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as-is-above-so-below · 3 months

Text

Cardigan - John Price x F!Teacher!Reader

Part 2: Midnight Rain

summary: you get yourself in a pickle a/n: hi! I return again! I'm sorry it's short, but I'm trying a new method of posting. Instead of aiming for a specific word count (which leads to me getting writer's block and not posting ANYTHING), I write until I'm satisfied with what I'm trying to achieve. Hopefully, I've achieved that goal, and y'all like it :) Blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

You drummed your fingers against the notebook in your lap and gnawed on the top of your pen. It was late, even by your standards; the sun had long since set, and dinner eaten hours ago. But you were up, sitting in the dark in your living room, heavy rain pelting your old windows. You were trying to pull together a new lesson plan for the following day. A few curious students had started asking questions about the modern military. Like, key differences between military strategies used in the time they were studying and today. And, of course, yet again, you made promises that you were struggling to keep. And you always keep your promises to your students.

Fuck.

The internet wasn’t helping at all. You didn’t study military strategy in any of your courses. Was that even a thing?

The last thing you wanted to do was call him. You were so confident that you could solve your problem yourself, at nine o’clock. Now, it was past midnight, and you were absolutely desperate.

Fuck.

Before your tired brain can flood with guilt and change its mind, you grab your phone from your nightstand and tap into your recent calls log. Your stomach churned, anxiety bubbling up with every trill. God, it’s so fucking late to be calling. It felt like you were split in two. One half of you was praying that his phone was on silent (you know it’s not) or he’ll sleep through the ringing (he won’t), while the other–the miserable, exhausted half–needed him to pick up.

The latter won out.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

John’s deep, sleepy voice made you feel guilty and incredibly happy that you’d woken him up. Soft and grumbly, rolling in his chest; it made you feel soft and warm inside…

Not the point of the call.

“Hi, John. I’m completely fine, I just…” You took a deep breath, the heel of your free hand pressed into one of your dry, worn-out eyes. “I know you’re this big important captain, and you have work in the morning, but I’m in a bit of a pickle and need a massive favor.”

There was a slight rustling on the other end like he had turned slightly to check the nearby time. “It’s one o’clock in the morning, love,” he mumbled.

You felt even worse. “I know, I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me,” you begged, running a hand over the top of your head. “One of my kids asked about the military. It sparked a whole discussion in class, and I may have overstated my knowledge. I barely know anything about it, and my brain is turning to mush. I’m so tired I wanna cry, and-”

He quickly cut off your rambling. “Woah, hey. Slow down there. What’s going on?” he asked, suddenly sounding much more awake.

That brought you pause. You honestly hadn’t thought what you would ask if John actually answered the phone through. It was one o’clock in the morning, which John had correctly pointed out, and your brain wasn’t operating at full capacity.

“I was…wondering if you could give me a lesson. Because I’m super tired, and I like to hear you talk.”

“…You do?”

“Yeah. I’ve learned a lot from you just…talking to me? But I’m a history teacher. I’m an expert on wars, not war.”

There was some shuffling on the phone. On the other line, John was leaning over the edge of his bed, searching blindly for his little pocket planner in the pile of clothes on the floor. The rustling stopped when he placed the device on his pillow, rifling through the calendar. He sniffed and was quiet for a moment, while you nibbled anxiously at your pen. Again.

The silence finally broke with a tired sniffle from John. “I can do you better. Why don’t I come to your classes tomorrow?” he asked.

You froze, pen still between your teeth. John? Coming to your school? Spending the day with your students? That would be the equivalent of introducing your boyfriend to your children.

“…Really?”

“Sure.”

Could you even call him your boyfriend? You’d been on a few dates, sure, over the last…two months? No, it was closer to three. Had it been that long already? You did some quick math in your head. You’d gone on about one date a week, with a few canceled due to last-minute commitments. Still, about one date a week, over three months…

Holy shit.

“John, I’m sure you’re busy. I couldn’t-”

“Not at all,” he hummed, cutting you off. “Besides, it would take me ‘til class tomorrow to give you a good enough rundown, and the boss loves shite like this.”

“I thought you were the boss?”

You could practically hear a small smile tugging at John’s lips. The expression was a familiar one. The corner of his mouth quirked up, shifting his beard and creating happy wrinkles near his eyes. His nose would scrunch up a bit, too, especially if you were out in cold weather.

“Everybody has a boss, sweetness. Myself included.”

Christ. Not the pet names. And especially not in the tired, gravelly tone his voice was currently in. John Price was going to be the death of you, even in his unfocused state.

You unfolded your legs from underneath you and moved your notebook onto the coffee table. Your resolve was fading, and you couldn’t be bothered to argue. While you did feel bad about dragging John to your school to fix the problem you created, you weren’t sure you had any other option. Accept defeat? To a group of teenagers? Absolutely not. You’d never live it down. You sighed, rubbing tiredly at your eyes. “If you’re sure…”

“I am.”

A soft smile crossed your face. “Is this just a ploy to meet my kids?”

“Maybe.”

Your sleepy giggles were like music to John’s ears. The sound alone was worth the favor. As if he wouldn’t have done it anyway, just to ease your stress. He would take any and every opportunity to make your day easier or make you happy. What he wouldn’t give to hear that laugh in person, laying beside you in your bed–

No. John’s a good man. A gentleman, he would say. A man who was perfectly capable of not acting on his urges and thoughts. At least, not in person. However, in the privacy of his own home? That was a different story.

“Thank you so much, John.”

Right. You’re still on the phone. He heard a soft click on your end of the call.

“That’d better be you closing your laptop, I’m hearing.”

“It is.”

“Good girl.” You blushed furiously. Fuck. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

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#captain john price x f!reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #john price x f!reader #john price x teacher!reader #call of duty #captain john price #cardigan as is above so below #as is above so below #cod mw #mw fics #call of duty fanfic #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare ii #teacher!reader #john price x afab!reader

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happy-beeeps · 7 months

Note

Hello there! My request is this: the reader wants to learn hand-to-hand combat but has a crush on Hunter and doesn’t know how to ask him. Omega helps the reader and the reader gets what she wants. On the first day of training she trips and lands on top of Hunter and fluff or smut happens. Up to you :)

hahahahaha heyyyyyy I'm so sorry this is so late. In good news, it got away from me and turned into 4k words of the softest smut I've written!!! I am in love with this man!!!!

(also if you're asking yourself if I was inspired by the top gun volleyball scene the answer is yes I was and no I won't apologize for it.)

Take My Breath Away

pairing: Hunter x f!reader

WC: 4k

MINORS DNI 18+ BELOW CUT

Warnings: p in v sex, fingering, first time, feelings confession, awkward reader

Summary: When Omega convinces Hunter to finally train you in combat, things don't go to plan... or do they?

You’re leering, you know it. You really can’t help it, your spot inside the Marauder has left you with a perfectly obscured view to watch the training exercises happening outside. There’s a box of medical supplies in your lap while you stare through the front viewport, watching Hunter and Tech team up against Echo and Wrecker as they practice hand-to-hand perfectly in your view.

Hunter has long forgone his long sleeve black shirt, his tattoos on full display as his skin bakes in the sun. It is hot, you supposed, but you assumed nearly every midday on Jakku got this warm. They’re all in various states of undress, grappling with each other with the kind of joyful fighting that reminds you of the village boys and their games back home.

Sweat beads roll off his chest in a slight pattern, and you can see through the viewport that he’s used his bandana as a makeshift tie, pulling his hair up into some kind of knot on the top of his head. Echo has gotten Tech into some kind of hold, and the latter is thrashing against him trying to wiggle his way out. Hunter, however, is practically glistening as he shoots Wrecker a grin while they circle one another, until his legs push against the coarse sand outside and he lunges for his younger brother’s legs. He must’ve gotten Wreck with an element of surprise because the larger clone actually tumbles a bit, his center of gravity thrown off. You can’t hear them from inside the ship, but from the looks on their faces you can tell they’re laughing. Echo seems to have succeeded in locking Tech down, and the four of them exchange shakes and smirks–and move to repeat the game.

Happiness looks good on him.

“Why are you watching Hunter again?” Omega’s small, but chipper, voice startles you from your daydream (something involving Hunter and his back that you’ll never tell.)

“Nothing! I’m not, not even watching him,” you stumble, trying desperately to make yourself look busy with the box in front of you. “I’ve gotta keep an eye on his injuries Meg, that's all.”

“But I thought you said he’d be better three rotations ago?”

She’s caught you now, and your face grows hot with the realization. “Well, yeah, of course. But still, as a medic, it’s my job to keep an eye on you all.”

You move to stand and ruffle her hair, toting the box on your hip as you move to go back to the med closet. You suppose you’ve done enough gawking for today.

“Are you red because you’re embarrassed about something?”

Now this makes you stop in your tracks. You whip your head to turn and face the young girl, who’s mouth smiles innocently at you while her eyes smirk knowingly. Kriff. You knew you shouldn't have let her start watching romcoms.

“I’m not embarrassed,” you start, still making your way to the closet while Omega follows closely behind. “I just don’t know any combat, so I’m watching to learn, it’s just embarrassing not to know.”

Nice. Good save. You’ll pat yourself on the back for that one later.

“Oh, that makes sense.” Is all you get from Omega, before you’re met with the sound of her feet moving down the walkway. You’re left alone with your thoughts, idylly shuffling supplies around the closet, delving back to your daydream. Minutes pass like this, in quiet peace, before a rough, masculine voice snaps you back to reality.

“Hey,” Hunter starts, leaning against the doorframe that separates the main cabin from the armory and med closet. He’s not shirtless anymore, instead wearing a mockingly thin white tank top that’s becoming less and less opaque the more his chest is pressed against it. “Omega said you wanted to learn some moves?”

Sure enough, Omega stands behind Hunter, arms crossed proudly as she looks between the two of you. “She’s important Hunter, she has to learn!” The younger girl shouts, and Hunter smiles down at her.

“Sure she is. That’s why I’m gonna teach her,” he looks up at you now with questioning eyes, “that is, if you’re interested? Tech is gonna bring Echo and Wrecker on a supply run for a few hours, so you don’t have to worry about them?”

“Y-yeah, that sounds great.” Maker, is that stumbling voice yours? This is getting worse by the minute.

“Hunter, can I go with? Tech said the market is no worse than Mos Eisley, and you let me go there, Wrecker already said he’d watch me!” Omega pleads with her big brother, pulling at his fingers in a subtle gesture to lead the two of you outdoors.

“Sure, Meg. If it’s fine with them, it’s fine with me.”

* * *

Your body aches, your joints cracking with each move. You’ve barely even begun the training, merely the warmups Hunter has put you through in this scorching heat has gotten you coated in your own layer of sweat. He moved through each warm up with ease, and finished his last stretch lazily, leaning his weight on his back leg and placing his hands firmly on his hips. It took nearly everything in you not to stare at him, his shirt back on but replaced by a mockingly thin white tank top that grew less opaque with every passing moment.

“Thought you said you wanted to learn?” His voice brought you back out of your daydream, reminding you exactly why you were standing here. You had gone this long without him really knowing your feelings, aside from the simple flirtation the two of you shared to pass the time. One afternoon wouldn’t kill you.

“Thought you said we’d start slow,” you grumble in reply, moving to face him with an agitated determination.

He doesn’t give you a verbal response, merely moving to stand behind you, placing his hands and your shoulders before reaching them across to grab your wrists. “I’m gonna put you in the first stance,” he says, moving his hands, and your wrists, up to a blocking motion before kicking one of his feet between your legs. With gentle, albeit rough, taps to each foot, your legs slowly shuffled wider apart, granting you more stability on the sandy terrain. The motion of him slowly spreading your legs open, however, had the complete opposite effect, and your stomach dropped nearly to your toes as your chest flutters with warmth. This was exactly why you hadn’t asked for help in the first place.

“Looks good,” he started, moving back to face you. “Now, when you punch, you’re not just pushing your fist out, right? You’re punching with your whole arm, try hitting my hand.”

“But, I don’t want to hurt you!” You sputtered, and his lazy, easy smile returned.

