy. Let alone know him well enough to decided whether he's a good alpha or not. But something about him felt right to her.
But, sometimes it'll be like that. Falling in love so strongly, so instantly. And there's nothing wrong with it, as long as you know how to protect yourself; your body, your heart.
When her gaze moved upwards to his face; and her heart almost escaped her body. It was so quick, so faint. But, she saw his smile. It wasn't for her but it was so pretty. Y/N felt like a bow just struck her chest and the cupid was trying to pull it back out.
She knew full well how she probably need to move on from this delusional crush of hers yet her eyes still longingly lingered at his moving figure, walking farther away from her sight.
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When she thought that would be the last time she saw him, she was utterly wrong. Now, it felt like devilish cupid was toying with her heart as their path crossed yet again, this time at a nearby cafe.
She didn't notice him at first, at least until she placed her orders and saw him sitting alone at the far corner of the cafe. He seemed to be waiting for his date; the flowers laid perfectly on the seat next to him.
In contrast of the few looks of his that she had witness before, the alpha's demeanour indicates anxiousness.
His heel keeps tapping the floor, causing his knees to jump up and down, as he fiddled with his phone. Occasionally, he would look at the time and put it down. Just to do the same thing over again only seconds later.
And that made her wondered if this was his first date with whomever the person he was supposed to be seeing. She knew those feelings all too well. It was only canon that he felt the jitters on his first date, she'd been there too.
When her drink was served, Y/N decided to stay awhile longer. She didn't know what she was expecting from this but she wanted to make sure he was okay. Or maybe she just wanted to see who was the lucky girl. So she found herself a seat, a little bit discrete yet enough to see him from where she sat.
Pulling out her new purchase, she decided to pass the time with some light reading, maybe getting herself comfortable with the world building in the book and get to know the main characters in the process. In between those moments, Y/N would peek above the book, particularly at the sight of that beautiful stranger from across the room.
Pages upon pages she drowned herself to the words of the author that she didn't notice how time flies passing the half an hour mark; and the cafe started to get more crowded and rowdier. Certainly, the amount of potent scents had were floating around her were slowly getting to her.
Y/N knew if she stayed a longer, she'd surely throw up whatever drink she just had. So, she decided to leave. But not before glancing at the alpha – who was still waiting for his date – for one last time, then she pulled the door open and walked away.
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Certainly, that was supposed to be the last time she see him right? Nope. The universe proved her wrong when the man found a seat on the bench opposite her. With the same bouquet of flowers in his hands.
And at this point, she thought that this must be fate. There's no other explanation than this.
When she lowered her book again, she saw a white feline rubbing its head on Bucky's legs. It was too far to hear its voice but considering the amount of time its mouth open, Y/N figured it was meowing at him.
Probably to get his attention, or just wanted to comfort the alpha because just from the look of it, she knew he was stood up by his date. And Y/N was unexpectedly mad about it; maybe it was from personal experience or maybe it was just because she couldn't accept the fact that this fine, gorgeous, sweet alpha was being stood up.
Y/N watched how Bucky put away the flowers and scooped the cat onto his lap. He squinted his eyes at the ball of fur and spoke something. She hadn't had a clue what he said but it was probably along the lines, "Are you lost, little one?" He scratched its chin and neck while trying to see if it has a collar.
After so long of seeing that deep grumpy-looking frown on his face, Bucky finally graced her with another smile when the cat tried to rub its nose on his cheeks. Its whiskers tickled his nose and had trigger a laugh out of him.
God, Y/N had never been so desperate to be a cat in her life. She wanted to be that cat; sitting on his lap like she owns that place, making him smile and laugh like that. She wanted nothing more that to do so; to please him in a way that would make her own heart full.
Her daydream was cut short though, when a heavy scent of cigarettes and rum invaded her space. In fact it was so thick and potent, but considering the lanky alpha was sitting right next to her it was inevitable.
Y/N didn't want to be rude; because if she just walk away to find a different spot to sit at, then it would seem rude to the man. Her heighten sense of smell was to be blamed, not the man who was simply sitting next to her, enjoying the park as much as everybody else does.
So, she stayed.
But in those few minutes that she stayed, she might have re-adjust her mask a few times, as if it would help to lessen the scent. But, she did it anyway. And that was all she did. Yet somehow, it managed to rub the alpha in a wrong way.
"Ya got a problem with my scent, beta?" He snarled, clearly he was drunk. And a drunk alpha in the middle of the day was never a good sign.
Though she was relieved to know that the scent blockers worked just fine. Otherwise, she might push the alpha into a rut if he got even a single whiff of her scent.
The alpha growled as she put some space between them instead of answering his question. "Are you even listening to me?! Answer me, you dumb bitch!" His aggressiveness went from zero to hundred real quick when he yanked her by the hand, pulling her closer towards him.
Y/N's book fell from the force of his strength and she yelped in pain and fear. Though she usually know how to put up a brave face and fight back, but the sudden change of his action and emotion didn't gave her time to prepare her; mentally, physically.
With her omega tendencies on default, her body coward to his force and her voice tremble, "L-let me go!" She tried to twist her hand to escape but his grasp only grew stronger.
He pulled her to stand up, "You think a beta like you can look down on me? You and that omega are the same! Bunch of good for thing bitches. Gonna teach you a good lesson for disrespecting an alpha like me!" He roared with words of his drunken concerns, truth of his wounded ego.
Her blood pumped faster through her veins and her breaths increases behind her mask. When she saw his hand rose, Y/N shut her eyes, whimpering in fear as she turned her head away, waiting for the pain strike her but it never happened.
It between those short heavy breaths, she caught a whiff of Bucky's scent. And surely, it gave her the comfort she needed to calm down, guiding her to open her eyes and witness her saviour stopping the unhinged alpha's strike.
Then what happend next was so fast; the way Bucky forced him to release her, and the way the left of his gloved hand wrapped around the alpha's neck, choking the air out of his wind pipe.
Bucky growled something in the alpha's ear, but Y/N couldn't hear it over her own beating heart. She didn't need to, not when the pale look of the man's face says it all. As soon as Bucky loosen his grip, the other alpha stumbled backwards and made a run for his life.
That does tend to happened when Bucky was literally threatened to tear his limbs apart if he touch the woman ever again.
When the panic didn't die like Y/N hoped for, Bucky quickly came to her side; respectfully close while avoiding any sort of skinship. He whispered words of comfort and sweet nothings, "It's okay, you're okay. You're safe now."
His voice was like magic, especially when it managed to calm her so easily. Y/N can feel herself melting, like a marshmallow hovering over the flames; like an ice cream under the summer sun. She took a deep breath of his sweet scent and exhaled a long sigh, "Thank you. Thank you for that." she said.
Bucky bent down to pick up her book and patted the dust off, "It's no big deal, here." He handed the book. She gladly took it from his hand, gripping it tight to her chest.
Her head was still fuzzy from the rush of adrenaline, she couldn't think of a single coherent thought other than gratitude towards her saviour, "Yeah, thank you." She probably didn't even notice that she was talking to the alpha she was crushing on the whole day.
Looking at her shaken state, Bucky was worried of her, "Are you going to be okay?" He asked.
Y/N's mind didn't process his question fast enough to for a confident reply to form, "Huh? Yeah, of course. I'll be fine. Couple of deep breaths should do the trick."
"Are you sure?" Bucky was sceptical but she quickly assured him, "Absolutely!"
He nodded slowly as if she failed to convince him, yet he didn't want to push her too much, "If you say so..."
She let out a another long sigh and said, "Thank you again, really. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Bucky simply chuckled at her words, "You know, you've said 'thank you' way too many times now, doll. Plus, it is an utmost honor of an alpha to save a damsel in distress." He jest.
Which was quickly agreed by a mewl coming from his chest, "Meow!" Y/N didn't even notice the white cat nestling comfortably in his leather jacket, albeit it was zipped up until only its' head peeking out of the dark fabric.
"See? She agrees." Bucky shrugged as if the cat's opinion was the only valid opinion in this situation.
"I did say it a lot, did I?" Y/N cooed as she pet the cat on its' head, smiling at the softness of its' fur against her skin before looking back at the blue eyes of his, "Sorry." She instinctively apologized. 
Bucky shook his head and reminded her, "Don't be."
That was when Bucky's phone rang, a call from Steve, "Hey, you're here? Where are you? Oh there. Yeah, I can see you, punk. You don't need wave at me like that. Yeah, I'll be right there. Please don't let Sam join you. God stop that is fucking embarrassing." He muttered as he looked over how his friends were literally halfway out of the car window, waving at him like a bunch of kids.
Bucky snuck his phone back into his pocket and said, "I'd offer you a ride but the car's full with dumbasses and I wouldn't recommend a sweet thing like you to associate with them in any way."
He managed to pull a short laugh out of her, "Oh, no need to do so. I live close by. Don't need to worry about me just..." her trails stopped mid way.
Only for Bucky to continue with a question, "...Just??"
"Do you mind giving those to me?" Y/N pointed at the flowers in his hand. She knew he was contemplating to throw it away because he had been glancing at the trash way too many times at the first couple of minutes when he sat on that bench across from her.
Y/N noticed how his expression changed, he looked confused but didn't frown upon the idea. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as she waited patiently for his respond. But he just continued to stare at her, almost blankly but not quite lost. It was as if he was mesmerized by something.
The silence was getting louder than the crowds surrounding them so she decided to explain, "You see, I've never received flowers from anybody before. So, I'm curious how it feels like to receive one." She tried to come up with excuses, though she was still telling the truth. No one she dated had ever gave her flower before, probably deeming it as old-fashioned.
But, she loves those old fashioned gesture the most.
