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elliesflower · 6 months

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victory lap [ellie williams]

pairing; f!reader x ellie

cw; rich!ellie, plus-sized female!reader, degradation (kinda), mean!ellie, vouyerism, semi-public masturbation(kinda?), ellie and reader are both perverted ngl

an; syd's comeback??? and it's smut?????? i've had this in my drafts since like may and finally got around to editing it so here you go. and i swear i'm working on chapter 8. and also please don't ask why i didn't pick a sexier sport. like basketball or something. i don't know either. ok bye.

for my sweet babies @coeurify @bambiesfics @addisonnie @seattlesellie

It was yet another blazing hot day at the country club, the sun’s sweltering rays kissing the backs of your legs as you bent down to retrieve a fallen golf ball from the bright green turf, careful not to bend straight over so that your panties would be on full display for anyone who dared to walk behind you. You readjusted the visor on your head upon standing, before you wiped a speck of excess dirt off the white plastic with a perfectly manicured finger before passing it off to Tommy Miller.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said, making sure to grab an unnecessary amount of your hand in his own as he took the ball. He winked at you before readjusting his own visor, and setting up the ball on the tee. After the first time you caddied for Tommy, he started requesting you by name. Of course, you knew it probably had a little something to do with the way you caught him staring at your full breasts that sat perfectly in your pink racerback, neckline so low everyone could watch the way small beads of sweat would dribble down your skin and disappear between your chest.

The truth is, you didn’t mind that Tommy was a little flirty with you, or even handsy sometimes, for that matter—for two reasons. The main one being, Tommy had money. Like, different car for each day of the week money. And his brother, Joel, somehow had even more, you’d reckoned from the times you’ve gotten to chat with him. They were always talking about what new business venture they’d invested in this week, or what extravagant trips they were taking next week. To the average person, it might sound snobby and pretentious—because well, it was—but around the club, it was normal. But you didn’t mind, because the more money your club members made, the more money they could put in your pocket. And you had bills to pay.

The second reason being, of course, you knew it wouldn’t get them anywhere. Not when you weren’t really into Tommy’s…type, if you will.

“Of course, Tommy,” you smiled warmly at him, before stepping back to stand in the shade of the golf cart as you watched him line up his shot. Just as he was all set up, swinging his arms behind him to take the shot, his phone began ringing loudly from his back pocket.

“Goddamn, piece ‘uh shit!” He exclaimed as the ringer clearly messed up his concentration. You had to hide your smile as he shot you an apologetic look before tucking the club under his arm and pulling out his phone to answer. The club was a little high and tight, with people talking like they’d just stepped off the set of an eighties classic film, but Tommy was a little…different. Coming from Texas, the money he’s made never quite washed away his potty mouth, nor his laid-back attitude.

“What is it Joel? Oh, you’re here?” Tommy glanced at you before dropping his gaze to the ground, rolling the golf ball around with his foot mindlessly. “Yeah, yeah. Okay. No, I’ll have her come pick you two up. Yep. Alright, see ya in a bit.”

You straightened up against the cart as he approached you, ready to do whatever it was he’d ask.

“Joel’s here?” You asked, sliding into the cart preemptively.

“Yeah, that sonuva bitch decided to stop by after all. Him and Ellie are waitin’ at the clubhouse, would you mind swingin’ to pick them up?”

“Ellie?” You cocked your head slightly, but slid through to the driver’s seat nonetheless.

“Ah, forgot you haven’t met ‘er yet,” Tommy said, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes trailed down to where your thick thighs spilled out onto the seat, your panties just barely covered by the white pleated golf skirt that rode up when you sat. You immediately averted your gaze, turning the key to the cart and feeling it rumble to life. “Ellie’s Joel’s daughter. I think she’s about your age…she’s great n’ all, honors student in college, yadda yadda…y’all might actually hit it off.”

“We’ll see about that,” you said playfully. If only he knew what he was actually implying to your sapphic brain. He just smirked at you, tapping the hood of the cart twice before walking back to the tee. “See ya in a bit,” he called over his shoulder as you drove away. You weren’t too far from the clubhouse, as Tommy had barely gotten started on his round, so it was a quick little drive over. The warm breeze tickled the baby hairs peeking from beneath your visor, and helped to cool the bare skin of your arms.

Joel was waiting for you in the cart-turnaround at the back of the clubhouse when you arrived, and gave you a little wave as you turned around the corner. You waved back, putting on your best smile and doe eyes as you pulled up in front of him standing alone with two golf club bags at his sides. He smiled politely when you came to a stop, jumping out quickly to retrieve his bags when he started trying to put them on the cart himself.

“Joel, you know you don’t have to worry about all that. Not when I’m around, at least.” You smirked at him as you picked up the two bags of heavy clubs with ease, loading them onto the back of the cart.

“C’mon now, I can’t even attempt to be a gentleman?” He joked, tipping his visor at you playfully. You giggled, exaggeratedly.

“Oh, but of course, Mr. Miller. My apologies.” You pretended to curtsey for him, just barely lifting the hem of your short skirt as to not completely expose yourself—but surely you didn’t miss the completely conspicuous way his eyes traveled down the expanse of your curves, from the way your breasts practically spilled from your tank top, to the small patch of exposed skin at your midriff, all the way down to the way your white skirt flowed as you crossed your legs. I mean, who wouldn’t look, honestly? He huffed out a laugh and you took that as your cue to slide back into the driver’s seat, and Joel leaned a strong arm against the roof of the cart.

“Tommy mentioned your daughter? Is she—”

“Ready, Dad?” You could only assume Ellie, his daughter, suddenly appeared behind Joel, effectively shutting you up and quite literally taking your breath away. You at least had the decency to choke quietly, using Joel’s surprise as an excuse to turn your head away, bringing your fist to your mouth for a moment as you cleared your throat and tried to regain your composure. You felt the cart dip to your right, so you turned back, expecting to see Joel sliding in next to you—but no, it just had to be his daughter. His beautiful, angelically-built daughter with a perfect smile and perfect jade eyes and somehow even more perfect hands, which she was using to grip the stability bar at the front of the cart as she slid in next to you.

You felt stunned, could do nothing but pathetically stare at her with your mouth slightly agape as you heard Joel’s phone ringing distantly, somewhere in the back of your mind, even though you knew he was sat right behind you. A half smile made the corner of Ellie’s lip twitch ever so slightly, but she looked away quickly, leaving you practically lusting at the sight of her side profile.

“You gonna take us to Tommy? Or just sit there and stare like you ain’t got nothin’ in your brain?” Her voice was like pure sex; rich and modulated, no real Southern accent like her father, but his vernacular had definitely rubbed off. It was really hard to not show that her words were heading straight to your lower half, your thighs pressing together just inconspicuously enough that you’d probably be able to play it off if she really noticed. You had to at least look embarrassed, averting your gaze so that you could turn the small engine over.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ellie. Tommy speaks very highly of you.” You chose to ignore her little comment, focusing instead on trying to treat Ellie just like every member you’d had the pleasure of serving.

And oh boy, would it be a pleasure to serve Ellie.

“M’sure he does,” Ellie all but laughed, leaning back so that her legs spread apart across the seat, her left knee getting dangerously close to your legs. You swallowed thickly, trying to watch the movement of her tattooed arm from your peripheral as she slung it over the back of the seat. You could tell it was a natural response, that she probably man-spreaded like this everywhere—but some sick and perverted part of your mind wanted to believe that she was doing it for you, that she wanted you to see her act so…

“Eyes on the fucking road, sweetheart,” she said, and it was quiet. But the weight of it made you nearly squeak—how long had you been looking over at her?—narrowly avoiding a decently-sized rock that would have gotten easily stuck in the small tires of the golf cart. “This your first day on the job or somethin’?”