“Trust me, you won’t.”

You pass nearly an hour like this, moving to punch Hunter with as much force as you could muster, and him blocking you with ease. It’s not that you were weak by any means, you wouldn’t have lasted as the Batch’s medic if you were, but this kind of strength was foreign to you. You were slipping, growing more tired by the moment. Your punches slowly falter. Finally, as the heat and the exertion caught up to you, your legs followed the swing of your arm, sending you toppling your whole weight onto Hunter.

He too must’ve begun feeling the heat, as his normally subvert reflexes failed him. Your weight and his surprise sent the two of you toppling onto the sand, his arms reaching to cup your elbows, carefully guiding you to land on his chest. The sweat on both of your skin made the two of you sticky, and your thin shirt did little to hide the flush of your chest as you pressed against his toned body. Hunter also seemed to be responding to the moment, his eyes opening and closing rapidly, his chest rising and falling with increasing speed.

Maker. You hadn’t thought about how awful you must’ve smelled.

“I’m sorry Hunter, I’m sure I smell-“

“Great,” he gritted out, you assumed his tone was dripping in sarcasm. Your wince must not have garnered the response he was hoping for, and his eyes widened in panic. “No, no, I mean it. Kriff, that’s not what I meant.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s warm out here, don’t mention it,” you shook awkwardly, moving to push off of him. Instead, Hunter’s grip on the backs of your arms tightened to hold you in place.

“I mean it,” he murmurs, “you’ve been driving me crazy all day.”

You blink in surprise as that warm feeling from before returns, and you resist the urge to press yourself against him even further.

“What, just because I’m a slow learner?” you blush and shake your head, trying to hide your face from the intensity of his stare, and the overbearing Jakku sun.

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“That,” he removes one hand from its spot on your arm to tug your chin back at him, his eyes falling to your lips for the briefest moment before coming back to yours, “hide from me.”

Your response is quiet, timid. “Because you don’t mean it.”

“Why would you think that? We’ve kind of been toeing around it for weeks now.”

You’re sputtering now, “I thought you were joking.”

“I don’t joke when it comes to you,” something akin to hurt flashes across his eyes, and his grip on your arms loosens slightly. Kriff. You’re losing him now, and the panic that settles in your chest takes over before your brain can properly think its way out of it.

You’re fully pressing your breasts against him now, relenting the rest of your weight onto him as your arms snake their way to his face and you pull him towards you before he has a chance to feel any more hurt at your expense. Your lips crash to his in a kiss that’s equal parts full of reassurance and want, and he molds against you quickly. Whatever doubt and hurt he might’ve felt a moment ago is replaced by something darker, something needier.

Hunter adjusts you on top of him easily, pulling you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. When you pull away from the kiss you watch as he brings your legs tighter around his waist and, with little struggle, manages to stand up against the sand, never dropping you from your perch.

You try not to go faint at the way his leg muscles tense beneath the rolled up cuffs of his pants as he lifts the two of you from the ground with ease. Hunter has always been scrappy, never as much bulk as Wrecker but easily the second largest of his brothers. Echo used to joke that what he lacked in height he made up for in muscle mass.

You can’t stop yourself from leaning in to him, placing needy open mouth kisses along the curve of his neck, the sharp edges of his jaw. He groaned at your touch, his steps quickening towards the Marauder. There’s a break as he fidgets with the controls to lower the ramp and it starts its painstakingly slow descent. In a fit of impatience, Hunter has your back pressed against the side of the ship and moves to kiss you again, this time it’s bruising and impatient. He’s been wanting this just as long as you, you realize. Whatever the door the two of you just opened isn’t going to be easily shut.

He’s methodical with the way he kisses you, but his hands are anything but. He pulls teasing tugs at your lower lip, slowly parts your mouth with his tongue–like he’s testing something.

“Hunter,” you beg, turning your head from him in a feeble gesture to get him to notice that the ramp has lowered.

“I’ve just wanted to kiss you for so long,” he admits, a tenderness in his eyes that your stomach doing backflips, “I don’t think I can ever stop.”

He walks to the two of you up the ramp of the ship before setting you down gently in the hull. You’re staring up at him now, his hands resting on the small of your back, keeping you close.

“You tell me what’s too much cyar’ika. I’ll take whatever part of you you’ll give me.”

“All, all of me. I’m not afraid.” You murmur, pressing yourself against him before leaning to loop your arms around his neck.

He meets you halfway to kiss you, albeit gentler than before, before turning you and moving you backwards with small steps. You know this ship like the back of your hand, even backwards and with your eyes closed, and you can tell from the way he’s moving you that you’re moving towards his quarters.

“We can go to my room?” You ask, breathless. They had graciously turned the small medbay into a space for your quarters, of sorts. You had a larger bed than any member of the batch, with the caveat that your roommates were small surgical machines and overflow boxes of bacta.

“No, want you in my bed, if that’s ok?”

You nodded while he continued to guide you towards the rest of the batch’s quarters, your vision becoming shaded from the darkness of the room. You were grateful now that Hunter’s bunk was on the bottom, as the backs of your legs bumped into the mattress.

He laid you down on the mattress and quickly stretched across you, giving you full freedom to remove your arms from his neck and let them roam against the broad expanse of his back. His kisses met your neck almost as soon as he settled on the mattress, and from the way his teeth nipped at the soft skin, you knew you’d be littered with marks.

Whatever. You’re sure they’d pick up on it eventually.

Your thoughts were interrupted as Hunter pulled you up towards him, using the space to pull your shirt off and discard it on the floor, leaving you in the thin cottony breastband you’d picked specifically because it was too hot to even think about something better. You, in turn, pulled at the hem of the thin white tank top, and he smirked at you as he moved back, pulling it up over his head. There was enough space between the bunks for him to sit comfortably upright, and you moved forward to meet him, bringing his hands to your waist.

“It’s too hot for all these layers.”

If he was surprised he barely showed it, raising an eyebrow before moving to unfasten your breastband, leaving the two of you bare from the waist up.

“Mesh’la, I can’t… I can’t stop.”

“Then don’t.” You smiled, leaning back on his mattress, watching his form cage you in.

His response was immediate, falling closer to you and moving his kisses farther down your neck before moving to bring his mouth to your breast, now bare to him. His lips dragged over your newly exposed flesh, before his tongue flattened over the stiff peak of your nipple.

He wasted no time in palming your other breast, and the briefest glance you got of your skin beneath his inked fingers was enough to elicit the smallest of whimpers from your mouth. He paused from his work on your nipple to glance up at you, before sending a devilish grin as his hand removed itself from your chest and made small movements towards your thighs. With a quick and decisive movement he placed his hand just on the squishy flesh of your inner thigh, before hooking a finger around the seam of your panties and shifting them down.

You jostled a bit to help them come off and Hunter surged to kiss you again, his breath warm and inviting on your mouth. In an instant you let out a soft gasp as his fingers began to move towards your folds, before he slowly pushed two fingers into your heat.

The feeling of being filled in any capacity by him immediately sent warmth flooding to every corner of your body, and you bucked your hips against him as he moved his fingers in a delicious hooking motion, pulling you closer and closer to oblivion with each movement.

“So warm for me, so wet.” He grumbled against your neck, and your hands threaded through his hair, desperate to keep his body against yours.

“Hunter, need you, now.”

“Shh,” he murmured, moving faster, and a twisting in your feeling in your gut suddenly struck, along with the realization that you were quickly approaching an orgasm. “Come for me first, princess. Need to make you feel good first.”

His words and motions combined sent that first orgasm crashing over you fast, the tips of your fingers and the lower half of your body shaking in pleasure while he took his sweet time, coaxing every bit of your oblivion out of you in slow, melodic motions. When you had come back down to earth, he pulled his hand from you before bringing it to his mouth, bringing his fingers to his mouth and tasting you finally.

“Next time you’re finishing on my tongue,” he groaned, head thrown back. You took his momentary distraction to pull at the band of his boxers, already eyeing the deliciously thick silhouette of his hard length pressing against the fabric.

“Hunterrr,” you whined, leaning up and pressing kisses from his collarbone down his chest, before deciding you couldn’t take it anymore and plunging your hand into his boxers, running your hand up and down the velvety skin of his shaft. You paused at the tip, running your fingers over it and collecting the precum already leaking out.

“Need to learn some patience,” he groaned, before shifting to pull the last offending article of clothing off, and pressing you firmly, and softly to the mattress. With his boxers gone you could see him now. He was big, bigger than any man you’d been with before, and prettier too. The inky black markings of his tattoos led down his whole torso, pausing just at the start of his shaft. It was one of the few spots on his body where you could admire every inch of tanned, warm skin.

Hunter moved down to kiss you, this one sweet and short, running a hand down your core to collect some of the mess he’d already made of you, before running it along his length. He leaned back and looked at you, his eyes warming with a fondness that suddenly had you feeling more naked now than you had this entire time.

“You take my breath away,” he murmured in a voice dripping with an emotion you weren’t bold enough to try and name, before picking up one of your legs and easily tossing it over your shoulder. “You’ve been my dream this whole time. Wanna make sure you’re ready.”

“Hunter,” you paused, reaching a hand up to his cheek, “if you don’t fuck me now, I’m going to go catatonic.”

His laugh had your leg shaking, and he rolled his eyes, “remind me to fuck some manners into you next time.”

Without any more pretense you felt his tip surge past your walls, stretching you out deliciously and giving a sense of satisfaction greater than anything you’d felt before. He pushed farther before bottoming out and nudging just right against that spot you’d always struggled to reach. The same one that had you tossing one arm over your eyes and another grasping at nothing out of pure bliss. His name breathed past your lips like a prayer, and you felt him shiver a bit at it.

“Fuck, that’s my girl.” He moaned, starting his thrusts at a slow, manageable pace. You felt one of his hands slide up the sheets on his mattress before sliding and weaving his fingers between yours. “Don’t hide from me.” He whispered, and you brought your arm down, placing it firmly on the bicep he was using to support himself against you.

He felt fucking amazing. You had met a guy in an alley on Coruscant who tried to sell you deathsticks once, and you felt like you had to go back and tell him he was wrong. There had to be a better high. Being fucked into your pillows by Hunter while he held your hand and whispered to you had to be better. You weren’t a scientist (ok, maybe you were) but this had to be the best feeling a human being could feel.

Hunter’s pace quickened, and soon the cabin was filled with the sickeningly sweet sound of skin slapping against skin, his hips snapping against you. His senses must’ve made him perfectly attuned to how you were feeling, any shift in pleasure, any barely audible moan. His hand had removed itself from yours, instead holding your wrist and pressing you firmly into the bed in a move that felt more possessive and dominant than threatening.

“You’re mine.” You had moaned without realizing it, and his pace picked up again. A twisting, numbing feeling began to blossom in your core and Hunter brought your leg down, surging forward to kiss you as he fucked you farther into oblivion.

“You’re my girl, you’ve always been my girl.” He groaned into your neck before pulling back. “Just been waiting for you to realize it. I wanna hear you say it.”

“You’re mine, I’m yours.” You groaned, his hips bucking up and nudging again and again into that spot. His hand removed itself from your wrist and you used the newfound freedom to rake your hands down your back, sending moans of pleasure out of Hunter.

“I’m all yours princess,” he groaned, “so sweet, so soft for me. Fuck, so tight.”

His praise and words and breakneck speed had you hitting your orgasm like a brick wall, turning you from head to toe in a shivering, gasping mess as your walls clenched around him. You gripped his hair in a desperate attempt to tether yourself to something corporeal as he fucked you through it, his own pace becoming quick and sloppy.

“‘M close, where,” was all he was able to rasp out.

“In, ‘s okay.” Was the closest thing you had to a response. You’d tell him about your implant later.

In an instant, he was groaning into your neck, his hips slapping against yours sending you nearly into sensory overload, before you felt his warmth against you. For a moment after he barely moved, just breathed against you as if he couldn’t imagine this had actually happened. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, you running a hand along his back and through his hair as he pressed sweet kisses along your neck, likely trying to soften the purple marks you were certain he had left.