Y/N saw how he hesitated when he stared at the bouquet, his face getting tense by the seconds. She recognize that expression, she knew right away he was holding back his feelings.
But it quickly shifted into a gentle smile, "Pretty flowers for the pretty lady." He whispered under his breath. Bucky didn't waste his time hesitating this time and handed the bouquet to her.
Though she was asking for it but she didn't expect him to really give it to her. This was the first time she ever got flowers from a man. An alpha that she was pretty much head over heels for nonetheless.
Letting her emotions unfiltered, "Thank you!" she squealed as she reach out her hand. As she brought the bouquet closer to her face, she pulled down her mask, inhaling the sweet fragrant of the soft pastel peonies.
Even if her lower face hidden behind the flowers, Bucky swore he saw a burst of sparkles beamed from her upon receiving those flowers. It fascinated him because he never knew that someone could be this happy just from getting such small gift, from a complete stranger he might add.
For a second there, he thought that he would've give her a whole garden of flowers just to see her shine like that again. It felt so good and somehow fulfilling to see her happy like this.
Y/N unknowingly smiled as she let herself lost in the intoxicating scent. And when her eyes fluttered open, a deep chuckle distracted her from the trance. Looking up, as he eyes peeking through the blooming flowers, she finally saw that endearing smile that she wanted to see.
But that wonderful fleeting moment didn't last long as she was hoping for when she heard a group of man shouting for the alpha, "Hey, loverboy! We have a birthday party to get to. Natasha would be pissed if we're late. Again!"
As Bucky shouted back his own sassy counter, Y/N's head was filled with thoughts of kissing him. She didn't particularly know why but she had the need to do it.
Why would she ever do this to a man – who probably currently thinking that she was a creep – that she barely knew?
Even with those unconscious questions, she found her body moved on its own.
When he turned around, Y/N was already on her tip toe, her face was so close to his, while her hand softly cupped his chubby cheeks. She pressed a tender kiss on one of the side soft sides and prayed to God that he couldn't hear how her heart was desprete to escape the confinement of her ribcage.
Y/N placed her mask back before pulling away, only to preen at how she managed to stun him into a red mess of shock, "Thank you for saving me, alpha." Her eyes curved as a sign of a smile before she turn around, almost running away.
She certainly didn't give him a chance to at least know her name, let alone get to know her.
Midway through her path, Y/N abruptly stopped and turned around, her eyes met his curious ones and her heart fluttered, "Thank you for the flowers! I love them!" she shouted with a wide smile on her lips and brightest expression of her face, even if it was blocked by the mask.
Though Bucky could probably translate her eagerness and sincerity from how animatedly joyful she was waving at him. He smiled as he watched the girl ran away with her small steps, almost resembling a hopping bunny.
As Y/N skipped her way home, her lips aches for more of the alpha's softness, her heart yearned for his comforting presense and her glands certainly burned for his mark. And even though she went home not knowing his name, or his contact number. She believed that if he was truly her fated mate, then they will surely meet again someday.
End.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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A/N: Thank you for loving this couple as much as I do, guys. I noticed a lot of you have been requesting chubby alpha!bucky ever since I first published the first one. So I hope you enjoyed this one. More to come from them. But meanwhile, drop your thoughts?
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sadprose-auroras · 8 months
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hiiii i was wondering if i could make a request for a hazel x reader where reader is beaten up by someone not from fight club and hazel gets really protective and rounds up the rest of the club to retaliate
Hey, thank you for your request! Sorry it took a hot min, this one took on a life of its own. Not sure how I feel about it tbh, but please let me know what you think! xx
Content warning: targeted violence, themes of bullying, cursing
Word count: 3.7k
You were well aware that Jeff, star quarterback, most popular guy in school, widely celebrated asshole, completely had it in him to take his bullying way too far. You couldn’t ever forget the first time you saw him beat somebody to a pulp.
It was eighth grade, and you were an awkward, shy thing, just trying to navigate schoolwork and friendships. To put it simply, you were figuring out who you were and your place in the world. There were so many questions swirling around in your head. Why did you feel an immense swirling sensation in your tummy when your classmate, Hazel Callahan, would sit next to you in class when nobody else would? Was it normal to be so deeply enamoured by the clothes she wore, her hairstyle, her school supplies, so much so that you would try and emulate an outfit she’d worn, to beg your mom for a haircut like hers, to buy the same pencil case she had, just because she was the coolest person you knew? Reflecting back, of course, you had a crush on her, and didn’t know how to express it. But at the time, you thought you just really wanted to be her best friend and not leave her side for a moment.
At this awkward pre-pubescent stage, Jeff and all his football buddies seemed to be way older, more mature, and you were terrified of them. Jeff, especially. He had always been a bully, shoving kids out of his way in the school halls and calling people derogatory names. But he only seemed to be getting worse. And every time you passed him in the hallway, your heart was in your throat as you kept your head down and walked faster. Was this the time he was going to target you?
One day, you were in the schoolyard, sitting on a bench with Hazel chatting about a book that Hazel had lent to you. One that, to your surprise and deep excitement, included two of the girl characters sharing a kiss on the lips. Vampires, at that. You thought that was the coolest thing ever. You’d read that same passage over and over, enthralled at that even being a possibility. It had crossed your mind that you really wanted to kiss Hazel like that.
“So… did you like it?” she asked with an expectant smile. You nodded incessantly.
“Oh my god, it was AMAZING! The vampires were SO cool, Kali and Anna were my favourite characters by far! I wanna be a vampire,” you gushed, flushing a deep shade of red when Hazel giggled.
“Dude, I knew you’d say that!” she said. “You so don’t wish you were a vampire, you love the sun!” You laughed and shrugged. She was completely right.
“You know me well, Haze,” you laughed.
“Hey?” Hazel asked, chewing on the end of the straw on her juice box. She looked nervous.
“Hm?”
“I have to tell you something.” Your heart started going a million miles an hour.
“What is it?”
“Well-“ before she could finish, a commotion out of the corner of your eye caught both of your attentions. You whipped your head around to see a large group gathered around two people on the floor. It was Jeff, holding down a kid and punching him. Over. And over. And over. You quickly realised it was a boy in your English class, Thomas, who you’d never really talked to but was a shy nerd like you. He seemed nice; he had lent you a pencil once. To your horror, he didn’t even seem to be moving. And Jeff was cackling. Maniacally.
“Oh god, what do we do?” you asked frantically. “We should get a teacher, right?” Although there were a bunch of kids cheering him on, it didn’t feel right.
“Yeah, come on!” Hazel said, grabbing your hand and dragging you behind her as you rushed off together to find a teacher. You couldn’t tell if it was the handholding, or the life and death situation, that was giving you more adrenaline.
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Now that you were all seniors, you were only more terrified of Jeff. He had never targeted you, luckily, but you had witnessed his increasing violent nature towards many of your other classmates. As for Hazel, the vampire book situation all those years ago had been somewhat of an awakening for you; you were totally, completely in love with your best friend. You never, ever told her though, your fear of rejection outweighing anything else. The closest you got was telling her you liked girls when you were having a sleepover for your sixteenth birthday. There was something about sleepovers that made you feel like you could talk about things you usually weren’t brave enough to. To your delight, she told you the exact same thing moments later.
Shockingly, you and Hazel had finally branched out and spoke to people besides each other. Your other friends, PJ and Josie, made you a perfect little foursome. You had bonded over your respective codependent friendships. You first heard about the fight club when PJ and Josie told you and Hazel over lunch that they had created a self-defence club to sleep with cheerleaders.
“We’re teaching them how to defend themselves, next thing we know, Isabel and Brittany are kissing us on the mouths!” PJ addressed Josie, flailing her arms around.
“Can we join?” you asked, then realised how that sounded, laughing. “I mean-“
Hazel squinted at you from the sun, furrowing her brows in confusion. Your heart skipped a beat; her eyes particularly sparkled in the sunshine.  
“You want both of us” – she pointed back and forth between herself and you – “to join those two” – she gestured at PJ and Josie – “in kissing Brittany and Isabel!?”
“No, no,” you say quickly. “The club. Can we join the club?”
“Yeah, sure!” Josie said.
“I mean, I guess, except we don’t want the losers to outweigh everyone else. No offense,” PJ says, and you shrug, entirely not offended.
“You’re not wrong,” you chuckle. “We are decidedly losers.”
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Despite the murky intentions PJ and Josie had for starting the club, it began to take on a life of its own. The mismatched groups of girls really began to bond, and you found yourself emotionally fulfilled in a new way that you hadn’t really experienced before. Being able to talk about deep things with a group of girls you knew had your back, and vice versa, was life changing. You noticed a significant difference in how you felt at school. Before, you were on edge most of the time and relatively lonely in a lot of your classes. Now, you had people to sit with, to say ‘hi’ to in the hallways. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders that you didn’t know existed.
One evening after a particularly long club meeting, you were the last one to leave, packing up after everybody else had left. You were humming to yourself as you worked, the warm feeling you had inside from hanging out with your friends still lingering. It was ironic how beating each other up brought you so close. Once you finished, you left the gym, backpack slung over your shoulder and keys in hand as you walked into the carpark. You noticed a figure moving in your general direction out of the corner of your eye but didn’t think much of it; there were lots of people still around school, coming out of their extracurriculars. Just as you had unlocked your car, the footsteps neared, and you whipped around to be met with Jeff standing over you threateningly. You gulped.
“May I help you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even as not to show how terrified you were of him.
“Yeah, actually,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’ve had enough of your little girls group taking attention away from football. You’re all over the school, and it’s done. You’re all done.”
“I don’t know what you expect us to do,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” You shoved him away, going to get into your car. Before you could, he reached out and pushed the door closed.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, and your heart sank.
