#such a niche thing but i swear if i see this shit one more time
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I’m not transphobic or anything but if I’m not allowed to call you sir or ma’am I will literally crush a baby kitten with my bare hands because im from the south 🤪
#the klock keeps ticking#sarcasm this isssss sarcasm#such a niche thing but i swear if i see this shit one more time#its like#haha yeah like im obviously an ally but expecting me to stand against this thing thats been ingrained into me since youth thats#thats just expecting emotional labor from me like omg talk about entitled!
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Supervillains for a community. (Well, except those jerks over in Gotham, insular lot, but they’re they’re one problem) Of course they do- supervillains are a group defined by strong opinions and a willingness to see them through, often with a healthy dash of societal failures and trauma as a catalyst.
The fentons, while not active even on the online message boards, are well known and explosive when they do show up, full of fascinating insights and hours long rants on mad science on hair pin turns courtesy of that ADHD attention span. Bit of the cryptids you feel honored to bump into kind of deal. Besides, like a good quarter of the community as it aged, they’d settled down and had kids (not necessarily in that order) and taken it very seriously! Out in the middle of nowhere, where even the most fearsome government outpost members, the local branch of the IRS, quake before them in fear. Out of the way.
Reveal gone okay-ish, Danny moves to Gotham still to get some air bc now things are Akward and he landed that engineering scholarship which is loads better than any other college would give him with his track record. So- the mysterious Fenton children are finally crawling out of hiding! Everyone is psyched! And roll in to Gotham en masse to witness the fireworks!
Except Danny is Determined To Be Normal. He’s had enough of the throwing himself into harms way shit for a lifetime- he wants to be free to peacefully built Rube Goldberg machines and unintentional increasingly complex bombs to his hearts content. JAZZ, on the other hand- the coveted token Normal One, has finally snapped! She’s watched her baby brother she practically raised throw himself into danger over and over and could do nothing, and now that she’s exposed to this whole network of superheroes outside of small town Amnity, some of those uglier emotions are coming out. And boy is she pissed! And can’t afford to show it much while filing the paperwork to have Arkham legally razed to the ground!
See I love this idea of like, niches in superhero society. A villain the heroes know they can plop their kiddo down with for an exciting afternoon brawl while they take care of a particularly grisly case and come back to a few hours later ranting about some new life lesson and a new move they really want to try. A villain who has a functioning moral compass despite their somewhat batshit long term goal and you can contact to fuck with another villains’s plan so they can laugh at them and you can have an easy afternoon. One who pries up hostile architecture and fills in pot holes, idk man. Get creative here, there’s such potential!
So Jazz becomes a Training villain- someone the heroes know their sidekicks will walk away from in a fight 100% of the time, usually with some new lesson to ponder and only a couple of bruises. Sometimes even snacks!
She also absolutely ambushes mentors to check that they’re worth the kiddo, which they appreciate once they get over being jumped in a dark alley by a 7 foot Amazon trained force of nature. They are not used to being on that side of the jumping, it’s a little unnerving.
(Yes, she low key adopts Shazam upon checking in with him on cursory ‘is the main hero of this city and asshole’ checkin. Yes, the super clones get yoinked out from under Superman’s negligent thumb to go have a blast with Ellie. What about it?)
This however only encourages more assorted weirdos to crawl out of the woodwork. It’s not often one of their own forfeits their potential spot for the running of the coveted Most Normal I Swear prize, but when they do it’s bound to be good! But jazz is off hounding various heroes and punching the faces in of pedophiles and shit whenever there’s no cape within easy reach, and so is a mite bit harder to contact than Danny, who has innocently gotten an apprenticeship under a clockworker for access to their workshop and is gleefully going about doing nerdy shit with great abandon.
Plus this is Gotham. No one gives a shit if someone in the Mad Alchemist uniform and still smoking from their latest experiment pokes their head in a window to bother the local shrimp teen- none of the usual social rules apply, everyone’s crazy here! So everyone drops any and all attempts at masking and just acts their genuine unhinged selves, much to the alarm of the Bats and frustration of Danny.
Bc he cannot get these mfers to go. Away. Even liberal use of the creep stick has little effect when the interloper is calibrated for an opponent with super speed or laser vision or whatever, and he’s trying to maintain his guise as a Normal College Student Do No Investigate.
So he calls in the big guns. He’s not super active in the supervillain kids group chat ever since things in amnity calmed the fuck down post becoming King and then immediately using a loophole that says he will not take the throne until he is grown, as defined by finishing learning his trade a la the medieval standards Pariah set up. So he can just take his sweet ass time with his graduate degree and out of inter dimensional bull shit that much longer! Point is, he hasn’t taken the chance to rant over there in a while, so his Crazy friends are getting a lil worried.
The change to come over and shout at their batshit crazy but (mostly) well meaning parent AND see Danny? Score!
The bats, however, are getting awfully suspicious about this one kid that villains from all over the country are flocking to, especially young and upcoming ones as of recently! And he’s acting his engineering course- all the worst rogues are known to have flown through their PhD studies prior to Cracking. They seem to have a real problem on their hands with this Fenton guy.
#dp x dc#dc x dp#mad science#supervillain community#bonus points if you can pull out some super niche comic villain#justice for kite man#local child of a crazy chemist: so you know that trick you showed me with the soda and the reaction that could turn into just like all foam#Danny: yeah and also back the fuck up#lcoacc: so it’s been like my comfort food right but like I started wondering what you could do#danny: oh no (he says while making what amounts of an overachieving smoke bomb)#lcoacc: so I was like what if I add more of a base to it so it could be solid and then maybe just like a LIL acid to see what happens#Danny: oh ancients#lcoacc: but then the killjoy supes came in a ruined everything from where I was ruining lex Luther’s day#Danny:… did you get in on camera#lcoacc: OF COURSE. oh also like everyone ever if coming over for a sleepover lol#Danny: WHAT I CANT FEED YOU MONSTERS#lcoacc: no worrries we’ll rob a bulk store or something lol#Danny: nO
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unsolved (i)
Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or any shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)
Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, Very Loud reader, images and memes that all have alt texts.
A/N: yes this is literally harmless in a different font. do not ask me if anything doesn't make sense. i cannot explain. i resurface every 3 years to present you with ideas born from menty b's. ANYWAY shout out to my beloved ryan and shane. pls enjoy <3
Bucky doesn’t appeal to the youths.
Apparently.
On God, he cannot fathom why.
He had definitely left the house in the last six months, maybe. Smiled in at least two pictures that existed on the internet. He even knew what Discord was. Sort of.
By all accounts, he should be treated as the modern day icon that he was.
“The youths?” he repeats, the word so foreign on his tongue it felt odd to even say it.
“Your numbers are the lowest of the whole team.” The latest tech-dude, with a tablet twelve models ahead of the one Bucky had in his room, tells him monotonously. “Wilson, Romanoff and Barton score the highest. Everyone else lies around the middle. You are dead-last.”
Bucky has the audacity to look offended.
“Anything to say?” Their PR head, Maya, asks him, amused.
He stares, formulating the wittiest one liner he could in three seconds.
“I don’ care,” he mumbles.
Maya sighs. “Look, the team took the decision together. As far as I’m aware, you are still a member. You need some PR if you guys want to stay in the public’s good books.”
“No one’s gonna listen to me.” Bucky wasn’t exactly the poster child for American values. He couldn’t even vote until three years ago, and that came only after the full wrath of a Steve Rogers descended on the email inbox of the DMV.
“That’s why it’s important to get them to like you,” Maya emphasizes. “Or the idea of you at least. A very sanitized, corporate friendly version.”
His eyebrow twitches unintentionally.
“And also you signed the contract.”
Well. Shit.
Truth be told– and he has openly and rather loudly stated this on numerous occasions even especially when no one asked– he doesn’t understand why they need a PR team. The world has calmed down significantly over the last few years. Bucky hadn’t really been out crime-fighting as much as he was people-watching. There hasn’t been an earth-shatteringly dystopian-level event in the longest time, and there seemed to be a group of spandex-clad teenagers who seemed to do a good job at taking care of them when they did threaten to occur. Go kids.
Even if they needed PR, he could arguably understand the appeal of Sam and Nat and why the people would want to see more of them. Bucky, on the other hand, looked like he crawled onto Earth most days of the week.
“What do I have to do?” he asks ultimately, knowing there was no way to get out of this. “Interviews?”
The intern shares a look with Maya. Bucky shares a look with the ceiling.
“The team agreed to do a series of videos, each focusing on a different niche,” she begins, “Crash courses on science, pointing out mistakes in spy movies. Once a week.”
Bucky nods along. He can pinpoint Bruce and Nat for those.
Maya stares at him.
Bucky stares back.
“So,” she says slowly, like he’s a moron, “you would–”
“No.”
The intern sighs heavily like they discussed that this was going to happen. Bucky was getting predictable. This annoys him even further, for some reason.
“Only once a week, and it doesn’t have to be anything crazy–”
“I’m not doing videos,” he interjects. “I’ll tweet a few times. I’ll even go outside. But ’m not doin’ videos.”
A big step was to get the Avengers off Twitter after the regular shit-storm that occurs every time they’d quote-tweet another politician calling them shitheads. Getting them back on seems counterproductive.
“Fine,” Maya relents, looking at the intern. “We'll work something out.”
Bucky leans back in his chair, and meditating on ways he can weasel his way out of those too.
So they stick him in a couple of interviews.
Bucky, as the recluse extraordinaire that he was, does unsurprisingly terrible at them.
Variety does a piece on him that was supposed to take up 2 pages. They send back half a page worth of usable material and Bucky gets a lecture on how monosyllables don't count as answers.
He grunts in return. Maya’s itch to smack his shoulder with the rolled up draft increases.
They set him up for pap walks. Just him getting fast food for the team, or sitting in the park.
They don’t take into account that Bucky was trained professionally for years on how to hide, sneak in and out of places without a soul knowing he was ever there.
The paparazzi spend three hours waiting for him outside the pizza place, while he’s been home for two hours with two demolished pepperonis and an order of mozzarella sticks.
They give him access to his Twitter.
He tweets some dumb shit and gets shadow banned by that evening.
Maya is sick and tired, and the interns have shifted three times since the whole ordeal started. Bucky honestly feels a little bad. Maybe he should try to be like Scott, who not only wrote a book, finger-gunned at photographers, did an interview a week, but also agreed to a podcast and a video series about literally anything they suggested.
“Play nice,” Sam tells Bucky one evening.
It’s an off-hand comment, not even really looking at him while he says it.
Bucky doesn’t need to ask what he’s referring to, but he thinks that maybe he has gone too far.
He begrudgingly agrees.
Therefore, it begins.
They stick him in the background of a few videos. Just to interact, add his commentary on what was going on, suggestions.
Then the jokes really start.
“I just don’t got anything to add,” Bucky tries, in a failure of an attempt to justify his lack of contribution.
Maya only stares at him, but Bucky swears he can hear her curse quietly, even though her lips don’t move even a millimeter.
He is not put in another video.
And so he finds himself here.
In a meeting room that he’s convinced is barricaded from the outside so he can’t slither out the door again. Another intern with pink-tinted glasses that took up half their face.
Maya’s in the midst of explaining to him that sure, his numbers had gone up by a decimal, but that was because people had started editing him into the backgrounds of other pictures for other users to find in a perplexing take on Where’s Waldo.
“Videos seem to be working,” she ties it together. “But we need more than you just standing silently behind Captain Rogers.”
“But it’s working,” Bucky objects. “I don’t see why it has to change.”
Maya sends him a glare. Bucky decides then it’s good to shut up.
“Are you on the internet a significant amount?” the intern asks. The glasses on their face have changed colours to green. Bucky’s eyebrow furrows.
“No.”
For the next thirty minutes, he is subjected to a pop quiz about too many words ending with ‘core’, ‘coded’ and ‘eras’. He’s surprised that he knows what cottagecore is. He definitely doesn’t fucking know what a tomatogirl, nor does he want to.
“What do you like doing?” the intern enunciates, pulling up a spreadsheet of niches that had built a dedicated community around themselves over the years. “Makeup? Cleaning? Parkour?”
Bucky wonders if they’d really create a montage of him just micro cleaning the kitchen every week. It doesn’t sound half bad.
Beyond that, the only thing he can think of is woodworking, which Sam introduced him to. While he spends time creating little figures, he wouldn’t say it was–
“You really are dead silent,” the intern breaks his train of thought, tone almost that of wonder. “Guess the whole ‘ghost story for seventy years’ is more true than I thought.”
Bucky throws him a weary look, and works on unclenching the fist that tightened involuntarily.
“Was that necessary?” Maya’s voice comes coldly. “Take fifteen. Go find the other one we were supposed to meet.”
While sheepish and somewhat apologetic, the kid still looks relieved to be out of there. To be honest, Bucky isn’t really offended– he’s grown a thick skin over the years. But he also thought the guy was a little shit now.
Maya turns back to him, but Bucky finds that the table contains wonders far more interesting than the conversation at hand.