“Lemme get you cleaned up,” he whispered, as if careful not to scare the moment away. He pulled back from you slowly, before reaching to tug his pants back on and heading to the fresher. He was only gone for a few moments, returning with a warm, wet rag that he lovingly dashed between your legs and a pair of clean shorts from your quarters and one of his shirts.

“Thought you might want something comfortable.” He said as he passed it to you, and you quickly changed into it, relishing into how the shirt smelled so distinctly of him.

You moved to sit up but he toppled in bed next to you before you could. His bunk was small, barely enough space for the two of you, so he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest.

“Don’t go. Meant what I said.”

You blushed as you shimmied to turn your face to him. “Which part?”

“All of it. I’ve always wanted you. Not just for, you know,” he stumbled, seeming suddenly embarrassed.

“Sex?”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna complain about that part,” he winked, before pulling you into him again, resting his head on top of yours. “I want to… care for you. In every way. You really take my breath away, always have.” He pressed a kiss against your hair, and you pressed closer to him in return.

“Then you’ll have me. For as long as I’m here and then some.”

The two of you stayed like this into the night, wrapped up in each other’s arms, tangled limb to limb. Soon enough the lull of his heart had drifted you into sleep, and he did his best to shield you from the prying eyes and loud noises of the rest of the Batchers as they returned from the market, just as he swore to himself that he’d shield you from anything that threatened to take you from them, from him.

His girl he had said. And he had meant it.

#star wars #hunter bad batch #hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x you #hunter #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x you #tbb fic #tbb #the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #requests!

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be-my-ally · 4 months

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Snowballs and Kisses

Hello darlings!! Merry Christmas! I hope everyone celebrating has a wonderful day, and everyone for whom it is a usual monday has a better than usual start to the week!!

I have been MIA the last few weeks on here, but never fear I have been busy behind the scenes and hopefully more things and fics will be finished very soon!! I cannot wait for my little new year break, and *finally* catching up on all the stuff I've missed!! In the meantime as a ittle teeny tiny Christmas gift please enjoy this timeskip for my Splashing Around ‘verse to Christmas Eve 1960 and my shameless OC self insert of what I’d like to gift Elvis.

a/n not totally accurate weather references: it didn’t actually snow in memphis in the latter half of 1959 but, this is fanfiction after all and it *was* very cold november 18th 1959. (I also cut a whole 4k of angst that will come out at some point as a separate chapter, Anita getting a poodle, and the colonel dressed as santa because honestly i just wanted to write and read fluff, but here's a warning that there may end up being more festive fics posted…a little late).

warnings: 18+, smut lite; gentle fingering and references to cumming in pants. UNEDITED

Graceland - December 1960

The excitement of having Elvis back at home for the festive season was only slightly tempered by the knowledge that it was his first Christmas at home without his mother. He’d not really tried to celebrate properly in Germany; sure they’d done the best they could, and he raved about the gift of a fully dressed tree for weeks, but it hadn’t been the same as it would have been at home.

This year though, Elvis seemed determined to restore the festive spirit. Perhaps even further than just restoration - an attempt to make it as bright and jolly as possible in response to both his mother’s passing, and missing the last two. He’d bragged to anyone who would listen about how excited he was to give out presents, his plans for even more lights than ever before; signs and lawn decorations.

While Louise was excited, it had left her in an almost constant state of anxiety, Christmas wasn’t just about the gift-giving… but it was a large enough part of it that it’s where her mind immediately went. From the moment he suggested they hang at Graceland that first year, from the first time they’d all pored over the letter to Frances, and his promises to “have a ball next Christmas”, giggling and whispering about what fun they were going to have the following year. From all of those times Louise had been preoccupied with what to get him and whether her secret plan was good enough for Elvis of all people.

That first year he had reiterated to them all and was absolutely adamant no-one needed to gift him anything and wouldn’t hear of anything being sent over to him. But his frequent calls and mentions of the upcoming holiday belied his actual feelings and besides, Louise wanted him to feel special. Wanted him to know they’d been thinking of him as much as he must have missed being home. It wasn’t until the 27th of November and the slightest of snowfalls had occurred, tiny little snowflakes, delicately falling down when the temperature had dropped just enough for the rain to crystallise when a flash of inspiration hit her. She couldn’t send it, so instead she’d waited patiently, adding to her bundle throughout the months. Now that it was almost time to give it though she was second-guessing that two year decision. Was it too juvenile? It’s just so tricky to buy for the man who literally has anything he could ever wish for. As the festive period hurtles on she resigns herself to having to hunt for a back-up gift…maybe a nice sweater. Maybe that will do. Or maybe it’s best to have options.

Elvis’ melancholia about the holiday doesn’t seem to stretch into Christmas Eve, and he encourages them with all the enthusiasm he’s ever had. The party starts from mid-afternoon and stretches long into the evening and night with all the makings of an excellent time from the music to the food until eventually they all find themselves around the extravagant tree to exchange presents. It’s a little chaotic, so many people about and frequently someone’s having to dive from room to room to fetch people or hidden gifts. Louise finds it almost dizzying when she finally manages to take a seat on the long sofa, catching her breath from being sent to find someone. She was already finding herself struggling to think whenever she glanced over at Elvis - he looked outrageously good in a white shirt, black trousers - well, he looked outrageously good all the time at the moment - but there was something about the feeling in the air of the day that made it all the harder to act natural around him. Elvis had been quiet for a moment, but now he was sat on his armchair across the room, looking for all the world like a king on a throne ready to bestow his generosity on the peasants. Except, that’s not the feeling in the room at all; it’s jolly and wonderful, picture perfect - all of them slightly tipsy on champagne and vodka cocktails and finding the evening all the more entertaining for it. He announces he wants to give the presents that he’s bought everyone before he opens his own, and Louise dips her eyes when he hands her a little bow-tied box. No-one else’s comes with a ribbon and she strokes it, feeling a glow emanating from her stomach and chest as she imagines his nimble fingers tying it on, totally ignoring the fact that she knows someone else probably wrapped it for him. Still, she tugs it off to hide from the others - not wanting to be teased about how such a little gesture has made her blush so strongly - and tucks it into her palm, fully intending on slipping it into her shoe or around her wrist in a moment, knowing she’ll keep it forever - wear it in her hair like a declaration.

When she looks back up everyone has a similar box and she opens it quickly in case they’re all the same - she doesn’t want to ruin her surprise. There, nestled in a little velvet box is a ring, a huge, gaudy red stone in the centre, almost too big for her finger. Louise is transfixed, staring at it, barely a thought in her head as she tries to wrap her head around the way it sparkles in the light. Despite the size of the gem, the band was more than a little small when she tries to slip it on, and she quietly puts it back into the box, not wanting to draw attention to her apparently larger than expected fingers. She glances around, suddenly coming out of her shocked obliviousness. Her face falling when she realises that everyone around her is unboxing similarly precious jewellery. She’s resigning herself to having to sneak it off to get it resized and hating herself a little for it, wondering if there are exercises she could do or maybe a special diet to shrink her fingers to size, when she suddenly realises all the other girls are turning each-other around, kissing Elvis on the cheek in thanks, or asking him to clasp their new necklaces. Louise looks back down at her box and the others. What does a ring mean? It’s been gifted with such casualness that it can’t possibly mean anything can it? When she looks back up Elvis is staring right at her, and she makes eye contact with him - her wide eyes meeting his laughing ones. He winks, and turns back to Red. She tries her best to distract herself from it, ooh and aahing over everyone else’s and keeping quiet about the little box clutched tight in her hand.

Half hour later Elvis is admiring his own little haul, when he catches her eye again,

“You forget about me Lou?” Louise cringes at being called out so publicly,

“Of course not!” She looks around the room, at the large group gathered there, “No, uh, why don’t you, well I’ve gotten you something else….It’s a sweater. It’s not great really, but I… your real gift I’ve made you, but,” She swallows building her courage, unsure why she’s so nervous suddenly when she’d been so excited for so long; the whole idea just seemed juvenile and silly now. “… you’ve gotta follow me for it.” He stares into her eyes for a second, before nodding and standing up, gesturing at her as if to say ‘lead the way’.

He grins at the boys when they walk out, making a salacious movement as if to suggest her gift may not be all too family-friendly to accompanying guffaws of laughter. She ignores it, even as her tummy churns; should she be offering that? Is that what he wants these days?

“Don’t laugh.” She asks nervously as they walk into the little pantry. Elvis looks bemused to find himself there, leaning against the wall of the tiny space

“I won’t” Louise nods, shutting the door, only to hear Elvis giggle, “You tryin’ to get me alone, doll?”

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

“One hell of a christmas present! to be locked in a cupboard with a pretty little gal.”

She rolls her eyes, wiggling past him to get to the freezer,

“Close your eyes.” He obediently does so, and she reaches into an old box of ice-cream to pull out a Tupperware, “Hold your hands out.” And she puts it in his cupped fingers, “Ok…open.” He blinks down at the Tupperware.

“Um. Well, thanks, I’m uh, sure this will be useful.” Louise rolls her eyes, impatiently tugging off the lid herself, “Oh.” Elvis goes silent, staring at the three perfect, teeny snowballs balanced in the tub. Each resting upon a little piece of paper with Louise’s very best cursive handwriting spelling out the date; December 12th 1958, 18th November 1959, and 20th December 1960.

The silence stretches as Elvis stares at the box, and Louise starts to ramble nervously, “I was starting to panic this year, but at least I’d thought to pick some up back in January — it snowed so heavy on the 5th. I think it was, or maybe the 15th? I’ll have to check my diary… so I mean it isn’t entirely accurate that it’s all from the 20th - but I mean, I had to have something and well I know how much you loved it when, when your mother… and I wanted you to know I’ve been thinkin’ of you non-stop while you were away. So, here, the first snow from the garden from every year you missed.” Elvis is still staring at the box, one finger poking each little round ball.

“This really snow from two years ago?”

“Uh-huh… I mean I don’t know what you’re gonna do with it now, but it really is… been in that box in the freezer this whole time…I hid it from everyone. Every time someone said they wanted some ice cream I panicked.”

“Lou.”

“‘M sorry this is really stupid, god - what are you gonna do with some snowballs, I should’ve gone in with the other girls, got you something really good… I just - well, I thought you’d like it and I know you misse-”

“Baby, I don’t, I don’t know what to say. I… I didn’t think anyone would think of me like this, like mama did, ever again. I - well, thank you, Lou darling, this is, well, its the best damn gift I’ve ever gotten.” He grabs her arm, tugging her to him - pressing a hard kiss to her forehead, the force of it surprising her. “I’m gonna show everyone - c’mon - quick before they melt.” He runs out of the kitchen, leaving Louise to follow meekly behind.

He shows them off like he’s a new father, proudly holding them up in the box, delicately picking one of them up and sighing at it, holding it up at the light for everyone to marvel at. It’s a little ridiculous in some ways - everyone in the room had been gifted something hugely lavish, and yet the thing everyone was talking and gossiping at was a snowball.

Hours later the party finally winds down enough that Louise realises she’s one of the last few stragglers of a night so late it’s turned into Christmas morning. How she’d ended up in this position she’ll never know, and she questions it herself as she stands quietly in the doorway, watching Elvis fumble on the piano. Just his fiddling is beautiful, little snippets of remembered carols, before he hammers onto the keys, singing along to Santa Claus is Back in Town. Louise can’t help the breathy gasp that escapes her and he looks up at her, smiling almost teasingly, perfect glint in his eye as he pauses for a second to run a hand through his hair before he continues for another verse and a half. He stops almost abruptly, standing up to stretch before turning to her. She’s trying to find the words to explain how beautiful it was, how perfect he sounds - how she can feel it throughout her whole being, but before she can express those sentiments he’s in front of her and grasping her hand.

“C’mon,” He tugs her over to the armchair he’d been sat in earlier in the evening, “Over here hon, that’s it - you’re the last.” Elvis throws himself onto the chair, holding onto her, pulling her stumbling body against his. “You’re the last of my girls left…” He sighs melodramatically and Louise giggles uncontrollably back at him. She’d had an illicit two glasses and a half of champagne earlier in the evening; Elvis had playfully wagged his finger at her as she’d accepted it from Red although she’d seen him have more than a few drinks himself. She can feel the bubbles still settling into her tummy and head, fuzzing her thoughts a little and making her giggly and affectionate. Still, she wasn’t so tipsy she couldn’t call out his overdramatic behaviour.