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The first place you thought to go after Jeff beating you up was Hazel’s house. You practically sped to get there, unable to stop the sobs wracking your body. As you pulled into her driveway, you let out a sigh of relief noticing that her mum’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Barely stopping to take off your seatbelt before rushing out of the car, you ran up to the door and rang the doorbell twice in a row. It didn’t take long for you to hear footsteps, and the door swung open to Hazel dressed in sweatpants and a cozy jumper. She murmured your name, eyes scanning your face with concern.
“What happened?”
Without speaking, you practically fell into her arms in a hug, only crying harder. She engulfed you with her arms, stroking your hair comfortingly.
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” she whispered, rubbing a hand up and down your back. You hiccupped, pulled away from the hug and wiped some tears from your eyes with your sleeve.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” You wordlessly took Hazel’s outstretched hand, following her to the bathroom. You hoisted yourself up onto the sink, swinging your legs. Hazel started collecting supplies: damp cloths, antiseptic, band aids, bruise ointment. As you watched her, face deep in concentration as she murmured to herself about what she needed, you felt a surge of love for her.
“Thank you,” you whispered, voice dripping with sincerity. She looked at you funnily as if to say, you don’t need to thank me, don’t be ridiculous.
“Okay, I’m just going to-“ she said gently, stepping between your legs and beginning to gently dab the blood off your face. As she worked, you watched her, suppressing tears at the realisation that you couldn’t feel any safer and protected with her by your side. God, you loved her. As she applied antiseptic, she shook her head in disbelief.
“Who did this to you?” she asked, visibly seething.
“Jeff,” you said quietly, lip quivering. Steam practically blew out of Hazel’s ears. Her movements ceased for a moment, and she pressed her lips tightly together.
“He deserves to die,” she said matter of factly.
“I don’t disagree,” you murmur.
“Hey?” you ask, making eye contact with her. You realise how truly close your faces are, and your heart rate increases rapidly. You let out a shuddering breath, trying to keep your composure.
“Can I stay here tonight, please?” you ask, desperately trying to suppress the urge to be embarrassed. You just really didn’t want to be alone.
“Of course. You don’t even have to ask, you know that.” Her voice was so gentle, you practically melted.
“Thanks, Haze,” you said, as she finished cleaning you up.
“All done,” she said, beginning to pack away everything. You hop off the bench, taking the painkillers and water she hands you gratefully.
“Thank you,” you say as you pop the tablets into your mouth and swallow them with a big gulp of water.
“Stop thanking me,” Hazel chuckled lightly. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” You followed her to her bedroom, suddenly feeling unusually nervous. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t slept in each other’s beds before. Sleepovers were a major part of your friendship when you were younger, and more recently were particularly convenient when you got a little too drunk to get home. Perhaps there was something about the added layer of vulnerability to your state that was making you feel shyer with your best friend. As you contemplated this, shuffling back and forth on your feet, Hazel retrieved a soft t-shirt and shorts for you to wear to bed. She threw them at you, and you caught them with a soft smile.
“Thanks, dude.” You moved into an alcove in the corner of her room, turning to face the wall as you heard Hazel shuffling around, presumably getting changed as well. You desperately fought the urge to turn around, unsure if the tension in the room you could feel just at the thought of you both getting changed at the same time was in your head. But you swore, you could feel it. You pulled Hazel’s shorts up, tying them at the waist and trying to ignore the fact that the t-shirt she had lent you smelt like her. Although it was difficult not to. You folded your clothes, placing them on a chair, then turned around to find Hazel in a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms and a white tank top, sitting on her bed scrolling on her phone.
“You look cute,” she remarked in an indecipherable tone, and you couldn’t entirely tell if she was joking or not. Since eighth grade, you’d definitely developed your own style apart from Hazel’s, and her clothes on you were not your style at all. You poked you tongue out at her, as you walked over and got under the covers, snuggling down. It was easier to fall back into your friendship as it had always been in those moments, where you were unsure if she was feeling the same way. Otherwise, you might have to actually confess your own feelings, which was completely terrifying.
Hazel followed your lead, placing her phone down on the nightstand and pushing the covers back so she could get in, pulling them up to her chin and turning over to face you. Your heart skipped a beat.
“Thank you for everything, Haze,” you said, shutting your eyes. If you looked into hers for a second longer you might actually explode.
“I’d do anything for you,” she whispered, so softly you could barely hear it. Before you knew it, you were drifting off.
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The next morning you awoke to sun pouring in the curtains, and you slowly opened your eyes, stretching your back and yawning. Despite the events of last night, you actually slept better than you had in weeks. The pain in your face had subsided a lot already. You rolled over to face Hazel’s side of the bed, heart sinking when you found it empty. Confused, you rolled back over and reached for your phone, touching the screen. Realisation flooded in. It was 9:00am on a Thursday. A text from Hazel was waiting for you, which she had sent half an hour earlier.
morning! i let you sleep, hope that’s okay. wasn’t sure if u were gonna go to school today. text me if you need anything <3
You smiled softly to yourself, eyes focused on the heart she sent a little longer than necessary. You quickly replied.
Thank youuuu, needed that sleep in. I think I will come to school, I’ll see you for second period probs xx
After hitting send, you got out of bed, making sure to make it neatly before deciding to go and quickly take a shower. After you stripped out of your clothes and waited for the water to warm up, you took a moment to examine your face in the mirror. It felt significantly better than last night, as if Hazel’s touch was magic. The bruising around your eyes was starting to come out, you had a small cut on your cheekbone, and the eye that you could barely open last night was much less swollen. You stepped into the shower, allowing the warm water to relax your muscles with a sigh.
Little did you know, as you were sleeping that morning, Hazel had called an emergency meeting of the fight club. She was on a mission, and absolutely nothing was going to stop her. All she kept seeing in her mind’s eye was your face when you showed up on her doorstep, beaten and bloody, sniffling, eyes brimming with tears. To see you like that, the person she loved more than anyone in the world, shattered her heart. She had to get revenge, and she needed some help.
“Are we all clear on the plan?” Hazel asked, looking around at the group. It felt strange for the whole club to be there with you missing; she certainly noticed your absent presence. Normally, you’d be next to her, sitting cross-legged, and tapping your fingers on your leg like you do, exchanging glances with Hazel when something funny happened. She basically ached at the thought.
“Let’s fucking do it!” PJ yelled, banging the handle of a broom on the ground. Everyone else cheered and clapped in agreement.
“Let’s kill him,” Isabel said, narrowing her eyes with determination. She had her own reasons to want to do this.
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By the time you pulled into the carpark at school, the bell was just ringing, indicating the end of the first period. You weren’t going to lie, you were nervous about running into Jeff, but you prayed that there were enough people around during the actual school day that he couldn’t get you again. Just as you stepped out of your car, you heard a commotion coming from behind you. You frowned, swinging your backpack over your shoulder to follow the noise of people shouting.  Rounding the corner to the other side of the carpark, your hand flew to your mouth. You couldn’t believe your eyes.
Hazel, along with all your friends from fight club, were stood over a football-uniform clad guy on the ground, who you couldn’t see from your angle. As other students had gathered around to watch, whooping and cheering, your friends were taking turns to punch, kick, stomp on, and slap the guy on the ground.
“THAT’S FOR CHEATING ON ME WITH MY SISTER!” Isabel cried out, kicking hard. That’s when it dawned on you; the guy on the ground, who was barely moving, unable to get out of the girls’ grips, was Jeff.
“THAT’S FOR Y/N!” Hazel yelled, in a voice you had never heard her use before, swinging both of her fists down hard on Jeff’s face multiple times. You approached the group, pushing past the onlooking crowd. You couldn’t believe how many people were supporting this. The way Jeff was thoroughly worshipped in school was obscene. Perhaps everybody was just waiting for someone to get back at him first. You approached your friends, taking a deep breath to yourself. They all turned to look at you as Josie was kicking Jeff in the head blood dripping from his mouth. Isabel was watching on proudly. You placed your hand on Hazel’s shoulder, and she spun around.
“Hey,” you murmured, smiling softly.
“I-uh-“ she began, as if she was about to explain herself, then you shook your head.
“Can I get in on this?” you asked, and she visibly relaxed, grinning.
“You’re not mad?”
“Fuck, no! You’re so brave for doing this, to be the first to give him what he deserves.” With that, you turned your attention to the guy lying on the ground, smiling at the sight of him groaning, bleeding, looking like absolute death.
“Hey, remember me?” you asked, before bringing your fist down on his face. Hard. And then again. And then again. And once more. Your friends, as well as the crowd watching on, cheered you on. The last punch you threw caused Jeff’s head to fall to the side as he passed out. You stood up proudly, looking around at your friends.
“I love you guys,” you grinned, and you all engulfed each other in a big group hug, all congratulating each other and saying how much you all loved each other. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Hazel’s hand resting on the small of your back. You all pulled away, and as everybody fell into chatter you grabbed Hazel’s hand and pulled her with you away from the crowd.
“Where are we going?” she asked with a laugh, awkwardly trailing behind you in a half jog, half walk.
“Here,” you said breathlessly, stopping when you rounded a corner to a quiet spot.
“Thank you for protecting me.” Your voice was still breathless, your head spinning with anticipation. It was now or never. Before Hazel could respond, you leant against the brick wall of the building behind you, pulling her toward you by her waist. She cupped your face, and your lips met. Desire pooled in your stomach as your lips slotted together perfectly, moving together in sync. Her lips were way softer than they looked, and you had spent a lot of time looking at them.
Hazel pulled away slightly, and you instinctively chased her lips. She smirked, eyes scanning your face. You flushed deeply.
“Oh my god,” she said in that voice that made you want to melt into the floor, and you laughed in disbelief.