“Back to what we were talking about.” She ruffles through something on her laptop. “Puppets? History?”
He wordlessly shakes his head.
Been the former, seen too much of the latter.
Maya’s head tilts abruptly. “You like ghosts?”
He wonders if the prior conversation had anything to do with this insightful question.
Bucky shrugs. “Don’t exist.”
“Really,” Maya deadpans. “Aliens and multiversal baboons are fine, but no ghosts.”
“I’ve seen aliens and multiversal baboons. Never seen a ghost in my life,” Bucky argues right back.
“Other people have seen ghosts.”
“Good for other people.”
The door swings open right as Maya’s eyes narrow at him. Guess it wasn’t padlocked.
“Whatever it is you think I did, Maya, I didn’t. I think,” you announce in a volume too much for a closed room, stopping when you see Bucky sitting cross-armed and looking delightfully disgruntled. “Oh hey, Barnes. Fancy seeing you here.”
Bucky had met you. The newest addition to the team that had made a grand entrance a couple of weeks ago. He thinks you stay on the floor below him, but he has nothing backing this hypothesis other than the disco funk music that had started appearing at odd hours of the night.
“Please sit,” Maya cracks a smile at you that Bucky had yet to earn. “Sorry, I know our meeting is scheduled for later, but I figured we could kill two birds with one stone.”
You look between her and Bucky, who hasn’t moved an inch since you got here, much less even said hello.
“You must be really bad if Maya had to call me in,” you tell him outright. “I’m usually like, her last option.”
“Thanks,” Bucky replies dryly.
“Look, here’s my final pitch.” Maya sighs, before turning to you. “You’re new, and we need something to introduce you slowly to the public.”
“Oh, am I finally getting hard launched?” You grin, and Bucky doesn’t know what that means. “Just imagine me kicking my feet, giggling or whatever.”
“And he needs… an upgrade.” Maya’s thumb juts out towards Bucky who simply rolls his eyes.
“Right.” Your sight lands on him from across the table. “I’ve seen the memes.”
“What memes?” he grunts, because while the team had definitely seen them, it didn't occur to anyone they should show it to him. He loves them. Really. So much. Die for them.
You only look too happy to pull out your phone and start typing.
“Do you know what skinwalkers are?”
“No.”
“That’s what they say you look like, lurking in the back of all your friends’ videos,” you continue, swerving around your phone to show him.
Bucky doesn’t look impressed. He can’t say he blames them either, which makes him inexplicably maddens him.
“At least they’re calling you their boyfriend,” you add, entirely unhelpfully. “That’s gotta count.”
“Right.” Maya clears her throat. “The both of you–”
“Are getting paired together, I suppose,” you hum.
Bucky’s eyebrows pull together.
He barely knows you. Just a little bit on how you ended up here, that you enjoyed hanging out with the team, figuring out your place in the compound, and were seemingly doing a great job at it.
You were… loud. And open.
Bucky feels the compulsive need to compensate for that by doubling down on how silent he could get, as if the two of you couldn’t co-exist in the same space in equilibrium.
Maya pointedly raises a finger at you. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
“For the right price, I will believe in whatever you tell me to.”
Her face lights up brighter than Bucky's ever seen.
“Great.” Maya slams her laptop closed. “See you later.”
Bucky’s left staring as she exits, not even throwing the both of you another look.
“That was quick,” your voice cuts through the silence. “What was that all about?”
“Don’ ask me,” he grumbles, with a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what was about to follow.
“Ghost hunting?” Bucky echoes a week later, as expected.
“Yes,” Maya tells him simply. “Two of you. A series based on paranormal activity.”
“I don’t even believe in them,” he reiterates.
“That’s the point,” she emphasises. “Skeptic and believer. It makes for a good contrast.”
“Why us both?” He hopes it doesn’t come off as offensive. He just doesn’t see why he can’t do this with Sam. Even Clint, if a gun was really pressed to his head.
“I’m new, no one gives a shit about me,” you say brightly and full of promise. “Yet.”
“Exactly. It’ll be low key. Not an overwhelming number of viewers, no expectations. It’s perfect for launching one Avenger and re-launching another.”
“Sounds rad.” You grin, leaning back as your feet rest on the chair in front of you.
Maya looks relieved for a moment that at least one of you was on board. “No promises on anything. We shoot one video, and if it does well, we stick with it.”
“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky argues.
“Then you have until tomorrow morning to give us another feasible idea,” Maya dishes back.
Bucky retreats into his seat, arms crossed over his chest.
Truth be told, he considered himself to be the most boring person in the team and though he had made his peace with that, he was sure thar bringing that up now would entail Maya shooting him in the foot.
“Fine,” he agrees and the sighs around the room are loud.
He scoffs. So fucking dramatic and for what.
“Put her there, partner.” You stretch ungracefully over the large table, sticking out your hand.
Bucky eyes your hand. “Do you even believe in ghosts?”
“I do now, yeah.” You nod seriously. “Love ‘em. Can’t get enough of them.”
“One video,” Maya reminds him as a balm. “And if it doesn’t work, you’re off the hook forever.”
Off the hook? Forever? For Bucky?
Yay.
“One video,” he reiterates.
You roll your eyes before smiling when he leans forward to grab it. You yank it up and down clunkily. He blinks at you, letting go slowly.
“Thank fuck,” Maya groans, head dropping onto the table.
Your smile is wild. “Guess we’re doing this shit together.”
He doesn’t even have to look very deep in his soul. He already knows he’s going to suffer.
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!
to keep up with updates for this fic and others, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications!
also i'd absolutely love to make this a community led fic like how harmless was! if you have memes or any paranormal ideas or just any prompts in general, please please send them my way <3
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#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#mcu fic#bucky fic#bucky barnes fic#bucky fluff#bucky barnes fluff#bucky angst#bucky barnes angst#unsolved fic#winter soldier x reader#Winter Soldier#bucky barnes#bucky
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[Oh shit I did something. I wrote Val and Sam as podcasters. Warning: this is fucking stupid. I literally had to just stop writing bc it made less and less sense as I went on. But I love writing dialogue and it’s silly and this is tumblr. here have a little snack my dudes]
Graveyard Girls Episode 12: Roasting Ember’s Beauty Guru Era at 1 AM
“Hello and welcome to Local Ghost Smash or Pass—”
“I will fucking kill you.”
Valerie had to admit that Sam Manson’s ability to keep a completely straight face while saying the most unhinged nonsense was probably one of the reasons their video podcast was so popular. Her own ability to refrain from actually killing her was the reason it still existed at all. How they’d made it to episode twelve, however, still remained at least partially an enigma.
Though it was overall Danny’s kindness that slowly made his trio of friends into a tenuous quartet, Valerie had slowly become accepted by all of them, once she finally came to terms with Danny’s secret. Sam was the last to come around, though by the time they were both seventeen their tension was less due to fighting over a boy and more due to the fact that they could agree on almost nothing.
Most of Graveyard Girls was the two girls arguing, originally spawned by a viral TikTok Tucker posted, in which Valerie—at Danny’s bizarre request—tried to explain The Bachelor franchise to them and Sam being convinced she was making some of it up. People had been interested, and with Amity Park being a niche-but-also-hot topic, a weekly podcast was born.
“Okay but,” Sam leaned back in a vintage-looking office chair, “if I returned as a ghost, would you sma—” Sam cut herself off with a grunt as she dodged a throw pillow.
The show was mostly the two competing to see who could get the other to essentially rage quit, and while Sam’s personality was surprisingly just as strange as those of her best friends, Valerie was competitive enough to be a worthy opponent.
“You might just be, like, the worst person,” Valerie said, expertly catching the throw pillow as it was hurled back at her. “We’re not even three minutes in and I’m so uncomfortable with the energy you’ve created.”
“So our very last episode is three minutes long and titled Valerie Quits, then?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you Manson?” For a tense moment they stared each other down. “Say it one more time, see what happens.”
“So what is today’s topic, then?”
It was a challenge, to see if Valerie had forgotten it was her turn to start. She had.
They had the Box Ghost to thank for it, too.
“Okay, so—full disclosure,” she began, and she looked at her phone, “it is…1:16 in the morning. And both of us have been awake for like…”
“More hours than usually recommended,” Sam continued, “for reasons. We wanted to get this episode out on time so we are crunching.”
“And suffering.”
“And suffering quite a bit,” Sam concluded, nodding. “So my topic is that Ember McClain is trying to release eyeshadow palettes.”
“You cannot just drop that on me.”
“It was dropped on me,” Sam told her, “I’ve had to live with this. You don’t read the DMs for our official account so you didn’t see it and this poor lady, she has this indie cosmetics company and she slides into our DMs asking ‘is this person for real? I think she’s a ghost? She wants to collab.’”
“Collab…”
“And she sent me like…a mock up. I’m putting it in the google drive so get ready.”
Valerie picked her phone, opening their shared drive and—sure enough—seeing a digital version of a very Ember-esque palette, showcasing both dark and neon shades.
“She’s unhinged. But like…some of the shimmers on here aren’t terrible.”
“That’s the thing—I don’t like the bright blues and greens but there’s potential here. I could make a look out of it.”
“I’ve got conditions—if she wants to start the beauty guru era of her ‘career’ I need a full press release saying it’s not a complex murder plot,” Valerie said.
“I swear under penalty of perjury that I’m not imprisoning your parents in hamster wheels to power my sound system,” Sam affected an impression that would positively enrage the ghostly pop star as she spun around in her chair.
“My mad power-grab via subliminal mind control is so over, okay? That was the old me. Get to fucking swatching.” Valerie continued, snickering. “We kid, but this is actually peak influencer already.”
“We’re writing her YouTube apology for her,” Sam said, and she trained her eyes on the camera before continuing, “you cannot use this. I know you’re watching, I said your name once, and your Obsession is name-searching the universe. You have to do your own YouTube apology.”
“We should edit her name out before we upload.”
“We should.”
“…We’re not going to.”
“No, and a certain somebody’s gonna be on my ass about it. We should perhaps move on…”
#danny phantom#sam manson#valerie gray#like what if I just wrote them as two weirdos talking about weird shit#that’s what I did#fanfic
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I'm so close to catching up with my books! Here we have the triumph of time, again, as a vellucent binding, again. And this may not look super different to you from my last iteration of this project! The differences were VERY process-driven and hard to photograph, but I pinky swear that there are incremental but noticeable improvements, and i would never mix up editions irl.
First up, refresher, vellucent binding is when there's a protective layer of vellum floating over your cover illustration, protecting it. Or. If you're cheap. Paper vellum. My first time around, I realized as soon as I got the vellum paper wet that oh shit, this REALLY has a grain, and it is the opposite of what my books want. It's the first time I've ever been punished for ignoring grain, though, so I can't complain. I pressed on anyways, because what is even the point of fucking around if you aren't bold enough to find out? As a result, my vellum on the first set has noticeable wrinkles, despite only the turn-ins being glued down, and it all floats more than i wish. You have to smooth it with your fingers to really SEE the detail in the images.
So, naturally, my second time, I got bigger vellum paper, covered the whole thing in paste, plopped my covers onto there, and planned to smooth the wrinkles out. Yeahhhh, that... it was fairly forgiving in the one volume with a primarily white background, and was a goddamn nightmare on the three illustrations.
Lesson one: paper vellum is like a sandworm that wants to curl up and die at the first touch of moisture. Lesson two: it wants to hurt you. PUNISH you. Lesson three: no seriously it is so much more difficult and unforgiving than any other material I've sampled yet. The wallet cost of actual vellum may be outweighed by the emotional cost of this shit.
Naturally, I am bewitched and determined to science it into submission.
For the record: v1 (turn-ins glued, wrong grain) in the bottom left, v2 (paste everywhere, abandoned on the curb without text blocks to warp and writhe as they please) in the top center, and v3 (turn-ins glued, correct grain, more effort to pull tension on the vellum) in the bottom right. I'm not done experimenting by any means, but i need to stop for a minute until i nail the process, to save my poor toner cartridges
But the books themselves! Even though i still see ways to polish my own process, i am DELIGHTED with them. The pull of the paper vellum still wants to introduce slack and wrinkles to the cover as it dries, but there's much less! The moment you get adhesive on paper vellum you commit to a fight to the death, but I'm getting better at handling and anticipating it!
There's a level of polish in the assembly of this set that was lacking in my first and second attempts at the covers. Even if it isn't perfect yet, I'm learning so much, and have new ideas for how to troubleshoot. The idea of making this bookbinding style more accessible and affordable fills me with so much delight, I can't even articulate it. I'm still very much an amateur myself, there are lots of professional best practices I can only speak to in the abstract. Pinning down something this niche and luxurious would make me so happy. Future science will be done on single-volume sets, probably after I'm done moving, but it's at the top of my to do list!! And when it's perfected, I'm for SURE coming back to this series, it's one of my all-time faves, I want to give it the fanciest treatment my hands can devise.
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Today on Mhairi's niche idea for an AU that she desperately would like someone to write or direct her to, astronaut!reader x alien!141. Thoughts below the cut!