And Ellie was so fucking casual with it. Like she hadn’t even meant to degrade you. You stammered a bit, and you swear you could feel her eyes burning a hole into the side of your face. Tommy appeared suddenly as you reached the small summit of the course hill, and all you could do was huff quietly as you approached, again choosing to ignore the way she taunted you like it was second nature. Luckily, she either didn’t hear or chose to ignore you, but she didn’t say another word as you pulled up near Tommy, just as he was taking a long swing with his driver.

“You see that shit, Joel?” He asked as he squinted out at the ball flying through the air with impressive speed. “Might actually beat ya this time, whatcha think?”

“Yeah, yeah, you just got a head start, that’s all.” You could hear the smile in Joel’s voice as you quickly jumped out of the cart and ran to grab his clubs for him, and Ellie’s, too. He was finishing up his phone call as he took the bag from you, giving you a small nod before you turned to face Ellie. Now that you were standing practically face to face, you had to stop yourself from looking her up and down. Or you at least had to find a way to be discreet about it…and that was one thing you were, was quick on your feet.

“These are some nice clubs,” you praised, using it as an excuse to look down at her, playing it off like you were examining them. Her feet were clad in an expensive pair of golfing shoes, her toned calves running into thighs covered in a simple, black, five inch inseam short. You gulped inconspicuously, as your eyes quickly moved past her crotch. Surely, you were hallucinating that…bulge.

“Aw, so you can be helpful when you wanna be,” Ellie snickered, taking the bag away from you with such quickness that your arm was left hovering in the air. You shook your head slightly as if to shake the thoughts away, and dared to look her in the eyes once more.

“I sure do try my best,” you said, and it wasn’t meant to be bratty, it really wasn’t—but Ellie’s smirk quickly soured, and she huffed and slung the bag over her shoulder.

“Get me some water, will you?” She jutted her chin toward the cooler attached to the back of the cart, and you could only nod, instantly following her blunt command like you were a puppet on her string. What was she doing to you?

Ellie wasn’t always an asshole, you see. No, no, society made her this way. Have you ever noticed how rich kids aren’t friends with the poor ones, or vice versa? It’s because they can never find any middle ground, no similarities, no common interests. The kids going to public school were happy with a day trip to the city as a vacation; meanwhile, Ellie was missing weeks of her prissy private school education to fly halfway around the world on a business trip with her dad.

And now, she was a rich girl going to a pretentious university. But she didn’t like the fact that people saw her this way: an asshole with her nose always pointing up; getting clocked as a rich girl as soon as anyone with eyes looked at the way she was dressed; never knowing if someone liked her for her, instead of just for her money. People were going to look at her and see ‘rich, pretentious asshole’ painted on her forehead no matter what—so why not embrace it? Why not put on this stupid little act that everyone else in her social class seemed to?

And that’s where the soul-sucking began, Ellie realized. That’s how the bratty, entitled kids from her high school ended up just like their evil, entitled parents. She didn’t want to be this way. It just…happened.

Nevertheless, Ellie pulled the Nike-swooshed visor off of her head for a moment to run her fingers through her reddish-brown tresses, trying to shake away the heat of the sun. You couldn’t help but to let your eyes linger on the way her tattooed arm flexed as she did so, nearly tripping over your own feet as you brought her a completely unnecessary plastic bottle full of water.

“You know, they make reusable water bottles, nowadays,” you blurted out, your sarcasm taking over momentarily, the heat nearly making you forget where you were. You were at work. Of course rich people don’t care about using plastic water bottles. Ellie raised a curious brow, perfectly groomed with a small scar parting the arch. She didn’t even have to say anything—she just stood there, giving you that…look, and your eyes widened in surprise. She snatched the water bottle from your hand with such force that you flinched, the plastic crinkling almost louder than the sound of Tommy and Joel’s banter.

“I’m sorry, Miss,” you found yourself saying, eyes immediately falling to the ground. As she took a swig of water, Ellie couldn’t help but to notice this, and file it away in her brain for another time—the way she didn’t even have to say anything to you, and you were already so…

submissive.

“Don’t call me Miss,” she said simply as she screwed the cap back on. You nodded, folding your hands together in front of you before looking back up to catch her gaze.

“Yes, Ellie,” and her name came out like a drawl naturally…swear. The syllables rolled off your tongue and straight to your lower half, took you to a place so heavenly—your panties were growing wetter by the second, the press of your plush thighs getting tighter as you watched her expression. Her eyes darkened momentarily (or did she just squint at the sun?), and her posture shifted (maybe she got a cramp?). It was like she was trying to read your mind, and you were pretty sure she practically could as you watched her pretty pink tongue dart out to catch the wetness that remained on her lips—you found yourself salivating at the sight, having to quite literally force your jaw to stay closed.

She was an asshole, sure—but that doesn’t mean you still don’t want to fuck her.

“My clubs?” Ellie broke you out of your little fantasy by invading your presence, so close you were suddenly overwhelmed. She had set her clubs down in front of her when she took a drink of water, and it was now suddenly your job to hand them to her. “Do we need to clean out your ears or somethin’? Jesus.” She was shaking her head, feigning disappointment, and you stammered. No, no, you’ve never had an unsatisfied member and you weren’t going to start now. Especially not with Ellie. You felt the urge to please her, go above and beyond and make sure she never had to lift a finger—but she was scoffing and reaching to grab her clubs before you could get out another word.

“No, no, no Mi-” You caught yourself before you made yet another embarrassing mistake. For the second time. “Ellie. My apologies, I’ll follow you.” It was a bit proper, maybe a bit much…but you had to make it up to her, you had to. Whatever it takes.

“I want my driver first. You do know which one that is, right?” And she was nasty, voice laced with venom as she called over her shoulder. When did she start walking away? And should your pussy be throbbing over that? You didn’t even respond as you lugged her bag over your shoulder, trailing behind her to catch up to Tommy and Joel. They were still bantering away when you approached, cursing and laughing and hitting each other, like brothers do.

“Look who finally made it,” Ellie’s eyes rolled when you caught up, so quickly you almost missed it. You were like, fifteen steps behind her, there’s no way that was called for. You stayed silent as you unloaded the clubs off your shoulder, doing your best not to show any hint of negative emotion on your face, propping the bag up before pulling Ellie’s driver out. It was long, and heavy, like all the other expensive ones you’ve seen. All of her clubs looked shiny, you noted, like she had either never used them, or just got them polished. Either of which could be possible, as you’d yet to see her play. She grabbed it from you hastily, and you felt that familiar throb beneath your skirt. Get a fucking grip.

“Gotcha’ all set up here, kiddo,” Joel said enthusiastically, and Ellie didn’t even fake a smile. So, you just watched her take the shot. Boy, did you watch her take the shot.

Watched the way she got so serious—okay, somehow more serious than before—the way she shuffled her feet behind the tee as she lined up her shot, the way her arms flexed and veins popped as she straightened out her arms, prepping to take the swing. The way she took a split second to glance back while she rotated her body to shoot you the most sickeningly devious wink before sending the ball flying across the course.

Tommy whistled and Joel offered a few strong claps.