“They’ve just gone home for the night. They’ll be back tomorrow I’m sure.” She shakes her head. He ignores her, crying out,

“I’m all alone!” He tugs her by her elbow, catching her as she stumbles into his lap, pulling her onto him, flattening her wide skirt. It wasn’t really the fashion anymore but while she’d been momentarily hesitant about her holiday dress she wasn’t self-conscious, and she liked how it made her shape look. Some might suggest the bow and petticoats were juvenile, but it made her feel more adult than the tighter styles that were starting to become popular with her peers, more herself than playing dress-up.

She snuggles under his arm, head pillowed on his chest, cheeks pressed against the little buttons of his shirt. He pretends to choke at her hair brushing his nose, using his free hand to flatten it under his chin and she grins, shivering against him as his breath tickles her skin. They stay cuddled for a few moments, sinking into the kind of happy exhaustion that seems to only occur on holidays. It feels different than before, although Elvis is more similarly carefree than she’d seen him in a long time. He’d grown up a lot over the years she hadn’t seen him, or so it felt, and his adultness didn’t match the image of him playing and fooling around that she had in her head. It’s an awful feeling, she thinks, that even with him right there, surrounding her, she still longs for a little more of the playfulness of the past.

Suddenly though Elvis shifts, interrupting her thoughts and murmuring against the top of her head,

“Y’hear that?” Louise stops breathing, and all she can hear is the solid thump-thump of his heart against her ear, he waits a second but she can’t work out what he’s referring to and doesn’t respond, he gasps “There it is again! Do you hear it?”

Louise shakes her head against him, frowning a little, “No?” She tries really hard to listen out, but other than the faintest hint of the music from the boys in the other room she can’t hear a thing. “The music?”

“No! No, listen.” He puts his finger to his lips, shushing her,

“I really don’t hear anything Elvis.” He wraps his arm around her waist a little tighter, tugging her up so she was sat more upright on his knee, her face close to his. He whispers into her ear,

“I think I hear hooves…” Louise frowns,

“Hooves!?” God, it would be just her luck that he’d gone and bought her a horse or something, and she’d have to act grateful even though she was terrified of them.

“Mmhmm, that’s right.” His hand rises up to brush across her back gently, fingertips dancing around her side, “Hooves. Hooves and bells.” He pauses for dramatic effect, jabbing his finger into her side in a tickling poke. His voice dips lower, as his arm squeezes around her, “Someone must have been a good girl this year.”

Louise grins when she realises what he’s implying and couldn’t bring herself not to play along.

“…You think it’s Santa Claus?!”

“Hmm, definitely…who else would it be, on the roof with hooves and bells on Christmas eve?” She giggles, both in response to his kind-natured teasing and his fingers poking her side with an exaggerated motion.

“Oh, I wonder what he’ll leave in my stocking…” Elvis hums against her hair,

“Mmm. Coal.”

“Nooo!” She giggles back to him, “You just said I’ve been a good girl!”

“You’ve been a very good little girl.” His voice has hit that low pitch that immediately sends a jolt down her spine, right into the pit of her stomach and she swallows, trying to keep up with the joke.

“Well, I’m, uh, I’m sure I’ll like whatever it is.”

“Mmhmm….” His hand brushes up her leg, “Bet ya I’ll like what’s in your stockings more…”

“Elvis!” She shrieks, playfully batting his hand away, he pulls it off of her, smoothing down her skirt, and resting it onto her lap for a moment. Louise feels her breath catching as he presses a kiss to the side of her head, brushing her hair out of the way and shifting her on his thigh so that she’s facing him. It’s almost a struggle for her to meet his eyes, she felt so desperate for his attention - but there was nowhere else to look that made her feel any less heated. His hair, god even his eyebrows were Elvis-enough to make her squirm. It’s only a second of him kissing her jaw, before she’s gasping for him, and before she knows what she’s doing she’s grabbing his hand and shoving it back on her thigh.

She’d kept herself for him, even as it felt that she’d been playing before, doing it for someone who would never notice or care - ostensibly in general, but really if she was truthful - for him. She’d touched herself, hadn’t been able to resist the temptation, especially after his deep voice came through the phone - but the other boys, the boys in school, the ones with blue collar jobs and careers, had all lost their appeal whenever she imagined kissing them, and her imagination interposed the image and feeling of him, his slippery body in the pool, the feel of him in front of her on the bike. He was thinner now, even still, than he was before, puppy fat replaced with lean muscles. His face shape changed just the tiniest bit, perhaps unnoticeable to some, but so very obvious to her, cheekbones and chin more angular than before. But his lips feel the same as they did before he left, and since his return home - she’d expected they’d have lost their eager nature, but still she can feel the hint of desperation as he presses them against her jaw.

She gasps, rocking against him as he roves down her neck - a place no one else has ever touched, tiny points of pressure feeling like a heat was expanding across her neck and chest, matching the clench of her thighs. His hand gently strokes up her stockings before he hitches her up, capturing his mouth with hers and shoving her underlayers up to her waist in the abrupt movement. Louise moves with him, desperate to stay in contact with his lips and she moans in upset when he starts to pull away.

“C’mon baby,” He whispers, “C’mon, Lou-Lou let me - let me say thank you,” He’s barely audible as he speaks against her lips between pressing bruising kisses onto them, “I just - wanna, wanna make you feel good, Lou doll.” She gasps out her agreement, eyes falling closed and her head falling into his shoulder as his fingers find their way to rub against the silk of her underwear. He shifts her again, balancing her so she can rock against his thigh and his hand, whilst also rubbing her leg against his covered crotch. Louise is almost surprised at the heat of him against her thigh, but her curiosity has no chance to be satisfied when he hooks a finger under the leg band of her panties, totally distracting her from anything but the feel of him under her and attempting to stay somewhat upright. His finger feels softer than she’d imagined, and yet, in comparison to her own the pads feel foreign, rougher and surer than hers ever were sliding into the wetness they find there.

“God, you’re so soft baby, so fucking soft in here, perfect for me, you been waiting on me, honey?”

“Uh-huh, waited, waited so long for you Elvis - didn’t, I didn’t want anyone but you.” He groans in response, his fingers moving faster. Until he’s forced to stop, tangled in the fabric and he growls in frustration. Louise feels it go straight down her body, and her thighs clench, trapping his hand even more. He pauses for barely a second to manhandle her up, just enough to roughly tug her panties down enough that it’s now entirely her bare skin rubbing against his hand and clothed thigh, the fibres of his trousers almost giving her a friction burn with her rapid movements. He continues as he was a second earlier, but now with far easier access he’s able to swipe his fingers across her clit, taking her to the edge almost immediately. She has no idea if this was something he’s always done well, or if this is a trick he’d picked up while he was away, but whatever the reason she was grateful. She doesn’t even consider how they were still, essentially, in public, too distracted by his slender fingers to be concerned about her now partial nudity. The only noise to break up their combined breathy moans is the layers of of taffeta rustling between them, as she continues to rock against his thigh, but this all changes when he delves his thumb into her wetness, bringing it back up to stroke circles on her clit, gently but repeatedly running it over her.

“Oh, Elvis?” She cries out,

“What baby? You’re so - I can feel you’re close,” His own breathing is getting heavier, and he holds her steady with his other hand grasping her thigh while his thumb continues to stroke her,

“I don’t - I don’t…” She doesn’t even know what she’s trying to say, and before she manages to turn it into a complete sentence she’s shaking on him as she rides out her orgasm. He sees her through it, continuing to stroke her with the same pressure before rapidly shoving his hand down his own pants, roughly rubbing himself off to quick completion. She watches him closely, unable to do anything but stare as his own eyes slide closed, head falling back against the couch and mouth opening as he gasps out a high-pitched moan. It was about enough to make her shudder again against his thigh, the look on his face, his mussed hair, open collar and the noises of sheer pleasure. Louise finds herself bouncing on his chest as he breathes rapidly from the effort, and he holds her tight for a few moments while they both regain use of their limbs. Louise feels almost a little shell-shocked and she only really comes to her senses when Elvis shifts, wiping his hand on his trousers with a grimace and patting her thigh,

“Gosh that was, I, um, thank you El,” He grins at her, clearly pleased with his success, and he pats her leg again,

“Thank you, honey, for just about the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me earlier baby, it was just - I’m gonna treasure them snowballs forever, you’ll see.” She grins back at him before an unstoppable yawn takes over her face, “C’mon lil girl, time for bed.” She gulps, thinking about all the people on the house - worrying what will happen next,

“D’you…where am I gonna sleep?” Elvis frowns, little furrowed line marring his previously relaxed face,

“With me?”

“Oh,” Louise swallows, “Um, I think my parents will be expecting me - you know, Christmas morning’s all about -“

“Don’t worry honey, I’ll drop you home at the crack of dawn,” He winks, “-gotta make sure the house is all in order in any case anyway.” Elvis pauses, “Or, or you could invite your mama and pops over. They’d be more than welcome…nothing my mama liked more than a full house - especially at Christmas.” He’s looking at her with that earnest little boy expression again and it takes everything in her not to just suggest she should stay forever, it was so absurd that he’d want her to stay, instead of the other way around.

“Well…maybe I could stay. And, well, I mean, I could come over in the evening? If you swear you’ll make sure I get home in time -“ He’s quick to interject,

“Cross my heart darling,” She hums at him, and he motions the crossing of his heart across his chest, solemnly holding eye contact, “I swear.”

“Ok then, I’d love to stay.”

Somehow, and (despite his promises) to Louise’s surprise, she’s dutifully shaken awake and dropped off home, albeit not by Elvis himself, only a few very short hours later. Coming up the driveway of her childhood home it feels almost inconceivable that she should have spent the day and night how she has, and she wonders for a brief moment if she hadn’t knocked her head or something and just hallucinated the whole affair. She’s so in her thoughts that she doesn’t yet notice, as she traipses past the lounge and kitchen where she can hear her mother singing to quickly change, a new set of boxes under the Christmas tree. Elvis’ script on the gift tags declaring “To Louise, a very good girl, from Santa.”

taglist: (it's been so long that I've lost the list for this verse - lmk if you want to be added, or taken off!)

@lialocklear @ellie-24 @vintageshanny @thatbanditquee @lookingforrainbows @whositmcwhatsit @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain @peskybedtime @powerofelvis @dkayfixates @shakerattlescroll

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis smut #elvis fanfic #elvis x oc #be-my-ally #splashing around #elvis x louise

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wannaeatramyeon · 10 months

Note

To say I've had a horrible and frustrating week is an understatement. I really feel like crying. I don't even know of crying will be the right way to express my frustrations.

My lectures at the university are intentionally trying to frustrate us. What did we do to them?? Why are they so evil??? I almost cried in school because of how frustrated I was.

I can to ask for a fic about reader being comforted by Taehoon and Seongjoon (separately of course) because this is genuinely one of the things that can make me happy.

I hope you're not having a bad week or day as well ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Black Anon 🖤🐈‍⬛

Black Anon, I'm so sorry your ask came in but my well was running super dry for Taehoon and Seongjun (still is for the latter as you can see shortly). I know it's been a while. I have been thinking about this ask and you a lot and hopefully you're feeling better? Sometimes a good cry can be cathartic. I have my fingers crossed that the root cause will get better! If not just head down and grind out the rest of the uni years if that is what you're wanting to do. Gotta admit, I disliked academia too.

Comforting YOU hc: Seong Taehoon, Baek Seongjoon

Seong Taehoon

Senses your mood before you even need to open your mouth.

He's not one to try and say anything to make you feel better. Often he doesn't know what to say, and he wouldn't say any niceties he doesn't mean anyway.

Instead he pulls you into his arms, pressing the lengths of your body together and holding you tight.

It's like a very comforting blanket. He won't even tease you later if you cry on his shoulder.