Reader is on a mission gone wrong, whole thing goes to absolute shit and you are the sole survivor who made it back to the ship
You're already panicked, you are alone in space having only just managed to do a launch back off the surface of the planet the team was studying
Mission control is doing their best to send instructions because one person trying to get home alone is going to be damn tricky
It starts with misplacing things, swearing that something is not where you left it or that you must have eaten an extra ration because the numbers don't add up
Then you swear you start seeing someone around the ship, always just in the corner of your eye, multiple someones
You think you are going crazy and just scream into the void of the ship a lot of the time, knowing you are very far from home and won't see another person for months
One day you really know shits fucked when you wake up to find the ship is no longer heading to earth and the comms unit has been ripped out
Cue weeks or even months of space travel to somewhere unknown and you know you are not alone, but you can never catch who or what is on this ship with you
It's a cat and mouse game now, you trying every trick to catch them out as they get more and more bold with their teasing (because that's what it is you realise, they are playing with you)
Yeah bless him but Soap is def getting caught first because he snuggles up in your bed with you and you wake up before he does
Do I know what flavour of alien the 141 are? No, absolutely not, but I can tell you right now they are still soldiers
And while their orders are to bring back a human so it can be decided if they are a threat and need to be studied further, they are starting to find you a little too endearing
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so you wanna write a heartbreak high fic, but you're american...
As an Australian who writes fanfic for Glee (which is American), it's interesting seeing kind of the opposite thing happen with Heartbreak High, which is very much an Australian show (even though there's a couple things here and there that I'll get into in this post), and I thought I'd offer my perspective as someone who grew up and went to school in Sydney (and is also very autistic and detail-oriented). I think this might be the first time an Australian teen drama has gone mainstream, but there's a lot of specific cultural things in Australia that tend to get lost in fanfiction.
So, without further ado, here is your guide to how to write about high school in Australia (or if you just want to learn about Australia, here tis).
(Disclaimer: this is mostly based on my experience living in NSW where Heartbreak High is filmed and set, but there might be some subtle differences in other states)
{This is a photo from Maroubra Bay High School, which doesn't exist anymore and is now the location where Heartbreak High is filmed}
Basic things: The school year starts at the end of January and ends in mid-December, and is broken up into 4 10-week terms, with two weeks holiday between each term and 5-6 weeks at Christmas. We're in the Southern Hemisphere, and February is an absolute nightmare weather-wise. In New South Wales (NSW), you're in primary school from years K-6 and high school from years 7-12. People generally refer to the grade they're in as "year #" or sometimes "grade #". If you go to a public school, it's usually with kids from your local area. Primary schools are usually called [Suburb Name] Public School (sometimes there's a "north" or "west" or even a street name instead; high schools are generally [Suburb Name] High School. School starts around 8:30 and ends at around 3. There's recess in the morning (usually around 11am) and lunch in the afternoon (usually around 1-1:30pm). Kids will either bring their own lunch or buy from the canteen, which these days is generally meant to be "healthy". The legal drinking age here is 18; that being said, it is not illegal for parents to let their children drink alcohol at home under their supervision (so if a 16-year-old's dad lets them have a beer at home, they're not going to get charged with supplying alcohol to a minor). Drinking culture in Australia is pretty feral and pretty much every social gathering involves alcohol. The youngest you can be to start school is turning 5 on or before the 31st July and the latest you can start is the year you turn 6; most parents, particularly those that are more well-off and can afford that extra year of preschool/childcare, start their kids the year they turn 6 (even if they turn 6 in January), so most teenagers will turn 18 during year 12 (which generally involves, parties, drinking and pubs). I did not. I turned 18 the day after O-week at uni ended, which is my villain origin story, but in some instances, a kid who is a month away from turning 19 will be in the same year 12 class as a kid who turned 17 four months ago without having repeated any grades.
Language & Slang: Australian slang is so niche that I'm just going to link you to this document, but just be aware that some of this shit is outdated and not used by anyone not named Alf Stewart, so use your better judgement. Thongs are a pair of shoes. Prawns are seafood (not shrimp; no one says "throw shrimp on the barby"). Australians swear a lot. Some of my favourite swears are "get fucked", "fuckwit", "fucknuckle", "shitcunt" and many others. We use "cunt" as a term of endearment and often use "mate" to be as passive aggressive as possible (call your mates "cunt" and cunts "mate"). Nobody fucking says "g'day mate" (and, while we're at it, nobody fucking drinks Fosters).
Uniform: Hartley High is a non-uniform school. This is actually extremely rare in Australia and I think there's only like 1 or 2 mainstream schools in NSW with no uniform. The vast majority of Australian schools have uniforms ranging from the typical stuffy blazer-and-straw-hat combo at the likes of Shore and Scots to a simple polo shirt and footy shorts/trackies in your average rural or regional public school. In the original series from the 90s, it's established that the school did at one point have a uniform that was a plot point in an episode where Nick Poulos (the main character at the time) is elected class captain to the chagrin of conservative teacher and football coach Bill Southgate. Other schools in the area would probably have a uniform; the school where it was filmed is now closed, but I did find a picture that shows what the uniform once looked like (see above).
Geography: Hartley High is located in the South Sydney/Eastern Suburbs area, so feel free to incorporate a little Rabbitohs/Roosters rivalry into your fic for that extra bit of authenticity. We play rugby here, which Australians also call "footy". Australian Rules Football (AFL) is also colloquially called "footy", which can get very confusing. Private schools (like the one where Darren's fuck buddy Jacob goes) tend to favour rugby union. Pretty much everyone (and I mean everyone) has a rugby league team they support. For example, I'm a Rabbitohs supporter, my mum is a Cowboys supporter and my dad is a Broncos supporter. There's also State of Origin, which is NSW vs Queensland (basically you support the state you were born in but some people jump on the Queensland bandwagon whenever they're winning ... fuckwits).
Classes and Timetables: Timetables here operate fortnightly, so it's not overly common to have the same class at the same time every day. Generally there's a rollcall class in the morning for 20 minutes where teachers do things like read notices, hand out notes and check uniforms and phones (I'm pretty sure the NSW education department actually just banned the use of phones in schools), then you'll typically have two classes, then recess, then another two classes, then lunch, then maybe one or two classes followed by home time.
Here is a summary of everything kids in New South Wales have to learn in high school:
Stage 4 (Years 7-8): English, Maths, Science, HSIE (History/Geography), TAS (e.g. cooking, sewing, metal work, woodwork, digital technology), CAPA (generally just music and art but can also include dance and drama), PDHPE (theory and prac), LOTE (my school offered French and Italian, but there's a massive variety of languages on offer and a lot of schools actually teach the local Aboriginal language).
Stage 5 (Years 9-10): English, Maths, Science, HSIE, PDHPE and electives. The number of electives that can be chosen vary from school to school, but some popular examples are PASS, Art, Drama, Music, Food Tech, Metal, Woodwork. Some schools offer things like STEM as an elective and others offer, say, two electives and have all students undertaking some kind of STEM class. What my school did was offer four electives - two for year 9 and 10 and then two for just year 9 because Australian History and Australian Geography would take up those extra two timeslots. I chose Music, Italian, Drama and, for some reason, extension maths.
Stage 6 (Year 11-12): this is the lead up to the HSC, and it's where things start to get complicated so ... everyone has to study English (Advanced, Standard, Studies, Extension and EALD) and I think Maths (Advanced, Standard, Extension and a course called Numeracy which is more everyday numeracy in society), then a whole bunch of subject choices that can be found here, and the HSC has no requirements as to the types of subjects you can study (e.g. there's no language requirement, science requirement etc. like in the US; you got that shit out of the way in stages 4 and 5). There are also VET subjects that give you a TAFE qualification when you finish them which is nice (most popular one is Hospitality). Then you get your HSC at the end of year 12.
This was so long that there is going to be a part 2 (apparently there's a lot to know about living in NSW and going to school there and it's longer than 4000 characters), so stay tuned for things like student leadership, sport, extracurricular stuff, uni (this is probably the area that's the most different from the US) and whatever other extraneous things I can think of.
#heartbreak high#fanfic advice#life in australia#basically a guide to how to write about school in australia if you're american
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♥️💎👤🎨
Holy shit!! You asked!! Thank you!
♥️: I love the headcanon that Sherlock is POC. It’s one that I personally think should be canon and I love how the fandoms allowed the diversity and the show offers it also. I also love the idea that John probably has ADHD, just hasn’t been diagnosed.
💎: too many to count, but probably the ‘Memory is a tricky thing’ from the Gloria Scott case. I think I fell more in love with John and Sherlock for that. It was a genuine, heart to heart conversation that made me cry. We learnt so much about John and a hint to Sherlocks potential loneliness was there; and it was heartbreaking and loving at the same time.
this podcast, man.
👤: Mycroft, if I’m honest. I’m interested to see how they’d interpret Sherlocks brother and if they have that sibling bond they deserve (a good example of how I see it is BBC Sherlock Sherlock and Mycroft.) Oh and Lestrade. I am so looking forward to see how they’re presented in future episodes.
🎨: Mariana I see as a beautiful Spanish woman who will cuss you out in Spanish and is not afraid to throw hands when pissed enough. She wears glasses I’m sure. Would be educated on some really niche topic, outside of expectations and it shocks both Sherlock and John. Sherlock I visualise as a relatively tall gremlin, warm, dark skin, eye bags heavy enough to fly from Heathrow to Soeul Airport, black hair (I can’t decide long or short?) but definitely curly. Wears hoodies as they’re sensory preferable to him. All his clothes have cut out tags. And of course, his headphones!! I also swear he’d have the baby brown eyes that men just have and makes me go feral.
John I see as a probably 5”6 guy, with a scarred leg, walks with a limp, beer belly, mustache, blue eyes like ice, and dirty blonde hair. Wears flannel shirts and tan shorts, that sort of guy. Greenish blue eyes that reminds you of the sea at high tide on a sunny day.
Headcanon characters? I see Mycroft being slightly shorter than Sherlock, but slicked back hair, crooked nose, glasses, and slightly lighter skin. Neat appearance and would not swear until prompted. Darkish, black eyes that bear into your soul. Small glasses for funsies/aesthetics. He hates denim so would rather die in hell then be seen in jeans.
Posh tone of voice but would swear like a cockney when pissed off enough. For Lestrade I see a tired black woman, braided hair, eye bags like Sherlock’s and done with everyone’s shit. Probably someone with strong arms and really good to cuddle. Rarely smiles and rarely gets a compliment but would be so comforting and so motherly when she wanted to be. Wears her badge with honour and puts up with Sherlocks shit.
thanks for reading and asking about one of my favourite podcasts!!!!
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i have SO many thoughts about chain of thorns so if you haven’t read it yet SCROLL AGGRESSIVELY PAST THIS because i’m shamelessly using this post to collect my thoughts and not forget the book.
okay so the best things ever are as follows:
1. SHUT UP THOMAS! god i loved every single time that line came up. like yes you simp, it is embarrassing but also yes alastair is literal perfection and nobody blames you, baby.
2. okay this one is kinda niche-ish but i just loved every time jesse interacted w the merry thieves, like obviously he was always going to interact w them but just the visual of james, matthew and jesse training together gave me sm fckin serotonin.
3. james and matthew. okay i REALLY wish we got to see more of them repairing their friendship and talking and shit but whatever we DID get made me cry every single time. like every time matthew smiled at him or wtv i was just crying, i swear im not even that emotional.
4. actually the amount of merry thieves content, just every scene where thomas and christopher are trying to mend matthew and james, i was a MESS by the time i reached the sleeping in front of the fire scene fr
5. jordelia smut. lol.
6. lucie and jesse’s dynamic, like everyone expected jesse to be kinda silent and reserved but 3 seconds w lucie and he’s as witty as matthew.
7. the watchers plotline, i literally thought that was so clever tbh
8. JAMES SHOWING UP IN PARIS! LMAO THIS MADE ME REACT SO EXPRESSIVELY, no i literally almost passed out. it was fucking AWESOME, i will definitely reread that scene every time i feel like i need an adrenaline rush.
9. lucie admiring cordelia’s boobs <3
10. THE FIRE MESSAGES!! i was j really happy to see kit, grace and jesse be helpful because they were all constantly treated as useless throughout the book/series.
11. EUGENIA! she was just a delight, i really thought there was some matthew/eugenia setting up going on but alas. i j loveed her vibe throughout the book
12. esme hardcastle, scholars and historians HATE her! not me tho, she’s so real for forever messing up the perception of the shadowhunter families for generations to come
NOW FOR THE BAD THINGS (there are a lot, i have issues w this book)
1. NOTHING TERRIBLE HAPPENS TO MATTHEW. i LOVE matthew okay, he’s my fav in tlh but ALL THAT BUILDUP FOR NOTHING??? i was waiting and waiting so patiently. when belial took him to edom i was like ‘this is it, he’ll torture matthew to get to james, and some irreparable shit happens to him’ but NOTHING?? i was like actually pissed off, i really wanted something to happen lol. and idk if cassie’s going to write a spinoff on matthew but thats the only way she can explain the fact that tessa has reminisced sadly about matthew MULTPILE TIMES!
