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matchamorphosis · 3 years

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𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐙 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐒

・゜ʚɞ ゜・ 𝑎.𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ʚɞ 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑦 ・゜ʚɞ ゜・

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || you’ve been testing ari’s patience and it’s up to him to put you straight— even if it’s going to be your first real punishment.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 || smut with plot

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 || daddy!ari levinson × little![black//woc]fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 5.7K — oof i’m sorry

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || 18+ nsfw, ddlg lifestyle and dynamics, daddy kink, extremely bratty reader, big mean daddy!ari, punishment, cursing, spankings, pussy slapping, some steamy scenes, spilt apple juice, a ruined Care Bear’s coloring page, use of nickname: muffin//muffin cake — MINORS DNI || 18+ INTERACTION ONLY —

𝐰. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 || my head was spiraling out of control and I felt bratty + missed my daddy!ari nonnie so I wrote this :): planning on making much more ddlg scenarios like these because they always seem like such a hit and i have so much fun writing them! anyways I hope you cherubs enjoy this! ♡

↬ p.s || do not repost or plagiarize my work on any other fanfic platform such as: wattpad, ao3, tumblr, etc or plagiarize my work all together. do so and i will rip your spine from your scumy asshole and shove it down your talentless throat. ♡♡♡

it all started with a simple question.

the simplest of simple questions you know the right answer to. neverminded the fact that the supreme authority in the house, Ari Levinson, would still call you a big dumb baby if you’d answer correctly.

today was not the best day for you to endure one of your aggressively bratty tantrums he says you’re to old to commit — just as well as it wasn’t the best day for you to exclaim your snappy clever remarks he insisted you’re to little to speak of and understand.

you’re either his big girl or his little girl and no in-between’s.

today ignited something in you, lit a measly match that trailed a kerosene path he didn’t dare think fast enough to put out critically. Ari was too slow to realize the build up and now he’s facing the burning fire that’s practically charring the good nature that was usually your morally-correct actions and behavior.

today you just didn’t feel like being good.

simple as that.

however no matter what you did you wouldn’t win, not on daddy’s watch.

glossy black Mary Janes kick the air in a fiery frenzy, folded arms shielding your face as you sob into the pink fluffy play rug. it’s laying underneath your arts and crafts table and of course your thrashing petite body that’s spiraling in the tantrum.

muffled curses and melodramatic wails fill the pink playroom and the cause of this brat fit was the man at the opposite end of the table. no more than a foot away from you, thick muscled arms crossed over his navy blue polo chest. tapping his foot against the floor impatiently, waiting for your tantrum to end he holds the plastic package of goldfish grahams he took from you.

it wasn’t a good decision to ease your previous brattiness with the brownie baked cookies. of course he couldn’t help but give into your sweet tooth if that meant for you to calm down. although Ari didn’t expect you to finish all the sugary goldfish in your snack bowl in the ten minutes you were out of supervision.

additionally, he didn’t see it coming at all when he left you at that to sip from your juice box and snack on the chocolate goldfish while you colored perfectly in between the bolded lines. all so he could finish some paperwork but not until finding you ten minutes after with the whole package at the account of checking in on you.

the sight of your hand in the bag greedily grabbing the graham goldfishes and shoving them into your mouth was a damn sight to see. even when he secretly hid it in the highest and secret, kept out of eyesight corner of the pantry closet— you somehow retrieved it and smuggled it back in your playroom.

the confiscated, nearly-empty package is now in his fisted grasp. Ari cannot believe the shade of anger and disappointment breaking unknown levels of his calming limits.

words cannot describe the irritation inflaming his mind, you’re suppose to be his good little girl.

his precious little starlet who behaved and acted accordingly but instead he has a brat screaming ass up and face down into the play rug. crying her bug head off because he took your spoiling sugary snack from you that he shouldn’t have given in the first place.

rolling his eyes at the scene in front of him, his blue hues lock on your baby lotion thighs that your tiny purple argyll mini skirt reveals. cotton thigh highs adorned with purple bows at the frilly cuffs that match the small silk ones braided into your hair he helped design, capture his eye.

ever since this morning your attitude has been off and not only did it confuse Ari but it confused you to at first. until you slowly grew into liking the devious part that was hidden inside you for so long that maliciously appeared when you woke up on the naughty side of the bed.

from Ari getting you out of bed, giving you your routine bath, arranging your outfit and getting your hair ready. as well as eating breakfast, you pouted and grumbled the whole time but Ari was still so soft and patient with you. it made your heart gooey but you were craving his mean side.

so after you two got ready and started your separate chores and hobbies for the day, you were slowly working your way to anticipating Ari get mean with you. just like your magic always worked wonders, he did get mean. scolded at you when you were in the middle of reading your book, raising his voice just a slight at you that you did all your chores wrong and haven’t even completed some.

it was scary just for minute that he even had a hint of anger in his voice but damn did you enjoy the wetness in your panties at the same time when he ordered you to do them fully and correctly. until finally what he believed would be the end to your brattiness, nap time arrived.

thankful for it as he started lunch, thinking that when you’d wake up he would recognize his well mannered princess but what he didn’t expect would happen afterwards as he woke you up that you were more crankier than before.

the two of you had your lunch of toasty grilled cheese, thick tomato soup and chicken salad. you were still moody and cranky when you sat down in your pastel chair with the wooden pink painted words of princess displayed on the crest rail.

of course he looked at you as if a mountain troll was stealing his princesses throne because he didn’t recognize the pout pulling at your full glossy lips. the scrunched brows making a dramatic impression that married well with your anger inflicted face that spoiled your pretty facial features.

as much as your daddy thought you looked adorable being cranky, every little thing seemed to tick you off. you had a problem with everything that could either easily be fixed or was out of your hands.

the grilled cheese wasn’t cut in the shapes that you wanted, he placed the cheesy slices in your wrong disney princess plate, you didn’t want to eat your greeny nasty salad, you wanted another cup of sprite. which you were neglected of because ari had a limit set for you from not drinking anything more than the amount your tiny hello kitty cup provided.

and most importantly you wanted to have Lulubelle, your tangerine teddy bear, to eat at the table.

of course he fixed his first two mistakes but you knew better than to argue against and ask for anything that went against the rules. instead of putting you to a corner, he set up another option.

encouraged you to eat your greens to set a good example for your stuffies. replaced the second cup of sprite you wanted with a juice box of your choice and placed Lulubelle on one of the living room couches telling you she will wait for you to finish eating and washing your hands.

but even with those resolutions there were major bumps and outbursts.

you played with your food by smacking your spoon against the soups surface which caused little splatters of red dots across the glossy cherry oak table and grumbled under your breath as you picked off the crust of the grilled sandwich.

flicking it with the swiftness of your two inch acrylics, the pieces landing in Ari’s soup or hair.

it was as if you were set on getting on his nerves because damn right you were.

rolled your eyes and silently mimicked his mouth when he ordered you to stop. deviously giggled when the funny vein on his forehead that only bulged out when he was really mad at you was potentially going to pop out.

a smirk playing your lips when the corner of your eye caught every clench of his fist when you would hit the table leg obnoxiously as you slurped your soup. misbehaved yet did what he ordered you to when you believed his attention was back on his own food.

it was a very long lunch and as much as he thought he was going to snap at you and put you in your time out chair that was rarely used because you never ever acted like this, he left you to wash up as he cleaned up after lunch.

you would normally help him with cleaning the table or giving him any dirty dishes for him to clean when he was busy at the faucet. but he allowed you to run off into the living room and play with your stuffed bear in whatever todays make belief adventure the two of you were on.

cleaning up was easy since he only had to clean the bowls, plates and utensils the two of you ate with but it wasn’t until he started to clean the table did he notice all the soup drops against the cleaning plastic as well as the chunky pieces of lettuce, tomato, and bread crusts under the table around your chair.

Ari was close to exploding, because he taught you better then to throw food and waste it but he gave himself a breath, counted to ten and made sure to make a mental note tonight. after your special cartoon marathon, he’d have a very important talk to you about food waste and how wrong it was.

so after cleaning up and warning the two of you were going to have a talk tonight, he settled you in your playroom since it was a room away from his office. Ari never felt comfortable or secure with leaving you all alone downstairs without someone watching over you.

adjusting and nestling the baby monitor on one of your teddy bears heart strap, he placed the stuffed bear near your arts and crafts table. even if you were glaring at him for doing so, you weren’t a baby. although as usual, your daddy shushed at you and placed a kiss at your temple that made you silent as you pulled out your coloring books from your big wooden weaved basket with a grumble.

Ari knew you despised the baby monitor but he made it a priority to place it near you at all times when he wasn’t near. even if the meeting was only going to be around fifteen minutes, your daddy wasn’t going to narrow down the possibilities of something going wrong.

after settling your desired snacks when you remind him that it’s snack time, Ari settled your juice box that he already pierced the straw through the tin foiled hole and your brownie goldfish in your hello kitty snack bowl halfway. checked his watch knowing he had to attend the virtual meeting in less than a few minutes.

kneeling down at your level as you munched on the fish shaped cookies and colored in a fluffy cloud a Care Bear was sleeping on. pulled you into a hug and pressed a kiss to your temple, “Daddy is going to be working in his office princess. can you behave like a good girl until daddy’s done with his meeting?”

the smile that was on your face disappeared, you didn’t want daddy to go and leave you alone!

I mean what was more important than sitting and watching you color? have you feed him the chocolatey goldfish and draw pretty sparkly hearts and shooting stars for him?

“Daddy I don’t want you to go! can the work wait?” you whine but Ari shook his head with a sigh, standing up to your dismay. peering down at you as you glare up at him.

“no the work can’t wait, muffin. it’ll only be twenty minutes and after Daddy does the work he’ll be back here. helping you color a page from your coloring book, how does that sound?” the soft lowness of his voice didn’t leave room for you to bite back an aggression but only nod.

“yes Daddy I would really like that.” Ari smiled to himself at that, thinking that your brattiness has finally come to an end as he left your room.

oh how wrong he was when he arrived back once the meeting was over.

Ari literally caught you with your hand in the cookie jar and you didn’t even look ashamed at all. not stuttering trying to explain your faultless contribution to this crime-like action.

to add onto the shock, when he snatched the bag just full of five goldfishes and crumbs did you start to cry and spiral into you tantrum even when he said nothing yet.

now we are here five minutes later.

with Ari looking down at your still continuing tantrum but noticing it’s lessening with your kicks and whines.

the only thing he feels is disappointment.

not only were you ruining your chances of watching the annual cartoon marathon the cable TV’s going to premiere later on tonight— that he allowed you to stay up to after relentless begs and your good behavior from previous weeks before — but you completely spoiled your appetite for dinner.

your favorite meal he made specially to go along with the cartoon marathon but now watching your tantrum become even more relentless Ari is confirming that you most definitely will not participate in it. maybe even cut your day short once you complete your night routine after dinner and make you head straight to bed.

“are you done being a brat now?” Ari, you’re soft daddy bear snapped viciously.

however you’re still letting out whines and sniffs as you reveal your red teary eyes from the carpet. the sight of them makes him want to drop the bag, kneel down and scoop you in his arms. kiss your face and tell you he’s sorry that he took the cookies away from you, but he can’t.