You couldn’t be quite sure that you wouldn’t melt into a puddle right here in the middle of the course. What is it about Ellie, your favorite member’s niece, that was getting you so worked up? For fucks sake, golf isn’t even a sexy sport! It couldn’t have at least been basketball, or something a bit more…normal that did it for you?

Instead, you got Ellie, in all her glory. Strong calves turned away from you as she watched her ball cut through the air, higher and faster and better than you’d ever seen Tommy or Joel hit. Not that they’d ever admit that.

Your thoughts were getting dirtier by the minute as you watched Ellie play. You felt like a baby deer following her around the course, knees wobbling every time she barked another command at you.

“Um, my water, please?”

“I said five iron, not six.”

“My ball is dirty. What ‘er you even good for?

You were slipping by the minute, letting your eyes linger over her frame a little longer each time you glanced her way. No way she wasn’t catching on.

“Take a fucking picture, Princess, it’ll last longer.”

Oops.

And when you pulled back up to the clubhouse, it took everything in you to not just run off. Your heart was beating out of your chest, panties completely ruined with your slick, oh my god you were fucking perverted. You carefully helped Tommy, Joel, and Ellie load up their gear into their respective cars, keeping your mouth shut so as to not squeak out an embarrassing sound. In fact, you couldn’t be quite sure you wouldn’t just moan out loud if Ellie so much as even glanced in your direction unprompted.

“Great game today, guys.” You smiled sweetly at Joel and Tommy who were now both leaned up against the side of the building, taking refuge from the sun.

“Well thank ya, sweetheart! Glad you got a chance to meet Ellie today, too,” Joel smiled at you, reaching out to squeeze at your shoulder. “Ellie, why don’t you say thank you to our lovely caddy girl today?” He didn’t use your name, because why would he? You were a convenience to them. Now that you thought about it, Ellie probably didn’t even know your name. Let alone care.

Her green eyes bore into you for a moment before she grunted out something that sounded suspiciously like a thank you, before tipping her head back to swallow the last of her water. The sight of her throat contracting had you practically running away to do something so devious, you might have to get down on your knees and pray before you went to sleep.

And Ellie was only human, after all. She was curious, about a lot of things. But more specifically? At this moment? She was wondering where you were scurrying off to. Of course, you weren’t as good about hiding what physical reactions you’d been having to her for the past hour as you thought—the way you’d squirm whenever she caught you staring at her, or how your mouth opened ever so slightly, ever so submissively when she berated you.

So wherever you were going must be good.

And oh, was it good.

Ellie couldn’t believe her eyes, as she trailed behind you. Each time you’d look back, she’d be sure to hide just perfectly out of your view around corners, behind tables….she couldn’t let you know how curious she was, no. Because you see, she was actually good about hiding these sorts of things. She was an asshole, but it wasn’t for no reason. She just couldn’t let you know how the sight of you practically drove her insane—the soft curve of your hips beneath that skirt, the rolls on your belly that led to the plush skin of your breasts that bounced so perfectly with every step you took. That would just ruin the fun of it. My god, were you a sight for Ellie’s sore eyes.

So now, Ellie watched as you were slipping into a supply closet. Okay…? Perhaps, you had just forgotten something, then. Needed to grab something for another member, or left your bag in there before you started your shift. Nothing interesting.

But no, Ellie was close enough now that you were safely behind the door, that she could hear the lock ‘click’ softly from inside the supply closet.

Oh. Oh— she thought.

And she couldn’t believe her ears, when she heard the faintest sigh. One that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than relief.

And yeah, you were relieved.

You couldn’t take it anymore—the last hour you spent with Ellie was absolute torture. Letting her talk down on you, and treat you like you were nothing to her…it shouldn’t have turned you on. You should be upset, embarrassed, angry, furious even. But you were wet.

Holy fucking shit, you were wet. Your fingers trailed down your tummy as you leaned against the wall in the dark closet, barely illuminated by a tiny window at the top of one wall. Your breath was shaky, eyes closed as you lifted your short skirt, shoving your panties to the side before you felt the top of your fingers graze past your clit, sliding further and further in between your slick folds, so easily, so so easily.

“Oh!” you caught yourself gasping as you played with yourself, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as a sickly, obscene wet sound began to fill the space of the small closet. This was so wrong…touching yourself at work, thinking about Ellie, so fucking desperate that you had to run away and relieve even just an ounce of the tension you felt inside.

It only got worse when all you could think about was Ellie’s long fingers, the way they gripped the golf clubs so tenderly, and how you wished so badly that you could replace yours with hers as they slipped inside of you. Your head fell back against the metal rack behind you, and you had no right mind to react to what should have been pain. Instead, you pictured Ellie standing in front of you, and how her eyes would darken with lust as she pressed her body against yours, her hot breath fanning across your face as she fucked her fingers up into you…

And Ellie was going crazy, couldn’t help herself from getting closer and closer to that supply closet door. There was no one in this wing of the club, surely no one would walk by and see her with her ear pressed against a supply closet door…right? It mostly didn’t matter, as something deranged and perverted was consuming her brain. She found herself quite literally pressed against the door, she couldn’t help herself, she had to hear the way you moaned softly and gasped while you worked yourself closer and closer to your release.

“Oh…oh Ellie!” You breathed wantonly, and Ellie could have cum on the spot. The wet sounds of your ministrations were getting faster and louder as your fingers pressed in and out of you with such force the rack behind you was beginning to rattle. Had you been in your right mind, you should have been mortified. You should have stopped right then and there, pulled yourself together and went home to the privacy of your own home and taken a long, cold shower. But all you could see was that stupid fucking smirk on Ellie’s face as she’d whisper:

Just fucking cum for me, baby.

And so you did, slapping your free hand over your mouth to muffle what surely would have been far too loud of a noise as you reached your peak, your body trembling almost violently as the high washed over you.

Ellie was positively reeling, her ear still pressed to the door almost comically as she listened to you come undone. If anyone were to walk by at this moment it would look utterly suspicious, her all alone in the long hallway, surely looking suspect in her current position. Not to mention she should probably pull away before you had a chance to swing the door open, as she would have absolutely no excuse as to what she was doing here.

Instead, Ellie continued to listen to your labored breaths as you came down, her pink lips parted softly as she felt her own wetness growing more and more unbearable beneath her shorts. Hell, had the purple silicone she had strapped to her hips been real, there would be absolutely no hiding what your sounds had done to her. She should move away, racing thoughts of oh my fucking god, and I wonder how easy it would be to make her sound like that again, but also to go back to Dad and go the fuck home, goddammit, this is absolutely sick, even for you and—

“Ellie?!”

She nearly fell forward from the weight of her body on the door when it swung inwards to reveal your absolutely mortified face, and even more terrified voice. Her eyes were like saucers, surely mirroring yours as you gaped at her, one hand still on the door to leave the possibility of slamming it right back in her face in humiliation. No, no no no no no way this was happening to you.

Ellie’s mouth opened and closed a few times as she staggered backwards in her surprise, leaving you both just staring each other down in what was surely the most awkward encounter either of you had ever had in your entire life. Her eyes quickly shifted downwards and she took another step back.

“I- I was just- yeah, okay. Bye.”

And she was gone.

pt 2??????

#ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x you #ellie tlou pt 2 #the last of us pt 2 #ellie williams smut

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flanaganfilm · 3 months

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Hey Mike! Absolutely love your work, especially Haunting of Hill House and Fall of the House of Usher. I was wondering a couple things:

Any chance we will ever get to see that deleted scene where Carla plays a homeless woman singing to Madeleine? Loved the Easter egg and also can’t get enough of Verna so it would be so cool to see that deleted scene!