2. the fckin love triangle. it annoyed me and always has. i feel like christopher and thomas were right and that matthew saw cordelia as some sort of salvation for him, that made complete sense. BUT THEY NEVER BRING IT UP AGAIN! during the epilogue when matthew and cordelia talk i was SURE he’d tell her he didn’t think he atually loved her but he. did. not. i was immensely disappointed. i think i was j overall disappointed w matthew’s plotline the whole time tbh </3
3. intermission grief. okay cassandra clare is really fckin good at writing character deaths and how other character’s react to it so i was so so excited to see how people were going to react. i was prepared to absolutely sob my guts off. but i did not shed a single tear. this might j be a me thing tbh but still. i feel like there was wayyy too much going on and it didn’t feel like an ‘intermission’. i get that the plot was firing up and many things were meant to happen and that it was a critical time, but i wish there was more sadness to it.
4. okay look. im gay, i’m very gay and i wish awesome things for all gay people. but this WAS the edwardian era, i think it was wayy too idealistic for cassie to make all the parents totally fine w their kids being gay. like ari was the only one who faced any repercussions but even alec 100 years later faced more than her yk? that plotline just did not make sense to me
5. i know this book is about the next generation but i feel like chog and choi had a healthy amount of tid characters, but they were barely there in this one and i miss them.
6. cordelia and lucie becoming parabatai. this one was so stupid to me, like they spent almost 60% of the book fighting. and maybe if the parabatai age was like 20 or sumthn it would’ve made sense but the book was literally several reasons for them not to be parabatai but doing it anyway.
7. the plotholes? idk if they’ll be resolved in later books but i really wanted to know some stuff yk. how is rupert still stuck? when does lucie throw away the beautiful cordelia and let it be stashed in the devil tavern? how does matthew’s flask show up at the tavern?
8. this is not a bad thing but im kinda confused, so like since the family tree is all messed up are the current blackthorns related to lucie and jesse? or are they related to the american blackthorn branch? I NEED TO KNOW
aand thats it. i also wanted to note that he phrase ‘cordelia ran’ was used approximately 4847904 times. happy chot week everyone!!
#tsc#tlh#chain of thorns#chain of gold#chain of iron#james herondale#lucie herondale#Cordelia Carstairs#Matthew Fairchild#thomas lightwood#christopher lightwood#jordelia#thomstair#thomastair#luciejesse#ghostwriter#the last hours#will herondale#tessa gray#anna lightwood#jesse blackthorn#grace blackthorn#alastair carstairs#chain of thorns spoilers#chot spoilers
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I'm so tired of this "baby-proofing" of the internet and pop culture. And no, I don't consider warning for sensitive topics/words to be baby-proofing.
(Warning: Mentions of common trigger words below.)
Can't say words like death or sex or suicide-- can't say swear words-- can't post even tasteful nudity or sexual content, much less all your niche fetishistic things-- without worrying about the banhammer or being censored or having your content removed. And yet, we do need content moderation-- within reason. A balance needs to be struck between legitimately harmful content and everything else.
There is no easy answer to this. Bots do not solve the problem of weeding out things that are uploaded with ill/harmful/illegal intent and there are horror stories out there (feel free to look up what human filters go through on YouTube) of actual people gettiing rapidly burned out because of having to weed out the millions of GB of absolute shit being dumped online every hour. This is nothing to say of content that helps spread inflammatory rhetoric and misinformation but is not outright graphic--and where the line on that is drawn varies from person to person. A robot cannot make a call on all these perfectly and neither can a team of people due to the sheer volume.
The last ten years, I've seen this spread into online culture where people are increasingly unable, unequipped, unwilling (or all of the above) to address more tough/sensitive topics in a productive manner.
What it comes down to, in my opinion, is corporatization of western culture (speaking for the hemisphere I live in and am most familiar with). The "corporatization" of culture has been going on for a long, long time, it's true. But at least for a time, the internet was a "wild west", a pocket of culture and subcultures that wasn't monetized, commodified, sanitized, and whitewashed for mass marketing appeal--it's easier to reach the widest audience if your content is bland enough to be palettable to the lowest common denominator.
It's been upsetting, to say the least, to watch the rapid sandblasting of so many things I love--including, but not limited to: Video games, social media, online spaces in general.
The only way I can think to effectively fight this can be summed up in one word: Education.
Read books. Take free/cheap courses on media literacy from reputable sources. Look up effective ways to communicate with other people. Learn how to debate and present arguments and how to listen, in turn. Try to learn how to stop yourself when you're getting emotional about anything and ask yourself: Why am I upset about this? What will flying off the handle do? Am I justified in speaking out? If I'm justified, is this really the time/place to speak out? Learn how to hold your tongue--not because of other people but to protect yourself and your mental health from overextending and from bringing eyes on you when you aren't ready for those consequences. Learn to read and speak in good faith.
All of these things take consistent practice. Culture can't be changed overnight and neither can you, but how those changes start to stick is by all of us practicing and changing over time.
We don't need to put up with the sanitization of our world by people who will be dead in a few decades. Gen Z and Millennials and even Gen X have already had so much stolen from us; I don't want to see them take it all. We have to build our own world brick by brick in the crumbling remnants of the past and that vibrant and good place starts with educating ourselves and each other.
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right so dog imagery dabi is so insane and I tried to look up dog poems and all that came up was laika so yeah. ‘I know I will die but that is fine’ ‘she had so little time left to live’ ‘we kissed her nose and wished her bon voyage, knowing that she would not survive the flight’ ‘and they call me laika, but I'd just like to say that I was born little curly and I'll die with that name’ ‘the more time passes, the more I'm sorry about it. we shouldn't have done it... we did not learn enough from this mission to justify the death of the dog’ ‘surely they'll come to get me. surely they didn't love me all that time for this’ ‘I'm a halfway thing, more bullet than dog’ ‘laika to ground control I miss you. if you would come out here and pet me I swear to dog I'll be good, never bark again’ ‘what you’re about to do will live on forever even though you’ll be dead and gone’ ‘I took the collar off I’m holding my own leash and walking myself outside this door. I don’t think I want to be a good dog anymore’ oh I’m feeling SICK he was raised to die they don’t expect him to come home they both quite literally BURNED UP! even a parachute would’ve shown that they cared. but they don’t. don’t sink in me with your dog teeth don’t sink in me with your dog teeth don’t sink in me with your dog teeth
once again me and aiaia remain on a very weird niche radio wave yet our frequencies are perfectly matched like YOU GET IT i went through sooo many title ideas before settling on dog teeth for the touya wip and like yeah it's the god's country ethel cain of it all but also there's a reason dog days is one of my top ethel songs ever like i fr see the word dog in media and lose my shit. dog imagery, specifically teeth, is so so compelling to me and laika is just the beginning. like touya is so laika coded he's a failed experiment he's an uncomfortable tragedy he wasn't worth the progress he accomplished he's out of sight out of mind. but it's more than that. dogs as the ultimate symbol of obedience, of submission, yet existing at once as symbols of aggression. we took this wild animal and made it palatable to the point its predecessors would tear it to shreds. we took this wild animal and filed down the claws and pulled out the canines and told it to sit and be good. sit and be good and be silent. we kill them when they bite. they are a lesser creature begging at the dinner table for attention. you walk a fine line between god and animal, dont sink into me with your dog teeth. i get mean when im nervous like a bad dog. they are animals burdened with our own moral system that we forced on them but they are animals and i think the fascination i have with dog teeth as a theme specifically is that they are the proof of it. a dog can lick your hand and sit when told, it can be good, but inside its mouth are teeth made for tearing. even a good dog bites. even a good dog kills. sometimes they do it in an attempt to be good, placing a bloody carcass at your feet. a dead bird, neck snapped, teeth stained red. they do not understand our human horror. they dont know why we're shouting. you must learn to love, to love always and love entirely and to be wounded by nothing so much as the violence of your own love. you must learn to be confused but never disappointed by a deficiency of love. You must give up your children and not know why. you must lose yourself wholly in activity; you must never feel an itch that you do not scratch. you must learn how to wait at the foot of the bed and hope, silently, that somebody is drunk enough or lonely enough to invite you up, and you must learn not to show your excitement too much or overplay your hand. if you want to be a dog, you must learn to believe that you are not in fact a dog at all. we forced upon them a language of love and never taught them fluency. they stutter over too-sharp teeth and mispronounce old instincts. we made it so the only thing that mattered was if they were a good dog or not, anything else was irrelevant. do not bite the hand that feeds you. do not question the person that owns you. and the tools that are the very essence of the real animal are pulled out. i will remove all my teeth because i want to remain kind despite my anger. spitting love past bloody gums, never ever getting enough to be sated.
#characters that tried so hard to be good and to fit a mould just to find out there was nothing they could have done to ever be good enough#because it was an inherently impossible standard to reach and they are inherently imperfect with their dog teeth and claws#and the realisation of that shatters them into no more than a vicious animal never to be petted again hiiiiiiii#you would not believe the motifs i can force upon you <3#ask#touya todoroki
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Thess vs 'The Novel'
So I was drifting through the headlines my phone suggests for me, and one caught my eye, from the Financial Times. Now, while I didn't read the article (mostly because I'm pretty sure the FT is paywalled all to fuck), the headline by itself was enough to throw me into one of those rants that my friends mostly love to watch from minimum safe distance because apparently I am very eloquent and kind of amusing when I'm passionate about something but no one wants to be in splash radius of my rage.
The title went thus:
"Are video games coming for the novel?"
.........
Short answer: no.
Long answer: noooooooooooooooooooooo.
Detailed answer: THEY ARE TWO ENTIRELY DIFFERENT MEDIA, YOU INSUFFERABLE STRING BEAN!
First of all ... novels and video games fit into entirely different niches in a person's life. You are probably not going to be playing Baldur's Gate 3 while waiting for your bus. You are not going to do a private livestream of whatever the current Super Mario game is as a bedtime story for your children.
And some people? Just can't play video games. A book is accessible to everyone - with braille or large-print books, with audiobooks or text-readers... Hell, with ebooks so you don't have to hold up a heavy-ass book and turn pages. There are days I hurt too badly to put hands to mouse and keyboard to play a game but I can hold my Kindle with the right support. And a book doesn't require you to have a certain skill level before you can get to the end of the story. When I pick up my copy of the latest Toby Daye novel, it doesn't ask me to do a little jig before I can turn to the next page.
Hell, sometimes we don't have time to play a video game where we do have time to read a book. Some games have a lack of save points as a point of pride, whereas a book will always be there to pick up ... and frankly to open wherever you want, whenever you want, at whatever stage you want. I can't skip the entire Lothering section of DA2 and move straight to Kirkwall, but I can skip Alex Price flashbacks about seeing his first couatl.
Not to mention, you get more variety in novels. While there's a lot of shovelware kicking around Steam, there are a couple of centuries of books out there; more all the time. And y'know what else? The person that wrote those novels? They almost certainly cared more about the story than a lot of AAA game company execs will let their writers care about the story sort of haphazardly stapling The Next Big Blockbuster Game together.
(Okay, sometimes that's a bad thing - looking at you, Stephenie Meyer, and yes I read each and every one of those novels and if that's your thing then gods bless but holy fuck if I had to look at the passive voice one more time I was going to scream - but still. Passion for the craft.)
I'm not shitting on video game writers, by the way. Some of them do great work. Hell, I've heard more inspiring lines from video game characters than I have from just about any politician in the last ten years. Just ... sometimes you want all the words. That's the problem here - the devaluation of just words. Writers can give you a full sensory experience with nothing more than ink on paper and ... I guess they probably use laser printers now, when they're not ebooks. Sometimes we just want that.
I think the problem is that frankly, books don't get enough press. People don't go berserk for books the way they do for video games or TV shows. Hell, if a book doesn't spawn a movie, TV series or, frankly, a video game (looking at you, Witcher - YES there was also the Netflix series but it was novel series, then video game, then Netflix series), most people aren't very vocal about their interest. And it's not like publishers are doing anything like a decent job of promoting their authors - not unless said authors are already verified money-makers. Which ... the way they're going, the only reason they have any new verified money-makers is sheer dumb luck.
I swear to the gods, people make up these stupid clickbaity headlines and ... I mean, it's the Financial Times. They look at "Video Games = Story + Shiny Pictures + All The Marketing" and "Novels = We Hear Nothing About this" and don't think about the dozen or so people they saw looking at a book, an e-reader or their phone (which is at least sometimes an e-reader app) on the daily commute, in the break room, at the local Starbucks... Nobody wants to have the ability to experience all aspects of their fictional escapism restricted to a medium that's entirely dependent on a certain skill set.
Dear Financial Times: do not come for "the novel" just because they don't generate the same buzz as video games do. Actually think for five seconds about what you're saying here. The format may change; one day we may in danger of losing dead-tree press the same way we did the floppy disc. But the craft of telling stories with written words alone? That can't be replaced with "Press X To Not Die".
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Knight
Part of the Gemini AU.