Ari cannot let this tantrum slide and give you what you want no matter how much it hurts his heart he isn’t trying to calm you down himself in the security and warmth of his arms around his little one.

he needs to put his foot down.

and it serves him right, because once latching your eyes on your mean Daddy’s austere blues you grab your white tiger stuffie nearby. covering your tear stricken face within the faux white fur with a gritted and bratty hmph!

it was infuriating how your Daddy had to take all the things you wanted away from you. obviously you didn’t have a say in anything cause you were suppose to be his good girl but why continue to act good now when you know you’re Daddy is going to ruin the only thing that you’ve been anticipated since the beginning of December?

today approximately around eight o’clock on the dot the big people channel you were forbidden to watch from was going to premiere all your favorite holiday cartoons. The Powerpuff Girls, Scooby Doo, Charlie Brown, Looney Tunes, and the various vintage episodes of nostalgic Mickey Mouse.

if all went wrong as you went down with your ship you could watch some of the holiday issued tapes of Strawberry Shortcake and Winnie the Pooh on your vcr but it wasn’t as often you would have access to the other cartoon specials you enjoyed premiering their limited episodes at the touch of a remote and Ari knows this!

your big mean Daddy knows how much you’ve been looking forward to it but he’s probably going to instead send you off to your secluded bed in the separate room he sends you to when he was to furious to have you sleep with him in your shared big king bed after dinner.

belly full of your favorite food that’s going to stir badly in your stomach as you shift under your warm covers restless because it wouldn’t be your goddamn bedtime. only having the single company of your golden fairy nighty nightlight and the only stuffie he’d allow you to cuddle for the night.

it makes you want to explode because you know how this is going to end but you’re head is to tired to even say anything in retaliation or beg him not to reconsider.

but maybe… if you think up something quick to throw him off it’ll buy you enough time to behave and show him you could be good.

even though you screamed all the naughty no-no words Ari would have you over his lap in a second if you even thought of them. throat sore and red eyes stinging from crying so damn much and rubbing your closed eyelid fiercely against the play rug and stuffie.

a plan is concocting in your mind, nothing devious but it will have its dose of your witty pettiness and unholy brattiness.

daddy won’t suspect a thing, you thought as you stopped your sniffs and cries.

wiped your tears with the cashmere sleeve of your cropped lavender cardigan as you got up from your sprawled position. patted your argyle patterned skirt down to smooth out any wrinkles and got back to work on the arts and crafts table.

and your plan is beginning to work because it does take Ari by surprise when you get up from your pathetic little position. the purple argyle skirt now fully covering your bum, he knows you’re ignoring his stern stare when you scoot your knees back to the small crafts table.

continuing to color from your coloring book as if nothing happened.

Ari scoffs to himself, what kind of mind game were you playing on him?

“what do you think you’re doing muffin?” Ari spoke and for once you stare back at him. eyes slightly red as evidence of your crying, they’re calm now as they meet his.

“nothing Daddy, i’m just coloring,” you spoke, the crayon in your hand shading in a midnight sky. Ari continues to stare down until he takes the crayon from you— but what he doesn’t expect is that when he snatches the crayon from you he accidently knocked over your apple juice box.

the mellow yellowish liquid spills onto your crayon box, containing the limited edition colors you prized. soaking your beloved coloring tools with the sticky juice; it made your bottom lip tremble as you quickly grab the slightly soggy box. you let out a whine as you feel tears spring in your eyes.

the unintentional incident and your heartbroken state almost has Ari yet again stumbling to fix what wasn’t really his fault. leaving the room to get paper towels and a cleaning spray.

coming to terms with this, you’re surprised to find the casualty of your crayons diverting the attention away from you and onto something else.

maybe if you kept this up, eight o’clock would come and he’d have nothing else to do then allow you to have your cartoon marathon.

you thought as you tapped a single finger to your peachy cheek in thought.

all you had to do was put him in situations that would conflict him into think it was initially his fault therefore guilting him into giving you what you wanted!

then you’d be set on the living room rug with a plate of your favorite food on your lap. a stuffie at your hip and looking up at the tv as the credits for the first cartoon of the night rolled in.

quickly finding some Lysol wipes and tissues in the playroom you clean up the mess and the cardboard crayon box as Ari’s loud footsteps come closer and closer.

swiftly disposing them in the craft trash basket and settled in your cushion seat before he arrived in the doorway with his arms full of cleaning supplies. when Ari stepped back into the room he was surprised to find you already cleaned up the mess and properly sitting as you continued coloring.

twirling a braided lock of purple silk bowed hair around your finger. figuratively showing how much you were controlling those dominant Daddy instincts of his he wasn’t going to have you get your way.

you still need to come to terms of all the wrongs you committed today and if all goes well he’d decide if you could attend to that cartoon marathon. “muffin?” Ari spoke and on que your head lifts up, your pearly white smile so tender and innocent as if you weren’t messing with mind to get whatever you wanted.

meaning excuse all the trouble you got yourself into.

“yes Daddy?” voice soft and perky as you settle the crayon on the table, he catches you sitting up straighter. elbows resting on the table and arms pressing close to your chest to pronounce your plump cleavage the top three un-buttoned piece of your cardigan displayed.

the delicious sight has him licking his lips, wanting to throw you over his shoulder with the loud and rough slaps to your ass and take you to your room. throwing you on the bed and rip every little piece of clothing off of you.

—but that’s what you want him to do, you want to have him distracted from the task at hand. especially when the task is putting you in your place and marginalizing your chances of watching the night special of holiday cartoons.

“what do brats get?” that question has you dropping your eyes from his to stare blankly at the coloring book and lined arrange of crayons in front of you.

did you want to answer him correctly or did you not want to answer at all?

the options where bouncing in your head but you didn’t realize Ari’s still waiting for you to answer when you ignored the question. picking up a crayon and colored in a Care Bear as if he didn’t ask you anything at all.

“muffin are you listening to me?” Ari sighs, tone no longer the softness as a few minutes ago and no longer bearing the same patience as before.

it doesn’t match your inattentive focus, you’re still coloring and teasing him. the sleeve of the tight periwinkle cardigan slipping off your shoulder, showing more of your rich skin that Ari wants to kiss and mark with his lips.

shaking his head out of it, telling himself that he was the adult and you were the brat and he was going to— no matter how much you were going to cry — discipline you into obedience and get his well behaved muffin back.

“i’m going to count to three and if-” he’s cut off when you roll your eyes on him, catching his voice in his mouth like a frog in his throat. Ari’s conflicted entirely and pissed entirely because you’ve never rolled your eyes at him, ever.

so as you persisted to ignore Ari, scribbling one of your multi colored crayons, you have a pink one in your hand. shading in a heart and an idea shines like a lightbulb above his head.

without any warning his large hands snatch the coloring book from under your grasp. the pale purple crayon in your small hand that was once shading in Share Bears fur runs along the whole paper. the sudden climax of running colored wax against moving paper, shocking you to a gasp.

an offended wail excludes from your mouth but Ari is too pissed to feel sympathetic. getting up he holds the coloring book he bought for you during the weekend above his head. somewhat enjoying and taking pleasure as you stand up on your tippy toes and jump to retrieve it with fail.

indeed taking pleasure as he stares down at your full tits bouncing in your comfortable tube top that’s underneath the cardigan. loving your cries and whines as you beg him to give your coloring book back.

eyeing your tiny delicious figure that's far too small to reach the skyscraper height that holds your beloved Care Bears coloring book. it made Ari’s heart melt when you hugged and pressed your kisses all over his bearded face when he gifted you it some day ago but he never thought he’d enjoy taking it away from you.

right now he has to put you in your place and ignore the tightness in his pants to deal with later. “Daddy you ruined my drawing!” your sobs and whimpers proclaim, continuing to jump as your cries became louder and tears become more present.

“you didn’t answer Daddy’s question little one,” he hissed and with that your cries come to an end to just reveal a glare then a smirk.

quitting your attempts of retrieving the coloring book you turn around and walk away. a slight hypnotic flow of your hips and curves making Ari’s eyes train to the plump assets.

“what was the question again?” you sighed tiredly, encouraging the deadly glare your Daddy has on you.

a yawn overcoming you as you hovered your hand over your mouth that makes Ari scoff. glossy lips still bearing cookie crumbs at the corners you stretched, you lick them off and you bite your lip at him.

mocking him in your divine rebelliousness.

letting out little high pitched noises as you arched your back with your hands twined together above your head. again, to emphasize your cleavage, “would it just go in one ear and out the other or would you actually listen and answer like a good girl?” Ari seethed.

you stand there and register it and of course you were heading off the direction you want but maybe you can turn the tables on him. “i’ll be a good girl Daddy, I promise i’ll listen,” voice soft and assured.

Ari cocks his head to the side at that promise, quirking a brow but not breaking the stare he has on his precious angel that’s playing the devil. he’ll put that promise to the test, walking around the small yet wide arts and crafts table he finally stands in front of you.

making you heart thump louder and louder with each step he takes.

crouching down on his knees to face you at your eye level, Ari sees the devilish twinkle in your starlight eyes. waiting for him to ask the question he knows you can answer correctly.

“what do brats get?”

his stern and mean face that always makes you stutter on your own words and trip over your own feet clashes with yours.

of course you can answer correctly, you can but you can’t believe how fun and thrilling it is with not just your growing ego but the wetness growing in between your legs. soaking your lace panties when your hands lift up to trace his bulging biceps through the short sleeved polo.

“treats?”

you whisper, before your hand goes to grasp the bulge of his trousers that he lets out a pleasured hiss. before you can smirk he’s slapping your hand off his trouser covered cock.

and in a blitz of a second you’re squeaking out a squeal as Ari grabs you by your arm. dragging you to the rocking chair resting near your bookshelves of thick hardcover storybooks and sits in the cushion seat before throwing you over his lap.

whines and cries getting louder when Ari lifts up the tiny argyle skirt to reveal your ass. tummy squirming against his lap he pulls gently at your hair to lift it up.

“keep squirming and i’ll add another five to the twenty you already have,” he hisses but you still can’t believe everything has lead to this.

Daddy never gave you spankings.

never gave you physical punishments before but as much as you were despising the situation you can’t believe how your slicked core is getting wetter with each second that’s passing. with your Daddy’s large hands caressing your ass cheeks and those thick fingertips teasing your pussy’s slit.

“you’re going to count each spank I give you and after each spank I want you to thank me. no whines, no crying just ‘thank you Daddy’. do you understand me?”

Ari’s deep low voice above you rumbling your core like thunder on a dark stormy night. only leaving you to whimper in fear as you nod but were caught off guard when he landed a loud swift slap! to your ass. causing you to gasp in pain.

“yes!” you cried but squirmed when he chuckled down at you. leaving you wandering what you did wrong before he landed another spank to the same cheek. causing you to cry out and feeling the honey of your pussy drench your inner thighs.

“what was that? did you even listen to your Daddy?” he hissed as another rough spank crashed onto your ass, “what do you fuckin say?” he practically roared, leaving more tears to drop down the landscape of your dewy face.

“one! thank you daddy!” you wail pathetically, tears soaking your cheeks, you knew your Daddy is doing what was best for you but you couldn’t help but want to squirm away from his grasp.

catching you doing so he grips your neck in his grasp. “don’t you fuckin run from me now muffin, you acted like a brat so i’m gonna treat you like a fucking brat. we have one down and nineteen to go, don’t disappoint me,” Ari seethed before grasping your panties and pulling them off you.

by pulling off he ripped them at the area that covered your ass, marveling at the wetness of not just the panties but your pussy as well. “my muffin got worked up misbehaving? you get your dumb cunt wet when you disrespect Daddy’s authority?” he murmurs.

stuttering and attempting to answer the words become inaudible once your lips part at the calloused hands of Ari’s. soaked panties in his hold, he shoves them into your mouth. making you taste your own sweetness as he licks his own fingers from your honey and moans at the tangy palette.