“I know,” you whispered before kissing the corner of her mouth. She smiled at this, pushing a strand of your hair out of your eyes. If it was anybody else, you would feel insecure about your swollen eye and bruised face, you would worry that you weren’t attractive, but it didn’t cross your mind once with Hazel. She made you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.
“I didn’t know-“ you both started to say at the same time, then giggled. You were literally giddy.
“You go,” you said.
“I didn’t know you liked me.”
“I didn’t know you liked me,” you replied, laughing.
“Do you remember-“ Hazel started, then cleared her throat. “Do you remember that book I lent you in eighth grade about those gay vampires?”
“That was literally my gay awakening,” you said with a laugh, unable to believe that she remembered that. “Wait, what does that-“
“I’ve been in love with you since then,” Hazel suddenly said, and your heart caught in your throat. You pulled Hazel even closer to you by her belt loops, and she gasped. You kissed her more passionately this time, your head spinning.
“I’m in love with you too,” you murmured when you pulled away, foreheads resting together.
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hotluncheddie · 2 months
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omg I didn't realize you wanted chubby steddie asks 🙈
as much as we love the babygirlification of Steve Harrington..... I'm obsessed with boyish manly Steve who is chubby and Eddie is obsessed with him!!!! I'm thinking about your one fic with the sweaty tank top!!!!! do you have more thoughts on this??
yesssssss!!! anon yes yesssssssss!!!!!
not me being like 'yeah! sweaty task top fic nice nice' then realising i have like three different posts that have Steve in a sweaty tank top lol
thankfully @scoops-aboy86 came in clutch with a new tank top sciario <3 (and held my hand thru writing the end lmao ty pal)
but i just love an ex jock trope, i love bulk under muscle and i think big beefy hairy guys are hot - and Steve harrington deserves to be all of that, and more
and also, importantly, eddie munson deserves to have all of that too, in and around him, all the time, in the form of Steve Harrington.
-
Eddie had come to accept the wealth of things he could be into, the actual buffet of people and scenarios that could get his dick hard. He's had more than his fair share of knuckle biting orgasms over the ex chief of police Jim Hopper. Before and, maybe worse, after getting to know him.
So he knew what it was to have something of a shame wank. To enjoy a moustache or two and a paunch at a middle.
But nothing, no deep seated daddy issues or fantasy of being held down, could ever prepare him for Steve Harrington.
Post upside down, post eventual college and transition to work. Post two bed apartment with Robin, then two bed apartment with Robin and Eddie. Then actual full blow house with Eddie, and more often than not weekend guest Robin. Dating Steve for as long as has was one thing, loving Steve with everything he had was another, and being loved by Steve was something he still had nights of panic about - silent tears as fear and self doubt gripped his throat, nightmares about it all being an elaborate prank that sneak their way in even with Steves arms wrapped tight around his middle.
but Eddie had him.
Was allowed to love him, and worship Steve for all that he was worth. It was wonderful. Eddie knew that.
But it had its challenges. Nothing past Eddie could've done would help current Eddie for what he was in for.
Like how Steve had bulked up over the years, settled and filled out in a way that made those visions of Hopper, and guys from bars he really shouldn't have been at, all come surging back.
Steve was thick, and strong and still so achingly beautiful. Boyish in his actions at times but also protective and capable in a way that made Eddie swoon. Honest to god. Made him feel like a main character in one of those bodice ripper books he had seen (taken out and read) at the library.
And then Steve made it worse.
So so so much worse.
Because Steve went and got a tattoo.
Well, another tattoo. He added roses to go along with the robin and branch on his arm, adding to its greenery with red petals and thorns that Eddie knew were secretly for him. He’d said, offhandedly, that they were his favourite and he knows, because he knows Steve, that thats something he'd listen to and remember.
He’s a die hard romantic.
And now Eddie is going to die, hard.
Soon, if Steve doesn't put a proper fucking shirt on.
Steves been wearing his stupid, old, cropped, white tank top since the appointment. He's "letting the tattoo breathe", "doesn't like the feeling of the healing skin against the fabric", "wants to do it properly". "hates Eddie and wants him to die of hard dick, big-fat-ball disease."
He glares at Steve from the other end of the couch, and maybe only three of those things are something Steve's actually said, but, he thought them. All of them. Must have.
Because Steve's tank is so old it's nearly see through, the peak of his pink nipple evident and distracting. The cropped end keeps rolling up and exposing his wider bellybutton and soft sides. And, as always, with any tank top, with any tank top on Steve, hit tits are there - hairy and lovely and out.
'Steve, please.' Eddie whines, he doesn't think he can take much more.
Steve just raises his eyebrows, taking a swig of beer and not looking away from the tv. 'If I sweat too much, it'll mess with the healing.' He says.
Eddie just crosses his arms, sinks lower into the couch. ‘Can you put on a normal shirt at least? For my sanity, for that alone, please?' Not wanting to sound desperate, but he is desperate.
Steve sighs, muting the TV. 'C'mere.' He holds his arms out and Eddie crawls into his lap. Still sulking, arms still crossed. ‘Eddie, you’re the one who gave me the tattoo. I’m following your instructions.’ Steve says gently.
‘M’firing Robin for getting you to sign the info form.’ He grumbles.
Steve smiles at him, tucking some hair behind his ears. ‘You can’t fire her for doing her job baby.’
‘Maybe not’ Eddie sniffs. ‘But I’m not sharing my baby blue ink with her next time she gets one of her slutty little lady sailor pin ups booked in.’ He mumbles to himself.
Steve pulls Eddie in closer, hands on his waist as he leans in to whisper in Eddies ear. 'Aren't I being so good though? Following what you said, no strenuous activity for two days right?' His voice a little breathy, soft.
And that makes Eddie pause, makes his insides churn and his heart rate increase. 'Ye-yeah.' He rasps, eyes wide. 'So good Stevie.'
'So we have to wait until tomorrow, like you said, yeah?' Steve asks, eyes all big and sweet, lips in a little pouty.
Fuck. He's right. Eddie dug his own grave.
'Yeah.' He sighs. He can do it, for Steve.
Steve smiles sweetly at him, tapping Eddie on the ass and shifting him closer so Steve can unmute the tv and keep watching his game. 'Good boy.' Steve says, kissing Eddies temple.
…Wait. Eddie scrunches his eyebrows, half hard and confused.
But Steve just holds him closer. Eddie buries his head in Steve's neck, and whines.
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gyllenhaalstories · 20 days
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Hi Laurie! 💛
You know what's coming, hehe 👀
I saw this in another fandom and now I'm sending the same question to a bunch of Jake girlies (gn) because it’s so interesting seeing everybody’s answers!
Who are your Top 3 Jake boys and why? Is there a specific piece of art (fic, gif, fan art, etc.) for them that you like a lot?
hiiiiiiiiii!!! 💖 i do know what's coming teehee! i love his characters so much. even if the movie is not up my alley, his character always stands out. i'll watch everything he's in just because i'm obsessed (except spirit untamed, it is against my principle to support this horrible version of spirit the stallion of the cimarron) i just love them like they're just so neat i love them so much. OKAY TIME TO CHOOSE.
Elwood Dalton
i cannot believe that davis was dethroned as my forever ultimate favorite character but he was. dalton is so special to me. i've been obsessed with him since the very beginning when i was looping videos to get his full name and start writing for him immediately. so he's been living in my mind rent from for a LONG and i hope he never leaves. i lost count of how many times i've watched the movie (especially the scenes with laura!!!), it's so good. i'm already seated for the sequel idc what people say i want it and i will love it! also, i love how dalton ressembles billy and lou! the scene where he punches the guy to death and tell him how he will perish was so hot like like welcome back lou bloom you were missed <3 dalton is funny, and suicidal and caring and violent and what more could i ask? yeah okay i could ask to use his titties as pillows to fall asleep on.
my absolute favourite dalton creations are the wonderful gifs that @stephendorff made! i proclaim myself as their biggest fan when it comes to jake's gifs because oh my god the talent!!! i adore the parallel gifsets, so let me link you to a bunch! omg me when + nice hoodie + so bloody yum + i will cover these men with hello kitty bandaids + need both of them at the same time.
Detective Loki
he's an obvious one! jack twist, donnie darko and detective loki must be the most well loved characters in this fandom FOR ALL THE RIGHT REASONS. i love loki. i'm convinced deep in my soul that he would absolutely despise me. i can't shut up, i'm clingy as fuck and we'd spend most of his rare free time watching barbie movies. but it could be nice! i'd pack him his lunch, i'd learn to iron his shirts, i'd follow him to his barber and beg the man to give me the same haircut... like, we'd have a good life! aside from getting eaten alive by the constant fear that loki is in danger but shh. i love loki so much, i love all of the mysterious details about him, i love that jake played such a big part into building this character.
there are SO many amazing fics for detective loki, and rightfully so! he deserves it! in my opinion, @det-loki is the best writer. star captures loki in such an unique way, her writing feels like deleted scenes & extra footage from the movie. i know i always recommend star when it comes to loki fics but if you've ever read what she's posted, you would do the same! @charliehoennam has also posted some amazing det loki fics recently that i cannot recommend enough!!! here are the links: cat n mouse, dinner date & the dinner party (my personal favourite!).