Yoongi prides himself on being a professional in the boardroom. You seem to be determined to crack his facade.
Pairing: Yoongi x F!reader
Rating: 18+
Genre: Non idol AU, smut
Word count: 6.6k
Warnings: Sexually explicit scenes, swearing
Tagging: @reliablemitten 💜
Yoongi photos credit: https://mahoneysuga.tumblr.com/post/676347943253671936/suga-bts-the-fact-photobook-special-edition
Min Yoongi is bored. He re-reads the inscription along his gold pen for the millionth time as he waits for his finance VP to get to the point.
Fuck them all. We’re Mins.
It was a gag gift from his twin sister a few Christmases ago, an ostentatious 24k solid gold because she knows he hates shit like that.
The conference room doors are thrown open, and a woman walks into the room.
You’re wearing a grey cashmere coat, belted at the waist, and sky-high heels.
Yoongi follows the line of your calf up to the knee, where the hem of the coat swishes.
You’re undoing the knot of the belt, pulling the lapels of the coat apart, and for a split second Yoongi wonders if you’re going to pull out a gun.
Instead, he’s suddenly confronted with your stunning tits, hoisted up and displayed to perfection in red lace.
The coat drops to the floor, and thank God, Minho, his finance VP, has finally shut up.
Yoongi watches, non-plussed, as you climb onto the large oval conference table, wearing nothing but scraps of red lace, and strut your way along it, heels clicking on the mahogany.
You stop inches from his face, and put your foot on his chest.
Yoongi’s got a sudden urge to lick up your taut calf.
You lean close, and you smile. You jerk your thumb to the projected image. ‘The numbers are wrong,’ you say. ‘Re-zoning costs went up last quarter.’
You slide off the table, pick up your coat, and leave as abruptly as you came in.
Yoongi’s a lot amused, more than a little aroused and one thing’s for certain. He’s sure as hell not bored anymore.
***
It takes him an hour to track you down.
You walk into his office, now dressed demurely in a dove grey silk dress.
Yoongi wonders if you’ve kept the same underwear on.
You take a seat in front of him.
‘If you’re going to fire me, don’t drag it out,’ you say.
Yoongi tilts his head at you. ‘I don’t drag anything out.’
He’s lying, of course. He loves delaying gratification in bed.
You look at him like you know what he’s thinking.
Yoongi says, ‘You were right about the numbers. And it seemed to me like that stunt this morning was about getting my attention. Now you have it. What can I do for you?’
You look at him like you weren’t expecting him to say that.
Yoongi knows he’s got a reputation. For being ruthless in business, proud of his family heritage and a serial womaniser.
He’s also impatient, although he saves his best snark for his annoying twin.
You open your mouth.
Yoongi waits.
‘My brother’s started his own company. His niche is edge computing. I want you to mentor him.’
Although you took a while to get started, now that you’re talking you don’t seem to be able to stop.
‘He’s talented but he needs someone to help him make business decisions. Someone like you. If you could meet with him, just hear him out, I’d be more than grateful.’
Yoongi admires your balls, your scrappiness.
‘I’d be happy to,’ he says.
You stare at him, a smile dawning on your face. ‘Really? Thank you. That means so much.’
You look worried. ‘Are you firing me?’
Yoongi shrugs. ‘You pointed out a mistake that my finance VP didn’t see. Part of the reason I called you in here was to promote you.’
The smile on your pretty face is infectious as you thank him. ‘I told him,’ you say, standing to go. ‘I told him you had a sister and you’d see me as just a sister standing up for her brother.’
Yoongi stands too. ‘Actually, if you wanted me to see you as a sister,’ he says, leaning close to make sure you’re listening, ‘you shouldn’t have paraded in front of me in lingerie.’
You avert your eyes.
Yoongi nods. ‘Set up an appointment with my assistant. Tell her it’s fine to overbook me.’
He waits until you’re at the door.
‘And, Y/N,’ he says, ‘I don’t want any more stunts like that at work. I’ve got enough of a rep outside of work as it is.’
You nod. ‘It won’t happen again,’ you promise.
***
Yoongi walks into the dining room and immediately steps out again.
He waits until his twin sister opens the door, looking for him.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, I wanted to give you time to finish getting dressed,’ he says, staring pointedly at the gold sheath she’s wearing, slashed to the navel.
She rolls her eyes. ‘It’s Versace. I saw you flirting with a woman wearing much less than this at the Kims’ wedding anniversary.’
Yoongi lets her back into the dining room before stepping in himself.
‘We were together in the womb, Yoongi,’ she says dramatically.
Yoongi raises an eyebrow. ‘I have no desire to relive that experience. Where’s Park?’
Her fingers ghost over the ruby choker she’s wearing. 'Jimin’s flying back in from Munich tonight,’ she says.
Yoongi fights the urge to roll his eyes at her lovestruck smile.
His mother walks up to him. ‘She looks beautiful,’ she says, smiling at both of them.
‘What’s this I hear about a female employee walking naked into your Monday morning meeting?’ his father asks. ‘Have you dismissed her?’
Yoongi drawls, ‘No, I’ve promoted her.’
He enjoys the expressions on everyone’s faces, probably more than he should.
***
Lee Minjun is your younger brother. Yoongi can see the family resemblance. He’s got the same face shape as you.
Minjun’s arranged to meet him in his apartment after work. It’s down the road from where Yoongi’s twin sister used to live.
There’s a hunger in him that Yoongi understands, coupled with a keen intelligence, and even more importantly, a self-awareness that he likes. Yoongi thinks he’ll go far.
Yoongi’s been working for the company since he was just out of university, and with his experience and Minjun’s drive, he’s got a good feeling about all this.
Minjun wants to talk about marketing his services, and Yoongi’s got a few contacts he can call upon. He’s scrolling through his phone when you walk into the room.
Again Yoongi’s struck by how different you look to the woman who paraded in front of his board in lingerie and the woman in the tasteful dove grey dress. Today, you’re wearing a sweater and jeans, hair tied back.
‘Shit,’ you say, when you see him. ‘I’m working from home today, boss.’
Yoongi rolls his eyes. ‘I don’t care where you work from as long as you’re producing results.’
‘I spotted some fine print in the most recent patent application today that no one was aware of. That’s going to save you having to re-apply,’ you volunteer. You go to the fridge and toss him a beer.
Yoongi nods. ‘Sung-ho gave you credit for it.’
‘Ah, if you knew that, why were you looking at me like that?’ you ask.
Yoongi raises an eyebrow. ‘That was your guilty conscience.’
He cracks open his beer, and you and Minjun exchange glances.
‘Shall I order some food in?’ you suggest. ‘What’ll you have, Yoongi?’
Yoongi shakes his head politely. ‘I’ve got dinner plans, but thank you for asking.’
He finishes off his beer as he fires off a few texts and then stands. ‘See you in a couple of weeks?’ he asks. Minjun stands too, a little awkwardly.
‘If it’s going to be a regular thing, I should work out an arrangement to repay you, for your time,’ Minjun says.
You’re both looking at him, and there’s so much hope on your faces Yoongi’s endeared.
‘Give Leehom a call and we’ll work something out,’ he suggests. Leehom is his father’s right hand man, and he’s smart, practical and a goddamn decent human being, somewhat a rarity in the business.
You walk him out. ‘Thanks so much, Yoongi.’ You look at him a moment, head tilted. ‘I should have just asked you.’
Yoongi nods. ‘I don’t know why you didn’t.’
***
Yoongi pulls up at the restaurant and hands his keys to the valet.
The restaurant his date’s suggested for dinner is buzzing, a hot new Japanese-Peruvian fusion place.
Yoongi gives his name at the door and is led to a secluded table at the back. It’s perfect. Areum, his date, is late as usual, it’s only their third date but she’d kept him waiting the last two times as well.
Yoongi’s phone rings as he waits. It’s his twin.
‘Are you busy?’
‘Not yet,’ Yoongi says. ‘I’m waiting for Areum.’
‘Ah, is she the one?’
Yoongi smiles. ‘I don’t believe in ‘the one’.’
‘Yeah, imagine being stuck with you the rest of one’s life,’ she says. ‘Min-prisoned.’
Yoongi only smiles because he knows she can’t see him.
Then she sighs. ‘Jungkook just called. He really likes the date he’s bringing to the black and white ball next week, and he’s asked if you can refrain from doing your fuckboy thing on her. His words, not mine.’
Yoongi rolls his eyes. ‘Did Jeon Jungkook just call me a fuckboy?’
‘Name your price,’ she says. ��I owe Jungkook one.’
‘You don’t owe anyone a damn thing,’ Yoongi says, immediately. ‘Tell Jeon if he can refrain from dragging you into any more scandals, I’ll hold off.’
‘Yoon---’
‘Gotta go, Areum’s here,’ he says, hanging up.
He slides his phone into his pocket and stands to greet Areum. She’s the daughter of a friend of his parents’, a socialite and a fashion darling. Much like his sister, including that she has a depth to her that makes her more interesting. She’s great in bed, and she makes him laugh.
Yoongi could really see this going somewhere if it weren’t for Areum’s tendency to not listen to anything he says. It would be one thing if she heard him and chose to do her own thing, similar to his twin, but it’s another to completely not hear him at all. He doesn’t think Areum’s learned anything new about him since he asked her out.
Areum tilts her face up to his. ‘Yoongi,’ she says, voice practically a purr.
‘Hi Areum, you look beautiful,’ he says, because she’s expecting it, and it’s true.
Yoongi spends the date on autopilot, admiring Areum’s beautiful shoulders and waiting for her to ask him a question about himself.
She doesn’t.
***
Dasom, Yoongi’s assistant, looks up, uninterested, as Yoongi walks into the office.
‘Lee Y/N’s in your office. She says she wants to speak to you.’
Yoongi nods. ‘Thank you Dasom.’
As always, he wonders idly about Dasom’s personal life, whether she’s as emotionless as she comes across. She’s an excellent assistant, he pays her more than his VPs, and she’s never let him down yet. She’s frighteningly efficient.
He enters his office to see you standing before his floor to ceiling windows, looking out at the city.
‘Hi, Y/N,’ he says. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?’
You turn to him. ‘Hi, Yoongi. My mom’s cooking dinner for me and my brother tonight – she asked if there’s anything in particular you like to eat.’
Yoongi hates any sort of fuss being made over him. His yearly birthday party with his sister is his idea of torture, and ever since she realised that she’s made an effort to go more extravagant each time.
God, one of these days he’s going to murder his sister. He’s got to get past Park Jimin first though, he’s surprisingly protective.
‘I’m not picky,’ he says. ‘And I don’t need any special treatment. I’m enjoying helping your brother with his business, Leehom’s said we’ll be remunerated appropriately.’
You look at him, and he gets the sense you’re hurt by his bluntness.
Your mouth opens again, and to shut you up, Yoongi says, abruptly, ‘I like chicken.’
You clasp your hands together, and nod. ‘I’ll let my mother know.’
Yoongi watches you walk to his door.
‘Oh yeah,’ you say, just as a throwaway before you leave, ‘the risk calculation for the new office is too conservative. You stand to make more than the estimates. I’d go ahead with it.’
Yoongi says, ‘Wait. How the hell do you know that?’
‘My older sister works in the planning office,’ you say. ‘There’s been a lot of interest in the location. If you get in now you’ll be ahead of the game.’
You smile. ‘See you tonight, Yoongi.’
***
Yoongi knocks on the door of your apartment, to be greeted by you and your brother.
The delicious smells of food make him realise how hungry he is.
‘Let’s eat,’ you say.
Yoongi can’t remember the last time he ate dinner outside of a formal dining room or a restaurant. It was probably whilst he was at university with Seokjin.
You put more chicken on his plate, and he nods his thanks. ‘Your mom’s an amazing cook,’ he says.
‘Yeah, she owns a restaurant. We can go sometime if you want,’ you say.
‘I’d like that,’ Yoongi says, and he realises he means it.
After dinner, he works with Minjun, discussing his focus on developing edge nodes for voice recognition, lowering latency and transmission costs. Tech’s never been Yoongi’s strong point but he’s good at recognising business opportunities when he sees them.
‘You should go public,’ he tells Minjun. ‘You’re going to need more investment if you plan to make as much as you can out of this.’
Minjun blinks at him.
‘Speak to your sister, and then to Leehom,’ Yoongi advises. ‘Going public’s the best thing for you at this point.’
You knock at the door and come in with another beer for Yoongi.
As you chat to Minjun, your hand comes up to absently massage Yoongi’s shoulder.
Yoongi has no idea what you’re doing, but he’s sure as hell not going to complain.
He relaxes into your touch as he drinks his beer.
Eventually, you pat him on the shoulder.
Yoongi looks up at you, half asleep.
You smile down at him.
‘You looked tired,’ you say.
Yoongi nods. ‘I am.’
‘You should take more breaks, boss. When’s the last time you had a holiday?’
Yoongi hasn’t been on holiday since before his twin walked out on her inheritance.
‘I’m going to a charity ball this weekend. I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me?’ he asks.