“I thought we established no talking, you really are just a stupid little girl,” as much as his words sprung tears in your eyes you couldn’t help but feel your core burn. clenching your thighs together as result he darkly chuckles at the pathetic action.

his hands grip your thighs to forcibly split them apart, “oh muffin cake don’t distract Daddy now,” he darkly chuckles and before you now it a loud and swift slap hits your wet pussy. making you cry out in pain that’s slowly growing into pleasure.

“you’ve done enough of that for today. right now Daddy’s gonna have to punish you,” his hand that’s still at your cunt rubs it.

the slick of your wetness sounding off creating an erotic echo in the room and just like that he’s slapping your small wet pussy with his rough hand again.

“and no matter how much you cry or squirm or beg me to stop I want you to handle it like the big girl I know you can be. do you understand me?” his growl overcoming your muffled pained whimpers and moans as you feverishly nod your head up and down.

pulling the panties out of your mouth you nod your head, “yes Daddy, I understand,” you whimper after a few hiccups.

you can’t see the smirk plastered on his face but you can see his risen hand in the air from the corner of your dress up hand mirror. angled on the floor to capture the moment, shuddering when it disappears from the mirrors image you feel the rough spank at your cheek.

not as rough and angry as the first three but still enough that it stings tremendously, “two, thank you Daddy,”

“that’s what I like to hear muffin,” Ari smirks before getting back to work.

your Daddy continued to give you your deserved spankings, your ass bruised and sore by the time he was finished and was satisfied with each one you counted and thanked him for.

praised you for not squirming even when you wanted to as he covered your ass with the thin material of your skirt.

“you did so well muffin cake. handled and took your punishment like the good girl I knew you could be,” he whispered lovingly in your ear m as he carried you to both your shared bedroom to rub some soothing lotion on your sore bum.

“thank you Daddy. I-i’m so sorry I was so bad today,” you whimpered as chocked hiccups become more unbearable. eyes swelling up with tears and a little sob erupting from your mouth. Ari shushes it by taking your face in his hands and pressing a kiss to your lips.

“it’s okay baby, I promise everything is okay. no matter how bad you act always know, always know that Daddy still loves you. i’ll always love you muffin cake, that’s forever.” those soft blue hues lace with yours and you truly do feel at ease.

nodding your head at his soft supportive assertion, his forehead pressed to yours and your noses rubbing tenderly against each other. making you giggle and he grins as he laughs with you before setting you down on the bed.

Ari rubs the soothing cold lotion against your bum, continuing to shower you with divine praises, sweet appreciations and heart warming adorations that made your peachy cheeks sore from your never-ending smile.

afterwards he gently carries you in his arm downstairs heading to the living room. telling you how you and him were going to fix the coloring page he ruined as snuggle you face into his neck. large bunny stuffie in you locked armed connection he settles you down on the couch.

grabbing the fluffy throw blanket draped on one of the other couches he grabs it and wraps your lower half in it. giggling as he tucks it around your sides to make sure you’re nestled nice and warm, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Ari glances down to his watch with a soft smile, clutching the remote on the coffee table he turns the TV on.

smirking at your confusion when he goes on the channel that’s minutes away from airing the cartoon marathon.

“Daddy what are you doing?” your hushed voice catches his ears, Ari turns his head over his shoulder at you looking up at him with those conflicted doe eyes.

“i’m letting my muffin watch her cartoons. Daddy knows you’ve been waiting a month to watch them and daddy knows his princess deserves it,” his soft smile only but eludes your guiltiness.

“but i’ve been really bad today. b-bad girls don’t get TV time. they don’t get to watch cartoons,” you sob as tears began to fall once more but they’re quickly wiped away at Ari’s warm hands, cooing you into calming down.

“Daddy knows you’ve been bad today, but you proved to Daddy that you were good at handling your punishment. bad girls don’t get TV time, you’re right, but bad girls who take their punishments well and understand what they did wrong get TV time. because they’re no longer bad girls,” he smiles and you smile as well, leaning in for a kiss he accepts.

“there’s only a couple of minutes left before the premiere starts. Daddy’s gonna be in the kitchen starting dinner, if you need anything just call Daddy’s name out okay?” he whispers and you nod your head, shifting attentively on the couch to get into a comfortable position.

smiling to yourself as you pull your bunny plushie closer when the commercials end and the beginning credits to How The Grinch Stole Christmas starts to roll in.

you come to a solid conclusion.

no matter how you get in your bratty fits that your Daddy is going to forever love you. and no matter how stern Daddy is and how angry you are at him, you’re forever going to love him.

and no spanking or ruined drawing is ever going to change that!

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calpops · 4 years

Text

falling facade | c.h.

part five: falling fame

part one: falling flowers | part two: falling freedom | part three: falling fears | part four: falling failures

5k words

<< >>

Calming waves crashed on the shore line; Calum’s gaze would have been trained on the sea but Arden sat next to him in the soft light of the evening. A few weeks had passed since their last scheduled promotional post—the picture of them with Duke and the ring in sight had gone over well. They had found time away from the facade and with each other. Arden found solace in the quiet of Calum’s home in comparison to the chaos of Michael’s. Calum welcomed her, often inviting her, sometimes with the ruse of the fake engagement and sometimes all pretenses were dropped in favor of being real. All the time spent together offered new and old knowledge. Calum was finding memories with Arden he hadn’t remembered in ages. He was learning things from the years they were strangers.

“I can’t believe our parents are coming to check on us,” Arden said around a sigh as her fingers dug into the soft sand they sat on. “It’s like we’re twelve and in trouble.”

Calum chuckled at her thought and shifted to angle himself closer to her, to see her better and catch glimpses of the diamond on her finger sifting in and out of the sand. Her cheeks were pink from the day in the sun they had, hair pulled up in a messy bun atop her head and eyes guarded by sunglasses. They had stayed at Calum’s for most of the afternoon but a settled feeling of stir craziness engulfed both of them. Calum suggested the beach and when Arden scrunched up her nose and made a comment about it being packed and filled with tourists Calum smiled and promised his beach wouldn’t be. It was just a small sliver of sand tucked past a pier; only a few people ever ventured to the other side. It was quiet and desolate when they arrived.

“I can’t believe they’ve held off for so long,” Calum rebutted and ate up the raised eyebrow and crooked smirk Arden gave him in response. “Figure my mum would’ve hopped a flight the night the first picture was posted. Really going on a month without parents intervening is just short of a miracle.”

“I guess,” she said with a shrug as grains of sand slipped through her fingers and back to the earth. Calum watched as she lazily ran one finger through the grains, an indent of a scribble following her finger. “I don’t know what we’re going to tell them.”

Calum nodded, more to himself as thoughts consumed him, and shifted once more. His parents had laid off the questioning when it became apparent he couldn’t give them the answers they were looking for. Hence the surprise visit just in time with Arden’s parents' sudden decision to fly out as well. Calum and Arden knew it was planned, that they had called each other behind their backs with only concern and questions as motivation. It was too convenient to not be a joint check up. He didn’t know what they were going to tell them either. He had held his own parents off by telling them they were figuring things out; being a bit evasive and leaving explanations open ended and up for interpretation.

“What have you told your parents so far?” Calum asked, eyes content to stay on Arden as she wiggled her bare feet in the sand and her finger stalled in its scribbling motion.

“Not much,” she admitted and shrugged. “I didn’t really know what to say so I didn’t say much of anything. Sometimes I don’t answer. Sometimes I just let them talk at me.”

The difference in their methods was striking. Calum leaned back, hands hitting the warm sand and sinking in with his weight. Arden went completely still and contemplative. Calum did some thinking as well. It would be so easy to keep up the narrative they had going. The month they had spent together brought them closer and made the fake relationship feel all the more real; especially in moments where guards were down and the only eyes on them were each others’. Calum could very easily pretend the ring on her finger was real but they were still unsure if they were going forward. Arden had been the one to sway him into telling half truths; asked him to keep secrets so she wouldn’t disappoint her parents. And he had been the one to beg her and convince her into the fake relationship in the first place; it had been his words and pleading gazes that made her signature appear on the contracts.

“We don’t need to tell them everything,” Calum suggested and Arden’s mouth twitched ever so slightly. “Stick with what they do know and keep playing it vague.”

Arden shrugged and looked past Calum; her eyes were distant past dark lenses but he knew she was staring off at the sea. Taking in the waves and the way the light of the day faded and shifted to rosy hues that made everything glimmer with a tint of pink. It brought back memories of an abstract painting hanging in the Clifford house; a piece of art designed by gentle hands.

“Is that really what you want to do?” Arden asked and took the sunglasses off her face, perched them on her head and gave new life to hazel eyes. She gave Calum a serious glance, one that asked even more questions than the single sentence she had uttered. “I know you’re really close with your family. It’ll be a lot harder to keep up the act in person. We could just tell them and get the disappointment out of the way. Maybe it’s better to do it sooner rather than later.”

Calum considered her words deeply. He knew it would be strange to evade the entire truth with his family; he was nearly certain Mali wasn’t buying anything that he came up with for explanation and could read past the headlines and tabloids. Calum almost took her up on the offer, but the way her hazel eyes went glossy and her teeth sank into her lower lip stopped him. He shook himself, reminded himself of the deal he had made in his own mind. He brought Arden into this; whether or not it was his idea to get the ring and post the photo—they were both still hazy on that front—it was his management they were appeasing. To keep her safe. From the media, from management, from fans and friends and family.

“We might as well keep playing it the way we have,” Calum suggested even though the words burned the back of his throat just a bit. “We can tell them all of it when we’re ready. They’ll understand. What with the contracts and everything.”

Everything being the confusion that clung to Calum. Being the sense of protectiveness he had developed for Arden. The extremes they were fighting against. Arden let out a breath of relief and Calum knew he made the right decision and chose the right words.

“Thank you,” she said with unwavering eye contact that instilled even more faith in the path they were following.

They held gazes for a moment; the nervous fluttering and heat in Calum’s chest made him look away. Back to the ocean that reminded him of swirls of paint and moments he was starting to remember. He didn’t know how many times he had passed Arden’s painting in the hallway of the Clifford house. Only now, when it was out of sight did he pay it any mind. Arden stretched out beside him, let her hands fall behind her as she leaned back before eventually completely collapsing into the sand in a gentle fall. Her arms went behind her head and Calum was tempted to follow suit but found the view from above too good to miss. His eyes flitted between the evening settling in the sky and Arden lounging in the sand.

“It almost looks like your painting, huh?” He asked, unable to stop the thought from tumbling out of his mouth.

“Hm?” She let out a noise of confusion as she looked up at him.

“The one you did; in the hall at your parents place,” he explained and felt warmth crawl through him, up from his chest to stain his cheeks. “It looked like an ocean sunset to me.”

Arden pursed her lips and let her eyes drift off to the waves glittering with sunset. “Right. That hasn’t been in the hallway for years. Think a record plaque or some music award replaced it a while ago.”