Go on, snot on his clothes. It's fine, it'll wash out. It doesn't matter that it's his favourite t-shirt.

When you're feeling a bit better, he tries a little harder to make the rest of your day a bit better. Things you would usually ask him for but instead of puting up a little front as if you're inconveniencing him, he just does it.

In case all else fails, Taehoon is actually excellent at making you laugh with his bitchy attitude. Whispers into your ears about something mundane and stupid until it shocks you into laughter.

Or, you're so appalled with his comment, you can't help but give him a slap on the arm.

With that, your mood and heart lightens a little more.

Baek Seongjun

Whatever is on his calendar for the day, it's cleared. Don't even worry about him spending the day by your side. He wants to do this, ok?

A call from an assemblymen or from Jinho? Answers with the promises of calling them later. You're his main concern right now.

Will listen patiently if you want to vent, offer solutions to your problems if that's what you're after.

Or simply, he will just sit with you. Holding your hand, kissing your tears away.

Rough hands brushing away your tears, pressing his lips to your eyelids.

If you want a little escape, just a breather for a few days to escape reality, he is there by your side.

That NewTube video he had planned, the television appearance? He can reschedule.

Whatever and wherever you want to go, he'll follow and make sure you're ok.

Take as long as you need, you and him have all the time in the world.

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bside-cassette · 7 months

Text

This is both a love letter and a retelling of @fakecrfan 's Constructor/Architect story, but set in my own superhero universe. She has a specific identity in this, as unfortunately, you can't really have the reader *be* the main character in a visual format, but I hope that's okay with you :)

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My name is Na Su-Yung. Two years ago, I thought I was a normal person. Another mortal. Another drop in the ocean, looking up to the clouds. To the gods living amongst us. Until I found out that I'm nothing like the ocean around me. I was different. I was an Anomaly.

I was just a college kid in Cosmopolis, another normal human who was awestruck every time I saw The Guardsman zoom across the city, or see a news report of Nitrous' crime-fighting shenanigans in Sunset City, all the way on the other side of the U.S. Another fragile human being, merely made of flesh and bone and nothing else, that cheered each time The Vanguard came together to save the world.

When an attack on Cosmopolis by the villain Sergeant Steel destroyed the foundations of my apartment and others in my neighborhood, I thought I was gonna lose everything. That I was gonna die. I just accepted my fate as the floor began crumbling beneath me. To my surprise, however, it seemed that the entire building was frozen in time. I stopped it from falling. I gave other residents enough time to escape to a safer area. I was a hero, even if no one, not even I, knew what I had done.

I spent time exploring my abilities in my free time between lectures. I don't know why, but it took me months, nearly a year, to be able to control the same amount as I did when I first gained my powers. So I started small. I floated pebbles between my hands, then on a single hand, then I was able to attract them to my hands from a few meters away. For the first time in my 21 years of life, I didn't feel weak, or pathetic, or forgotten. For the first time, I felt like I could be more than myself. And so I did.

I'd go to places in Cosmopolis where Guardsman had recently done battle against one of his rogues. I'd studied architectural engineering thoroughly before going on my first outing, so I was able to reconstruct a lot of the buildings in a few weeks. Just the broad strokes, though. I couldn't get the electrical or water systems down, so I just left a lot of the buildings with hollow walls to let the actual electricians and plumbers do their work.

Still, no one gave a shit about me. I was just some rando in a washed-out CSU hoodie and sweatpants.

I eventually realized that I would probably be able to work better if I had the blueprints for the buildings. Just walking up to wherever they keep them and asking for them probably wouldn't work well, so I planned. Well, "planned" is glorifying it. I did the first thing that popped in my head: make a costume to get attention. And so I did.

I was never the artsy type, so I just bought a wetsuit and mask online. But it worked. After the metas had their fill of fighting, I'd arrive on the scene and start working. The bigger news reporters would keep their focus on Guardsman or Harddrive or whoever did the day-saving, but the smaller news organizations turned their focus to me. Knowledge of my presence was slowly increased, especially online. People on Reddit and Tumblr took to calling me either The Constructor or The Architect. I took up the latter.

One day, when even the larger news networks in Cosmopolis had turned their attention onto me, someone came up to me. She told me her name was Sandy and that she had a proposition. She'd be my manager, managing any relations or exchanges I don't have the time to deal with, and helping me with marketability. I took her up on her offer. She made me a new suit, talked to the city to get blueprints, and whatever else. It's been a while, I've forgotten a lot of what we did.

Hero teams contracted me to restore their headquarters, standalone heroes and vigilantes needed help with rebuilding their bases, cities wanted cheap labor. I did it all. I finally felt like I was contributing to society. That I mattered. I was finally told that I mattered. Until the day I chose to do what I knew was right.

Cosmopolis, despite what outsiders think it is, is just like any other city. One side of the city is covered in skyscrapers, the other in slums. Struggling people who can't escape their situations, whether that be out of discrimination, mental disabilities, mental illnesses, addiction, criminal affiliation, they all live with constant strife.

The worst part of it all, however, is that I'm just like everyone else. Every time I passed one on the street or from inside a cab, I looked away. Seeing them suffer under the city's hand tore out my soul. It didn't matter that my reasoning was different from those who averted their eyes out of spite or disgust, I still looked the other direction. I refused to be like them. To kick them while they're already down. So I started building them up, literally.

I'd scour throughout the city, look through sites listing run-down neighborhoods or buildings, and I'd go there. I'd tear them down and build them back up. I gave people places to stay, where they wouldn't go cold or without a bed for the night. I gave them the kindness that might help them stop simply surviving, and finally begin living.

Then the comments came. Middle and upper class began shouting their complaints online and in my face, whether personally or through a reporter. They hated seeing people, who they deemed "undesirable," getting any help. Giving some cash was already too much for them to handle, so I can see why they saw this in such a bad light. Why their hateful eyes had seen this as a sin.

I went to interviews and I kept trying to get my viewpoint out there. No one listened. No one cared. All they saw was filth getting help by more filth.

So I made shelters around the city in places no one would notice. Rooves out of land in the parks, more empathetic architecture. I removed the spikes underneath bridges that prevent people from getting shelter from the rain and made the benches softer for those who had no beds. But still, no one gave a shit. The city made laws against how much anyone could alter it. I gave up on that.

I was sent death threats. I was told that I was helping the scum grow. That I was making Cosmopolis shine less. It didn't help that Guardsman was comatose from a battle for nearly 6 months at that point. It meant I had no one, not even the hero of heroes, the embodiment of infinite kindness to everyone, to back me up. I was alone. I stopped everything. I pushed away everyone. I fired Sandy, apologizing every second of it. I basically disappeared from the face of the Earth.

Then I heard that they were building a stadium on the Southeast Side. Displacing hundreds of people. Their hope being snuffed out by the fat cats on the top of the totem pole. I wouldn't stand by it. I came as fast as I could and I tore it all down. Every beam and panel and every square inch was just rubble when I was finished.

M.I.R.A. was contacted after the cops weren't able to get me to stand down. They trapped me in an Akonite cell in Pandora's Box. The media labeled me as "a false hero," "a fallen angel," "a wolf in sheep's clothing," "a villain." I just wanted to make things better. With The Vanguard keeping their eyes on the larger threats, and each individual member focusing on the broad strokes that are their respective cities, there were barely any who were looking out for the little guy. That's all I wanted to be. The one to look out for the everyman, the people on the streets. My people. I wanted to take care of my neighbors, friends, and loved ones. But I guess all people care about are themselves.

I eventually found that Akonite didn't work on my powers. How or why, I don't know. Maybe it was because it was just another mineral. Maybe it just didn't have an effect on me. Either way, I knew that this wouldn't stop me. I'm The Architect. I'm a hero. I won't let corruption, greed, and cruelty hinder that. I'll dissent from the indifference. From the apathy. From the fear of helping my city.

#constructorverse #constructor #writingpracticetime #superhero #au character #from someone elses universe #but in mine #streetlight comics

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lunar-writes-things · 1 year

Text

It's Our Time

Pairing: C! Etho x Reader

Summary: In which you find out that he loves you as much as you love him

Genre: Fluff

Words: 1.9K

Extra notes: This was actually my first ever hermitcraft request. I messed it up last time so I redid it. Enjoy!

Content warnings (If any): Etho thinking hes not good enough for reader (Quickly disproven )

Etho.

A ninja in training.

And your best friend since season 3 of hermitcraft.

Granted he was off and on due to... Things but he was still the person you always looked forward to seeing each season even if he wasn't there or left early most of the seasons.

In season 8, You decided to room with Etho and Iskall, the latter supporting Etho's shopping addiction.

"Etho," You asked as they fixed up dinner for Iskall when he came up while Etho ate at the table "You can't keep forcing the poor man to go mining for diamonds for you."

"But the 'poor man' doesn't mind! He does it willingly!" Etho insisted playfully as he took of a bite of his steak "Why do you care so much, Y/n? Do you like him?"

His eyes were narrowed and shoulders much too tense for his usual body language and his voice dripped with non-lethal venom masked by a candy sweetness you had learned to look past. It was the first time he acted like this when it came to your person of interest and while he was usually so calm, cool, and collected, seeing this shocked you and reminded you of when you actually said yes to that question because you had thought you had fallen for the builder named Scar.

Etho had actually set up a date with him in season 4 for you. It was romantic, set in a beautiful flower field with some steak and vegetables but that day it rained and thundered and bees swarmed the two. It was a disaster but you genuinely know Etho didn't do it. He was so giddy to hear that you liked someone and when he heard the date went wrong he pouted in your arms as you reassured him it was okay and that it was probably for the best.

"I don't know. Scar was great but there wasn't that connection that I thought there was." You explained and ran a hair through his silver hair. It was still storming but instead of being distraught you felt content, especially with Etho in your arms

But that was years ago, over time you developed feelings for the silver-haired Ninja and it would be so embarrassing to reveal them like this.

So, you had two options.

Lie and Say yes

Say no and not elaborate on who it was.

"There's some hesitation!" Etho said, his smile strained as he got up and placed his plate in the sink before washing his hands and wrapping his arms around your shoulders "You like Iskall dont'cha?"

"No," Y/n replied immediately "And If I did like someone, you would be the first to know."

"I better," Etho smiled and buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath filtering through the thin mask of his and sending shivers down your spine "You're important to me. I need to know if my Y/n plans on dating someone."

before you could ask him what he meant by his Y/n, you were cut off by the third of your trio slamming the door open.

"I'm back!" Iskall called as he walked into the house and his eyes lit up at the smell of fresh and warm food "and there's food! Thank you Y/n!"

"Of course! Enjoy! Me and Etho already ate and I just served you so just give me your plate to clean." You grinned as Iskall came through the kitchen doorway before his eyes widened in surprise before they glimmered with something knowing as a smirk etched its way onto his face

"No, it's fine!" Iskall smiled "By the way, I need a few things. Can you and Etho get them? I've been in the mines for so long that I just need a shower before passing out."

"I'd be down!" You exclaim "Etho?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the masked man's expression change from... something to a soft smile when he notices you looking at him.

"Sure!" Etho smiled

Y/n watched as Iskall pressed a piece of Paper into Etho's hand and hugged him tightly. When the bearded man let go of the ninja, Etho's ears had flushed a pretty pink color and you instantly wonder why? What did the mischievous bearded man tell etho?

then he moved on to you

"Bye, Y/n." He hugged you and whispered in your ear "Good luck."

As confused as you were, etho pushed you out and turned to flip off Iskall who was laughing loudly at the ninja.

"What was that about Etho?" You asked softly and grabbed his hand before he can jump off the cliff to gain some air for his elytra

"Just Iskall being dumb," Etho said, a pout evident in his voice "Come on, He gave me some diamonds and we need some things fro the G-Train."

He made sure to look behind you and see you had your elytra on before he picked you up and jumped off with you in his arms. You let out a scream and clinged onto him.

Etho loved this.