You look surprised at his invitation.
‘How fancy is it?’ you ask.
‘Pretty fancy,’ Yoongi replies.
You look at him for a moment. ‘Sure, I’d like that,’ you say.
‘I’ll pick you up Friday night at 8,’ Yoongi says.
***
Yoongi isn’t sure what to expect when he pulls up outside your apartment. To his surprise, you’re already waiting outside, your grey cashmere coat belted and collar up to protect you from the cold.
‘You didn’t have to wait downstairs, I would have come up,’ Yoongi says, getting out the car to open the door for you.
He sees you taking in the plush interiors.
You swallow audibly. ‘Is this do going to be too fancy for me, Yoongi?’
Yoongi laughs before he realises you’re serious.
‘Come on, where’s the woman who paraded in front of my board wearing red lingerie?’ he says, gently teasing.
‘She’s not here tonight,’ you say.
Yoongi hits his turn signal. ‘My sister used to get a lot of pointless gossip said about her,’ he tells you, wanting to put you at ease. ‘We have this saying – who the fuck cares what people say? We’re Mins.’
‘Besides,’ Yoongi continues, ‘half the people there are going to be too drunk to care, and the other half will just be looking for someone to spend the night with. You’ve got me, so you don’t have to worry about being hit on, and I’m also the designated driver, so feel free to have a drink if it helps.’
You relax visibly at his words, and the warmth in his voice.
‘Why did you ask me to accompany you?’ you ask.
‘You’re nice,’ Yoongi says, truthfully.
He can’t help but laugh at the expression on your face.
‘You do have a dress on under that coat this time, don’t you?’ he asks.
You blush, and Yoongi admires how pretty you look.
He hands his keys to the valet and offers you his arm.
He stands behind you to help you with your coat. As you turn to face him in the golden light of the ballroom, Yoongi realises two things.
Firstly, you look just as beautiful in white as you do in red.
Secondly, your tits are just as stunning as he remembers them.
You’re looking up at him expectantly, and the last thing Yoongi wants is to disappoint you.
‘You’re very beautiful,’ Yoongi tells you.
Your smile lights up your face. ‘Thank you. You look pretty handsome yourself.’
Yoongi offers you his arm, and there’s the tiniest flutter in his chest as you curl your fingers around it.
Yoongi spots his twin and Jimin and immediately makes a beeline for them. He knows they’ll look after you if he gets caught up.
His irrepressible twin beams at him. ‘Hello, brother dear,’ she says, cheerfully. ‘Remember what you promised about Jungkook.’
Yoongi smiles. ‘I didn’t promise a damn thing,’ he says, pleasantly. ‘This is Lee Y/N. She works for the company.’
‘Lovely to meet you,’ says his sister. ‘I’m the better Min twin. Would you like to meet my friend Jungkook?’
She beams at Yoongi as she leads Y/N away.
‘She is the better Min twin,’ Jimin agrees, gazing fondly at her as she walks away.
Yoongi doesn’t say anything because honestly, he agrees.
***
Yoongi’s looking around for his sister and you after the charity auction when he spots both of you standing in front of Jeon Jungkook.
Yoongi likes Jungkook, he’s a handsome bastard and cleverer than he likes to make out. He likes the way he’s always managed to entice Jungkook’s dates away from him at these society events. He liked the way Jungkook stuck up for his twin when Jimin was being unreasonable a year or so ago, culminating in a tabloid frenzy.
Perhaps he shouldn’t blame the tabloid frenzy solely on Jungkook and Jimin. After all, Yoongi was the one who’d snapped the picture and leaked it to a journalist friend.
The point is, he’s always liked Jungkook. Which is why he’s taken aback by the sudden rush of irritation he feels when he sees the way you’re looking up at him.
He’s on his way towards you when Jimin falls into step beside him.
‘I’m going to blackball his latest gaming venture,’ Jimin says, eyes narrowing.
‘I wouldn’t bother,’ Yoongi says. ‘The kid’s got a nose for a profit like a bloodhound.’
He steps in next to you and offers his arm. ‘They’re about to serve dessert,’ he says smoothly, nodding to Jungkook. ‘Jeon.’
Jungkook, always irrepressible, flashes him a smile so brilliant Yoongi would swear he can hear a collective sigh from the room.
‘Lovely to meet you, Y/N,’ he calls, as Yoongi leads you away.
He leans in to kiss Yoongi’s twin on the cheek. ‘Always a pleasure, Minnie.’
Jimin stares at Jungkook with barely repressed fury. 'What did you call her?'
‘Sorry,’ says Jungkook, but the tone of his voice is anything but.
***
Yoongi’s driving you home. You’d eaten your dessert and most of his, but he doesn’t mind.
‘Did you enjoy yourself?’ he asks.
You lean your head against the headrest of your seat. ‘I did, thank you. I wasn’t expecting it to be so much fun.’
‘I’m glad you had a good time,’ Yoongi says.
You’re looking out the window, at the buildings flashing past as Yoongi drives.
‘I’m so grateful for everything you’re doing for my brother,’ you say, quietly. ‘He’s had some bad experiences.’
‘I’m enjoying helping him,’ Yoongi says, honestly. ‘I think some of my father’s colleagues see me as a young upstart still, but when I speak to your brother it reminds me I’m not as green as I was when I started.’
‘Green?’ you ask, smile blooming on your face. ‘I can’t imagine you being green. Not you. You’re ruthless, sharp. It’s like you were born for this.’
Your smile is making Yoongi feel warm, as is the finger you’re now tracing along the line of his arm that’s holding the gear stick.
Yoongi’s voice is deeper when he says, ‘How’s the process of becoming a public company coming along?’
Your hand is now tugging at the short hairs at the base of Yoongi’s neck, and he’s fighting the urge not to shiver at your touch.
Your voice, when you speak, sounds remarkably unaffected, despite the fact you’ve given Yoongi a semi hard-on just by touching his neck.
‘It’s going well. Are you coming to see Minjun on Wednesday?’ you ask.
‘Yeah,’ Yoongi says.
‘Great. My mom wants to have you over at our restaurant. Unless you have plans.’
‘No plans,’ Yoongi says, backing into a parking space in front of your building.
‘Great,’ you say, cheerfully.
You lean forward, hand landing on his thigh. ‘Don’t get out. I’ll be fine,’ you say.
Yoongi’s trying to be respectful and not look down at the lush mounds of your tits above the low square neck of your white dress.
You’re still looking at him, so Yoongi leans forward to kiss you goodnight.
It’s a chaste kiss, a soft brush of his lips on yours. You smell so good. When he pulls away, he notes with satisfaction that now you’re the one flustered, eyes wide, breathing a little faster than you were.
‘I’ll see you Wednesday,’ Yoongi says.
He watches you walk up to your apartment building and get inside before he drives away.
***
Yoongi’s on the driving range and trying to ignore the fact that his twin is swinging her club like a literal Neanderthal.
‘I’m sure we both took golf lessons for the same amount of time,’ he says, trying not to wince at a particularly clumsy putt.
‘You try and focus on your swing when Pablo’s got his arms around you,’ she mutters.
She gives up and lets her club fall to the ground with an admirable carelessness.
‘Why did you want to meet here, anyway?’ she asks, hands on hips.
‘I didn’t ask you to meet me here,’ Yoongi points out, exasperated. ‘You invited yourself along.’
‘We haven’t had twin time lately,’ she says. She sips her water as though she needs to rehydrate, although she’s barely done enough to work up a sweat.
Yoongi scoffs. ‘Twin time’s not a thing.’
‘I’m pregnant,’ she says.
Yoongi misses the golf ball completely. ‘Is it Jungkook’s?’ he asks.
‘We won’t know until the paternity test comes back,’ she replies, rolling her eyes, not missing a beat.
There’s a downturn to her mouth that makes Yoongi soften his tone. ‘Does Jimin know?’
‘I told him.’
‘And?’ Yoongi prompts. If Jimin’s being a dick, so help him, Yoongi’s going to make his life a living hell.
‘I don’t know, he hasn’t texted back yet,’ she says.
‘You texted him that he’s going to be a father?’ Yoongi asks, in disbelief.
‘Shit,’ she says. ‘Ah shit. I just texted him ‘see you later, Daddy.’’ Realisation dawns in her eyes. ‘Shit. Not that kind of Daddy.’
Yoongi groans because this conversation is making him want to wash his ears out with bleach.
‘God damn it, please call your husband like a full-grown adult,’ he says.
She’s turning to leave, eyes bright.
Yoongi pulls her into a hug on her way out. ‘Congratulations,’ he says. ‘You’ll be a great mom.’
She smiles up at him for a second before she pulls away, brushing her arms off like she’s worried she’s got cooties from him.
‘I hope it’s twins.’
‘Why? So you can terrorise them like you’ve terrorised me my whole life?’ Yoongi calls out at her retreating back.
She doesn’t even bother to reply.
***
Leehom walks into Yoongi’s office.
‘I wanted to speak to you about the Lee company,’ he says, without preamble.
‘I’m listening,’ Yoongi replies, setting his pen down.
‘Their voice recognition tech is a game changer,’ Leehom says. ‘It feeds into the edge computing market.’ He pauses, and looks at Yoongi meaningfully. ‘It would put us ahead of our competitors.’
Yoongi knows this isn’t to be taken lightly. ‘What are you suggesting?’ he asks.
Leehom chooses his words carefully. ‘If I were advising you, I’d suggest acquiring them. They’re doing well on the open market, and it’s only a matter of time before they catch someone else’s attention. Other acquirers might not have the same personal interests as you do.’
‘I’m the one who suggested they go public,’ Yoongi says. ‘They’ll assume I set them up for this.’
Leehom sighs. ‘They needed to go public. It was what anyone would have advised. If they don’t want to be acquired, then we’re going to need to put measures in place. In my opinion, it’s only a matter of time.’
Leehom’s been in the business so many years Yoongi doesn’t even bother questioning his insight. He’s seen Leehom back his father up multiple times, the man’s practically got second sight when it comes to business.
‘I’ll speak to them,’ Yoongi says.
‘Sooner rather than later,’ Leehom says. ‘I’ll keep my ear to the ground.’
***
Yoongi’s thinking about Leehom’s words as he parks up outside the Lee family restaurant.
You and Minjun are waiting outside.
‘You look great,’ you say, stepping forward to embrace him in greeting.
Yoongi looks down at his clothes as though he can’t remember what he’s wearing. He’s got a buttery soft leather jacket on over a long-sleeved tee and jeans. He’s put in the silver hoop earrings that were a gift from his sister, one of the few gifts she’s given him that weren’t accompanied by a sarcastic smile.
‘Sexy,’ you clarify, and Yoongi laughs, surprised.
‘Come on. Mom’s dying to meet you.’
As soon as Yoongi steps into the restaurant, he’s greeted by a petite woman who looks just like you. She grabs his arm and ushers him in.
‘You’re too thin,’ she says, clucking disapprovingly. ‘Y/N says you like chicken.’
Yoongi doesn’t even have time to reply before she’s rushing away.
‘I hope you’re hungry,’ you say.
Seven courses later Yoongi’s definitely not hungry anymore. He assures Mrs Lee that he loves her food, accepts the packed food she gives him because she’s clearly not going to budge unless he does and lets you walk him out to his car.
You’re watching him carefully store his food, smiling a little.
‘I’m sorry, she likes you a lot,’ you say, apologetically.
Yoongi smiles. ‘She’s an amazing chef.’
He looks at the way you’re standing close to him, face tilted up to his, and he asks, ‘Can I take you for a drive?’
You grin. ‘I’d love that.’
Yoongi drives you to one of his favourite places in the heart of the city, a square set back from a busy shopping district.
‘I used to come here a lot,’ he tells you.
You look around you, clearly trying to work out why he loves it.
‘When I was on visits home from university, my friend Seokjin and I would often drive around the city at night. There’s a 24-hour bagel bar about a hundred yards that way. We’d get blazed, then eat, and chat shit for hours.’
Yoongi smiles fondly at the memory.
‘It was nice to get away from being Min Yoongi, heir to Min Holdings.’
You’re looking at him, and you’re smiling too. ‘Where’s Seokjin now?’
‘He’s working in Europe. I don’t see him as often as I used to,’ Yoongi tells you.
Your hand’s on his arm, and he can’t work out how long it’s been there, it feels so natural.
Yoongi places his hand over yours and leans over to kiss you. You taste as sweet as he’s imagined you would.
‘Want to come to mine?’ he asks.
You’re smiling encouragingly at him. ‘I’d love to.’
***
Yoongi’s always appreciated the interior design of his apartment, it’s deceptively simple, aesthetically pleasing and above all, comfortable.
His feet sink into the plush carpet of his bedroom, where you’re waiting, sitting on the edge of his bed.
You’re looking at him in that way you do, and Yoongi wonders if you’ve been wanting him to kiss you all this time.
Your lips are soft, parting for him with the slightest flick of his tongue. He licks into your mouth, savouring the taste of you. You let out a soft whimper as his hand slides around the nape of your neck.