Calum fell silent at that; suddenly immersed in the reality that Arden was his bandmate’s sister and her life had been just as much altered with the rise of the band as theirs had. He hadn’t been to the Clifford residence since their careers took off and they found places of their own. He couldn’t picture the wall with anything but abstract waves and colors that caught and kept attention. Even with a plaque or award that was sure to dominate the wall and domineer confidence Calum thought the wall would feel empty. He noted the downturn of her lips and the way she wouldn’t meet his gaze; something so unnatural for them.

“I always liked it,” Calum said to fill the silence and speak a truth and realization.

“It’s nothing special,” she said and Calum could hear the sentiment of comparing it to the band related piece that claimed its spot. “Art is just a hobby. I’m really not that good.”

The doubt of her own abilities left a lingering ache in Calum’s chest. He yearned to take the sting of her words away, to erase the frown and call her gaze back to his. But she was quiet and watching the water, the even rise and fall of her chest finding rhythm with the rise and crash of waves breaking on the shoreline. Calum bit his lip for a moment.

“I’d like a painting like it,” he decided to say, knowing exactly where it would go and how often he would admire it. He kept his eyes on her as she blushed and finally looked at him.

“Really?”

He nodded and she nodded back; made a half promise that maybe she could do that for him. Her frown disappeared but there was still an air of hurt that captured her. They settled into a somber silence where only the waves made noise between them. The sun was still out; just a touch of light gracing the evening and glittering the beach in a rose gold haze. It was quiet and unknown, hardly anyone lingered on their side of the pier and no one intruded on their business. Calum’s promise that it would be just them was basically fulfilled. Until his eyes swept the sand down the shoreline and found a girl with her phone pointed right at him. At them. Calum’s blood ran fiery through his veins, instincts running wild as he knew the camera was capturing their every move.

“Arden,” he said, trying to keep the panic from his voice so as not to alarm her; so she would stay put and not lurch up to face the camera dead on. “There’s a girl past the pier on the shoreline and I think she’s filming us. Just don’t sit up or look her way.”

Arden went completely still. The usual wiggle of her feet or bounce of her leg was panic stricken and frozen. This was the first encounter with a camera they weren’t expecting. They had employed tactics to keep Arden’s privacy as much as they could. Burying her face against Calum’s chest, hiding behind Duke and a kiss on the cheek, sunglasses and hat to cover up. Calum kept his eye on the girl in the most inconspicuous way he could. Behind his own sunglasses he wasn’t sure she would know his gaze was trained on her as she moved down the shore line and came to a more direct angle of them. Without thinking Calum was moving, shifting his weight to his knees and hands and hovering over the top of a confused Arden.

His back was to the camera and Arden was officially out of sight. She seemed to pick up on his intentions after a moment and a smirk. Her hands came out from behind her head with sand falling from her fingers and palms she settled her hands in his hair, trying to keep up the act and make the position look more natural and intimate. He shifted and settled his weight to one side, hip falling and his body guarding the side of Arden the camera could see. She turned with him, settling against him to better hide her face. Calum felt her warmth against his skin, felt his skin prickle and heart beat a little bit out of rhythm.

“I told you,” she said and her voice rang truths Calum couldn’t forget but would play oblivious to nonetheless. He made a noise of confusion to get her to explain. “I told you if it’s not paparazzi then it’s fans or social media or something.”

“You’re right,” he conceded but sighed. “Sometimes it’s like this. Some fans do this. But not always. Not all of them. It’s been a month and this has only happened once, right?”

It was time for Arden to concede with a timid nod and bitten lip as she considered the truth of his words. Fame always came with a cost; some paid it in droves and pieces of their lives. Others only encountered that cost occasionally. Calum figured that he was set somewhere in the middle.

“Maybe just once is too much for some people,” she said and made Calum’s heart ache; made a piece of hope plummet in his stomach and crash like waves to the shore.

With heart beating fast and hard he sucked in a breath and turned to see if the girl was still lurking. She had taken the hint and headed back toward the pier. Calum thanked her silently, appreciating the fact she didn’t push any further than what had already been done. He didn’t know how Arden would handle having a fan come up directly to them. If it would freak her out, make her freeze; if it and she would be okay or not. Her hands still lingered in his hair and for a selfish moment he stayed quiet; enjoying the feeling and taking a deep breath to try and remember the subtleties. Their moments of intimacy were scattered. The facade of it came with cameras and people who didn’t know the truth. The real moments were defined by privacy and small brushes. Legs touching as they sat next to each other. Hands brushing. Her head rested on his shoulder in a moment of peace. Thank yous said against his cheek.

“I think she’s gone now,” Calum admitted but Arden’s hands surprisingly didn’t fall. “We’re safe.”

Her fingers glided from his hair to his jaw and with bated breath Calum enjoyed the feeling and the flutter of beautiful nerves low in his stomach. Moving together, Calum leaned back and Arden settled to rest her head against his chest, one hand tucked under her and the other laid flat on his stomach. He didn’t say anything, tried to keep his breathing even and worked up the courage to run his fingers lazily up and down her arm. A new moment of bliss captured them as the rest of the world went static and distant. Calum couldn’t focus on the water or the colors of the sunset, he couldn’t hear the waves or the birds chirping overhead. All he could see was Arden’s timid nod and bitten lip; the uncertainty that crossed her face. All he could hear was maybe once is too much.

Sometimes Arden was able to let go of inhibitions and fears of fame. In moments when they were well and truly alone it was as if Calum wasn’t in a known band. He wasn’t a famous musician with fans and media eyes all over him. Arden made him feel normal and safe. But in moments where cameras invaded their privacy it was too much for Arden to forget. It made her feel unusual and uncomfortable.

“We haven’t gone in the water,” Arden said with a soft voice; hazel eyes taking in the ocean for all it was worth. “We should.”

Calum let out a small laugh at her insistence. “It’s probably freezing.”

“Oh it can’t be that bad,” she brushed it off and began to sit up; the second she was gone Calum missed her presence and the feel of her against him. “C’mon. We can at least dip our feet in. Can’t go to the beach and not go in the ocean.”

Calum followed her lead. Reached a hand out to grab hers and felt her fingers lock with his without even looking back. It was another small moment that defined them. He wasn’t wearing a swimsuit but he braved the lapping water anyway; the cool waves took his breath away as they crashed into his feet and the laughter that fell from Arden’s lips warmed him right back up.

“I told you it was cold,” Calum said as Arden shrieked at the water climbing her shins. He brought her closer with their held hands, let her arms wrap around his neck and laughed when it became apparent she was using him to get away from the cold. “Can’t go to the beach and not go in the ocean.”

Calum repeated her words as he lifted her up and brought them in further, the waves lapping up to her back; shorts and t-shirts quickly soaking with salt water. She threw her head back in laughter at his lighthearted mockery and the way her own words came back to bite her. With the sun setting and the heat of the day fleeing the water was even colder than usual but Calum didn’t mind the bite of cold on his skin when Arden was in his hold. When her shrieks disguised with laughter tumbled through his ears. When his name in her voice cut through and the force of the waves brought them even closer together. It took a few minutes to adjust to the cool temperature, little shivers still trembling Arden’s lips but joy lighting up her eyes.

She fell silent and Calum was quiet too, stood with his feet planted in the sand as the motion of the waves knocked into his legs, hands holding Arden up and the force keeping them close together. For just a split second Calum let himself revel in the fact she was so close. It was reminiscent of the dance floor and the living room. Foreheads pressed together, barely a breath between their smiles. Intoxicating sweetness right before him. And in an instant it was gone. Sugar was replaced with the spray of salt and honey melted away in favor of freezing water. She dropped from his hold but went on tiptoes, arms ducking into the water for the first time and a breath of disbelief rattling her. They looked out to where the waves were building; being only past waist deep they received the crashing end of them. They were alone in the water, a feeling of privacy veiling them as no one dared to brave the cold.

“That one looks…” Arden started, observing the wave building in the distance. “Too big.”

Calum scaled the wave in his mind, finding it to be possibly double the size of what they’d endured so far and his eyes widened. “We should run.”

They erupted into laughter and motion, slowly moving through the water. Calum kept a look out behind them, noting that the distance they put between them and the wave wasn’t enough. He grabbed Arden, arms wrapped around her from behind, held her close and tight and let the wave break against his back. The force of the wave was enough to have them stumbling, but with Calum’s support of Arden she stayed mostly upright as the wave passed them; soaking them completely from head to toe. If Calum hadn’t thought fast and held her she may have gone under from the force. He didn’t know how strong of a swimmer she was and wasn’t about ready to find out.

They stumbled out of the water, planted themselves on the shoreline with sopping wet clothes and hair and laughter that collided with the sunset. The waves barely touched their feet after breaking in the distance and lapping to shore. They took a moment to catch their breath, salt water nearly inhaled in the force of the wave. Calum couldn’t take his eyes off of Arden. The moment was dramatic and drowning but the laughter and the grin that couldn’t be contained left Calum feeling afloat. Her laughter bid his on, let chuckles fall from him in strangled breaths as he looked at her in awe.

“You saved my life,” she remarked once the laughter died down but a smirk still arched her lips and twinkled her eyes as she got up and offered a hand to him—she led him back back into the water, only about knee deep. “But you put it in danger first.”

A small splash accompanied by another giggle landed across his chest in a muted burst of cold. Calum was numb from the bite of cold washing over him so thoroughly, her splash was futile but her laughter made it worthwhile. Suddenly he was swept up in mischief, splashing her back past shrieks and chasing her through the water. Inhibitions slipped away and pooled into the open ocean, ready to drift away with the tide. The tense moment and anxiety of eyes and a camera on them disappeared into the sunset, ignorant bliss shrouded them in a curtain of privacy. They enjoyed the water and the sunset colliding against the waves in subtle bursts of color as time bled away from them; night approached with wind rolling off the waves and dark blue capturing the sky, shivering bodies wrapped in towels Calum was glad he thought to pack.

They abandoned the water and their spot on the sand in favor of the car with the heater thawing out their chills. They stayed parked with a view of the night and the moon glaring through the windshield. They were quiet and so was the night, not even the chirp of birds or the crash of waves made way into their small bubble of privacy. Calum chanced a glance over at Arden, sneaking a peak as she sunk further into the towel and watched the wiggle of her legs attempting to bring warmth back to her. If things were different; if she wasn’t Michael’s sister and their relationship wasn’t built around drunken escapades and forced facades, Calum may have thrown his arm over her shoulders and pulled her along the bench seat and to his side. He may have only packed one towel so they could huddle together under it and revel in each other’s body heat. But she was Arden and he was Calum and everything between them was too complicated for anything other than the facade they were living through. Or at least that’s what Calum convinced himself of in that moment.

Instead he just placed a hand on her knee as he had done before; the contact becoming more familiar with each touch. She smiled at him and slid herself closer, just a bit, just enough to communicate that it was okay and that the moment was real. It served as an answer and dug up more questions. Their moments on the beach, pressed so close and eye to eye. Pieces of her puzzle and past falling together. Calum had to wonder if those moments were real too. The line between pretenses and reality was becoming blurrier and blurrier as time went on and days were spent together without contractual reasoning. The sudden urge that had Calum jumping to shield her was less to do with a fuck you to management and more to do with a sense of protectiveness for her. She was timid in the face of a staged and known paparazzi stunt; Calum’s instincts went into overdrive to keep her okay during an unexpected invasion of privacy.