Also wanted to know what it was like working with Mary? It was such a joy to see her in House of Usher!! Hoping to see her in future Flanaverse projects!!

Hi there! That material was removed very early in the editing process, long before the scene was completed, so there isn't a finished "scene" to show. Carla and Mary did fine work acting in those moments, but the series as a whole is stronger without it, so a completed version of the scene with that footage simply never existed. It's an odd alchemy when you tell a story this way, and sometimes scenes that seem to work on the page can be acted beautifully, shot exquisitely, and still not be necessary or additive. In this case, it actually worked against the mysteries of the show, it wasn't believable that Madeline wouldn't recognize Verna, and it was clear that this was a mistake. It was my mistake for writing the scene the way I did, and it happens all the time. We could tell immediately that it didn't fit, so we didn't waste much time proving it out. Releasing deleted scenes is a tricky thing. I love bonus features - it's one of the great benefits of physical media - but even if we had a huge special edition box set of Usher, I don't know that we would have included this scene. Sometimes these things just aren't meant for the audience, even as an interesting relic, and this is one of those times. Incidentally, I had the same feeling about some of the material that didn't make it into the Bly Manor edit. We knew the scenes weren't working very early in the process, so they were never refined into any shape that would warrant their release. Fans will hear an actor talk about scenes they worked on, and the fans get all excited, but if they were to see those scenes it wouldn't enhance their love of the characters or the story... in fact, it can work against it. For years, I've had Bly fans reach out lamenting that they can't see some of the Bly material they've read about in cast interviews, but I'm certain that seeing it in its raw, unfinished state wouldn't enhance or deepen their love of the characters or the show. There's really nothing to release. It's just excess material that lands on the floor while you're sculpting, and sticking it back onto the sculpture only makes a noticeable wart. Other times, though, deleted scenes can be incredibly additive. For example, I think the 30 minutes we took out of the theatrical release of Doctor Sleep only enhanced the movie, and made the experience that much more rich - which was why I was so happy to release the Director's Cut with those scenes restored. Those scenes, though, were fully finished, and only removed in the first place because of the movie's run-time. Restoring those elements made the sculpture complete - they were always supposed to be there. But most times, deleted material is just unnecessary material. It can be like having an amazing meal prepared for you, and then being handed a plate of surplus or unused ingredients. Like, the chef needed to peel a lemon before squeezing it over the meal as a wonderful finishing touch. That dash of citrus really made the meal sing. But that doesn't mean you want to eat the peel. And I LOVE working with Mary. I'm sure we'll do it again!

#the fall of the house of usher #deleted scenes #haunting of bly manor #dani clayton #you don't actually want to eat the lemon peel #damie stans

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writingquestionsanswered · 1 month

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How do you know when your plot is over complicated?

Knowing When Plot is Over Complicated

I think story structure templates (Save the Cat , Hero's Journey, Three-Act Structure, Larry Brooks Story Structure, Seven-Point Structure, John Truby's Twenty-Two Building Blocks, Six-Stage Plot Structure, Dramatica Act Structure, etc.) can be really helpful in determining whether or not your plot is over complicated.

Fair warning: story structure templates are just guides... never feel like you have to follow a particular one, or follow a particular one exactly. Many writers cobble together bits of different templates, and others use them simply to inform next moves. They're just there to help you figure out how your story might go.

Having said that, browse through some different templates and try to identify key points in your story according to the structure's plot points. When you find one that seems like a reasonable fit (doesn't have to be exact), you can fill it out according to the plot points in your story. If you have several plot points that don't seem to fit, see what happens if you fill out a couple other different templates. If you consistently have the same plot points not fitting into structure templates, that could be a sign that those plot points are excessive and not doing much for the story. At that point, you can look at each excessive plot point and ask what happens if you delete it? What changes in the story? Are those elements essential? If so, can you effect those same changes by revamping another (necessary) plot point? If not, you can probably cut it... but you might want to save it in a file for use in a future story.

Another thing you can try is going through each of your plot points separately and ask yourself the following questions relating to how each plot point moves the story forward:

Does it move the MCs closer to their goal? Does move the character further away from their goal or create an obstacle that must be overcome? Does it move characters into place for the next plot point? Does it deliver information and/or develop information about back story, characters, or world that is crucial for understanding the story?

If you answered "no" to all of these questions and can't see anything critical the plot point does to move the story forward, it's likely an unnecessary plot point.

Even if you answered "yes" to one or a few of these questions for a particular plot point, it's still worth looking closer to see what exactly the plot point accomplishes. Are you sure that thing isn't being accomplished elsewhere, too? Are you sure there's not a way you could make a more necessary scene/plot point accomplish that same thing? Sometimes you can eliminate excessive plot points by taking what you feel needs to be kept and tucking it in elsewhere, into places you know need to be kept.

Ultimately, with a little critical thinking and "kill your darlings" honesty, you should be able to find and eliminate parts of your plot that are excessive.

I hope that helps!

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roo-bastmoon · 7 months

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Thoughts on 3D

So Jungkook's collab with Jack Harlow is out. It is catchy; it will go viral. I have purchased it; I will add it to my new releases playlists--same as I do for all our boys.

But while the dancing was cool and JK's parts are okay (I'm not thrilled that the word "girl" is used literally 20 times, but I get what the western music industry is), I was--I need to be honest here--really taken aback and unhappy with how misogynistic Jack Harlow's rap lyrics were. As far as I'm concerned, he's absolutely unnecessary, and I'll be supporting the alternate version with a lot more enthusiasm.

A deeper look at the lyrics and more of my thoughts are under the cut if you're interested (but by clicking, you're agreeing to keep it respectful in the comments or you'll get banned.)

All my ABG's get cute for me I had one girl (One girl), too boring Two girls (Two girls), that was cool for me Three girls, damn, dude's horny Four girls, okay now you whorin' (Hey, hey, hey) Hey, I'm loose I done put these shrooms to good use

Setting young women up in a line and talking about how sleeping with just one is too boring but sleeping with four is whorish? Yeah, miss me with it.

Then there's this:

You won't regret me (You won't regret me) Champagne confetti (Champagne confetti) I wanna see it In motion In 3D (Show it to me, girl, now, why?)

I was given to understand that "ABG" stands for "Asian Baby Girl" and refers to an Asian party girl who likes clubbing, wearing excessive makeup and tattoos, and revealing clothes, etc.

I also learned from Urban Dictionary—which can be an unreliable site with outdated or incorrect information—that "champagne" has referred to underage girls in the past and "confetti" or nowadays “champagne confetti” refers to orgasm, or sometimes when a group of men or women surround someone, masturbate, and then ejaculate on them.

Not even going to get into the shrooms thing. I'm not in a hyper conservative country with harsh punishments for those type of drugs so... I was a bit taken aback about a song about being fucked right, and now there's lyrics about what amounts to harem girls.

*sigh* Do you know how much I hope I'm reading into things incorrectly? Please correct me if I'm misunderstanding the innuendo, but this is what urban dictionary says. I'm 44 and live in a cave. Maybe I'm wrong.

But in any case, the vibe of Jack's parts in the video was not coming off respectful.

I don't care how many other rap songs objectify and insult women--I won't get behind any content that does. And don't even try to gaslight me or other ARMY into saying we should like this because it's comparatively worse in other rap songs. Don't try to suppress any discourse about it, either--let women discuss how they feel about how they are represented. Don't police women. Don't silence women.