Not you screaming in his ear but you clinging on to him like your life depended on it.

which it kinda does but still-

Etho's had a crush on you since he met you. Of course he never realized it until you went on that date with Scar when he realized the feeling of puking in his gut was jealousy. Then there was years of pining that came with it, longing glaces, disappointed sighs when you left the room and giddy squeals when you did something extra cute.

He loved you.

And he has for a while.

So for Iskall to come home and immediately ask for You and Etho to do something was fishy. He always finished his chores before he came home. It was only when Iskall gave him a hug and crushed a piece of paper in his hands did Etho finally know what Iskall was doing.

Confess to them before you come home. I'm tired of seeing the pining glances from you and them. it said and it made Etho blush. A rare occurrence that only you can do to him

"You little-" Etho began to whisper back before Iskall moved to you and he had to cut off his sentence.

and with all that he still took you to the G-train to find the 'things' Iskall needed. So while you browsed the fake list he gave you he gathered some food and random white-colored blanket and dye. He knew you hated white things getting dirty.

"Before we head back, and I know we just ate, but would you like to join me on a picnic?" Etho asked and turned with a soft smile

"I'd love that!" You responded, knowing your eyes lit up like a little kid on holidays.

Spending time alone with etho was frequent when he or you weren't working on anything so it wasn't anything special, but him asking if you didn't want to go home just yet made your heart flutter.

"Perfect," Even from under the mask you could see and hear the soft smile he had on his lips, and fondness shone in his eyes "Come on, I have the perfect place."

Etho lead you to a flower forest some hours away and began to set up, and while you insisted you help he denied all your offers and placed down the blanket he hastily dyed pink and that had dried out while he was flying before placing the basket of food he bought down and spreading it across the blanket and sat down before patting the spot next to him where you sat down.

"So, what's the special occasion?" You asked him as a joke and leaned your head on his shoulder as you took a bite of a golden carrot before offering him some

"You?" He said truthfully

"Me?" You asked back suddenly curious and sat up correctly to look at the male "Me? Why me?"

"Well- I- Uhm," Etho stumbled over his words not sure where to start

"Etho? What's going on?" You asked and crawled to be in front of him before cupping his face, which was warm. His cheeks were so warm and his eyes avoided looking at you and you could only wonder what he was gonna say but anxiety pooled in your gut. As he paused to find his words, you thought back to anything you might've done to piss him off since the beginning of the season

"Y/n," He finally said and ripped you away from your thoughts "I'm in love with you. I understand if you don't like me like that and if you hate me but I have to tell you. I fell in love with your eyes, the way you walk, the way you talk, your laugh, and how you hiccup after every time you eat. I fell in love with the builder who cleans my messy building style and who can watch me do and talk redstone for hours on end without falling asleep. I fell in love with my best friend. Y/n, I fell in love with you and I can only hope you can return my feelings."

His face was burning even more and now his cheeks matched the color of the shiny redstone he tinkers with.

And you? You were breathless

"Oh Etho," You cooed out softly and cup his face again "I'm in love with you too. I'm in love with the way your eyes shine like jewels, The way you cackle when a prank went your way, and how the moon shines upon you like your own personal spotlight. I'm in love with the crazy redstone ninja who pushes me to do everything I can even when I don't think I can, I fell in love with the person whos been by my side the longest anyone ever been. I fell in love with you Etho. And you are all I could ever ask for, So no I don't hate you and god I wish I had done this sooner."

"How long? Cause I've had this crush since season 3 and that's even before I knew." Etho said with a bashful smile "I don't think I old you because I thought I wasn't good enough for you. You deserve the best Y/n."

"Oh, Etho," You sighed and leaned in to press soft kisses to his face "To me, You are perfect. You have bewitched me with body, mind and soul, and void, I love you, I love you, I love you."

With that last 'I love you', You press a kiss to his lips over his mask

"And I will continue to love you, even when all the mortals have forgotten about us and we are nothing but stardust." You murmured against his masked lips

but after a second or so, there wasn't any piece of cloth in between their lips and slightly chapped lips met yours as Etho's hands cupped your face and tangled into your hair.

"Please be my partner. Please let me be by your side and I vow to fiercely love you in all your forms, now and forever." Etho pleaded against your lips, and his words had you in a chokehold

oh how you loved this man

"Yes, I thought that was obvious."

#hermitcraft #ethoslab #hc etho #etho x reader #etho slab #C! Etho #C!Etho x reader #luna has written #hermitshipping #x reader #fanfiction #oneshot

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sentientgopro · 3 months

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Aand that's 2 months today since cracking. No, I'm not gonna do one of these every month because nothing is really changing (and that's the problem).

The balance between "My future is gonna be great" and "My present fucking sucks" has gone from the former to the latter over this month, I've kinda fallen off the original high of "this is actually possible, I'm gonna make it", but I'd still say I'm doing better than before. But having to deal with dysphoria on a daily basis is certainly new and something I'm trying to adjust to.

But, every now and again, I remember, it's not a dream. It's not the fantasies I have when I lie awake at night. It's my future. Sometimes I forget that this idea of me transitioning is REAL. It will happen someday, for real. I remember that if all goes according to plan, all this will start NEXT YEAR. Next fucking year. And for a moment, I feel the same excitement I felt the first time I realised it was possible for me to be a girl.

To change the topic, I had an argument/ discussion with my mother over trans people for the first time since I cracked. She's reasonable enough to not get angry over me having different beliefs (unlike my father). She's not reasonable enough to realise how dumb the shit she says is.

And I just wish I could say things from the perspective I'm actually saying it from. Its all "apparently" and "people say" but I can never outright say THIS IS HOW I FEEL. Because thats the conversation were having, she just doesn't know it. And I explain dysphoria, explain her missunderstanding of it and where those missunderstandings come from, and she just says "Well I don't think its real. Atleast not most trans people, a tiny minority feel it, most just make it up."

And I just want to take the bloody gloves off and go off on her about just how very real it is because I, her very own "son", deal with it on a daily fucking basis. Not even that, it just never really goes away, I just find moments to distract myself. So you can piss off with that "its not real" bullshit.

But no, I'm here defending myself under the disguise of defending a type of person I supposedly "know nothing about and don't know the true experiences of".

One day I'm going to be forced into having this same argument, but with the gloves and mask off. And it's gonna suck, but when she says those words and states those dumbass beliefs, she's gonna KNOW shes saying it to her own daughter and not some unrelated 3rd party and I know that's gonna make it harder for her. good.

#196 #transgender #transfem #personal logs

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mamawasatesttube · 4 months

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hey, I have no idea if you're the correct person to ask this, but... my dude, how do you resist the urge to not re-write your fic 8,000 times to get it right. I have written so much the past month but I've started over and re-worked basically *everything* from the ground up like TWICE now and I'm. REALLY itching and fighting back the urge to do it again for a scene that could flow better, because this is supposed to be for a friend and I can't just leave them hanging for 3 months for one 10k chapter when I ALREADY HAVE IT WRITTEN 😭😭

i do have that urge a lot asdfhjdks i restarted "under the small fire of winter stars" about... 4 times? 3 or 4 times. so i do get it!! i eventually just kicked my own ass like okay stop bogging yourself down in perfectionism and just make something. perfection is all well and good to strive for, but in the end, it's way better to have something real.

SO if you want actual advice rather than just to vent about it, i think theres a couple components to consider:

a) what's driving your perfectionism? is it just a vague general feeling that something can be better, or are there specific things bothering you about the flow? if it's the latter, it may be worth taking a step back and examining your process. would outlining or planning more help you figure out the flow issues? would simply changing a few lines be more useful than a full rewrite? or is it the general malaise of "i've been looking at this for too long"?

b) what do you realistically think you can fix? once you've figured out what is driving the feeling, you can think about how to actually tackle it. the key word here is "realistically" - part of why i restarted "small fires" so many times is that i had to keep downsizing from my original outlined plans, which means i was cutting scenes and reworking my outline into something more manageable for the timeframe i was working in. other ideas might be sitting down to make a detailed outline if you're just struggling with things feeling choppy, or trying to trim certain segments, or experimenting with your narrator. many options to think about!

and of course i cannot understate the value of taking a clean good old fashioned break. sometimes you really have just been looking at your work for too long. try going a day or two without looking at it at all and see if that improves the reading experience, too!

#answers #barbitchian

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benkyoutobentou · 30 days

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31 Days of Productivity Reading: Day twenty seven

Before: I don't plan on going anywhere today, so I think I'm going to try to get in a bit more reading today than I have been. I will read an entire volume of manga today, because I know I can. I feel like when you open the fridge because you're hungry but you just don't know what to eat... Do I want to start something new or continue on with a series I've already started? Since I'm reading 憎らしい彼, which is a BL, I'm thinking that I should pick up a GL manga...

After: I was torn between continuing on with きのう何食べた？ and starting ロンリーガールに逆らえない but ended up deciding on the latter. Picking it up was a bit of vindication, but also things started to make sense. I couldn't quite figure out why my manga reading times were so much higher than I was used to, then I opened this volume. Everything is just so big compared to something like ベルサイユのばら or even ３月のライオン. Of course there are less words per page, but there are also less panels per page. I'm definitely seeing now what I was talking about a few updates ago with how manga has just gotten bigger in general with more people reading on their phones as opposed to physical magazines.

It finally happened.... I went to stop my timer only to realize that I never started it in the first place. It was stopped at 47 minutes, though, so I'm guesstimating that I read for about an hour. I think I'll just restart the timer for any more reading I do today. But I finished the volume! This volume had 165 pages, so with an extremely rough approximation, my reading pace was around 2.75 pages per minute. If I were to amend that, I would say that my actual reading pace might have been a bit slower.

I don't really have any strong feelings for the series after the first volume, but it did keep me interested enough to make me want to continue on with the series. That probably has a lot to do with the fact that it felt so short, so I just mainly want some time to get to know the characters better and see their relationship develop. We started to scratch a bit of that surface in this volume, but it needs to steep, like a fine tea.

I was planning on reading a bit more before bed, but I think I'd rather go to bed a bit early and stick with the reading I've already done for the day. Tomorrow, I'll continue on with 憎らしい彼 for sure and possibly pick up another volume of ロンリーガールに逆らえない.

#benkyou posting #langblr #studyblr #language learning #polyglot #booklr #30 days of productivity

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marzipan-memories · 2 months

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Alrighty~, in a way this post feels slightly overdue, but-- seeing as i have plans for a few of the blogs listed over on my blog roll, i thought it might be fitting to post a status page of sorts-- at least until i'm able to update some things over on the sorting blog for them. And with that said, please check below the cut for the blog list and their status~♡

{𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆}

@take-ya-to-the-ghey-bar

{𝒔𝒆𝒎𝒊 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆}

@rain-filled-garden

{𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒕𝒚}

@virtualized-vocalists

@marionnettiste-de-la-mort -⋄- Muse has been partly rehomed to rain-filled-garden, and as such the fate of this blog is currently undecided

{𝒉𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒔}

@muddled-ambiguum -⋄- Currently awaiting the translation/publication of more source material, so as to gain a better understanding of the muse before i endeavor to actually write them

@burlesque-grin -⋄- Blog is currently in the midst of a revamp, with plans to resume at least low amounts of activity once said revamp is complete~

@tenrai-no-ame -⋄- Muse levels are currently below the basement-- however, if i reread the series sometime soon and can boost muse, then hopefully low levels of activity might resume--

@eques-vitreum -⋄- I currently have no muse to write here, but-- given my love for the series, i'd like to perhaps pick up at least a little activity here again at some point

@blank-among-fairytales -⋄- I also currently has no muse to write here, along with low interest in the fandom-- however, given that i do still rather enjoy the muse i've made here-- then i may attempt a slight return someday

{𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔}

lykofxs -⋄- Major wip as i still need to brainstorm ideas for my portrayal here, however, which although it's proving to be slow work-- i have no plans to abandon the prospect~

fumei-no-yasoku -⋄- Major wip, however seeing i'm currently revisiting the series-- i have hopes to brainstorm portrayal ideas, and finish constructing the blog at somewhat soon~

saihate-no-l -⋄- Semi-major wip, information is somewhat compete-- but i need to revisit source materials before i can refresh on my portrayal and interpretation ideas before i can resume construction work

re-miau-kable -⋄- Same situation as the blog above, although the information is in need of a share more work-- seeing as i've got less of it completed

{𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓}

These blogs have largely all been lost to the ether, thanks to my (not so great) past management of log in info-- and my plans of what to do with them, are shall be detailed below

kumori-no-hakuchuumu -⋄- May attempt future recovery and update of the email address/other log in, and if that fails, i may just remake the blog from scratch-- or i may just skip straight to the latter, if i deem it easier

@hushed-court -⋄- May attempt future recovery and update of the email address/other log in-- but more than likely, i'll just remake the blog as a side blog connected to burlesque-grin

@quietly-blooming -⋄- Side blog which was connected to another blog listed here-- i have little plans to remake it, however, unless a revisit to source material sparks the urge

@utautai-no-neko -⋄- I think i'd like to remake this blog someday, assuming i can't recall/recover the email used for it-- although that idea will be saved for a time after i'm able to fresh on the source material

@graceful-days -⋄- I plan to remake this blog, assuming i'm unable to recover the email, once i've made a revisit to the source material (and played new parts of it i've yet to see)

lunar-zenith -⋄- A work in progress that was halted thanks to email loss, I plan to remake this blog, once i've made a revisit to the source material (and played new parts of it i've yet to see)

wanderer-of-fates -⋄- Same story and plan of action as the above~

enigmatic-ailurophilist -⋄- Same story and plan of action as the above~

@nox-occupat-corvo -⋄- I have little plan to try and recover or remake this blog, which may possibly change in the future-- but for now, i haven't the desire to try and pick this muse up again

@social-null -⋄- Mainly the same story as above, although my desire to try and pick this muse up again may be even lower--

#♡{Admin Post}♡#i've also got a few extra plans to make at least one more new blog-- at least new as in it's not just a remake XD #but once i do that-- then i think i'll be done with full on new blog additions-- at least for a little while lol

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nerdnag · 1 year

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How much do you plot out your stories before you write them?

More than I used to!

Up until maybe 2019 I almost never plotted out stories beforehand. Therefore I have a LOT of started docs saved with little random ideas: some of which never became more than a page, some of which went haywire after a while and never recovered. And there are some entire "books" or fics that were completely improvised as I wrote them. That used to be how I wrote when I wrote for my own enjoyment only.

I tried my hand on an overarching structure for an original work back in 2017/18, but that was probably my real first planning for any story I'd ever written.

And then I think it was @alienducky who really got me into plotting and got me stuck on it for real. We worked on a fic together, and it would have been practically impossible to do that without some kind of joint plan. I remember she started a table at the top of the doc where she listed all the scenes, and I was like yeah, that's a good idea, and it was. After that I started plotting out my own fics in a similar manner too, and now I never want to go back to how I did it before. The stories just turn out so much better when I know where I'm going from the beginning. But I plot in a way that still lets me be creative with the plot along the way.

So this is how I do it nowadays:

Scribble any little initial idea I have - sometimes in a single sentence, sometimes in a paragraph, sometimes in random loose sentences here and there that only make sense to me.

Place the bits I know I want into some kind of organised scene structure - if I don't already know which order things will happen in, I'll get a first sketch on that now. I usually structure this into actual chapter titles (placeholder titles that just give me an idea of what the scene is about) so that step 5 becomes a bit easier later.

Loosely figure out what kind of ending I want - just so I have something to aim for. Usually I have two large threads going and then a number of subthreads; the main threads (like a fantasy conflict or a romantic struggle) have to be clearly solved at the end imo, but some of the subthreads can be more loosely handled. At this point in the process though it's all just a rough sketch.

Slowly fit more pieces I want into the puzzle - any scenes that are necessary to bring me to the end somehow, or even scenes that bring me joy to think about, as long as they don't stray too far from the main threads. I also make sure to always add in early on which pov I think I want for every scene.

When I have a beginning, an end, and a number of scenes that seem to coherently bring me from one to the other, I start fleshing out parts. This usually means that I start writing bits and pieces here and there. Often I wrote the first handful of chapter first before I go on to the rest of the story, so I have a basic idea for myself of what the characters want and how they should be acting. But after the first few chapters, I usually jump from scene to scene depending on what mood I am in and what feels more joyful at any point in time. So I might write half a scene in chapter 7 one day to then write an entire chapter 22 the next day, only to then jot down a few paragraphs into chapter 16 after that. (This is my adhd working, I let it because it's worked out pretty well for me so far.)

Along the way I may come up with new ideas and adjust things, I flesh out scenes that were very barebone in the beginning, I solve and change things that turned out not to work, and when I reach the latter chapters that I wrote early on (for example ch 22, if I wrote that straight after ch 7), I'll usually have changed enough things that I need to rewrite large parts of that chapter. That is fine by me, it's all part of the process.

I should also add that if I've started posting it on for example Ao3 along the way, I sometimes - very rarely, but it happens - adjust my plans depending on what people comment. This is usually only if someone comments something that is so genius or otherwise so perfectly natural for the story that I just cannot let it go by without doing something with it, and only if it fits into the plot somehow. One example of this is when I noticed that several people were suspecting a particular character of having hidden motives. Up until that point I hadn't planned on doing much at all with that character, but when I realized that what I'd already written was leading very naturally to their conclusion, I decided to give that character more space from there on out and even played into the whole hidden agenda idea (but with a twist). That kind of thing can be really fun to do, but I don't do it if I don't think it will work for the plot I already have.

There have also been occasions where conversations with @alienducky have led me to change things in similar ways. One example of this is when I sent her a first overarching plot of my entire then upcoming fic series back in... 2020 I think? And she's great with noticing details, so she asked me how the characters would be able to send letters to each other if they didn't know where the other person was. I told her there was a magically enhanced wolf in there that would be used to bring letters back and forth. She was so into the idea of this wolf, and asked what would happen to it later in the story, that I simply had to make it part of the main cast, and in the end it even played a very important part in a reveal down the line. XD Throwaway details that grow larger like that are also very fun.

Omg I actually found our old convo from back then, I can't not add it in here.

TLDR; I plot out an overarching story with beginning, end and bits and pieces in-between, then adjust as I go.

#Ask a nerd #This answer got away from me #But I love talking about this!#Writing

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jacenbren · 4 months

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2 tag memes

Got tagged in these by @dragonofeternal and I’m more than happy to play along!!

Current things tag meme

3 ships: Inumaki Toge/Okkotsu Yuuta; Legato Bluesummers/Millions Knives; Kai Smith/Zane Julien

Last song: Your Best American Girl by Mitski

Currently reading: the Jujutsu Kaisen manga. against my own better judgement.

Currently watching: working my way through rewatching Supernatural and Death Note. the former is a lot lamer than I remember and the latter is a lot goofier than I remember.

Last movie: Annihilation!! I love that movie and rewatch it from time to time, however I made the mistake of watching it while on a redeye to San Franciso and dozed off halfway through. had a nightmare of That Goddamn Bear chasing me. bad plan.

Currently consuming: fuck I forgot to eat breakfast today. I will make up for it by eating an entire box of cherry tomatoes.

Currently craving: I would kill for some donuts right about now lol

15 people 15 questions tag me

Are you named after anyone? Yes actually! My legal name is based on the name of a band my dad likes, and I stole my chosen name off of a character from the Star Wars EU.

When was the last time you cried? While I was traveling a week ago; I got really overstimulated and exhausted while off my ass on Nyquil and had a meltdown :(

Do you have kids? Nope I am nineteen and not at all mentally healthy enough to be emotionally there for a child. am currently hoping to remove the baby making bits asap.

What sports do you play/have you played? I ran cross-country for about seven years (all the way through both middle school and high school) and got my varsity letter my senior year! I also did track & field for a few years (my events were long jump and 100-meters) and to this day I still go on jogs during the summer.

Do you use sarcasm? I am very autistic so my ability to discern tone is. not great. apparently I use sarcasm a lot without meaning to lmao

What’s the first thing you notice about people? Probably their voice tbh

What’s your eye color? Blue. like apparently scarily blue. fucking satoru gojo dayglow freaky ass cerulean orbs.

Scary movies or happy endings? It wildly depends on the genre and my attachment to the characters. I'm much more of a psychological horror guy rather than an enjoyer of slasher films, so I definitely tend to prefer horror literature than movies. as for happy endings?? I definitely enjoy them when I'm looking for escapism, but unhappy/bittersweet endings definitely still have special a place in my heart.

Any talents? I'm really good at driving and I have perfect pitch!

Where were you born? Anchorage Alaska, born and raised :)

What are your hobbies? I'm a big writer, and I occasionally dabble in drawing. I'm really into Stardew Valley at the moment and I've racked up over 200 hours at this point in just one save file. I am falling hopelessly for Sebastian but I feel too guilty to divorce my current husband Elliot. help.

Do you have any pets? Yep, a cat named Ekko and a dog named George. No the dog isn't named after GeorgeNotFound. My dad named him after George Costanza from Seinfeld.

How tall are you? 5'6"

Favorite subject in school? I was always really into history and would meticulously take notes to the point where I could've probably taught the class myself. however autistic gifted kid burnout hit halfway through high school and I barely graduated after sleeping through most of my classes lmao.

Dream job? Any job where I can put some music on and just Do Tasks all day. I worked tourism over the summer (hated that job and I never want to go back) and spent half of it hiding in the back room putting stickers on merchandise. I Love Boring Menial Tasks.

anyway tagging @mellointheory @hecksee @apollos-boyfriend @setsuntamew @acewendino @wigglesforsquiggles @siryyeet @routeriver @versaphile @avitus-ostrander !! feel free to join in if you like; no pressure :D

#long post #tag game #jacen writes #jacen overshares

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various-things · 4 months

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This is a little retrospective on things I made in 2023

Fic and video edits (mostly the latter, not counting clip compilations). Because slow progress is progress and it's nice to look at it all together. Putting this under a readmore since it's going to be long.

Video edits:

January: Julian x Garak: I Wanna Be Yours (Star Trek: DS9) This was a very simple edit I made in like a day (most complex edits take me a very long time; I'm a slow editor). The song doesn't fit my headcanon for them very strongly but it was fun, I'm just gonna quote part of what what I said in the description on YT "I really enjoy moments in my edits/making edits that focus on where characters get to kind of exist in contexts/settings/we can spend some time as a viewer in the moment with them." March: A lot of these I was working on wellll before March, the two succession vids are based on S3 stuff. Kendall Roy: Elijah (Succession) (mind the content warnings on this one) I actually think this is one of the best edits I've ever made and I'm quite proud of it overall. I would have liked to have done a better job of balancing the audio of Kendall's dialogue but otherwise I'm really pleased with it. Julian x Garak: Stay Soft (Star Trek: DS9) First finished more-complex garashir edit! I'm overall pretty happy with it. ✨🪩 pain 🪩 ✨ Roman Roy: The Metronome (Succession) (mind the content warnings) Quite happy with this one as well. I think a big reason that I tend to like my Succession edits so much (I think they're probably my best work) is just how good the cinematography of the show is and how much I vibe with it. April: Julian x Garak: Plans (Star Trek: DS9) (mind the cws) Bloc Party <3 Quoting how I described it in the tumblr post "I’ve got like a lot of thoughts about it but it’s broadly about like… violence and sacrifice and what people are capable of, ways people misunderstand Julian, and Garak and Julian’s friendship." I missed a frame of a following shot at one point, alas, but this was a fun very-dense with dialogue and lyrics one. June:

Tom x Shiv: Heat Lightning (Succession) More Mitski! (I have two other DS9 Mitski WIPs also) Like the quote above where I mention characters existing in contexts and settings, this really feels like a peak of me doing that for me, it's mostly them sitting/lying down/standing quietly and not being happy. Also did some juxtaposition against shots without people in it. Quite pleased with it.