Their gaze broke for a moment, just long enough for her to let out a sigh and for the weight of it to barrel into Calum. Downcast eyes came back to meet one another and pursed lips and a twitching nose spoke of thoughts neither would say out loud. The quiet that settled between them was delicate, drenched in moonlight and privacy. Calum knew it was getting late but it was a thought he’d rather not say; the prospect of parting ways always hanging in the balance of time.

“It’s late,” Arden finally declared, saying what they both already knew and implying what was always to come. “Should probably head back now.”

Calum nodded and pulled his hand away from her, to put the key in the ignition and followed her suggestion as she slid back into her own seat. The drive was stalled for traffic and it bid Calum time to sneak glances at her; to note the way she burrowed into her towel and seemingly failed to keep wet hair from her eyes. Calum was smirking and holding back gentle laughter at her futile attempts to tuck her hair behind her ear; suppressed the ever present yearning to reach over and do it for her. Instead he reached for the radio and let music guide them back to Michael’s place. It was all too familiar a routine. Days spent together felt timeless yet too fast they would end up back in front of the house, back to Arden exiting the car and leaving Calum alone. The only good being the brush of her lips against his warmed cheek as she said her usual goodbye and thank you.

The house was calmer than usual when they pulled up but a light at the front was on for Arden’s homecoming. Neither moved once the car was in park—another piece of the routine falling into place. This time the blissful quiet that almost always ensued was interrupted by the ding and vibration of Calum’s phone. It was incessant and annoying, an obstacle to the few moments of alone time he had left with Arden. With eyes rolling and a breath escaping him he was ready to turn the phone off but notifications with Arden’s name stared back at him and stopped all movement. His anxieties and fears of a phone on the beach were trending. Photos and videos filled his timeline; moments he thought were private splashed across the internet for all to see. Calum knew Arden must have sensed the panic he was trying so hard to hide, her movement toward him and eyes finding the phone highlighting that fact.

The protective moment in the sand wasn’t surprising; Calum figured it would be posted but hoped he’d done enough to keep Arden out of the shot. The moments in the waves with laughter and guards down were what left Calum shell shocked. He thought the fan had fled when it was clear he was drawing a boundary in the sand. He thought the moment was theirs and theirs alone. Now it was an invasion of privacy.

Arden shook her head and Calum caught the shine of her eyes that showed her pain and hurt him as well. “I thought that was real.”

“It was,” Calum quickly defended the intrusive thought that his intentions were anything less than real. “I thought she left. We wouldn’t have gone out if I knew she was still taking photos.”

“Okay,” Arden accepted and Calum was relieved she was so quick to believe him; to trust his word even though the photos and tweets were much louder and painted lies so vividly and so easily. “Okay.”

She repeated the word but it was broken the second time, eyes fixating on the text below the photo; Calum followed her gaze and found scalding words of an unwarranted opinion. About her. He pulled the phone away and locked it; wished she hadn’t had to see that and was thankful she usually avoided social media. Hoped she wouldn’t have to see anything like it again.

She made to leave the car but Calum’s hand on her arm stopped her. “I’ll see you this weekend?”

She was confused for a moment but recognition filtered through quickly. “Right. I’m sure our parents will want to interrogate us together.”

She was distant, voice low and eyes wandering straight through Calum and past the tinted windows of the car. He let her go then, fingertips numb at the loss of contact and heart racing as she slipped out of the car without a near taste of sugar or a goodbye. He contained himself until she was in the house and the door was shut. Then his hands gripped the wheel with white knuckle force as he peeled out and headed home with his frustration. He tried to prevent it, tried to keep her from all she thought that fame was. He wanted nothing more than to keep her tucked away and into his side, away from flashing lights and out of headlines more than necessary.

Now the game was spinning out of their control and Arden was questioning what was real. Calum had those moments too but he was always able to reel himself in and feel his way around the uncertainty. He knew what was in his heart and mind, saw reflections of the same feelings in her eyes and all the smaller moments. He could tell she felt the weight of falling fame landing on her shoulders; he just hoped he could keep them and what was real from collapsing under the pressure.

<< >>

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lucky-bucky-boy · 4 years

Text

Muse

Pairing: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve’s little art hobby wasn’t necessarily a secret, but how good he was at it? That part was.

Word Count: 1552

Warnings: Fluff, eluded angst and insecurity from Steve

A/N: This is for a writing challenge by @jbbuckybarnes. I truly tried my best to make this my absolute most inclusive piece of writing, so if you have any constructive criticism on how I can do that better please message me.

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs welcome and highly appreciated.

Bright sunlight pranced throughout the small Brooklyn apartment, flittering and flickering through the air. A few tea light candles were strewn around on flat surfaces, emanating a soft vanilla scent that enhanced the sweetness that lingered from the nights dessert, a rare thing but a necessity with what was bound to happen in the next few weeks. Soft blankets and a peaceful quiet, comfortable silence that only made the warmth of the moment stronger.

Your eyes flickered from the book in your hand to your sweet boyfriend sitting opposite of the room in his favorite chair. A colorful pallete and a dirty cup of water sat on the table next to him, his hand moving in thoughtful flicks as his teeth nibbled at his lip in concentration. A few pieces of his blonde hair had fallen into his face, occasionally shaking his head to move it from his view and causing a smile to spread across your lips.

Steve has always painted. A fun little hobby to fill the time. Sometimes it'd just be a drawing, a simple sketch with charcoal. But lately, since meeting Dr.Eskrine late last week he's been specifically painting more and more. The colors on his pallete have even become brighter and move varied, but he never showed you the pictures. You assumed they were just personal little doodles, nothing big and extravagant, maybe something that would be somehow embarrassing for him.

However, you did know why he had been painting more. Steve had been recruited, kind of. He'd be the subject of an experiment called Project Rebirth. Neither of you knew too much about it, but you did know that within the next week or to Steve would be receiving his letter for him to be wisped away.

At first, Steve was excited. He finally had managed to find a way to get what he wanted, a way to serve his country. And you were excited for him as well, how couldn't you be? His blue eyes lit up so bright when he told you, so excited and talking so fast he was practically reminiscent of a puppy. He nearly gave himself an asthma attack with how much energy was coursing through him.

But the reality quickly set in for the both of you. He'd be leaving. Your Stevie, your perfect gentleman of a boyfriend, your number one supporter would have to leave you, and there was a good chance he may not come home. You two cried that night, a whirlwind of emotions laying catastrophy to your bliss, and vowed that every moment between then and him leaving would be the most special time you could imagine.

Some would argue that there wasn't anything special about this; About sitting feet apart, in the most peaceful quiet only slightly disturbed by the sounds of people going home after a long days work outside, doing your own thing. But you couldn't have this with anyone else, this comfort and feeling of home was something you never felt until Steve. Everyone was shocked when the two of you moved in together, but you hadn't wanted to let this feeling slip through your fingers, and you were even more grateful now that you had made the decision to do so.

Without thinking much of it, you sat your book down and stood up, moving to Steve. After pressing a kiss to his forehead you grabbed the dirty cup of water and moved to the kitchen just feet away to refresh it for him.

You felt his gaze follow you, as it always did when you moved about. He tried not to admit it but he was truly shocked as to how he got so lucky to be with you. Someone so caring, driven, and open minded. Someone who's inner beauty matched their appearance, who was definitely way out of his league in his opinion and didn't have a care in the world for how small he was. A girl who was almost too ambitious and too determined for her own good. You inspired him, way more than you knew at this point.

"Whatcha painting, dear?" Your voice cut through his thoughts as you came back with the fresh water, only trying to peak at the pad of paint paper a little.

The flush that covered his skin was far too obvious for him to play off, and he tripped over his words as he talked, "it's uh, nothing - really - I mean it's not nothing but-"

The light laugh that fell from your lips caused him to blush even darker. Steve watched as you leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before kneeling beside him. The look you gave him was too pure and sweet and he knew he wouldn't be able to resist whatever you requested of him next.

"Can you please show me some of your paintings, Stevie? You paint so much and I feel like this is a piece of you I don't know much about." The sweetness and curiosity had him cliff diving head first into falling in love with you all over again.

"Uh, s-sure." Steve did well of hiding the one he had been working on, sitting it aside and out of view as he flipped through a few pages of his painting paper and showed you a picture he painted of a garden.

Your breath was practically stolen as your gaze danced across the intricate detail of the picture he was showing you. Variants of almost every shade in the rainbow were whisped across the paper, creating a beautiful scene of blooming flowers and bushes, caged in by a white picket.

"You can paint? Like, really paint?" The statement came as more of a question, almost in disbelief with what you were seeing. You had sworn painting was just a pass-time type of hobbie for Steve, but you were wrong, way wrong. It wasn't a hobbie, it was a talent.

"A little bit, yeah, I guess," he mumbled, bashful and still not use to any type of praise. "I had- I had painted that one night after we had talked about buying a house one day. You said you wanted a little cottage with a white picket fence and a huge garden. I figured, if I couldn't give the real thing to you, I could at least paint you something close to it."

Your heart practically broke and swelled all at once. The sincerity of this man never ceased to baffle you. "Stevie! You call this a little bit?" You exclaimed. "This is beautiful. Can you show me another?"

He smiled, shy but hopeful and nodded. Steve moved down to sit on the floor with you, pulling a few of the papers out to lay across the floor, all different scenes of things you had talked about wanting to do together. A little bakery, a blue cottage, a cabin and lake. Your eyes scanned across every one, seeing every little detail and color, feeling like you were seeing a scene out of a movie, feeling like you could have actually been there.

"Steve, love, these are amazing," you breathed out, voice soft and quiet.

"I painted them for you," he admitted, voice just as hushed. He avoided looking at you, but you couldn't help but look at him after that admittance. "When I found out about getting recruited I starting painting everything we ever wanted to do together so you could hang them up or keep them to remember me, so you wouldn't forget me."

"Forget you?" The little pang of hurt was evident in your voice. "Stevie," you leaned over, cupping his face with your hand and making him look at you. A quiet exchange of sad smiles before you pressed a kiss to his lips, a promise, "I'll never forget you. I love you."

Steve smiled a little more brightly. "I love you too, doll."

"But," you voice had a tease, trying to keep the mood light and happy. It wasn't time for tears, not yet. You wanted as many happy moments with him as possible before he left, "you have to promise not to forget me."

Steve chuckled softly, shaking his head, "I couldn't if I tried."

And little did you know, the painting he set aside was his way of making sure he didn't forget you. That he wouldn't forget the way your hair sat against your skin, or the bridge of your nose, or any freckle and smile line. The warmth that emanated from you or the curve of your lips in a resting smile.

No picture could do any of that, any piece of you justice. So, Steve didn't rely on a picture, instead he just painted his favorite muse. After a moment of hesitation he moved to grab it. It wasn't quite finished, but almost there and done enough to show you.

"I painted those for you, but I'm painting this one for me, to keep with me while I'm away."

Steve sat back down, showing you the all too realistic portrait of you reading a book, in the position you'd taken comfort in over the last week. Your breath had truly caught in your throat this time, times welling as emotions bubble in you. "See, doll, I can't forget something I've painted."