BTS' rap music got so much better once they incorporated feminist feedback, so I'm used to a higher standard and I won't be lowering those standards for anyone. I have no hang ups about sex, but please miss. me. with. misogynistic. bullshit.

Then again, it seems some of the rap hyungs were on board with this.

So I guess industry pros have a different take on stuff like this!

*shrug*

Okay, we have established that I really don't like Jack Harlow's contributions to this song. Which means I'll support the alternative. Thank goodness they had the foresight to provide an alternative!

Now I can work for JK's charts in a way that doesn't aggravate my conscience. All good. Enough said on 3D.

Personally? I really hope JJK1 showcases JK's range of genres, but also has a range of topics besides pursuing girls or being cool.

I just can't vibe with a fuckboy persona; I never liked Justin Bieber or Justin Timberlake for that very reason, even if some of their songs sound fine. Now, if Jungkook really admires their style and wants to pursue it, I'm not going to rag on him for it. Of course not. It's his choice and I can respect people's choices without making the same choices myself.

I will always try to support our members as far as I can, even if not everything is my cup of tea.

But I can't help hoping for something personal and authentic and substantive, when it's just Jungkook coming to us without a collab. (And with Scooter at the helm for an all-English EP, I guess I'm not holding my breath. But maybe this is all part of the learning and growing process. Time will tell.)

Please know that I don't expect other people to suit me and my tastes, but neither will I enthusiastically support content with my time and money when they don't suit me at all or actually really turn me off, ya feel me? It's a real and respectful relationship I have with BTS and their music; not performative. I don't follow along quietly out of obligation, but rather a sincere joy to participate.

I love Jungkook deeply. He's a sweet and intelligent and kind-hearted young man. Amazingly talented and humble. Sincere, open to being vulnerable, protective of those whom he loves. He donates to kid's hospitals, for goodness sake. Jeon Jungkook is a good egg.

I guess I'm just sort of feeling a bit whelmed by the type of music that is in vogue these days. JK worked hard, he did well on his parts. I just am hoping his album showcases some of the emotional depth and meaningful thoughts I have seen from him in the past, if I'm being purely honest. *shrug*

Those are my less-than-two cents. Of course, you may have a vastly different perspective and I appreciate that. Just please keep it respectful of all members and each other in the comments here. It's been a long day and I desperately need some real rest now. I'm trusting I can post this and not come back to a warzone.

I've got a Friday Thirst post in the queue for you guys, and then I'll be taking a bit of a break from social media for a few days to work on work deadlines. Please keep voting for Jimin and of course stream and buy for Jungkook and other new releases.

Sending you all so much love!

~Roo

#jungkook #Spotify

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luvfy0dor · 7 months

Note

fyodor angst to fluff pls(reader scolds him for overworking then he gets mad so she gets sad so he feels bad basically 🐀)

"Breaks are good ♡" Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN!Reader !! ༉‧₊˚.

╰┈➤ Fyodor Dostoevsky ♡

Description; Fyodor is stubborn most times when it comes to putting a stop to his work, but if it's something his lover wants so badly for him, he might as well comply, right?

Warnings; Spoilers for Fyodors motive/DOA plan, angst, Idk if this counts as soft!Fyodor help

A/N; Sorry this took a couple days to put out, it's been quite a week dawg 🫥writing this out was like a retreat y'all don't even know

Fyodor had always been a man dedicated to his work, but you can't help feeling like sometimes he gets a little sucked into his task. Fyodor himself even knows it, though he will swear up and down that the amount of work he does is highly necessary. Every time he tries excuses his excessive working, you just sigh and shake your head. This time was different though, you were fed up.

Fyodor had a little room for himself, dedicated to his plan of ridding ability users from the world, that he would hole himself in to keep his focus. He didn't forbid you from entering, but he highly influenced you not to while he was hard at work. He didn't mind when you brought him tea or anything, but he got remotely ticked off when you would urge him to take a break or come to bed, insisting on another thirty minutes or so. Tonight, you decided that he needed to implement a habit of taking a break, he had to be exhausted, right?

You carefully stirred the tea that you made for Fyodor, walking slowly towards his little room. You gently knocked on the door, hearing a soft and muttered "come in" from the other side. When you opened the door, Fyodors eyes were still glued on the screens in front of him. You let out a soft sigh as you walked towards him, setting the tea in front of the man.

"Thank you, my dear." He said with a soft smile, grabbing your hand gently and kissing your knuckles. Your heart swelled a bit at his gentle action, but it only made you crave more attention from your boyfriend. "Uhm, fedya, I was thinking..." He sighed. "I already know what you were thinking, no. I need to get this done." He says firmly, his smile fading to a more neutral expression. You felt a small pang in your heart, a frown coming over your face.

"Come on, Fyodor. I can't keep letting you sit here and work yourself to death. It's all you do, work, work, work, and some more work." You said, a hint of annoyance in your voice, to which he side eyed you. "My dear, you clearly don't understand. Can we talk about this later? When I'm finished?" He says, his tone also slightly irritated. Your eyebrows furrow.

"No, Fyodor. We're not going to ignore this, are you not exhausted? Constantly working, you barely have time for me, let alone yourself! All I ask is that you take a break here and there, is it really that difficult?" You practically pleaded with the lanky man in front of you. He seemed as though he couldn't be bothered with your concerns, too irked by your constant insistence on him stepping away from his job for a while to even care.

He sighed heavily, swiveling his chair to face you. "You act as though you're the one doing the work. A break is unnecessary if I can just do it all in one sitting. That prolongs the ultimate time it takes me to get it done, don't you get that?" He replied, his thumb and pointer finger squeezing the bridge of his nose.

"Yes, but you're still overworking yourself! You do too much in such little time, you need to stop for a minute. Your work is like a plague to you, it consumes you entirely in the worst way possible." He rolls his eyes. "You're quite dramatic." He says, returning his attention to his screens. You felt hurt by Fyodors ignorance, furrowing your eyebrows and balling up your fists a bit.. "Wow, okay. You don't even care, do you?" You mutter. He takes a glance over at you before continuing his typing.

You sigh loudly before angrily speaking. "Why do you get so defensive every time I try to get you to take a break? There's no way you're not utterly exhausted will all of this, Fyodor." You desperately say, you voice cracking a bit as you try to get your point across to Fyodor. "You're only distracting me and wasting more time." He says, making your heart sink. "Wow, alright." You say angrily, your voice a bit shaky as you storm out of the room, slamming the door behind you.

You truly didn't get it, what was his problem with taking a quick break? It wasn't killing him, or anyone for that matter. There were so many reasons why a break is necessary; you knew his line of work was dangerous and put him directly in deaths way if he wasn't cautious, and had he died you would absolutely regret not pestering him. He could very much be overworking himself, raising his irritability and lack of energy. What you didn't understand was why he couldn't see the issue with his bad habit.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you marched your way back to the shared bedroom you and Fyodor had occupied every night; angrily crawling under the covers and huffing as you settled into a comfortable position, facing away from the door. You stirred with your angry thoughts, not even wanting to get water just because of the thought of running into your boyfriend. You were so mad that he wouldn't just be understanding of your side too, you genuinely wondered what had crawled up his ass tonight. I mean, is it seriously that difficult to just hear you out?-

"My dear..? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you like that."

His soft voice sounded throughout the bedroom, making your mind go quiet for a moment. You let out a small 'huff' to let him know you were awake, but still disgruntled over the whole conundrum. He sighed in response, quietly shutting the door behind him and cutting off any light from the hallway. You could feel the blanket lifting and the mattress dipping next to you.