Tommy Cahill
when i watched brothers, i conveniently just... skipped the military scenes. so the movie was all about tommy and i loved it. wow what a sweet romcom. i just love him. he's fun and sweet and he has had it so rough with his family that treats him like a black sheep. his father is acting like tommy is the failure when the only failure i'm seeing is a parent who failed to love his child like he deserved. AND I WOULD GIVE HIM ALL THE LOVE HE NEEDS! endless unconditional love. all he wants is to have a family of his own and be happy and become a better person. i have no doubt that he has what it takes to achieve his goals. he's my beanie baby and i love him to the moon and back.
controversy alert! but... i'm not mad at tommy and grace for kissing (skipping most of sam scenes helps a lot) but like... he was nice to grace for the most part, he helped her with the kitchen, he was so fun with the kids... he can't do anything wrong you know? i have horrible morals, i'm aware. so i'll just link to the video of the kiss scene because i love it and i love watching it and i wish it was me.
my top 3 usually fluctuates, but i'd say that overall, it's the same five characters that are on rotation. dalton, loki, tommy, davis and right now the 5th position is switching between john kinley & jerry brinson. i do want to say that i was pleasantly surprised with how much i liked anthony swofford and brian taylor when i watched their respective movies, i didn't think i'd enjoy their characters much but it might be time to retire my #1 bald!jake hater title. it was so hard to choose though. i feel bad for the ones i left out. i love you danny! and billy! and donnie! and adam! and holden! and okay fine i'll shut up. i know i've told you already, but this was such a sweet initiative to go around and spread some joy!!! thank you for doing this, and for sending it to me as well! 🥰
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robotlesbianjavert · 5 months
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10 fav things about spinner + 10 fav things about shigaraki
this is like asking me to describe my favourite things about the gentle warmth of the sun on my skin on a cloudless day at a beautiful lake that is good and fun to swim in. how can i put words to how perfect something like that is.
TOP TEN THINGS ABOUT SPINNER.
gay little hench fella. most important character trait always.
the bravado and bluster he gets introduced with being a cover for his deep-seated insecurities and internal struggles...
...his claims of high-minded idealism and lofty goals when his true wants are so simple (HOMOSEXUAL LOVE) (and to matter in some way i guess.) (mostly love. though.)
i know he is an annoying backseat gamer. i have said this before but it's so charming to me.
how surprisingly well his character development elevates the Themes & Motifs around how important human connections are for the ostracized. and he doesn't have to be annoying about it.
the charming little touches of characterization. him shrieking GRAND THEFT AUTO as a battle cry in 160, when he has to move his headband tail out of his eyes when trying to deliver a speech to toga. they make him feel so that much more real.
he's so poetic. he should be a writer. that warped, crumbling horizon...i'd never seen anything prettier GOD i know he was writing angsty poetry.
as someone who usually prefers secondary/side character to the mains, he is like. such a great example of a side character done right. he's like commentary on the nature of being a side character (monoma is another example of this in the manga), of the interplay between dehumanization/discrimination (Shoji Arc DNI) and crime, of connection with others and how they inspire us pushing us, etc etc etc. lots of the fun themes.
he is so sincere. so crazy sincere, once you have his love, he is so sincere. and so determined. he has the soul of the troubled outsider type of shonen hero who has to become stronger through the strength of his bonds. but also the energy of that shonen hero's love interest. all trapped in the body of a secondary character. he is so amazing.
when his face is drawn so small and cute and squishy like you can eat it :3
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TOP TEN THINGS ABOUT SHIGARAKI
the reason i read bnha in the first place was because i stumbled upon the leaks of chapter 222 with the tortured flashes of shigaraki's past when i was discourse diving for fun. and then looking at that chapter in full, the way that shigaraki delivered what he remembered of his backstory, the Insane Tragedy of it all. well how could i not love him.
when he wants to murder highschool students. who wouldn't!
i love his physicality, the way his body language is portrayed - like he's generally pretty loose and slumped (especially early on), but he's also very purposeful? it's something that i think horikoshi generally excels with in art, but shigaraki just takes the cake.
for that matter his whole character design is perfection. early on with all the hands was such a unique and creepy look that tied in beautifully to his backstory and also Themes & Motifs. and even when he loses most of the hands, his face is so <3 with all the eyebags and scratches and wrinkles. he's also the character whose appearance has changed the most, in a way that goes hand in hand with his character development.
when he gets pissed off when he first starts trying to recruit people so he goes to the mall. to angst publicly. he wore a hoodie <3
he's a character that's really easy to reduce down to his victimhood and trauma - and lots of people sure do that! - and his victimhood and trauma are essential parts of his character, but even with the dumbass possession arc shigaraki never loses sight of who he is and what he wants, even beyond AFO's influence. it's also really easy to make him Just a villain, a straightforward villain who cares for nothing and no one. but he does care about things, he cares about the league! he does it all.
much like spinner and in fact more than spinner, he has The Most shonen hero energy despite being thee villain. and he's so cool about it. he even gets a love interest.
petty misanthropic bitch but as soon as you know you're place he's chill. this is how shigaraki/resdestro is real.
chapter 379. everything about it but also how he called nagant a flip-flopping screw up. i'm ignoring how he said the same about my friend gentle criminal.
his smile :)
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i feel like both these lists do not do enough to really encapsulate why i love them. but one must try.
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HELLO BELOVED CKB!! I have been restraining myself for months (hypothetical since I have no sense of time) on the topic of fictional characters that remind people of Yves. Because Oh Boy do I have a big one.
Have you seen Vil Schoenheit from Twisted Wonderland? There are so many parallels it makes me go absolutely bonkers. I might get his character wrong but oh well.
- Vil is insanely rich & a model/actor. Very influential and worked his way to that spot. His skincare and makeup routine is fucking impertinent to him; he must look flawless at all times. He makes sure that he is in prime condition and pushes to make sure that the people in his dorm are of similar regimens.
- Vil is based off of the evil queen (he’s not related to her in any sense btw.) He, by nature, is very nitpicky and motherly towards the people that he cares about even though it can be seen by them as smothering and overwhelming sometimes.
- He specializes in making potions and specifically poisons.
- Oh My God he is so mother and honestly one of my favorite characters and so is Yves which honestly says a lot about me. I need help. Canonically calls his right hand man “dear/darling.”
If I had to relate Yves to another TWST character it would be Malleus Draconia but only looks and obsessiveness and the whole “I want to be with you for eternity” thing.
- 🌷
Oh hell yeah i know Twisted wonderland, I follow a couple of blogs who specialized in making Yandere Fics about them, my favourite is Malleus Fuckin Draconia my man. Im pretty sure you can see my type (Long black hair, green eyes, calm, lithe and vampiric types)
I didn't know shit about twisted wonderland at first, I fr thought it was a yandere dating sim, but I had to learn everything bit by bit from the bits and bobs of canon those authors would sometimes post about, so it was like learning a language from scratch.
I was partially interested in Vil Schoenheit, but I guess most of the fics wrote him as mainly focused on his fanbase and not the reader- like he needs the world to have their eyes on him or he will throw up and die. So that kinda killed my yearning boner off for him because reader's attention is not enough and he requires love from the masses too.
Like fr i appreciate the maternalness of Vil, but it just feels... surface level since I doubt he would be interested in personally wiping reader's ass when they're incapable or cleaning up your puke on himself with a straight face without making a big deal out of it.
and IMO i think he's a little too loud, a little too naggy and his nitpicky comes from a place of self service, not really in the reader's best interest. Like Yves would listen to you and observe 100%, whereas its the other way round for Vil, where you gotta drink the yappuchino he serves. Dont come for me Vil simps i think he is swell despite this </3 I just don't think he would be the parallel of Yves </333
but for MALLEUS tho,,, mans a quiet, antisocial loner from what I saw, only yearning for the attention of the reader (or "yuu"), he's super calm, a recluse, and has like 4 friends. I have read fics that painted him in a maternal light that tickled my heartussy, and I guess thas why i like him more. Because to me, I headcannon he would take care of you himself as if you're paralyzed from the head neck down without complaints or feeling icky when he gotta handle with human bodily fluids. He would mostly listen and observe, maybe infodump about gargoyles but I think he would be a closer match to Yves than Vil in vibes and looks.
Though might wanna consider Jamil Viper from Scarabia, he hates standing out and mans was always depicted as the caretaker to Kalim. And I would like always have the biggest crush on him because,,, hehe caretaker
But he does so begrudgingly and like has a deep hatred for Kalim, I was like damn what if he loves caretaking for me,,, that isn't gonna happen because Jamil comes from a background of injustice and he isn't going to like being subjected to the role forced upon him since birth,,, aha ... unless...
and he's hella smart, but he's moving in silence just like Yves, gritting his teeth but keep on trucking no matter how angery he is. He is calm and quiet, and he listens because he need that information to succeed in his goals, but my delulu ass would be like omg he is so attentive
but theres that spite in Jamil that do be present in Yves though, ironically I would say that Yves is closer in character to Malleus and Jamil than Vil, but i could be just biased and say that because of both appearances are similar to that of Yves rn (Malleus and Jamil has like long, straightish dark hair and them sharp eyes)
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joheunsaram · 2 years
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Discord Discourse (knj) - 2
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summary- Kim Namjoon likes to spend time in a discord server... dedicated to him. With new friends and a budding crush, will he ever be able to truly be himself without revealing who he is?
word count- 1.2k
pairing- idol!Namjoon x fanfic writer!Reader
rating- PG15
genre- internet relationships, s2f2(maybe)lovers, angst, fluff
warnings- none
a.n.- well once again my dumbass turned a story into a series. enjoy this part! more to come <3
Thanks to the beautiful @raplinesmoon for helping me brainstorm, and @oftenderweapons and @jeonspub for beta reading!
As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌
-
Namjoon is live: Birthday!! 
You stared at the notification on your phone, your heart racing. Your legs felt numb just like your fingers – a chill going through your body. This was probably not a normal reaction to finding out that one of the people you considered your close friends was a world famous celebrity. But you couldn’t help the way your entire body wanted to cringe, throwing you back into the moment where an innocent voice chat turned into a life changing reveal.