Tags: @lokilvrr @hurricanerin @kcd15

#jbbuckybarnesBirthdayChallenge #jbbuckybarnes #writing challenge #steve #steve rogers #pre serum steve #pre serum steve rogers #steve fluff #steve rogers fluf #preserum steve rogers fluff #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #preserum steve rogers x reader #preserum steve x reader #fluff #reader insert #marvel x reader #marvel fluff

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winnerloser · 4 years

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idk who needed to hear this today but

if you use fanart for anything, you give credit for it.

usually i would just implore you guys to at your own discretion but.

i think sometimes people forget that if you use fanart without explicitly asking for the author’s permission, that's stealing. but obviously no one has ill intent behind it with this hobby, which is why crediting is important. it’s the least you can do.

it doesnt matter how much you use the fanart. even if it only appears on your blog once. even if it’s just a throwaway icon for a gag. even if you replace the icon with new icons from somewhere else. if it was on your blog at some point, and you don’t intend on deleting it, and it’s still on there, you give credit for it.

there’s maybe some leeway if you commissioned the art and/or the artist already cosigned you to using it without giving permission. but that’s the only special instance i can think of.

in that same vein, please just look on artist’s profiles to see if they allow reposting in the first place. if their account says no reproduction/no reposting/DONT USE MY ART.... don’t use it. if the bio is in japanese, chinese, korean, whatever- google translate it. i know google translate can suck but it’ll easily convey what you need to be looking for.

if you’re one to think that you don’t want to use source media like screenshots or mangacaps because fanart is prettier, don’t ignore the fact that the people providing you the luxury to do so are just that- people, who spent hours to draw what could amount to just one or two icons. who could’ve drawn what you were using as a commission for someone else. who more than likely posted the image without any idea what you’re using it for-- more importantly;

without any idea what you’re using the image to represent, what messages you’re trying to convey- with their image. the fact that the subject is a copyrighted character/isn’t theirs doesn’t change the fact that the drawing in and of itself is still their creation.

it would behoove you to start keeping tabs of the sources you intend to pull from. if you see a piece from pixiv you think you’ll consider pulling from- pluck it, save it, so later when you open photoshop you’re not sitting with the pulled image thats titled computer jibberish with no artist’s signature.

YOU KNOW WHAT? i’ll go you one even better than that.

When you save an image from pixiv - this one for example, by default it’ll save it as 78827921_p0_master1200.jpg. 78827921 is the image ID. https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/78827921 will take you back to that image. Plug in any other ID, and it’ll go back to its source. There you go. Easy if you accidentally forgot to keep tabs.

nobody is entitled to the usage of another person’s art, and if you use the excuse that [just by virtue of OP posting it on the internet, it’s free gain], that’s bullshit.

if you post anything- even a text post or roleplay thread- going by that same logic, anyone should be allowed to reblog it, remix it, go to town on it; it’s on the open internet, after all... right? No. you’re entitled to security in the things you post. you don’t really need to say “don’t/ask to reblog” in the tags for people to get the hint to not or ask first if they feel inclined to. if you believe you’re entitled to that comfort and respect, i don’t see why that mindset can’t be translated to fit the situation of artists. even if you don’t give a shit how your stuff gets circulated, at least try to look at it in the way that not everyone is you.

and not everyone is me, so some may be wondering still why they can’t just go ahead and do what they want so long as they’re not hurting people/keeping it lowkey. i mean, at the end of the day, there’s nothing i can do about it either. you can totally do whatever you want, im not denying that. but just know that you’re not 100% in the clear from getting discovered by somebody. you’re not impervious to being found. and reposting/art being used or transformed without credit or consent is a very real reason that artists get upset or even sometimes lock their profiles, delete, or stop drawing/posting, or stop making their art publically available. this is NOT just a western philosophy. asian artists do this just as well- hell, you could even say that some are even more stringent about etiquette when it comes to treating their works with respect. that includes reposting policies.

if you’re too tired/busy/lazy/forgetful/cursed to credit, that’s 100% not an excuse lol. or if you’re thinking, crap, i have all these nicely done assets that i’ve created but it’ll be too difficult to go back and retroactively find the sources!

idk what to tell u but tough titties bro thats a you problem*

uh, so to end this:

再版ポリシーが破られている場合は、お知らせください。すぐに画像を削除します。このブログから利益を得ることも、失礼することも意図していません。再版は許可されているが、クレジットがない場合は、お知らせください。修正いたします。ありがとうございます、失礼します。

如果违反了您的转载政策，请告知我们。我会立即删除图像。它无意从此博客中受益或无礼。如果允许转载，但信用不正确，请告知我们。我会马上改正的。谢谢，不好意思。祝好

this is in my credit’s page at the bottom. i can’t vouch for the japanese, but i can say with more certainty that the chinese is legible. if someone is better at japanese and has any adjustments they’d recommend, please do so! it’s just saying that i don’t intend to cause harm or disrespect by borrowing the artwork, and that at any of the artists’ discretion, whether i’m violating their repost policy or not, they are urged to reach out to me and tell me to remove their art if they don’t want it on my blog. feel free to snatch it and use it for your credits page, or write something similar in lieu of that. i’m 100% in support of that.

please be conscious and considerate of the people who work hard and do a good deal of the heavy lifting for you to be able to make your blog pretty and aesthetic in the first place. i think the bounty of beautiful and high-quality art for the pokemon fandom- or for any popular fandom for that matter- sometimes makes us forget that it isn’t a commodity. it’s something that when taken for granted, can genuinely affect others who work hard to provide content for people to enjoy. at the end of the day, they do this to make themselves and others happy. seeing others take that work without any acknowledgement to them is demoralizing, don’t think that they’ll get enough recognition from others to compensate for you. that’s frankly not how posting art on social media works at all.

i mean, even if this doesn’t convince you, i can only hope it’ll spur you to be more conscious in the future.

*i get that things happen and this isn’t meant to shame you if you happen to be one to do any of the things other than credit. but know that you don’t... really have an excuse when there’s so many different options, shortcuts and alternatives available to you. you don’t really cite from a shitton of different sources for your paper and then go back to pick through every individual quote to find where it came from to avoid plagiarizing. you just.. make a note or works cited. it takes like, 15 extra minutes. if you’re going to spend hours on photoshop or writing fancy infoposts, you can spend an extra 15 making a works cited.

#i dont know why i woke up so pressed this morning #me: oh boy 3 am (gets on my soapbox)#anyway. ..lol #im gonna repeat thiss for the day because im insufferable but im going back to sleep #also no this isnt vaguing at anyone at all i literally just woke up and was like oh.#this is a thing that happens.#i do implore you to rb this but im not going to hold it against anyone if this just ends up being a drop in the ocean #🌱. giant rat that makes all the rules. > MUN #long post

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battleshell · 4 years

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THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm. tagged by: @dansiere whom im care tagging: extremely informative meme for ppl who have lots of cross-over interactions, i encourage u to steal it from me anyway BUT @sternenteile @twelvians @stellamris @grandtales

My muse is: canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless / complicated

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO. [ he is a very, very minor NPC that i’ve essentially wrested from the game with my grubby hands; Gerson is a merchant NPC found in Waterfall, the third area of the game focused with water themes. he has less than 100 lines of dialogue (but jam-packed full of info) and doesn’t even have an overworld sprite. although noted to have a history with multiple major characters, it’s not often i’ve seen him be the main focus of any fanfics or art pieces. ]

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK. [ put that faaaaaaaar away from me please tyty ]

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK. [ i personally believe that Gerson is a strong and potentially powerful monster with fighting capability that could rival some of the stronger Monsters in the Underground due to his background as a fighter during the Human-Monster War, but since has waned in both reputation and fighting skill. we never fight him in game and as such, will never see how he compares numerically, but it’s clear from his dialogue that he knows how to fight professionally/cleverly and would have given a hard challenge. ]

Are they underrated? YES / NO / IDK. [ i mentioned before that Gerson has ties with lots of major characters - I hardly see it being put into action or talked about! i also have a soft spot for elder/older characters in general since they seem to be overlooked in favor for younger characters that carry the action of plots - which I understand and totally get, but I still like to put these characters out there for the sake of it ]

Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG. [ he was a funny merchant dude that said “wahaha” a whole bunch of times and carried a magnifying glass; sure he and Frisk would have been good friends after the golden ending but most people have forgotten about their interaction with Gerson once out of Waterfall ]

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO. [ as one of the older if not oldest Monsters in the Underground, or from his reputation as the “Hammer of Justice” from wartime. he is also a historian and is noted to have written a few of the books in the Librarby. definitely known in the Underground, but probably only in that community ]

How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL. [ as mentioned before, a benefactor to the community and maybe even a sagely figure. a source of wisdom (even if cheeky) and a person of stability ]

How strictly do you follow canon? — ehhhhhhhhhh both extremely canon compliant and then hands off the wheel, let jesus drive me away~ i only have so much canon material to work with so i have milked as much as offered to me, then went off to forge my own path in order to patch up the missing holes then add a few sprinkles. the base of the character is all there, but if you really want to get invested with him (or me) then we have a lot to walk through.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals. — old tortoise (NOT TURTLE) guy sells knick-knacks and cracks jokes, knows everyone’s dirty secrets but thinks they’re just funny to think about them than use them. an elder in the community who has stories to tell and lessons to teach, who has lived through half of recorded history and now spends his time just trying to make things around him interesting. a war veteran who protects his community and understands the horror of the world, but keeps eyes looking into the future even in the face of grimness itself. plays the accordion and harmonica, could probably square dance if he knew what that was. will call you kiddo.

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?). — little to no motivation to find a passion for himself that would benefit or service just himself; his entire sense of worth comes from servicing others in some way (being a soldier and protecting people; recording history in order to teach future generations; maintaining a shop in order to literally service others) and lack of action due to decrepitude in old age. close-minded compared to other Monsters, as he doesn’t actually take to think of humans or outsiders kindly; judgmental to the point of being racist. proud and dislikes being one-upped that it could lead to pettiness, and despite his positive outlooks, very pessimistic worldview.

What inspired you to rp your muse? — funfact: Gerson is my first tumblr RP muse ever, and since i was worried about duplicate anxiety when i first started i specifically wrote him since he was a smaller character with less attention - i’ve since learned i have no anxiety about it so it’s no longer a problem, but what keeps me going today is the challenge of writing someone so different from me. the elder aesthetic along with homely, almost cottagecore kind of vibe is also appealing, and the humor that comes with gerson is a joy to write out.

What keeps your inspiration going? — reading literature, music, artwork, pinterest, replaying the game, and doing little hobbies that would embody the character (collecting or sewing, for example) are things i can do by myself, but with other people i have the most drive when i can have friendly and nonpersonal arguments/debates about character motives or about source material like what made a character act like this or that, or about really anything as long as it makes me seriously think about characters critically and force me to recognize flaws.

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice? YES / NO / I SINCERELY HOPE I DO? [ unfortunately i’m not a tortoise monster who lived for probably centuries if not decades older than myself, but i enjoy writing older characters and hope that other ppl see the potential gerson has like i do ]

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO / SORT OF? [ you know when you have a concept and in your own mind you can see it clearly, without fuzziness or confusion, but you can’t seem to put it clearly into words without it turning into an essay because you need to connect all the other points that’s in the single concept you envisioned? yea. ]

Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO [ bro i should.. ]

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO [ hmu if you got pinterest and i’ll give u tons and tons of boards ]

Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO / SORT OF? [ this is unfair to answer as (AFAIK) i am the only person writing Gerson in... any capacity. despite that i like to think i bring out the humorous side of him, and show ppl that he and other NPCs are tons of potentials and shouldn’t be overlooked because they aren’t popular ]

Are you confident in your writing? YES / NO. [ i always believed my style and my skill in not only PSDs or aesthetics, but analysis or understanding was always a bit plain, without much flourish or complexity. while that is appealing on its own and has its own merits, i can’t help but feel i can always push myself to do a little more, add a little flavor, or paint an image that could only be done in writing. although i am doing enough to get the job done, i’m searching for a certain voice of writing that i like and want to integrate into creative writing in order to make it more personalized and more engaging. ]

Are you a sensitive person? YES / NO. / SORTA. [ i despise pussyfooting and will often tell ppl straight up if i have a problem with them or something about them; straightforwardness, honesty, and integrity are some of my core values and that includes being harsh if it comes to it in order to keep order ]

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal? — assuming it’s rooted in goodwill or from a point of analysis, absolutely! it’s one of the direct sources for growth and getting better at any craft, but as Tumblr loves to be.... jumpy, i’m always cautious when its not from someone i know.