"Did you want to talk about it..?" He quietly murmurs, trying to keep you calm as he spoke. You rolled over, sniffling and wiping any stray tears that had overflowed from your eyes. "Please don't cry, moya lyubov.." he says, his face seeming expressionless, but you could tell there was a smidge of guilt behind his pretty, purple eyes. You averted your eyes from his, your mouth hanging slightly agape as you gathered your thoughts.

"I just...Fyodor, you're gonna work yourself to death before you even get within arms reach of your goal." You say with a small frown. He just sighs, snaking one of his arms around your side to comfort you a bit. "I understand that you feel that way, but it's important that I get there as soon as possible." He says, using his other hand to brush some hair out of your face. You nod a bit. "Yeah...I guess you're right, but...could you please just start to take breaks? Just...you know, just five to ten minutes every couple of hours?"

He thinks for a moment before reluctantly nodding. "I suppose I could, but only because my health seems to be so important to my love." He says softly, gently kissing your forehead. You smile, kissing his shoulder in response. "Good, I get nervous that one day you'll...you know, die and I won't have as much time with you to look back on as I would like to." You murmur against the soft fabric of his sweater, hearing him hum in acknowledgement.

"That's understandable, dear." He sleepily says, stroking your back as he rests his head on top of yours. Your hand goes up to twirl some of his long, dark hair around your pointer finger, observing his tired mannerisms. "Fedya, look at you, you're falling asleep already." You let out a soft laugh, as real of a problem it was that Fyodor was overworking himself, he looked kinda silly all drowsy and sleepy.

A soft smile tugs at the corners of Fyodors lips. "Yes, you're right. I guess you do know me pretty well, don't you, my dear?" He murmurs, his eyes closed. You smile with your boyfriend and continue twirling his hair around you're finger. "Ofcourse I do, and I know that you need some time for yourself."

"Alright, I will take a break next time, I promise." He mumbles, falling asleep in your arms with yet another goal in mind; completing all of his goals healthily.

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dokk-fukuro · 1 year

Note

may i req “your relationship” w fyodor?

۞₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪۞ A/N: f!reader, smut(?), some sort of toxic relationship, slight yandere, Fedya is an abbreviation of the name Fyodor ۞₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪۞ Dostoevsky as your friend:

• Your relationship is very hard to call friendly, because he does not see anything remarkable in the relationship between people;

• At such moments, Gogol acts as his personal translator. But we all know that you can't take anything he says seriously. Can't it?..

• Fedya treats you as a tool that should play a role in his plan, and then disappear, because it is customary to get rid of unnecessary things;

• However, it cannot be denied that in some way Dostoevsky treats you a little better than the same Ivan he got rid of, Gogol or Sigma. He saw something in you;

• You rarely communicate in person, as his reluctance to be declassified and caught outweighs his desire for a face-to-face meeting. Plus, the role played by excessive caution and safety. To do this, you have a private secret communication channel;

• Even towards you as a friend, he can be abusive, covering it up with concern for you as a friend;

• In fact, Fedya simply does not know about the nature of human emotions and relationships, it is difficult for him to trace the logic and meaning in this, therefore, when you tell him that you are friends and for this very reason you help him, you can sometimes catch a slight bewilderment in his gaze;

۞₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪۞

Dostoevsky as your boyfriend:

• Feelings are not about him. He doesn't know how to love, at least he doesn't know how to do it right, as is accepted by society. His “love” is more like an obsessive desire to have you;

• He is still cold towards you both in public and in private meetings. It is not clear why Fyodor behaves this way towards you, but who, if not you, knows for sure that this is another of his manipulations;

• Dostoevsky is a manipulative and jealous person, although he denies the latter even for himself. Feelings should not be something that will be "at the helm". He wants to believe it. Just pay attention to the way he looks at you during your talks with Gogol or Sigma. Dostoevsky is ready to tear and throw about in fact, even if outwardly he seems calm;

• You are the one who drags him to bed so he can sleep. Behind his great plans and constant monitoring of the processes, Fedya may not notice how he spent more than two days without sleep. He also suffers from occasional nightmares;

• His kisses are greedy. From the outside it may seem that he is trying to work his way under your skin in order to be closer, to be one with you literally;

You watch what's going on outside. You don't know how many days you haven't seen the sunlight, but for some reason you don't mind at all. Where you and Fyodor are, it's pretty quiet. There is no city bustle around, which is already tired. His icy palms move upwards along your body as Fyodor kisses the curve of your neck with his lips, leaving new marks on top of those that have almost faded away. He doesn't like the way Gogol behaves towards you. Always so rowdy, eager to impress. Even allowed you to attend the execution of the rest of the Rats of the House of the Dead fighters. Like he's declaring he'll kill anyone for you. That is why you will never see him again. “Would you like to take your eyes off the view outside the window and look at me?” It comes near your ear, and your breath catches as soon as Fyodor grabs your chest. His other hand is stroking the inside of your thigh, which is more than enough to stop focusing on anything but touch.

• Sometimes he plays the cello for you. Secretly from you keeps some compositions that he wrote himself, looking at you;

• Told you the reason why he wants to destroy the espers and create a new world without them, because he has chosen you as the god of this world. And after that story, you understand that Dostoevsky is actually terribly lonely.

#my writing #bsd #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #bsd headcanons #bungo stray dogs headcanons #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd dostoevsky #dostoevsky x reader #dostoevsky smut

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yukiinvs · 4 months

Text

Tekken Headcanons : NSFW

Characters : Hwoarang, Jin Kazama, Steve fox

Genre : smut 🔥 💌 : Hii, I hope you are well, I think it never unnecessary to apologize for my english, it is not my native language, I'm sorry 😭

I think this headcanon is the one that took me the least time because I have no idea why, but I only know that I did it quickly and I didn't get bored doing it, I hope you like it 🫶🏻

psdt : i missed too many characters (again) but i prob do it other with more characters.

Hwoarang

- 25cm (10 inches), no more, no less.

-He is dominant from start to finish, he will probably let you "take control" but before you know it he will be on top of you again giving you orders, he knows your weaknesses so he knows that he will always be in control.

-He has plenty of energy to fuck you for many hours, he won't get tired of fucking you and seeing your tiredness while he was still warming up.

-Lingerie is his weakness.

-He will make fun of you (sometimes excessively) among those teasing, the most common will be to deny you an orgasm.

-He likes to cum anywhere on your body, face, belly, breasts, in your pussy, but his favorite is definitely cumming inside you, he likes to feel you tighten around him while he cums.

Jin Kazama

- 27cm (11 inches)

-He is dominant but from time to time he will let himself be dominated by you, he also has the ability to take control again when he wants.

-He is addicted to your thighs, he likes to see them, touch them and sometimes even squeeze them.

-He's not much for quickies, he prefers to take his time fucking you slowly.

-He likes to do it hard, although sometimes he will be tender and sensual so he can see your face and your facial expressions.

-He prefers to cum on your belly or on your face, he doesn't like the risk of having a child. (he is traumatized)

Steve Fox

- 23cm (9 inches)

- They like the adrenaline of doing it in semi-public places and being caught.

-He is fascinated by your breasts, he can't stop looking at them while he holds you under him.

-He is quite noisy, he likes others to hear how they are enjoying themselves.