You were a bit hesitant accepting the video chat initially, afraid that the nice guy you had a bizarre number of things in common with and flirted with occasionally would turn out to be a creep masturbating. Who knew what you saw on the screen was far more traumatizing?
It was fanfic fodder, a storyline life handed to you neatly tied with a bow. You were the main characters you wrote about, that thousands, if not millions, hoped to be. Yet, all you could have was a visceral reaction to the sheer embarrassment of your conversations with him. You had even sent him pictures of him while talking to him about all the depraved things you wanted to do. Not to mention that he had read almost all of your fics, some bordering on so explicit that you hoped no one you knew ever read them. Perhaps that’s why you were so open with him. He provided you with an outlet that your real life friends didn’t. He was safe, a faceless Dragonite icon that shared your love of philosophy and loved to read in too deep on every piece of media you encountered.
Until he was the last person you ever thought he’d be – the subject of your 3 am horny ravings, Kim Namjoon.
Perhaps if you were cooler, more confident, you would’ve turned on the camera as well, chatted with him all nonchalant like a real fanfic protagonist, but instead you blocked him after a half hearted apology. Oh god. You wondered if the rest of the band knew about your stories and if you were now going to be banned as a stalker. Would you even be able to attend one of his concerts again?
But even as you thought of those scenarios, you knew that the John you had been talking to wasn’t like that. Even the Namjoon that you knew from the vlogs and the documentaries didn’t seem like that. The message he had sent you last night on your blog proved that he still wanted to be friends.
Your earlier conversations, however, were still something you couldn’t wrap your head around. John wasn’t someone you talked to occasionally. You talked to him almost daily, about his life, his struggles. The two of you never shared many identifying details with each other, but you knew when he went to the gym, what his favourite food was, how much he hated travelling on planes, and even his kinks! Merging the image of John with Namjoon was not only difficult, it seemed impossible. How could the guy who had once sent you porn to help inspire your next smut scene be the same guy who was on the framed poster next to your bookshelf?
Clicking on the notification, you braced yourself as the video stream popped up to show the subject of your cognitive dissonance. Dressed in a grey hoodie, he spoke in Korean, showing off the art on his walls. You couldn’t help how the blood rushed to your cheeks, how your palms became clammy.
You were never one of those fans who looked out for how idols were feeling, or read too much into their expressions. But as you looked at him through the screen you wondered why he was alone last night, chatting with you for hours. His eyes seemed sunken, his dark circles visible even behind whatever filter he was using. He seemed tired and your conversations with John flooded your mind.
I wish I could just stop being me sometimes. I love my job and all the work I’ve done but sometimes it’d be nice to just disappear.
He had sent you that out of the blue on a random morning and you had assumed he was being hyperbolic. He had told you his job was draining and you had assumed he was under pressure from his boss. It was jarring to see the man who had confessed that to you and you felt a pang of empathy dissipate through your body.
Namjoon on the screen showed off his cake, his raspy voice singing happy birthday to himself and breaking you out of your reverie. For the first time, you saw him as a friend and not a celebrity. A friend sitting alone in his house singing to himself because his job required him to do so.
You sighed. What were you doing by blocking him? It wasn’t his fault that he was who he was. Other than not telling you his identity, you had no doubt that the year of conversations you had with him were genuine. He was kind and sincere, and a cloud of guilt rose inside you. You were a terrible friend. He didn’t know anything about you either.
“I have to go soon but thank you for being here with me and celebrating my birthday. I love you guys,” Namjoon said through the screen, his phone now held in his hand as he leaned back in his chair. His eyes locked onto the camera and your mouth ran dry when he smiled his perfectly dimpled smile.
“Before I go I just wanna say thank you for liking the stuff I make. I write all of these songs and lyrics for you and sometimes I can’t believe that I get to share a part of me with you all. Some of you guys have said I inspire you and you have no idea how much that means to me. So please if anything I have ever made or said or done inspires you to create something new, please, please don’t stop. Because you’re an inspiration to me too.”
Namjoon rarely spoke in English at length during his livestreams and the fact that he did now made a glimmer of hope spark inside you. Perhaps you didn’t have to lose your friendship to humiliation. Perhaps you could salvage this and be brave for once.
With shaking hands you went into discord, typing a message into your chat with Namjoon, and when you hit send you got to witness his reaction in real time for the first time ever.
On your screen you heard the loud buzz of his phone, his eyes trailing to the top of his phone before he broke into a huge grin. Your lips moved automatically, mirroring his smile.
He ended his livestream with a few finger hearts and a goodbye, and ten seconds later you had a new message.
yn: I would love to be friends if you’ll have me still john: thank god! you have no idea how happy this makes me
As you read his message, your smile grew and you forgot why you were embarrassed in the first place. Kim Namjoon was your friend, and you had never felt luckier than in that moment.
-
taglist -  @awhnamjoon @alpacaseoks @raplinesmoon @codeinebelle @aislinnstanaka@miscelunaaa @moonchild1 @shydestinyyouth @itsjaneeet @piecesofapril11@yoontaethings @jeonyreads @pb-n-juju @everythingaboutfangirling @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997 @lizzymizzy-blogg @namjooningera​ @notbotheredtho 
Thank you for reading this fic! If you liked it, please tell me your thoughts. I appreciate your feedback!
Please reblog and check out more stories on my masterlist <3
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myheartalivewrites · 7 months
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Weekend WIP Game
Thanks for tagging my @kiwiana-writes @cha-melodius and @daisymae-12!
Rules: List your WIPs below (if you only write one fic at a time, feel free to include future WIPs/ideas!) then answer the following questions. Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs (or more).
1. WIP List: I'm definitely a one-at-a-time sort of person. I hate having unfinished WIPs hanging about, it stresses me out. That said, I've got three docs with a substantial number of words in them:
[Dark and Stormy]
[Provence] (more here)
Oxford Nights
AND there's one more WIP I've finished working on and am hoping to start posting tomorrow (ahem ahem ahem) which is not on that list but I’m counting anyway
2. Which of your WIPs is currently the longest?
[Provence] at nearly 14k
3. Which WIP do you expect will end up the longest?
Probs that one, I don’t think I’m even halfway through with it! It’s not going to be long-long though
4. Which WIP is your favourite to write/the most enjoyable to write? Why?
Oh God, I don't know. I've not worked on [Dark and Stormy] for a while, that's the one I'm most looking forward to getting back to
5. Which WIP do you find the most intimidating to write? Why?
Lol, right now [Dark and Stormy] is intimidating bc I want to change the whole beginning of it. That's why I've been putting it off for oh... nine months 😬
6. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?
The one that's gonna start posting tomorrow? Mainly bc I'm worried it's too much like a devil's threesome, even though no women are involved lol
7. Which of your WIPs will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? Why?
Again, tomorrow's one, which is called Twice the speed (of you and me) by the way! I've asked a couple of people to read it through for me.
8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of writer's block?
Sometimes, yeah. Mainly when I try and work stuff into the plot that I'm not that interested in or that requires a lot of world building. I've started following the Matthew Lopez philosophy about it: if it's not about Alex and Henry, it has to go. It's certainly what happened with Deep Blue, and that's how I got myself out of being blocked, by limiting anything that wasn't specifically about them.
9. Which WIP has your favourite OC? Tell us about them?
Oh, [Provence] has a character in it who I really love, she's an old friend of Arthur's, an actress in her sixties all glamour and graceful ageing, who loves Henry like a parent. Though, weirdly, she's what's got me a bit stuck on it, because I have all these ideas for what I want from her but can't quite bring myself to do the world building that comes along with that 😂
10. Which WIP is the sexiest?
Hah, lol. The threesome. Is the fandom ready for it? We'll see.
11. Which WIP is the angstiest?
Dunno, actually. Maybe [Provence], just because Alex is having his bisexual awakening and feeling all jealous at Henry's sluttiness. It's not ACTUALLY angsty though.
12. Which WIP has the best characterisation (in your humble opinion)?
Yikes, what a question! All of them, my characterisation is perfect, no notes etc.
13. Which WIP has the best scene setting (in your humble opinion)?
Oooh I love the [Provence] one. It's all lush, some super rich people's home, but with a touch of south of France rustic to it.
14. Which WIP have you worked the hardest on?
🤷‍♀️ don't think I have an answer for this one
15. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for? Why?
Again, just... 🤷‍♀️ I always wonder about the really smutty ones, I fret over them the most and then they turn out to be really popular so...
16. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?
Not really, though they do keep me awake at night. I woke up this morning at like five and just HAD to check on the beta feedback.
17. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other fics don't?
Nah, not really. I mean, threesome mechanics? That's new, I suppose
18. Which WIP is the funniest or has the most humour?
God, no, not this question. I have zero confidence on my ability to make things funny. Like, I know there are funny bits in there, but... Oxford Nights has funny bits with Alex and Henry trying shit out I guess.
19. Do any of your WIPs contain outside POVs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? How are you finding that process?
Nah
20. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs.
Okay, so: in one of them Henry owns a cow named MARY 😁
Tagging a meagre 4 peeps for my 4 WIPs ✌️ : @14carrotghoul @suseagull04 @happiness-of-the-pursuit and @whimsymanaged to overshare on the dash, thanks!
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heart-forge · 9 months
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what are your favorite tropes or themes to write about?
Oh gosh, where to start. I don't think you can scratch my work without finding tropes (which I guess is true of all work because fanfiction didn't invent character tropes and as much as literary canon likes to pretend that it's above the trappings of genre fiction, I have eyes and can read and inventing your own tropes and passing them around doesn't make them not tropes). They're good jumping off points and fun to invert and play around with.