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character? — YEA BUDDYYYYY

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why? — absolutely, i thrive off friendly discourse as i mentioned.

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it? — if we don’t discuss it as above, in lit any other case i’d say “well there are other blogs to follow” but since i’m like 99% sure i’m the only gerson blog that isn’t applicable lmao; the point still stands that everyone has the freedom to write a character as they wish. there are valid reasons to dislike a portayal but not a lot of valid reasons to attack someone for it - with the exception of ppl being gross. stop that, nasty.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it? — strangely. it’s not my job to make people like a character, you either like them or not. if you dislike them for unreasonable points then, to leave in the previous response, “clowns will be clowns, no matter what you do. I just don’t get why you would follow someone if you hate their character to begin with.”

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors? — of course, as long as it’s polite and all that jazz!

Do you think you are easy going as a mun? — depends on the meaning - i like making new friends and i find it easy to talk to new people, be it about roleplay or other things like organizing video game play sessions. however, i also have on multiple occasions have approached ppl privately saying “this is annoying/this is problematic/this is inappropriate, stop” and been met with general disdain for voicing such so Who Knows..... (tm). at least on a private level. here, publicly, i’m pretty relaxed! memes and jokes are abound. as long as a person can be mature and responsible for their actions we can vibe, yo.

#definitely plan to link this in rules or something #as a guide for newcomers #what a nice meme!#* verbatim ⟐ meme.

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inviouswriting · 4 years

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Rules for mobile

All places and people have boundaries. I’m no exception. Please read these before asking questions or requests if you have any.

1. No loli/shota/underaged stuff. It’s illegal and I will call you out for it. I will never write for this. Not. Ever.

2. I write explicit stuff. Goes without saying… I write what I want. I can’t tag it with certain tags otherwise this site flags it. So if the content is longer than a drabble it will also be on my Ao3 and ffnet. You can find me under Invidia1988 on those.

3. No incest or rape. I find it disgusting. I will not write this whatsoever. I also ask that people making requests not include scenarios where character A finds out about character B’s past. I prefer to write happy and pleasant things.

4. I won’t write domestic abuse. It’s off limits. I rather write positive stuff over negative. So no scenarios of asking “reader/character came from a bad past. How will this character react.” Some doors are best not opened.

Clarifying rules 3 and 4. Basically I won’t write rape, domestic abuse, incest, reader was a victim of cruel things, suicidal thoughts, was a cutter, has scars or self harms. I can handle some serious topics but nothing that will be outright triggering to readers who have gone through these things. There are certain subjects that shouldn’t be touched just for a reading prompt. Out of respect. If I write something involving anything of these. It’s my own accord. I want to touch it and provide something to others who might need to read something positive about something dark they’re going through.

5. Do not steal my works. I do not give out the permission to repost my written work at all. If you see it anywhere let me know. This kind of goes without saying. Please don’t rewrite my stuff to fit your means. I do not take well to my stuff stolen.

6. Death/gore/depressing/graphic content - I am capable of writing it. Just not for this blog. I am no longer accepting requests for this kind of content. I will delete them. I won’t write reactions for “character is killed in front of character. What are their reactions.“ I don’t like writing triggering content for fandoms.

Angst is okay. There is a difference between tragic and angsty feels stuff. I just don’t like writing death as much as I use to. Unless it is my reaper.

Comfort and dealing with serious subject matter will always be held with respect. But I just don’t feel comfortable writing it for enjoyment. I have an original universe I do write this content for. So if you see one of my “Original Writings” this content is frequent there.

Thank you for understanding.

FAQs.

1. Why can’t I ask for incest and rape. Domestic abuse? Getting into the real of it. I did not come from a good childhood. It was full of all of this. I’ve been preyed upon by multiple abusers. I do have PTSD from them, so I keep it out of my writing to avoid triggers and I hate focusing on a negative point in my life. I’ve come a long way from where I was from my traumas. To anyone else who has suffered through it. My writing blog will always be a safe haven from it. This is the only place where I will mention it, I ask that no one come into my inbox for details. I already said more than enough I don’t like letting people know this side, but I feel like this is where I can explain it. It takes a long time to push pass those feelings. I still struggle with them, just some days are better than others.

2. What takes so long for a post sometimes? I have a full time job that takes alot of my time. I leave at 3 am every morning and don’t get home till around 5-7 pm. I’m tired. If I have time to write something I’ll write it. My free time is usually on the weekends. So patience~

3. Rule 5 explained - “It’s just written words.” Words and time I will never get back. Just like art theft, story theft hurts the people involved who spent hours writing and getting things right.

4. I don’t do commissions. I free-write. I also write for myself. It takes me a while to get inspired, and this is a hobby. I like to keep my talents and skills as hobbies rather than make a job or chore out of it. I feel like once I do that. It loses its charm. I did do that once for a fandom (not commissions) but I got so swamped that I left that fandom and refuse to touch it. (looking at you Undertale.) I by no means hurt for money, I have a regular paying job that takes care of me. So no one ever has to worry about me asking them for donations or commissions.

5. You posted something and now I can’t find it. I am normally proud of my written works. There is only one fandom where I have trashed every single thing I’ve written for it. If I despise one of my written works. I probably trashed it.

Personal preference in writing - I tend to try and write gender neutral. Unless prompted or I want to write a specific gender. I tend to lean more towards m x f stories. It’s more my element. I only really write lgbtq things when the mood strikes for them. M x M or W x W there has to be a flow naturally. If I get a prompting for it, then I will try to write for it. But please be patient even if it takes me weeks or months to get around to it. Life before fun.

I write for -

FF14

Kamigami no Asobi

Ranma1/2

Sailor Moon

Ragnarok Online

Bleach

Content I write -

Smut

Romance

Fluff

hc’s

oc x canon - (Usually my own)

original works

friendship

gender neutral readers

reader inserts

I tend to favor female x male writing. So you’ll see a lot of this.

What I won’t write! -

Death - IE - Character reactions to gravely injured s/o, reactions to love interest dying, being hurt, maimed, or anything catastrophically shocking.

Gore - This is not the blog you will see death and dismemberment and anything or anyone bathing in it. (I only write that for my original story.)

Rape (See rule 3.)

dubious consent (Still rape yo)

Canon x Canon. Sadly someone ruined this for everyone else. I won’t write something involving another character. Unless I personally do it. This will be once in a blue moon.

Triggering things - Following, stalker, Yandere, abusive content, survivors of things, Tragic backgrounds where character has suffered great abuse growing up or the sort.

Mental health or other dysphoria, real world problems. Unless specifically asked for a honest prompt. And I mean ones that are held in respect and never mocked.

I want to keep my writing blog drama free. The only time you will see any of the above is if I post one of my original pieces. There are certain things that should remain untouched. And doors unopened. My writing blog is a safe haven blog.

All of my content is my own. My prompts, if I use a prompt from somewhere I will have it credited with respect and a highlight back to where I got an inspiration from.

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winduphaurchefant · 5 years

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REALLY LONG CHARACTER SURVEY » Reese Farouel

RULES. Repost, don’t reblog! Tag 10! Good luck!

TAGGED BY. @to-the-voiceless

TAGGING. @fivebrights and anyone else who wants to do it since the rest of flowr has been tagged

BASICS.

FULL NAME : Charalise Farouel

NICKNAME : Reese, which she uses instead of her actual first name. It stuck.

AGE : 28

BIRTHDAY : 28th day of the 6th umbral moon (12/28)

ETHNIC GROUP : Elezen / Wildwood and Duskwight parentage

NATIONALITY : Sharlayan

LANGUAGE / S : Eorzean Common, Sharlayan, and bits of some niche languages.

ORIENTATION : Bi (is inexperienced with the concept of polyamory but might be willing to try if it comes up)

RELATIONSHIP STATUS : In flowrverse (our fc where we are All wol)) she’s most likely taken by Haurchefant because there’s absolutely no fucking way he’d die on her watch. In-game universe is less concrete, her self esteem is quite low so she doesn’t actively seek relationships but she’s prone to getting crushes easily; Urianger being one of them.

HOME TOWN / AREA : The Sharlayan Colony, Dravania

CURRENT HOME : A small cottage on the very fringes of the Lavender Beds. Also technically Fortemps manor and her room in the Pendants.

PROFESSION : Scholar (in the literal sense), Adventurer, and Warrior of Light

PHYSICAL.

HAIR : Café au lait blonde. She used to have it quite long, reaching past her hips, not styled in any specific way but brushed at least. After the Seventh Umbral Calamity she’s kept it quite short for practical purposes and usually hacks away at it herself, much to her friend Lunya’s chagrin.

EYES : Almond shaped eyes of deep blue with a halo of gold around the pupil, accentuated by her thick brows which are uncommon for most Elezen.

FACE : An oval shaped face with a tall, straight nose. Not overly animated in her expressions since the calamity.

LIPS : Has somewhat pouty lips and a bad habit of lip biting

COMPLEXION : Fair skin that freckles easily, she has the ability to tan but makes sure to apply salves to her skin before leaving for areas with more intense sunlight. Lots of moles, with a few noticeable ones on her face.

BLEMISHES : None that are noticeable

SCARS : A Lot. She has a very prominent scar across her back which she usually likes to cover up.

TATTOOS : None. She enjoys seeing other people’s tattoos but wouldn’t get one for herself, she hates feeling stuck with something.

HEIGHT : Average height for an Elezen at around 6′3″

WEIGHT : 180 lbs give or take, most of it is muscle

BUILD : Tall and lean, quite muscular but not very toned. Her muscles were built more for purpose and less for show, like a power lifter. She could probably roundhouse kick someones head clean off. Pear shaped.

FEATURES : Her prominent brows and two moles beside her right eye

ALLERGIES : No known allergies, but she can get sick very easily.

USUAL HAIR STYLE : When it was long she usually just wore it down and free flowing, she does the same with her short hair although it doesn’t flow as much.

USUAL FACE LOOK : Her expression is usually quite stoic with a hint of Very Tired to spice things up. Is known frequently to come down with a case of RBF

USUAL CLOTHING : Loose tunics and some fitted trousers and boots when she’s sitting around researching or not doing much, she’ll just pile on armour as needed. Starts to wear things that are a bit more form fitting or aesthetically pleasing as she becomes more comfortable with herself.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S : Heights, being trapped, death, death of loved ones, failure, being abandoned, and... spiders

ASPIRATION / S : To just be... content. Surrounded by people she loves and who earnestly love her in return.

POSITIVE TRAITS : Empathetic, resilient, compassionate, she is the unstoppable force and the immovable object.

NEGATIVE TRAITS : She is the unstoppable force and the immovable object. Tends to bottle her feelings and has a hard time trusting people. Self-sacrificing. Low self worth.