- Rough sex, he could definitely leave you without walking for about 2 days with sore hips

-He likes to leave hickeys and some bruises from holding you so hard, it's not intentional (the hickeys ARE intentional)

-He likes to cum inside you and when he does it he likes to see your face, making sure you enjoy it too.

#tekken headcanons #tekken 8 #tekken #jin kazama #hwoarang #steve fox #tekken thoughts #tekken smut

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simcardiac-arrested · 1 year

Text

BOO!!!!! sillyguy jumpscare

“looks like a raver ancient built him” - my friend

“i am SUCH a fan of how you make all of your fanocs annoying himbos with unnecessary swag” - my other friend

“he’s fresh sans” - like, two people

so — he’s finally here!!! the Basketball!!!! be warned INSANE and MINDBLOWING loredrop below‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ as well as some general trivia about NWB + some more silly doodles

The Ancients, dissatisfied with the very prominent lack of results the Iterator project was bringing, began having doubts. Perhaps they had gone about this the wrong way? After all, the jellyfish that doesn’t try is the one that doesn’t get caught in the net. It seemed they had made their design of the Iterators inherently flawed — they tried too hard to solve the Problem, over and over and over again.

It was time for something new. An alternative.

And so, the idea for the Anti-Iterator project was brought into the world — a whole generation of Iterators that didn’t try. Some called it redundant, some pointless. But it convinced plenty, certainly enough to make that idea a reality, and the plan came into fruition.

No Way Back was the first created; his name was given to him to signify a turning point, a new era of Iterators. One that would bring with it change and, hopefully, finally, a solution.

so anyway NWB did absolutely nothing except talk excessively about the ancients’ fashion and sometimes ask them for their drip clothes for his collection and also make cringefail music. the project was discontinued immediately

NOW!!! TOP 10 GAMER TRIVIA:

- makes the shittiest sounding music possible, sincerely believes it’s peak art. if you don’t think the same way he’ll say You dont get it. You just dont

- fan of fashion, art & history, but in a normal way (unlike pebbles). really wishes he could have a whole wardrobe of clothes like his creators, but they’re all gone now </3 and even back then when they were all still alive they. did not like giving him stuff (they did not like him)

- one of them did give him the nikeys though

- most of his creators deemed him useless and didn’t particularly care for him. however, some of them (usually the kids) liked talking with NWB, and he enjoyed interacting with them too. he kind of misses the ancients even if they were asses

- is an enigma to his local group: he barely sends messages, and when he does it’s wildly off topic, and literally NEVER about work related stuff. occasionally he’ll drop his “bangers” in the groupchat and ask for opinions. unfortunately most of the iterators ignore him because they find him annoying (and useless as well. very ancientcore of them)

- kind of incomprehensible. he just says things

- doesn’t really have a god complex so he’s generally friendly, open-minded and easy going, but if you’re mean to him he’ll go Wow. Not cool, man. and he’ll probably give you a lecture like a 90s PSA

- calls himself a DJ. doesn’t even have a proper DJ name. probably doesn’t even know what a club is

- fan of nature, enjoyer of life. has no friends and no purpose but doesn’t let it get to him. at least he can make the equivalent of cbat 2 and force every iterator in the world to listen to it

- he’s stupid but he’s also really smart because. supercomputer. however he chooses to not use his brain and instead be silly. he thinks it’s funnier that way

- sometimes sends his music to other iterators besides his local group’s. they also ignore him

- you really can’t tell when he’s being ironic or not, and whether he’s really THAT dumb or if he’s just trolling. one thing for sure — he loves to mess with the stuck-up iterators from his local group if they decide to bother him

- if the ancients had any equivalent of the 80s, he would’ve been a very very big fan of it

- loves animals too. would call slugcat “little dude”

leave your thoughts in the COMMENTS below!!! remember to LIKE and SUBSCRIBE and listen to DJNWB on SPOTIFY (suddenly becomes normal) if you have any questions feel free to ask and i will answer. i love this guy he’s my everything

#myart #rain world #rain world oc #iterator oc #he’s like if a guy was a guy. and then was a guy again #this iterator is BALLIN he got REAL ASS JORDANS #he will tell you about the joys of life but only if you let him be incomprehensible and cryptic first #and call you Bro at the end of every sentence #btw i absolutely love adding tumblr posts to my refs it’s so fucking funny to me #oc: no way back

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403tarot · 6 months

Note

Red flags and green flags on hyunjin please

HYUNJIN'S RED & GREEN FLAGS

red

hyunjin avoids his own responsibilities or pretends to be unaware of them, which ultimately harms himself – he's ambitious but not strict in his own behavior to achieve what he wants. he is pessimistic about himself and fears that others may have the same distorted view of him, causing him to withdraw and isolate himself instead of addressing this. he often adopts a people-pleasing behavior, being excessively kind and attentive to gain the approval of others. hyunjin enjoys being the center of attention, even when the timing is inappropriate. appearances matter, and a lot – this may be a filter he uses to relate to people in general. he has a strong temperament and, while not explosive, can be sarcastic and bitter. sometimes, rebuffs the advice of those who deeply care about him and has difficulty in accepting criticism in silence.

green

hyunjin is loyal, not only to his friends but also to those who have helped him in some way, even if it was minimal, in the past. he doesn't forget people who have been kind to him, even if they are distant in the present. hyunjin stands by his friends even if their actions or beliefs go against what he deems right. he has undergone significant maturation in recent times and has become hyper-aware that all his actions will have reactions, so he must be cautious. hyunjin looks back on the past and thinks there were times when his actions were unnecessary, his words too harsh, and his behavior childish, acknowledging that if he had today's mindset in the past, he would have been a better person. hyunjin is ambitious with his own goals and is someone who thinks about the future. believes in "you reap what you sow."

#— duckie notes ⪩♡⪨#stray kids tarot #hwang hyunjin #kpop readings #kpop astrology #kpop tarot

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mcflymemes · 1 year

Text

AS SAID BY ALISTAIR THEIRIN

ASSORTED DIALOGUE FROM DRAGON AGE: ORIGINS

aw, that’s sweet.

excuse me while i begin projectile vomiting.

is it just me, or did i do really badly back there?

that just seems so excessive.

i don’t think we’re alone. i really don’t think we’re alone.

i once got pickpocketed.

where do you think they get all this stuff?

why do they call it a brothel? there’s no broth. or is there?

we’re not going to be mobbed, right?

now that is a big tree.

you feel that? it’s actually colder up here.

now that’s just unnecessary.

oh here i am! and there you are! you just disappeared!

can we expect more of those?

what is that smell? fish? and something else... oh, more fish.

it’s just like being home again.

i locked myself in a cage once, when i was a child. for an entire day. ahh, good times.

is this place even on a proper map?

what is this place?

uh oh. i’m terrible at puzzles.

hey you see those... thingies over on the side of that huge chasm?

maybe i should touch them. or stand on them?

nice campfire you have there.

let’s try not to get lost here.

i think there’s something ahead. something big.

looks like we’re done here.

do you think they understand everything we say?

you could be an utter moron, for all we know.

why doesn’t anyone want to hear me talk?

there’s a certain allure to danger, isn’t there?

you’re not going to tell me, are you?

i don’t know if i should take you seriously... but you scare me sometimes.

i’ve never been very good at that.

all right, forget i asked.

i so totally did not see you ogling each other before.

what an utter relief.

do i have a choice?

couldn’t you crawl into a bush somewhere and die? that would be great, thanks.

leave me alone.

i thought you’d like that.

i was looking at your nose.

why do you always go on about how stupid i am?

you’re not even listening to me.