I've said before that Trigger is "enemies to lovers" which frequently like manifests as "guy who's really mean to you until enough time has passed that it's time to have sex with him" but obviously I'm not going down that route. Valerian is a mafia boss (before it was cool and weird and deeply uncomfortable dfkjhsd) but I like to think I play him as more deeply insecure and out of his depth (not necessarily in his position but in his situation) than they're usually allowed to skew.
From a thematic perspective I think I just write from a place of deep cynicism and mistrust for institutions sdkfjfhsdkj. The Manor Hill angle is a spoiler but also I mean Abeni STARTS having a profound distaste for her sister's position as diplomat and Valerian's entire government structure revolves around the government and the gangs vying for influence. Bad Ritual is pretty obvious when your boss throws you out of the top of a skyscraper to try and force a warlock intervention. Hybrid we haven't quite gotten there yet but you start out in a secret research commune run by a weird bug girl and her dog loving brother (who are twins but not twins), a [REDACTED, YOU DON'T KNOW MARSH'S DEAL YET], two real twins one of which handles odd jobs and fix em up tech, and the other one who's job it is to want to fight you soososososososo bad and also make candy. so it's not a buttoned down government operation fsdkjdsfkjs.
My baby favourite trope that I haven't written yet is knights, which I know turns some people off but I'm talking paladin levels of devotion while I slowly crush them under the philosophical weight of their own choices. Javert levels of "oops that was actually one degree further than my worldview could skew before I lost my shit completely". God I'm so excited to write that one because where I'm going to stop the demo is going to flood my inbox. You're all going to hunt me like starving wolves while I smile and kick my feet.
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sciderman · 10 months
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hi sci! i think at least once a day i am taken aback by how much of an incredible artist you are. your ability to create and your passion for it is just astounding to me, over the course of a few years your work has become such a pillar of inspiration for me 💘
i've asked you before for drawing tips and i value those so much but i've found myself actually wanting more and more to get into writing fanfiction but i have about a million worries and i'm not entirely sure to start. i definitely smashed out a few so-bad-its-bad obscure anime fanfictions as a kid but i really haven't touched creative writing in eons. I know you've been writing for a good while, but do you have any writing tips you tend to refer to or any advice for begginners? ... and any advice on getting over my internalised cringe culture when i can't open a word document and type out "peter parker" without shrivelling into myself...
anyway! have a great day! i love you very much and i am so excited for the spidercablepool fic to ruin my train of thoughts for the forseeable future :] ❤️
immediate cringe upon the mention of "peter parker" is par for the course, i'm afraid
bless you so much @saeram!! bless you for all your kind words, i... houugh... thank you so, so much. thank you so much for reading the goofy things i put out into the world - i'm so, so glad you're enjoying it!
i don't know if i have a lot in the way of writing advice - i think the only way to overcome the shame of it is just to whisper "i am cringe and i am free" and do it. i think anything you enjoy doing is worth doing - and, you know, if it's not enjoyable you just wouldn't do it. you post your first fanfiction - you get feedback, you find out people hate it when you write in first person. you learn, you come back stronger than ever. (not from personal experience. okay. yes. it's from personal experience.)
(i still like my first person pov fics. shut up.)
maybe my first advice is don't write in first person (people hate that.) (but actually i love it, when it's done well. but i'm freaky kinky.)
i'd say reading definitely helps when it comes to writing, but again, that's me giving good advice that i don't follow (i'm jared, 19.) - i mostly read comics. and i mostly read comics that i don't enjoy. don't be like me. read things that you enjoy - even if you've read it a hundred times before, odds are, it'll inspire.
i did say when people asked me advice on writing dialogue (which is my absolute FAVOURITE thing to write) - watching movies and television with dialogue / characters that you really like honestly really helps - more so than reading, I think, for me. performance is so, so important when i'm writing dialogue. it's not just words, i have to have such a clear picture of how it's being said, ya feel. how the characters are performing it. and so, in that way, it plays out a little bit like a movie in my head, even though there's still a lot of internal monologue in there (the internal monologue i write is often very reliant on visual metaphor too - i'm just - i'm a really visual person, i think.)
all in all i don't think there's any better advice than just DO it. just DO it! and once you've done it once, the second time is easier. and then the next, and then the next. it might help to discuss it with others - do some back-and-forth, or even have proof-readers - (i rarely do, but i also love to overshare all my wips, because i'm a giddy little schoolgirl when i'm knee-deep in my writing.)
if you'd like to spitball ideas or share your writing (particularly in regards to peter parker, my beloved) i'd be happy to help! god speed and good luck, and i hope you'll be putting your beautiful fanfic babies out into the universe for us starving folk to enjoy
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savagewildnerness · 2 months
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I read all of the Vampire Chronicles as a teenager; some of the later ones, as they were released. I only ever reread TVL & QOTD as they’re my favourites (especially TVL which I have reread many, many times since then)… although I know when I was a teenager I also adored Memnoch the Devil & that was the only book I felt I wanted other people to read it too.
I think I never reread Memnoch because of Lestat’s existential questioning & the deep impact the book had on me & not long after I read it, my Dad died. It isn’t that I ever believed in God myself. My Mum is Catholic, but I wasn’t brought up religious & my Dad didn’t believe. But where I could have said I was agnostic till then, after my Dad died that was an absolute no for me. I had to know for certain what I believed.
And I think part of why Lestat is such a powerful character; The Character to me is that his reasoning underlay my personal development & so he helped me when I had to delve deep into what I believed in the most difficult context (when someone is dead, you wish you could believe in more, at least because it would give some comfort and so be easier… but I do not believe that. I believe when we are dead, that is it: utterly dead, dead, dead, gone.)
Anyway… I think I’m going to go through all the chronicles now. Not just my favourites. I don’t know: does it seem silly that when I do deep existential questioning or sink into dark questioning of my fundamental beliefs, Lestat is ALWAYS there with me? He is who I talk such matters over with, I suppose… and that’s despite that only 2 of the books did I ever reread till now. But Memnoch particularly had such an impact on me that even having never reread it, its impact is still the same now. Although I’m a bit afraid to reread that in case I don’t feel it the same now I’m not a teenager???
Well, TVL was actually the first Anne Rice book I read ever, but I am returning now to Interview with the Vampire for the first time since I was in my young teens & this page has just broken my heart. I was young when I first read this book. I wasn’t thinking about Anne Rice herself at all; only the book. I doubt I knew, when I read it about Anne’s own daughter.
But reading it now, knowing the context in which it was written, I hear Claudia’s challenge to Lestat & Louis “Which of you made me what I am?” as something veiled, but deeper too: Anne making her daughter challenge her & Stan (incidentally Stan was my Dad’s name too) as to why she had to die. (Not saying this was her daughter’s feeling in reality in any way ever, or even necessarily Anne’s intention. Only what I felt just now.)
Anyway - No wonder Lestat & Louis had to be redeemable, loveable, beautifully in love vampires by The End Of It All, in order to overcome this pain & trauma & the impossibility of the wrongness of death (that any soul can cease is unimaginably awful. Incomprehensible when that’s your own child & you have no power over it) that is surely impossible to ever overcome in reality, but which (o the joy of fiction), in fiction, these characters can be loveable, loved & they can be “redeemed”, they can be ok, they can endure & they can even become The Character eternally, just like their immortal selves for I am sure thousands of people, just like (you &?) me.
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Incorrect Quotes Tag Game - Ships Edition (Part 2)
It’s been a while since I last did this. Link to the incorrect quote generator:
And link to part 1 of this:
I’ve been starting to share more of the Steph’s Crew sequels with you all (UVC in particular), and there are so many more ships to explore in them. I only did 2 ships last time… the two main ones of TMM. So I think I’ll do 2 more here - Dalice (Dylan + Alice) and Chelise (Charlie and Elise). The two ships from last time are still pretty big ships in the sequel, btw. I just want to explore some different ships/characters this time around.
Here we go!!
Dalice:
Alice: I love you. Dylan: How many people have you said that to? Alice: Everyone. Dylan: What? Alice: I told everyone that I love you.
___
Alice: PEASANT. I REQUIRE SUSTENANCE. Dylan: You know there are other ways to say you want McDonalds. Alice: FOUL PLEBEIAN. YOU DARE SPEAK AGAINST ME— Dylan: *sigh* What do you want? Alice: Chicken nuggets please.
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Dylan: I would let you ruin my life. Alice: Sorry, but I’m busy ruining my own. You’ll have to wait.
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Dylan to Alice: Turn that frown upside-down! (a little while later) Dylan: What are you doing? Alice, trying to do a handstand: You told me to “turn that frown upside-down” but it’s not working!
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Dylan: This is a bad idea.  Alice: Then why are you coming along?  Dylan: Someone has to help get your injured ass home.
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Alice, texting Dylan: Any plans for tonight?  Dylan: No.  Alice: HA! Loser.
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Alice: I can't take this anymore, someone needs to take me out!  Dylan: In a dating type of way, or an assassination type of way?  Alice: I don't know, surprise me!
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Chelise:
Charlie: They don’t make them like me no more. I’m the last of my kind. Elise: Thank God...
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Elise: You know, when I first met you, I really didn’t like you. Charlie, after a moment: …I thought there was going to be another half to that sentence? Elise: Nope! That’s it.
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Charlie: Hey.  Elise: *pissed off* You… complete …ASS, Charlie!! You show up here after WEEKS, and you say “hey”?!
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Elise: Oh shoot! Elise: Um. Excuse my vulgarity. Charlie: I’ll let it slide.
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Charlie: El is playing hard to get… Charlie: Little does she know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.