He kisses you until you’re both breathless and your hands are fisting the material of his soft t-shirt.
‘You want this off?’ Yoongi asks. His voice has dropped an octave, and he doesn’t miss the way you shiver at the sound of it.
‘You’ve seen my tits,’ you say, smiling at him, impertinent. ‘Can I see yours?’
Yoongi, obligingly, pulls his shirt off, and is rewarded by your hand sliding along his chest. He likes the way you touch him, whether it’s a flirty hand on his arm or shoulder massage.
You’re lifting your top off your head, and the view could make Yoongi cry. He looks to you for permission before he dips his head to lick a stripe between your tits.
‘Beautiful,’ Yoongi remembers to tell you as he kisses a nipple, already taut for him. The mewl you let out as he sucks at your nipple makes him almost fully erect.
You’re saying his name breathlessly, and Yoongi loves the sound of it. He plays with your other nipple, enjoying the way you’re arching back, holding him to you.
His hand stops along the curve of your waist.
‘More?’ he asks.
The look in your eyes almost makes him laugh. ‘If you stop now, Yoongi, so help me---’
Yoongi gives you what you’re asking for. You help him pull your jeans down, and he only has a split second to enjoy your pink lacy panties before you’re tugging them off.
Then he’s face to face with your beautiful cunt, glistening with arousal.
Yoongi loves giving head. He tongues along your slit, and your fingers immediately come up to tangle in his hair. ‘Fuck, Yoongi!’
Yoongi hums into your pussy, spreading you apart so he can kiss you deeper, letting his tongue go as deep as he can so he can taste all of you. He presses his thumb against your rim, and you cry out so loudly Yoongi’s grateful he owns the whole floor.
You cry out, ‘I’m cumming, oh, oh---’, but Yoongi already knows you are, can feel you pulsing against his lips, his tongue. He keeps going until your grip on his hair loosens, and your thighs fall open.
You’re already sitting up, pulling him to you. ‘Get up here,’ you say, voice husky from how loudly you were crying his name.
‘Yeah?’ Yoongi asks.
‘Yeah,’ you say. You’re smiling up at him, flushed and breathless, and Yoongi doesn’t think he’s seen anything more beautiful.
‘I hope you didn’t think we were done,’ you say, hand working the button of his jeans, slipping under them to curl around his cock.
‘We can do whatever you want,’ Yoongi says. He’s being honest, he’s always been one for the long game.
‘I want you to fuck me stupid,’ you tell him. ‘Can you do that, Yoongi?’
Yoongi smiles then, confident. ‘Yeah.’
***
Yoongi wakes up in stages, to the delicious feel of wet warmth on his cock. He’s hard, has been for a while by the feel of it, but the rest of him feels relaxed, comfortable.
‘Ah,’ you say, smiling up at him, lips glistening. ‘You’re awake.’
Yoongi can’t help but smile back at the sight of you.
‘Been busy?’ he asks.
‘Fuck you sound sexy,’ you say.
Yoongi lifts the covers off so he can see more of your glorious body.
Your breasts are just as pretty as they were last night, and he’s pretty damn sure he’ll never get sick of the sight of your glistening pussy.
You’re sucking his cock in earnest now, taking him all in, and Yoongi holds your hair back so he can see you properly.
‘Feels so good,’ he tells you. You flick your eyes up at him.
‘You taste so good,’ you say, lips smacking as you lift off his cock briefly.
Then you’re lifting your tits up, pushing them together and encouraging him to spit in between them.
‘Helps with the slide,’ you say, and Yoongi’s transfixed by your mischievous smile. He doesn’t think you realise quite how sexy you are.
Then you’re slipping his cock between your tits, kissing his head sloppily, and Yoongi stops thinking at all.
***
Yoongi’s never been one to cave under pressure. On top of that, he’s learned over the years to mask his emotions, to present a cool exterior no matter what’s thrown his way.
Today though, he’s stretched. His twin has just called him, holding back tears, saying she’s at the hospital bleeding. Jimin’s there with her but Yoongi’s frazzled. He can’t remember the last time he heard her cry. He’s making his way out of the office to the hospital when Leehom stops him at the door.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t want to add to your plate, but the Kang corporation have been steadily buying stock in the Lee company. They’re preparing for a takeover bid.’
Leehom walks with Yoongi to the car park. ‘I’d just like to make sure you ---’
‘Contact the shareholders directly, give them a better offer,’ Yoongi says. ‘Let Minjun know.’
‘He was very clear he wanted to maintain control,’ Leehom says.
‘And we’ll give him that. He has no reason not to trust us, especially if it’s between us and Kang Ji-Hwan,’ Yoongi says.
He stops outside his car. ‘We’ll do it without their approval if we have to,’ he says. ‘We can pick up the pieces after.’
Leehom nods. ‘I’ll get it done.’
Yoongi breaks every speed limit on the way to the hospital, but the relief on his twin’s face as he enters her room is worth it.
***
Yoongi’s spent an exhausting day at the hospital with his twin, who’s being kept in overnight for observation. He hasn’t eaten since the coffee he had for breakfast, and it’s nearly 10pm by the time he leaves. Jimin had been beside himself, and Yoongi had had to calm him down before he could leave.
Yoongi’s ignored all his texts, phone calls and emails apart from one from Leehom which simply read, ‘Done.’
He crawls into bed, and is thinking about calling you to check you’re ok when he falls asleep.
***
You walk into Yoongi’s office.
‘I’d like an explanation, Yoongi,’ you say. Your posture is defensive, you stop a few feet from him as if you can’t bring yourself to go any closer.
It’s a stark contrast from the woman who kissed him goodbye as she left a few days ago.
‘I’ve taken over your brother’s company,’ Yoongi says, though it seems you already know.
‘Why didn’t you talk to us about it?’ you ask.
‘Leehom -‘
You don’t let him finish.
‘You could have called me,’ you say.
Yoongi wants to tell you about his twin being in the hospital but he’s worried as fuck and he’s tired and he’s not up for an argument right now.
‘I’m sorry,’ he offers.
‘Fuck. Is that all you have to say?’ you scoff. You seem to be waiting for him, eyes pleading with him to show you that he’s not the asshole some people think he is.
Yoongi’s so tired of proving himself. He’d thought that by now, you’d know enough about him to know he’s not the kind of guy whose attention can only be gained by parading around in lingerie. That he’s got more integrity than to try to pull some shady business manoeuvre.
His gaze flickers over the inscription on his pen.
His mouth opens and instead of the ‘can we talk later’ he’d been meaning to say, what comes out is another tired ‘i’m sorry.’
You look like you’re about to say something else, but then you change your mind. You turn and walk out of his office.
***
Yoongi’s getting dressed when his twin sister walks into his room unceremoniously.
‘Are you meant to be walking around?’ Yoongi asks, mildly concerned.
‘The docs gave me the all-clear. Sorry about the scare,’ she says. ‘I promise I won’t call you like that again unless I’m dying.’
‘Oh, it’s ok,’ Yoongi says. ‘I’ve told Dasom to hold all my calls from you unless it’s the funeral home.’
They exchange a smile in the mirror.
‘So I was chatting to Leehom at dinner last night,’ she says. ‘My brother the white knight.’
Yoongi scoffs. ‘Now you pretend to know about business.’
She scoffs right back. ‘If Lee Y/N doesn’t appreciate what you did she doesn’t deserve you.’
Yoongi sighs. ‘When do we stop having to prove ourselves?’
She lays her hand on his shoulder.
‘We’re Mins,’ she reminds him gently. ‘Fuck them all.’
Yoongi turns to her. ‘She’s kind, and warm, and her family are so nice.’
‘Then she’ll come around,’ his twin says. ‘You’re Min motherfucking Yoongi, after all.’
She tugs his perfectly tied tie so it’s askew and hurries out before he can tell her off.
***
Yoongi walks into the meeting room with Leehom by his side. He’s meeting with the board for the Lee company, including Lee Minjun and you.
His eye is drawn to you as soon as he enters the room, and the look you give him is completely neutral. He’ll take it.
Leehom starts with some formalities, and once that’s done, it’s Yoongi’s time to speak.
He gets up.
‘Min Holdings acquired this company because we believe in your product, but more importantly, we believe in your people. Having worked closely with Lee Minjun and Lee Y/N over the last few months, I felt I was in a better position to safeguard your interests than the Kang corporation. I hope to continue to do so for a long time to come.’
Minjun’s speaking now, thanking him, but he barely hears him because all he can see is you.
You’re staring straight at him, and it almost looks like you’re smiling.
For the first time in days, Yoongi feels the tightness in his chest ease.
After the meeting, you’re up on your feet, heading towards him.
Yoongi lets you walk all the way up to him.
He’s not expecting the first words to come out of your mouth.
‘Your sister called me.’
Yoongi freezes.
‘If this business thing ever falls through and you need a reference, you should definitely ask her.’
‘I don’t normally need help from my twin in my romantic life,’ Yoongi says.
‘That’s right,’ you agree. ‘You’re a hell of a guy.’
You’re both quiet, looking out the window in the conference room.
‘So can I take you out sometime?’ you ask, finally.
Yoongi pretends to be thinking about it. ‘So I have a question about the red lingerie,’ he says.
You smile at him, and it makes him feel warm inside.
‘Yeah, Min Yoongi. I wore it because I wanted to get the attention of the sexiest man I’ve ever met.’
You’re tracing your finger along his arm again.
‘I mean, if I wanted business advice for my brother, I would have just asked you.’
Yoongi nods. He’s giving up the fight, throwing in the towel, letting the smile that’s been threatening to come out since he saw you finally show on his face.
‘So, dinner?’ you ask.
‘Yeah,’ Yoongi says. ‘Yeah.’
©hamsterclaw 2022
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Are all of these gonna be character specialized? Maybe, not sure myself.
Welcome to Episode 6 of (Tottemo) Waku Puyo Extras. (Feat. A lot of Kikimora.)
(Yeah, this time it's not from the Waku Puyo Manga, but from the Totally Puyo Puyo Manga. Or the Tottemo Puyo Puyo Manga, either name works. I swear the Waku in the title is losing more relevance as time goes on.)
Hello, one and all, it's that guy who translates a niche video game here again, and welcome to Part 6 of (Waku) Puyo Extras, the filler section where I ramble about something Puyo related and give some old evidence to back it up. I know I'm a little late, but hey, that's high school for ya.
If you've been keeping up with this filler show of mine, you know that I typically post about a character, have a small video to translate, and...idk something wacky. And today, you'd be a little mistaken. Unfortunately, due to time restraints, I wasn't able to really...do a short video. My apologies. I did say that my schedule would be really messed up due to school, and now I'm finally feeling the effects.
To make up for it, this'll what we cover today:
Some stuff about Kikimora because why not, she's been in so many videos and episodes that she deserves it. I'll speak about things like her origin, Waku Puyo Dungeon: The Video Game, and the Waku Puyo Manga.
Talking about a Disc System Game. At least the one that has Kikimora.
Talk a bit about the Tottemo Puyo Puyo Manga. The thing itself mostly shows odd Puyo SUN characters, so people like Lagnus are there.
From now on, expect a lot more inconsistent posting. Obviously I'll post still, just...not as often. Hope you understand.
With those precautions and tales told, hope you enjoy.
-----
Ah, Kikimora Lore.
You don't exactly expect a lot from this character, and frankly, I don't blame you, but I'm here today to speak about our (probably not) favorite maid in Puyo, Kikimora. If you've seen my posts, you noticed that she appears quite often in translations and random stuff in general, even though she's usually a minor NPC. Won't be covering every game she's in, but I'll mention a couple.
So, what're her origins?
Well, it's not SUN, actually. Surprisingly, it's Madou Monogatari: Michikusa Ibun, released in 1994. Here...she's just kinda an enemy. Nothing more, nothing less. Quite a simple introduction.
Now, we reach the introduction that most people know her for, Puyo Puyo SUN, which was released in 1996. Here, you meet her in Arle's storyline, where she's just cleaning, as per usual. Why outside is anyone's guess, but after seeing Arle walk along the sidewalk, she legitimately sweeps her off the ground, and then runs around with her, who's in shock. I mean, I'd be shocked too.
So, 2 introductions in and she's put...nothing special in these, to be frank. Maybe she really isn't that gre-
Holy shit I'm actually speaking about Waku Waku Puyo Puyo Dungeon again.
As the local Waku Puyo guy, fortunately and also unfortunately, there's...actually a good bit to speak about with her, which is fairly surprising.
First, she's in every single route, and you don't exactly fight her. She's an usher who helps guide people around the area and tell them what to do and where to go. Here... she actually does have a good amount of character compared to back then.
(Image of her and the entire map of the game, featured in the games manual.)
Here, she partially retains her cleanliness personality, but she's now awfully kind about it, I'd assume it'd be for professional purposes but still, power to her. She isn't as...angry, as her past self, (I'd count Puyo-N because she did get really upset that Arle called her old.) and even in the Waku Puyo Manga, she's still very much kind to Rulue when she runs into her, merely giving directions of where she saw Satan.