oh, how the mighty have crumbled.

that... was so not what i meant.

what’s wrong with fraternizing?

shut up! that is none of your business.

i said shut up! i will run this sword through you, i’m not joking.

you’re... you’re drunk, aren’t you.

why can’t i be drunk all the time? i never get to be drunk.

i think that’s private.

so what would you do if someone told you that they loved you?

how would you react?

not this again. i’m ready this time.

really? no pinching my cheeks? no making me blush?

there it is, the last of them.

you appear to be getting younger by the day.

but you kill people. for money.

you weren’t exactly the best they had.

i’m not an idiot. well, most of the time.

oh, i get it. you’re not going to tell me.

if you aren’t telling me, there must be a reason.

well, that’s comforting.

i’m... i’m going to go stand over here now.

i’m not worried about that.

no, on second thought, i’ll just pass.

so how much did you charge to... you know... kill someone?

when this is over, what do you intend to do with yourself?

have you... had very many women in your time?

how do you... woo them?

i like my hair the way it is, thank you.

we aren’t talking about this, are we? did i hit my head?

what are your intentions with them?

is that a smirk? are you smirking at me?

just... watch yourself, then. i’ll be keeping an eye on you.

let me guess. they get assassinated.

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misschizuchi · 2 months

Text

I trusted you once, and it ruined me

“Forgive me, Father, for I cannot help but admire the Chosen of your sworn foe”

She began to write with a cool head, with a steady hand she wrote out every symbol very carefully, breathing calmly and restrainedly. Towards the end of the letter lines began to wobble a little, and a couple of words here and there were separated by wet drops, which, when dried, left gaps in their place that were too large to be missed. The last words - a promise to God - were written as if on her last breath. Only after putting an end to last sentence, Durga threw the quill away from her with a nervous jerk, as if it had been burning her fingers all this time. She was breathing heavier than usual, unevenly, but she didn’t sniffle, no sobbing: a couple of stingy tears, and even those appeared from an overabundance of feelings previously unknown to her. To admire someone, to truly sympathize with them was an extremely odd feeling. Wrong feeling. So much so that after that one quickly came shame and disappointment in herself, fear even. Durga feared only her Father and God - essentially the same person, but in any case he would not have appreciated her affection for Enver Gortash. She thought so. And she wasn't the only one...

Should she have confessed? She convinced herself that there was nothing to confess, but a long separation sometimes drove her crazy, and Durga was angry: emotions were uninvited and unnecessary, not love, but excessive attachment to the tyrant made her feel weak and insignificant, so she lost her temper more often than usual on those around her, tore flesh and tossed heads only to prove to herself that she had not changed and was still who her Creator intended her to be. The desire to express her admiration for the Chosen One of Bane, however, did not recede. And the opportunity presented itself.

Correspondence is so unreliable when everything important needs to be discussed. The three Chosen Ones gathered in one place to speak with each other in person. Ketheric Thorm did not like to talk to either of the other two. Gortash and Durga could talk for hours when they managed to find the time. The Chosen One of Bhaal hoped that today they would find it. And at the same time she held hope for the completely opposite. In general, she relied on fate: if tyrant decides to pay attention to his old friend, she will explain herself, and if not, then so be it, even for the better. She already worried too much about something she shouldn’t worry about at all. So much so that sleep escaped her. This time the bed in the richly furnished room remained cold. The Bhaalspawn wandered around the room in irrepressible anxiety, glancing at the slightly open door. There was an unpleasant feeling in her stomach, but Durga attributed everything to her idiotic excitement from meeting Gortash. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard the door close with a slight click. Durga snapped her head up, turning around to see Bane's Chosen. Finally. She was even slightly surprised that she herself was amused: she did not hint to him at all about the upcoming conversation, he hardly had a reason to come to her, and the question “why is he here” flashed through her head, despite the fact that Durga was exhausted in anticipation when he comes to talk. And Gortash froze at the entrance, leaning on the door frame, keeping his hands together, as if he was acting out shy, although his usual smile indicated that he felt quite confident.

They greeted each other in their regular, informal manner, smiled at each other, and her smile was a little forced, which did not escape Enver’s gaze. He approached her with slow steps. Durga sighed loudly when he knelt down in front of her* - he just wanted to meet her eyes. His words and gestures emanated... participation. Even caring. Which wouldn't be so strange if it weren't today. Durga often showed care for him, especially in the tiring evenings. It should not be unusual that from time to time Gortash returns this care. But today it only made her more nervous.

What happened, my friend? You look too sad for someone who will soon rule the Sword Coast. You should cheer up and throw away this melancholy. Sadness is the lot of old man Ketheric. Tear a couple of prisoners to pieces, it will cheer you up! No? Honestly, I'd take a look: to see you in action, in all your glory inspires me so much. I would even say I can't help but admire...

What a convenient hook, so as not to bite, not to cling to this opportunity. Durga started talking. A very calm, but fast speech restrainedly and clearly conveyed one idea: the Chosen One had sinned before her own Creator, sinned and humiliated herself with just one thought, did something for which she had to pray for God’s forgiveness, and the reason for this guilt was Enver Gortash.

He looked at his friend with some surprise, but with such insight in his gaze that it quickly became clear: it was as if he already knew about everything, and was surprised not by the fact of such feeling itself blossoming in assassin, but by the fact that Durga decided to express it. He, however, did not interrupt, looking at the woman’s face with much attention, smiling slightly. The Chosen of Bhaal could not stand this look, pressed her own face to the man’s cheek, whispered in his ear a little more nervously, as if she was afraid that their patrons would hear her words and punish both of them. And she wouldn't want anything less. She felt guilty and was ready to be punished. Moreover, she wanted to be punished for her affection. It would have been easier if she was the only one to blame, but Gortash did not push her away; on the contrary, he took her by the shoulders as if he wanted to embrace her figure.

Why don't you laugh at me? Make me stop! Call me a fool. Remind us of our plan. Slap some sense into me. Do something, Gortash, I am not fine.

Why should I do anything? I’m happy with everything... I really didn’t think that I was causing you such emotional turmoil. If it bothers you so, just order me and I'll leave.

No need! Don't go. I’m not... Stay, Enver.

A man's hand ran through her hair, gilded claws catching several springy curls.

I won't leave anymore. You really are a fool.

The entire dark silhouette of a grown male completely dissolved, as if turned to dust settled at his feet. Black short hair became a long blonde braid, and the cloak transformed into blood red chitin. Durga did not see the face, but, still pressing her cheek against another's face, she knew clearly who was hugging her.

Dear sister, you are such a fool...

The raised blade pierced the Bhaal’s princess back so quickly, so fiercely. Many times too. She died in someone else's arms, spat blood on pale shoulder, unable to process fast enough what was happening

What he's been whispering to you all this time for you become such a slob? But I'm not you. I won't have anything to apologize for.

and only one thought was spinning in her head: she became weak indeed, her feelings were taken advantage of, it’s just wasn't Him who did it... The irony.

*Durga is a gnome therefore much shorter than Gortash

Consider this a draft that will never be rewritten in something better. It's nothing more but a sketch for a scene I imagined, and I don’t think I conveyed everything exactly the way I wanted, including possible dynamics between Durga and Gortash. But it's good enough. I was inspired by several headcanons that I've read on here. In original fantasy of mine Gortash and Durga would have sex, but I am so much into angst right now than smut 😁 so death of the Chosen One it is, much better.

#my art #fanfiction #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 gnome #enver gortash #durge #durgetash

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