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Charlie: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No progress whatsoever.  Elise: Wow. They sound really stupid.  Charlie: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense.  Elise: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!”  Charlie: I guess you’re right. Hey El, I love you.  Elise: See! Like that! Just say that. Charlie: *frustrated* Holy fucking shit. Elise: If that flies over their head then, sorry Charles, but they're too dumb for you.  Charlie: Elise-
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Elise: Hey. So, about that love letter you sent me… Charlie: *blushes* Oh. W-what are your thoughts? Elise: The fourth sentence- Charlie: Yeah, that’s where I got really deep and emotional and I- Elise: It’s “you’re,” not “your”.
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And we’re done! Woo-hoo!
Maybe I’ll do an update version of the Bephanie and Brelise incorrect quotes as well lol. This was fun! (I think my fave is the third Chelise one… reminds me of Harry Potter lol)
I’m also planning to do a part 3 for Rachel and Gordon at some point.
Anyways, I’m tagging these folks to do it next:
@mysticstarlightduck, @fire-but-ashes-too, @exquisitecrow, @toribookworm22, @winterandwords, @aziz-reads, @sam-glade, @waywardwizzard, @janec23, @rbbess110, @clairelsonao3, @ember-writer, @harleyacoincidence, and @writinglittlebeasts. Plus anyone else who wants to do it is welcome to. 🤗
Let me know what your favourite incorrect quotes were!
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rosemarycrowley · 7 months
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I have read the autobiography of the man who was no longer human. The walking corpse of a soon to be suicide. 
I have read the story of Oba Yozo. And also the story of Osamu Dazai.
I have noticed the similarities. Dazai's tendency to leave not just fragments but whole morsels of himself in his work. Is it a way to explore his own psyche ? To try to understand himself? To make the readers feel what he felt? To validate his own emotions? 
Oba Yozo wasn't a good man. He drank and drank and wasted his precious life away. He mistreated women and only used them to satisfy his own needs. That part we all agree on. That's somewhat the part that most of booktok grasped from the whole three notebooks that recounted his life. They saw him as he saw himself. Nothing but trash. Nothing but an empty carcass. Something that is not human and that has never been human. Now here's what I think: I think that when read literature, it is not to judge someone's character and choose whoever's right and whoever's wrong. It is not to point fingers and "cancel" characters. The point of literature is to push us to analyse those characters, it makes us want to delve into their mind and dismantle their every thought and try to make sense of it all. And that is the beauty of it. 
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Now let's go back to our man.
Yozo was very much human. His humanity resided in the fact that he was scared. He was deeply scared of how people would perceive him. It started when he was young and wondered about life and traditions and why his father was a sacred figure to him, how he was too afraid to disappoint him. It was the lack of communication and reassurance from his parents that helped nourish this social anxiety and pushed him to perfect his "people mask" only to be trapped by it to the point of believing that he is nothing, a mere monster without that mask. So he continued on with his people pleasing and took up drinking to escape the mental disorders that came with it. And that was his downfall.
There was a point where I looked for who I should blame for the way that he is. I was even inclined to diagnose him with sociopathy but I felt that it was unfair to do so. He was the result of his own thoughts and his environment. 
Although short, it took me a while to finish the book. I had to read it bit by bit to feel it all the way he did. It broke my heart many many times. It broke me when he prayed to God for one more moment of happiness, no matter how gut- wrenching the misery that will come after it. He believed that the bare minimum for someone to feel human is to be happy. Even for one moment. And the fact that he never felt happiness nor unhappiness deprived him from that title.
Did he really never feel happy? Or did he do whatever is in his power to be as far away from it out of fear? Out of fear of loss ? That the pain of losing said happiness would destroy him ? Then why did he pray to God in that way ? Was it because it was his last shred of fate that he was willing to offer up ? Was it his last chance at life ? 
And you know what destroyed my heart the most? It was how he ended up getting a taste of that happiness, and he lost it. And he felt that despair. And he lived on in misery.
Now what did I think of this book.
I thought it was brilliant. I loved how straight forward it was, how Yozo shared his deepest thoughts in the notebook and how it was given to us raw and untouched.
I also found traced of Dazai all over it. And not just because he was the author. But because it was very much like his life. It was all too similar to miss.
This book felt like a confession. It felt like despair and deep deep sadness. It felt like a memoir with a suicide note aftertaste. To think that it was Dazai's last book before he went to other side only confirms my feelings. 
All in all, it's one of my favourite books to date, it's been annotated and loved and cared for and I appreciate the person who gifted it to me.
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ceeceetv · 3 months
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🌵 🕯️ 🥤🍄 🦴🪲 🧩
🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love
This is prob a longer answer than you expected but here it is. I am much more of an album listener than a playlist listener. I like to put on an album or artist and just get immersed in their work one at a time. Especially bc I feel like streaming has sort of taken away from the experience of albums as cohesive works. Here’s the Julien Baker album that has been stuck in my brain on repeat recently. Love a sad, existential record.
Playlists are also great though and I will def put on a playlist to run to or have in the background, etc. And I admire people who can curate great playlists!
And here’s where I’ll admit to my deep and abiding love of Taylor Swift and her songwriting. My longest fandom experience is with her work. So. Here’s a playlist called Taylor Swift bridges that are god-tier bc that woman can write a fucking bridge like no one else.
🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?
lol. 10. And thanks for indulging me by adding this question and letting me talk about it. I am a copy editor as a career and also as a hobby. I have loved words and language as long as I can remember, and I think I find more joy in helping other people wrangle and finesse their writing until it says just exactly what they want it to say than in writing my own work. I’ve told you this, but the fact that editing is a solitary activity that is also inherently very collaborative is perfect for my personality. There is also something that is just so satisfying to me about a perfectly punctuated sentence with smooth syntax and prosody that also communicates meaning effectively. A well-used semi-colon is sexy. And I love standing in as an advocate for the reader to make sure their experience is as close to what the author intends as possible. I could go on.
🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love
God. This is the longest fic I’ve ever read by a wide margin, but it has become so special to me I have to shout it out:
Here’s what I wrote in my AO3 bookmark for it: Author takes us from intimate, provincial romance to epic, sweeping action/tragedy so deftly I can’t even believe it. I’ve never been so invested in an original side character or cried harder reading a fic. This one is special.
It’s a story about the two of them falling in love slowly and messily with lots of false starts and obstacles that deals with identity and grief and longing and self-loathing and forgiveness and has a Mobius backstory where he contends with queer prejudice in 1990s America and it also includes hot smut and I just cannot recommend it enough. (It’s technically not finished but very close to and there are over 200k words published.)
🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings
Idk if this is a head canon so much as just the way I personally read the text of the show but: Mobius has religious trauma and his experience with the TVA is akin to fundamentalist Christian indoctrination. Loki is the spark that helps him begin to deconstruct and heal and wake up to himself and what he actually wants.
Also: Loki LOVES having his hair played with and Mobius loves to have his hands in Loki’s hair.
🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing? 
Mmm, idk about one piece of media but, as a medium, song lyrics and poetry. Anything I’ve started writing lately has usually been sparked by a lyric. I feel like lyrics are able to evoke much more complex stories in so few words, which I think is magical.
🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here
[fic about Mobius washing Loki’s hair for him]
The sight of Loki’s cock, not hard at the moment but definitely not-not interested, nearly makes Mobius forget where he is. What he’s meant to be doing—helping with—right now.
He looks up to find Loki watching him.
“Um,” Mobius starts, suddenly struggling to find words (appropriate ones, anyway). “Right, so, should we get started?” He rises up off his heels and reaches for the detachable shower head.
“I like it hot,” Loki says.
“What?!” Mobius balks and nearly drops the shower head into the bath.
“The water. I like it hot. Don’t be afraid to turn it up.”
“Oh, sure. Can do.” Get it together, Mobius.
🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?
Immediately? Hmm, well, I will say when a fic has something in the summary like “Where Loki doesn’t turn into a dumb tree and they can actually be together,” I will not click to begin with. I’m happy to read certain kinds of fix-its or universes where the ending is different or not relevant, but if an author is actively throwing shade at the canon ending, I just assume we have such different readings of the show that what we want from a fic probably doesn’t align very well.
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peachiime · 8 months
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my headcanon that yu likes my little pony is similarly amazing to the naoto cowboy movie fan hc. imagine that's his idea of fun bonding activities with friends. yes he'll go on a run with you or teach you things or be taught things or sit and talk but that's what you want. what he wants is a good ol mlp bingeing session.
he peacefully watches it with nanako. she says it's her new favourite show and he gets so excited he starts bouncing around the room like a rubber ball.
he delves deep into a literary analysis as he watches it with yosuke who didn't ask for nor want this scenario to play out.
kanji, yukiko, and rise all don't quite understand why yu is so obsessed with it but yukiko thinks the characters are fun, which yu takes as a sign to endlessly rant to her. blink blink
chie just sits there staring at the screen like a grandpa trying to read small text and every so often she'll just go "wait what's going on" which is quite disheartening for poor yu
teddie would love it if yu could ever get him to sit down and stay in one place for more than 5 damn minutes
he also tried to get adachi to watch it with him a total of one time because when he dared to suggest the idea, adachi gave him the most foul atrocious judgemental look known to man.
and naoto... oh boy, naoto.
naoto of all people is the only one to actually engage so intensely in this show with yu. they'll endlessly rant together about it and go absolutely feral whenever it's mentioned. whenever naoto comes over to the dojima residence its always for my little fucking pony and NO you CANNOT INTERRUPT THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT BUSINESS
hours and hours dedicated to that single topic. day and night. it's my little pony. people wonder if they've ever slept. no. my little pony.
naoto reads into this show just as much as yu does and by god do they love cramming therapy sessions into their quite frankly obsessive viewing activity
naoto's favourite is applejack, but when yu said rarity reminded him of naoto there were tears of joy being shed
hm. autism
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