And back to the game itself, she's a little more than just happy and angry, she thankfully unlocked more of the personality skill tree and got the ability to be sad as well. Throughout Schezo's storyline, there's moments in times he calls Kiki useless for not being able to help her, and as anyone would, gets really sad about hearing that, and in some situations, starts to cry, causing Schezo to apologize. It's fairly interesting how they basically gave a character with little screentime back then not only the screentime she got, but to expand on it to feel multilayered as well? Nothing short of impressive.
The final game I wish to cover is a bit of a niche one; Kikimora's Clean-Up.
Usually with Disc System games, there's a good bit to talk about, but unfortunately, this ain't one of the games. The game stars Kikimora, and your goal is to...clean the floors. Simple enough, while having a Pac-Man like feel to it.
There's several floors and the goal is to get all the green, icky stuff out while avoiding enemies. You can launch your broom at them, taking them out, but you won't be able to clean until you get the broom again. Getting hit makes you lose 30 seconds, lose all your time, you lose a life, and if no lives, game over. It's actually more difficult than it seems.
Finally, after a lot of floors and possibly dying, you finally face the final boss of this game: Black Kikimora, who makes the floor dirty.
After beating her, congrats, you've beaten the one game Kikimora is the protagonist in. Give yourself a pat on the back and maybe some lunch.
Unfortunately this game doesn't have much in terms of lore, but it's an enjoyable game nevertheless. Here's a link of some gameplay.
youtube
Now how about the Tottemo Puyo Puyo Manga? What is it?
I'm glad you asked. To compensate for being unable to publish a video for y'all, I decided to speak a little bit about this goofy manga. So what's it about?
Unlike the world of Waku Puyo, this doesn't have a full storyline but rather sporadic storylines that have absolutely nothing to do with each other. They're purely on the comedic side. As well, the designs that were chosen, along with the artstyle itself, are based on Puyo SUN, what with how the characters' designs are drawn most notably Arle, Schezo, and Lagnus.
Since the storylines don't connect and are all separate, characters can pop in and out like nothing ever happened, or just...randomly waltz up like Lagnus himself did. (Which I cannot show because 10 image limit.)
Here, featured is Kikimora getting an injury from making a mistake, and Arle heals her before telling to take a break for half the day, SHOCKING Kiki. She starts saying how some areas aren't clean, and Arle volunteers to help, which makes Kiki beyond happy, and leads to us getting Arle in a maid suit trying her best to clean.
Unfortunately, due to that said 10 image limit, I cannot post a lot at once. (Wish it was like 15 instead,) but honestly, I'd recommend it. While you might not understand what's properly going on, (Believe me, I'm there to a point.) the visuals themselves kinda make up for it, and hey, if you do translate them, there's a 90% chance there's an incredibly silly and funny story to go along with it, like Schezo somehow making an amusement park. (My favorite Foreshadowing; The ones in gag mangas.) I'll post a link of some of the books here.
Hopefully this'll suffice. Again, my apologies for not really posting a video, I'll have one done sooner or later (aka about 2 weeks.)
Here's the final 2 images I've been saving up.
(Minor context: Kikimora kinda lured Arle into a job before surprising her with a party.)
With this, that'll be all this time.
See you next time.
#Youtube#arle puyo puyo#japanese translation#madou monogatari#waku waku puyo puyo dungeon#puyo puyo#sega#sega saturn#arle nadja#schezo puyo puyo#rulue puyo puyo#puyo#kikimora puyo puyo#puyoposting#informative#Disc system#puyo puyo sun
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what do you think about kaiba as a host (like japanese host club thing)
Under read more because my thoughts embarrass me.
Imma be honest: I’ve never thought about it so this is just me making shit up on the fly from vibes only.
This would require an AU. You'd have to put him in either a desperate enough situation or offer him good enough benefits and no better options. He’d probably stay there until he can move on to anything else, although he’d stay longer if he found something (maybe someone) to obsess over.
Being realistic, I don't think he'd be a popular host, but the customers he'd get would be pretty loyal and spend more than enough that he wouldn't have to worry about performance that much. In that kind of business, attractiveness is a start (and it’s up to you how well you think he ranks in that regard) but most people wouldn’t be all that interested in him after learning that he’s not at all friendly, or funny, or flirty. He'd still have enough customers willing to throw money at their niche taste.
He’d probably be advertised as some kind of cool and composed type that you can have a fairly intelligent conversation with, away from the noise. He’s not that simple in reality, but the customers don’t have to see the messier parts of him. Those are only to be seen by the other hosts, and only if it can't be helped. The guy probably would ask to have his alcohol watered down a little to minimize the risk of losing his mask in it.
Now, he’s always had an aura of disdain around him. I think he’d play into that for his character. Popular with people who like their men hard to get, I guess? I just really don’t see him being the kind of host that goes hard on suggestive comments, compliments, or even pays a lot of attention to his customers. You will get polite conversation, intellectual topics, nerdy shit, some food for thought, and someone to refill your glass while you vent and cry. He might call you out on your bs as well, if he thinks he can get away with it. But he’s still a host, and he will play that game when you least expect it.
Let’s try a potential scenario. Imagine you're a customer for the following bit. CW for manipulation tactics:
You’ve been complaining about your personal life for a while, and you can’t tell if he’s listening. This has been happening somewhat frequently now. When you ask him, your face betrays a hint of annoyance. He blames it on his drink, and you don't try all that much to act like you believe him. He orders your favourite. His treat, he says, and the gestures soothes you a little. After you've calmed down enough, he starts bombarding you with questions. Now he’s looking at you like you're the most radiant thing in the venue. After you ease into your story again, he lightly adjusts your clothes around your neck, tugging on them playfully almost, and the look he gives you is vaguely promising. He tells you that if you can stay on your best behaviour for five minutes, he promises to sing a duet with you.
He’s set up a timer, and teased you about it—he made a whole deal about it, but you don’t actually know whether he intends to keep his promise. Sometimes he does, sometimes he smirks and calls you gullible. This time, as you suspected, he doesn’t sing with you, but he compliments you once you’re done. He said he stayed seated because wanted to listen, because he wanted to look at you. Can you be really that upset at that?
But you could swear he didn’t play these many games when he was new here. Soon enough, he becomes absent once again, but you've had so much to drink, you barely notice.
---
Basically, I feel like he’s the kind of host that has you work for his attention. The scraps he throws at you are to keep you invested and for damage control when he gets it wrong. Also, he’ll give you his phone number if you spend enough, but don’t expect him to actually answer.
So yeah. Not that many clients, but very invested ones because he conditions them.
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can i ask for all of the 10?
alrighty *cracks knuckles* imma try my best
warning: lots of rambling under the cut
Merlin Interrupted
ok so i explained this wip in another ask but the short version is my OC, Nessa, has entered the playing field (Camelot/Albion) and shakes up the show's plot so much that now we got an early magic reveal, more intel on Morgana's descent, and a new antagonist
Things Dr. Geyer Notices
as i'm sure you've noted, i've been sort of venting about this fic bc i was originally intending (i swear, truly) for this fic to be a cute one-shot where over the span of season 4-6, David Geyer (Liam's stepdad) would begin to pick up on the crazy supernatural shit going on. HOW-EVER, i am 3 chapters deep (6.5k words) and only halfway through with this story.
*sighs* i am enjoying the fic tho. am i taking creative liberties by inventing my own love story/dynamic with David and Jenna? absolutely! and you would too for the sake of giving Liam the best parents ever. tbh i have more of the 2nd half of this fic imagined than the 1st half (which was why i assumed it would be shorter lol who'da thought?). very excited for when i get to the Wild Hunt 😈
The Heirloom
ok, uh, this one is my niche little Lockwood & Co x Teen Wolf (sort of but not really) x OC wip.
essentially, Lockwood & Co, a ghost hunting agency run by teens (and teens only. it makes sense in universe i promise) are hired by Nick Bennet (an OC i have for #9 and as you'll notice, i tend to recycle him and another OC for other wips) to find the source of his father-in-law's ghost so that the house/flat that belonged to his late wife.
it takes place some time in book 3 of Lockwood & Co because I wanted Holly included but also the drama of Lucy Carlyle's Talent issues (sixth sense thing only children and teens gain to see/hear ghosts). AND, i have Theo there who was adopted by Nick (this will make more sense after i explain #10) who shares the same Talent as Lucy (Hearing) and helps out our lovely band of ruffians.
however, as the gang continue to explore the house and its history, they find there's more that meets the eye. news articles are inconsistent about the life the late Lucy Bennet once lived and the relationship her had with her father. both Nick and Theo are partial to this necklace that once belonged to her, but they deny it having any connection to the house and its hauntings.
The Witch & the Knight
so this one is an og wip! what i've got so far is a alternate historical fantasy taking place in medieval France. premise is there's this celestial war (angels vs demons, a classic) headed by a Grim Reaper with their trusty gang that consists of a knight in shining armor and 2 witch sisters (one eager to fight the fight and the other trying to pull said eager sister away from the fight).
this wip is heavy in its themes, historical research, mythological research, worldbuilding....just, a very ambitious story.
i am using it for my final project in my english course bc it gives me the excuse to work on it, and flesh out more of my ideas and concepts. (the big one i'm currently fleshing out is the doomed romance subplot)
i have no intention of having this story be 1 novel. it's a series. i can feel it. the war itself in story will be 10 years and the slow burn both for platonic and romantic relationships is super fucking slow. i've written a couple snippets for this wip, but mostly, i'm still in the plotting and planning stage.
A Lucky Network
tis me batfam wip! it's a epistolary fic and jumps between outsider pov to simple 3rd pov and 2nd pov. it's got mystery, unreliable narrators, and all that jazz. i've got like 80% if this thing finished just the finale part is all i have left.
You have the fic's plot focus on 2 people, Nick and Lucy. Nick is our main pov guy (after Dick) who sort of is in the know about something involving Lucy, but we don't know why. Lucy is our center for all of this chaos. she's why Dick began this investigation into her actions. in the fic, she was taken in by Bruce about 3 or so years after Dick, lived through his angsty teen years, lived with baby jason, had to live with his death, and then have her own angsty arc.
there is like 1 batfam ship in the fic, so if that's not your cup of tea, totally fine! but i have lowkey forgotten to update it on ao3 consistently lol. i'll be sure to get back on that.
Basically Mob Boss Lucy
this is an og wip but taking a similar premise with #5, recycling my main 2 OCs from there (Nick & Lucy bc they're a packaged deal and married), and placing them in a Mob Boss setting. Lucy in this wip is not adopted by a kind and compassionate but is also emotionally constipated man; rather she gets taken in by some douche who saw her on the street and thought "this would get me so much charity points with the media!"
anyway, her life in this story is a lot different with #5 (for one, she's a lot colder and harsher when it comes to treating others that aren't in her inner circle and she's much more sadistic) but i love writing this wip bc i'm getting tired of redemption arcs. i wanna see a girl go batshit and fall into her corruption arc.
The Emrys Shrine
greatly inspired by this ask here
ok, listen: i know the fic i have for this says complete, but i do have a continuation in the works!!! it's in percival's pov and it's basically just him going "hmmmmm Merlin's acting pretty suspicious......"
Witch Boy
OK LISTEN: i know this one also complete when you go to Ao3, but that's just because the 3rd part is being fucking slOW, so i said "fuck it ends nice at ch2 anyway," but i do want to add more.
but yeah, to summarize: fic was inspired by a Halloween fanart i saw and i just ran with it.
A BBC Merlin Military AU Nobody Asked For
so i also already explained this one in another ask but basically it's semi-modern au with bbc merlin cast in the military. which military??? idk it's not important. what's important is that there's pining and hurt/comfort
Lucky's Timeline in Beacon Hills
this one....yeah, this is super self indulgent.
literally recycling Nick and Lucy (Lucky is their ship name bc i do do that with my OCs and there's is super cute) and throwing them into the Teen Wolf universe, and seeing how they'd fare in that world.
what i've got it like 5 different storylines i could take with this wip, but the main consensus is: Lucy adopts Theo, Nick sort of adopts the Puppy Pack bc he decided a coach was the safest job he could apply for and the school didn't ask him a lot of questions (he definitely raised his brows at that)
for this wip, Nick and Lucy originally came from my Lucky Network-verse (but like slightly to the left, meaning she wasn't adopted by Bruce in this verse, meaning i get to play with her being a tad more sadistic) and ended up in Beacon Hills bc teleportation magic run to its extreme can teleport you across dimensions!! who'da known!
but yeah, those are my 10! they are my babies, and i love them dearly. if you have anymore questions are just want to hear me ramble more, you (and anyone else interested) are free to shoot me an ask!
thank you babe for allowing me to just gush about them <3
#ask game#wip ask game#wip game#asks#my wips#my wip#my fics#long post#y'all are absolutely welcome to ask me for more details about this stuff#if given the chance i will not shut up about any of these#i restrain myself bc 1) breathing is a thing and 2) i would be even more annoying#thanks so the ask boo <3#bbc merlin#teen wolf#lockwood & co#original work
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