August: Shax fancam (Good Omens) I did this in Final cut and Oh the effort into making those transitions happen. Here's the version on tiktok but I uh... the captions did not turn out well but they are synced to the audio. Aziraphale x Crowley: De Selby (1) (Good Omens) I made this one quite quickly as well, in under 2 days I think. Overall pretty happy with it except for the fact that I had a lot of trouble with the audio levels and I think re: overall structure of the edit that it lost some of its oomph towards the end, but I don't really know what I would have done differently with the latter. Some of the transitions in this were fairly complex and I'm mostly happy with them. The YouTube version unfortunately is pretty... artifact-y? November: I got Capcut sometime in the fall. Everything from here on out that I've posted this year has been made in that. Still vastly prefer Final Cut if I don't need fancy transitions, but harddrives and needing to update things etc. I'm also not putting anything else on YouTube until I finish my brightness edits. These two juxtaposition-y popular tiktok sound edits. (1) (2) (Star Trek: DS9) Quark bottom edit (18+) (Star Trek: DS9) - Very pleased with this. December: All of these were made pretty quickly (by my standards). a garashir edit to "Atlantis" by Seafret (Star Trek: DS9) Mostly made this out of wanting to finish something and the cuts feel a bit too fast for me but hey the act of creation! a short murder-y Garak phonk edit to BRODYAGA FUNK by Eternxlkz Mostly pleased with this. Still getting the hang of various transition things. a garashir edit to Placebo's "Running up that Hill" the text animation is kind of a mess (even on the version without the lyrics the captions are too big—I'm still figuring out caption size stuff re: what to choose) which is a shame, but I do like some of the clip timings (though some others don't quite work for me and I would have liked the cuts to have been a bit smoother in some places) and also hey made and finished something

Fic

Tuscany and New York (Succession) - [fic abandoned/not to be completed] Started this one and then chose not to finish it. However, one thing I was really enthused by was seeing part of an argument I wrote have a big parallel with what ended up in a scene on the actual show in S4. Felt very affirming re: my understanding of the characters.

with hope in your hands (Star Trek: DS9 [WIP] This is a fic I started as part of ectogeo's Garashir Wedding Registry. It's kind of a (mostly) Julian POV of the events in the continuity where ASIT/The Nexus/The Calling happened but it's also a reflection on some of Julian's closer relationships and where things related to marriage/possibilities of marriage came up within some of that. I'm currently almost done with chapter 4. 1: (Star Trek: DS9)

I think my lack of titles here and this standalone fic's place within a series probably has affected how likely folks are to read it but it's a short fic that is mostly Garak on the Defiant after it leaves Cardassia in Second Skin. Initially put most of this on tumblr but then properly put it on ao3.

2/3 ficlets for the rare pare ficlet game hellostuffedtiger made: Garak/Sloan, Julian/Picard

#video edits #fic

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sashimi-time · 1 year

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Completed BL Dramas Recommendations

So, I'm pretty picky about the types of BL dramas I watch. I've watched a lot, but I usually never end up really loving it, you know? I enjoy scenes here and there, so I decided to make a list of the ones I absolutely adored from beginning to end! Warning though, this is…a really short list. If you have any suggestions on BL movies/dramas, please share them!

2 Moons (2017) (Thai) - 12 Episodes

Plot (MDL): Wayo Panitchayasawad is a freshman at a university that is also attended by his long-time secret love, Phana Kongthanin, a second-year student. As the Campus Moon, Pha is extremely popular but he does not seem to enjoy popularity at all. When Yo becomes the Moon of his department, the two meet on a daily basis. Their relationship starts quite rough since Pha seems to pick on Yo, but things change.

Notes: This is actually my very first BL drama, so I guess it will always hold a special place in my heart. It was super light and cute. I loved it! I watched it with my mom (lols), and we both enjoyed it so much! I loved Phana and Wayo in this one. And the song. Mygoodness, the song. It will forever be stuck in my head (1~ 2~ 3~ 4~ 5~ I love you~). Actually, I really liked everyone here! The chemistry was great, the acting, and the friendships. <3 It actually has a 2019 remake (2 Moons 2), where the story progressed much farther than 2 Moons. In that one, I actually mostly enjoyed watching Kit and Ming. They were super cute. The chemistry between them was off the charts. I'd suggest 2 Moons 2 for those two alone. However, I didn't care much for Phana x Wayo in the remake. I liked it more when they weren't on the screen…sorry, but the other couples were way, way more interesting with better chemistry… So yes, I suggest 2 Moons (2017) if you want something light-hearted, fun, and short!

Semantic Error (2022) (Korean) - 8 Episodes

Plot (MDL): Chu Sang Woo is a junior computer science majoring student who prizes reason, rules, and a rigid sense of what is right above all else. As part of his university work, he is told to work on a group project for the liberal arts, whereby the group is required to make a final presentation in order to pass the module. But as the rest of the group – whom he knows nothing about – have decided to leave him to do all the work on his own, he decides to remove their names, and make the presentation in his name.

But little did he know that when he did this, he would deal a heavy blow to the academic prospects of a senior student named Jang Jae Young. The latter, a design major, is Chu Sang Woo’s polar opposite. He is stylish, fun-loving, and – above all – extraordinarily popular. He is the closest thing the college has to a superstar! But when his credit for the liberal arts project is taken away, his grand plans to study abroad are suddenly thrown up in the air. He seeks out Chu Sang Woo and is of a mind to torment him. But when the duo is forced to work together, a strange attraction starts to develop between them…

Notes: Oh. My. Gods. This drama.

I actually read the Manhwa of Semantic Error, so you have no idea how hyped I was to learn about the adaptation. AND IT DID NOT DISAPPOINT ME. o(≧∇≦o)

Everything about this short drama is great. I honestly believe it adapted the web novel really, really well! My friend and I watched it together, and we couldn't stop feeling all fluttery and screeching our hearts out after every episode! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ It very easily took the number 1 spot in my list for BL Dramas, no contest. And even though it was short, it didn't feel rushed, you know?

Other than the amazing (in my opinion) story (except for that really, really weird scene in French class. I didn't understand its purpose when I first watched (and rewatched mehehe) this drama, and I still don't understand it to this day), the actors and the acting! Mygoodness. I thought they casted them to a tee. Park Jae Chan is the perfect Cha Sang Woo, and of course, Park Seo Ham is the perfect Jang Jae Young. Don't even get me started on the chemistry between these two because booooooooooi. There would be sparks every time they were in a scene together. WHY ARE THEY SO CUTE TOGETHER?!?!?!? My heart. TT^TT

Other than the two adorable main characters, I absolutely loved the side characters as well! In my opinion, Choi Yu Na is an absolute queen, and I absolutely adore Ryu Ji Hye. Seriously, you can't hate anyone in this.

So if you haven't watched this yet, please, please do. You will not regret it. Just remembering the scenes from this drama makes me feel all fluttery. ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ HAHAHHA.

#bl drama #boys love series #semantic error the series #2 moons the series

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troius · 2 years

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As I hope you're aware, I've really enjoyed reading your thoughts on BLEACH during your reread! I was thinking today though: do you have a personal top 10 chapters or a favorite chapter [so far]? Totally okay if you don't want want to answer this, I was just curious.

No, thank you, that's a very good question! And an interesting one, since I don't tend to think of Bleach in terms of chapters. Unlike in anime, where the episodes have clear dividing lines with the openings and endings, manga chapters just sort of blend into one another when I'm reading them. Even during this reread, where the plan is to do roughly one chapter per day, I'm actually just posting my thoughts on interesting pages, so some chapters get more or less time depending on how much stuff catches the eye.

But I think it'd be an interesting exercise to see what chapters I do really like as isolated works of art! And if it encourages anybody to reread these chapters, or read them for the first time, so much the better! Troius's Top Ten Bleach Chapters (limited to those I've covered in this reread) under the cut.

34. Quincy Archer Hates You. A funny thing about looking at individual Bleach chapters is that they are clearly designed to run together, to keep the reader interested in what's going on so that they buy next week's copy of Weekly Shonen Jump. So they often are part of an ongoing storyline, and include several scenes, some of which are characterization and some of which advance the plot. This chapter, IMO, is the first one that does all of that and still feels "complete". Yes, it ends on the cliffhanger of Uryu's introduction, but that's the natural culmination of all the scenes in the chapter, including a really good one about low-stakes discrimination to set us up for the Quincy. Excellent stuff.

98. A Star and a Stray Dog. For once, Kubo uses one chapter to tell one story, end to end, and it's a tour de force. Granted, it's in the larger context of the Ichigo/Renji fight, and the Soul Society arc as a whole, but the entire Renji + Rukia relationship flashback is in this chapter, and it's magnificent. Renji starts the chapter as the closest thing Ichigo has to a rival, and by the end, Ichigo is the closest thing he has to an ally.

124. Crying Little People. This chapter title kinda sucks, and the title page is a pretty boring illustration of Ichigo, who doesn't even appear in the chapter proper. But as an Uryu stan I could not in good conscience leave off the moment where he sacrifices his powers and his childish aspirations for moral principle. The fathers-and-sons dynamics here are impeccable, and the Quincy worldbuilding flawless. I can't recommend it enough.

159. Long Way to Say Goodbye. It turns out that while single chapters often don't tell a complete story in Bleach, they do frequently tell one complete story, and that's the patented Bleach Characterization Flashback, where Kubo cuts away from the end of the fight to give you the backstory of whoever's fighting. In this chapter we get Soi Fon and Yoruichi's history, and it's incredibly effective once again in turning an antagonist into a sympathetic character.

168. Behind Me, Behind You. A complete change of gears -- the Byakuya/Ichigo fight wraps up in the previous chapter-- this is a complete information dump that nonetheless Extremely Works in getting the reader invested in the Hitsugaya/Matsumoto Spirit Detective plotline. Those two, Kira, Momo, Gin...none of these are the main characters of Bleach, but even if you didn't have strong emotions about them coming in you will once the chapter's over.

169. End of Hypnosis. This is just a run of killer chapters, and this one features both the start of the Matsumoto/Kira fight, as well as, uh, Aizen revealing himself. Now, obviously the latter is probably one of the more notable moments in all of Bleach (and maybe shonen manga in general), but what actually makes the chapter work is the taste of violence introduced in the opening, which is then tied to the Gin/Momo/Aizen stuff with just the briefest flashback-- one page! But it's essential to making the story cohesive, and to putting the appropriate focus on Gin, who would otherwise be overshadowed, I think.

171. End of Hypnosis3 (the Blue Fog). Okay, I promise I'll stop in a second. But I just cannot get over the pacing of this thing, starting with Unohana walking in on Aizen right as he finishes gutting Hitsugaya, and the tense standoff where Aizen reveals how he pulled it all off. And of course, that exposition is interwoven beautifully with the inevitable reveal that Tosen was in on the plot all along. When the chapter finally closes with the reminder that "oh yeah, Rukia was the target of all of Aizen's schemes" . . . it's magnificent. I don't know if anybody's ever paced anything better.

221. Eat the Worlds End. This chapter is just excellent when it comes to working with the existing concepts and characters to develop Ichigo’s character further-- and not in a good way! It’s basically Bleach’s version of inception, with Ichigo’s inner hollow letting Ichigo get the “victory” over him, while at the same time using the image and likeness of Kenpachi Zaraki to get Ichigo to embrace his “killer instict”. Really well done.

268. You Are Forbidden to Die. It’s another end-of-fight flashback chapter! This one might be the best though, as Rukia’s journey back into her memories to honor the Kaien she knew contains the thesis statement of the series as a whole, and makes for a very satisfying last couple of pages where she stabs Aaroniero in the face.

283. You don’t hurt anymore. The Grimmjow/Ichigo fight has so many layers to it, but what makes this chapter stand out is that it works independently of all that. You don’t have to know that Orihime’s concerns about Ichigo are extremely well grounded, or that Ichigo’s been fighting a massive battle about how much he should lean in to his dark side, or that Grimmjow is fighting in part because he’s scared about what he’ll feel if he doesn’t fight. The story the chapter tells in isolation-- of our hero being given the strength he needs to fight by the person he’s rescuing-- works well enough on its own.

#Bleach #Top Ten #Kubo's chapter titles are rarely defeated #(shout out crying little people because what the hell was that)#ask Troius

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