MBTI : INFP-T (Mediator)

ZODIAC : Althyk (Capricorn)

TEMPERAMENT : Cross between phlegmatic and melancholic

SOUL TYPE / S : Server

ANIMALS : Dire wolf, lioness, sparrow

VICE HABIT / S: Prone to bouts of just... lying there. Doesn’t sleep very well so she ends up half finishing a lot of things.

FAITH : Unsure

GHOSTS ? : Yes.

AFTERLIFE ? : Possibly

REINCARNATION ? : Possibly

ALIENS ? : Anything’s possible!

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : She really doesn’t like thinking about politics after being absolutely smothered by The Bibliothecs. Very left leaning

EDUCATION LEVEL : Received a proper education at the Studium in Old Sharlayan, sponsored by a certain Archon. Her interests were too varied to become an Archon and was constantly belittled for her niche areas of study. If she only applied herself...

FAMILY.

FATHER : Barnimonchet Farouel. (Status Unknown) Archon Barnimonchet was the foremost expert on aetherytes and aetherical travel. Having led repairs to multiple aetheryte systems across Eorzea and a member of the Antitower excursion team, he drifted (literally) quite frequently between the Studium and the colony. Despite his meek nature and tendency to ramble, there is no doubting that he was worthy of the title of Archon.

MOTHER : Nenne Farouel née Phillone (Status Unknown) Archon Nenne was a master in the studies of all things alchemical, including potions, crystal structures, and inks for grimoires and tomes. Her preferred area of study was researching ways to better the body and mind, noting the aetherical compositions of different beings and brewing revitalizing concotions; especially her recent invention which coined the term "Craftman's Tea", creating the recipe as a way to help her husband in his work. She often found herself in the Arboretum gathering ingredients and helping out her fellows tasked with groundskeeping, scolding tones of "Barn!" could be frequently heard echoing through the Telmatology quarter as her husband and formerly mentioned Archon fumbled his way through the vined walkways to visit her.

SIBLINGS : None

EXTENDED FAMILY : No knowledge of extended blood family. The closest she had to a parental figure was Archon Louisoix who had originally offered to babysit her as a babe when her parents left on orders to study an aetherical disturbance, after which they disappeared. He took on the role as a surrogate parent for her, having no trust in Sharlayan’s current care system. Takes on an older sibling role with the younger scions.

NAME MEANING / S : I named her Reese Peepo because I like Reese’s Pieces and the peepo video was popular at the time. Charalise is a nonsense name I gave her to fit in with why she’s Reese.

HISTORICAL CONNECTION ?: none

FAVORITES.

BOOK : She loves history books with any knowledge predating the fourth astral era, and has been known to read the occasional romance novel when no one is looking. Has grown to hate learning about anything Allagan.

DEITY : No specific deity

HOLIDAY : Starlight Celebration

MONTH : October (Fifth umbral moon)

SEASON : Fall/Winter

PLACE : Urth’s Gift

WEATHER : Rain

SOUND / S: Wind blowing through the trees, crackling of firewood, morning bird calls, the cello

SCENT / S : Clean laundry, freshly baked goods, flowers, cut grass

TASTE / S : Savoury, warm spices, nothing too sweet

FEEL / S : Heavy blankets, smooth crystal, soft leaves

ANIMAL / S : All

NUMBER : none

COLORS : Earthy colours and the blue of the ocean on a clear day

EXTRA.

TALENTS : Gardening, sword fighting, art, singing (she usually does it by herself), healing magic

BAD AT : Staying level headed, opening up, decorating, fashion

TURN ONS : Honesty, good sense of humour, kindness

TURN OFFS : Cruelty, making fun of her interests, being ignored, arrogance

HOBBIES : Researching lost civilizations, anything creative, cooking

TROPES : Rage Breaking Point, It Sucks to Be the Chosen One, Big Fucking Sword, Adorkable, Conveniently an Orphan, Friend to All Living Things, Broken Hero, I Just Want to Be Loved, Badass Bookworm

QUOTES :

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 : If you could write your character your way in their own movie, what would it be called, what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?

A1 : Probably a LOTR-esque high fantasy adventure movie

Q2 : What would their soundtrack/score sound like?

A2 : Lots of cello and choir pieces

Q3 : Why did you start writing this character?

A3 : She’s basically my self insert but with a little extra Oomph

Q4 : What first attracted you to this character?

A4 : She’s basically my self insert

Q5 : Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

A5 : She’s not very expressive, she’s not used to being super goofy or anything which I am

Q6 : What do you have in common with your muse?

A6 : Lots

Q7 : How does your muse feel about you?

A7 : Probably pretty chill, would probably go and get pizza together

Q8 : What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with?

A8 : Haurchefant intentionally or unintentionally tends to break her stony facade with his ceaseless flirting and a barrage of compliments which usually ends up with Reese either cracking a little smile or turning beet red and abruptly leaving the room. He brings out the morosexual in her. She instantly becomes brighter than the sun when she’s around anyone far younger than her, switching to a more motherly persona. Alphinaud and Alisaie receive the brunt of her affections before Ryne comes along. Neither will admit to the fact they both actually enjoy it.

Q9 : What gives you inspiration to write your muse?

A9 : Honestly listening to LOZ music since she’s basically Link but a little bit to the left

Q10 : How long did this take you to complete?

A10 : F.....four days

#ffxiv #ask meme #reese #reese farouel #elezen

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httpjeon · 6 years

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— ᴍ ᴀ s ᴛ ᴇ ʀ ʟ ɪ s ᴛ

welcome to my masterlist! please do not take and repost any of my fics to other websites. i have an ao3 at httpjeon and a wattpad at jvngukk. they are my only writing accounts outside of tumblr.

updated: 2/14/20 | latest fic

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o n e s h o t s

key ↯

a — angst f — fluff s — smut

kim seokjin

— change of pace | pornstar!au | s | 3.2k — read here ↳ synopsis: hardcore porn star Kim Seokjin begins his dabble in the world of vanilla porn. You’re his first co-star. ⇢ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴄᴋᴘɪʟᴇ

— folia | alien!au | a, f, s | 9.5k — read here ↳ synopsis: stressed from work, you’re sent on vacation to the beautiful, tropical planet of Liana where you meet a beautiful Folian man named Seokjin, who makes your vacation 10x better. ⇢ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴏғ sᴛᴀʀᴅᴜsᴛ

— mine for today | dating serivice!au | a, f, s | 6.1k — read here ↳ synopsis: as part of a special valentines day sale, you make a bid in hopes to get a special discounted date with one of the dreamy bachelors of club ardor. you decide to choose The Romantic. ⇢ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴄʟᴜʙ ᴀʀᴅᴏʀ

min yoongi

― love birds | pornstar!au | s, f | 6.5k — read here ↳ synopsis: being an adventurous couple has led you down a strange path of amateur pornography with your boyfriend Min Yoongi. you’re dubbed the Love Birds. ⇢ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴄᴋᴘɪʟᴇ

― clientele: cheat | escort!au | s,a | 3.1k — read here synopsis: in your little black book, min yoongi is your client tonight.

― show | boyfriend!au | s | 2.1k | ft. ot6 — read here synopsis: yoongi decides to show the boys how he makes his girl cum with his mouth alone

― keep the change | convenience store!au | s, a | 5.3k — read here synopsis: typically an old man works the night shift at Greg’s Place. however, it seems there’s a new cute guy working the register at night now. and it just so happens it’s finals week…

― from the ashes | mythical shifter!au | f, s, a | 12k — read here synopsis: you perform a spell to meet your familiar; what you don’t expect is a centuries-old phoenix to be the one attached to your soul. ⇢ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴏғ ʙᴇᴀsᴛs

jung hoseok

― barbarian | viking!au | s, f | 2.5k ― read here synopsis: your husband, hoseok, comes home from a raid with the need to make you pregnant with his child

― velvet | porn star!au | s | 4k ― read here synopsis: wanting to burn off some stress, you apply to attend a session at a kink dungeon. hoseok is your master. ⇢ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴄᴋᴘɪʟᴇ

― beleaguer | e2l, neighbor!au | s, a | 2.4k ― read here synsopsis: your neighbor is a pain in the ass.

― hot bot: test | sex bot!au | s | 3.1k ― read here synopsis: as a product tester, you have one of the most sought after temporary positions in Hot Bot Inc. ⇢ ʜᴏᴛ ʙᴏᴛ sᴘɪɴᴏғғ

― hypothermia | griffin shifter!hoseok | s, f, a | 10.4k ― read here synopsis: lost while wandering, you find your life on the line when you begin to suffer the effects of hypothermia. as you collapse, near death, you swear you see an angel… ⇢ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴏғ ʙᴇᴀsᴛs

kim namjoon

― tell me more | pornstar!au | s | 2.4k ― read here synopsis: as an up and coming porn actress, you jump at the opportunity to debut on Kim Namjoon’s Casting Couch. ⇢ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴄᴋᴘɪʟᴇ

― good to me | date-for-hire!au | a, s, f | 10.3k ― read here synopsis: club ardor holds a special raffle for a free night with a man who will supposedly be the boyfriend of your dreams. you definitely don’t expect to win. ⇢ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴄʟᴜʙ ᴀʀᴅᴏʀ

park jimin

― busanbaby95 | cam boy!jimin | s, f, a | 4.8k ― read here synopsis: your friend and co-worker does cam porn. After some unfortunate events, he asks you to join him in his…hobby. ⇢ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴄᴋᴘɪʟᴇ

― casual clothes | sex therapist!au | s, f | 4.2k ― read here synopsis: seeing a therapist for your sexual troubles is one thing but to land yourself in bed with the very man who knows your problems is a whole other thing.

― the hunt | white stag shifter!jimin | a,f, s | 8k ― read here synopsis: every decade, your village holds a hunt to find a legendary white stag which live in the surrounding forest. in recent years, the hunt has become harder as the population of white stags have declined. this year is your first time participating. ⇢ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴏғ ʙᴇᴀsᴛs

― make me hot | ceo!jimin | s | 2.3k ― read here synopsis: you messed up a presentation in front of your boss. he calls you up to his office.

― blowing dandelions | f2efl | a, f, s | 7.8k ― read here synopsis: as a child, you met park jimin. as an adult, the same jimin is much different.

― collateral damage | wild west!au, outlaw!jiin | f, s | 5.2k ― read here synopsis: you’re a simple bank teller and you certainly didn’t expect to be taken as collateral for outlaw bank-robber park jimin.

― hot bot: fear | android!au | f, s, a | 5.2k ― read here synopsis: fear is primal and causes one to make stupid decisions. ⇢ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ʜᴏᴛʙᴏᴛ

― lovebug | hybrid!au | f, s, a | 12k ― read here synopsis: hybrids are lovable companions for humans. unfortunately, most people simply want a cat or dog with which they can cuddle and love on. while looking for one to adopt, a lonesome hybrid of an unusual breed catches your eye.

kim taehyung

― 1-800-music-street | homeless!tae | s, f, a | 13.2k ― read here synopsis: you’re enchanted by a street performer and then he saves you, resulting in multiple meetings one can only describe as fate.

― work of art | pornstar!au, tattooed!tae | s | 3.1k ― read here synopsis: when you first meet porn newbie Kim Taehyung, you didn’t expect much. but once the clothes come off, you’re in for a wild ride. ⇢ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴄᴋᴘɪʟᴇ

― hot bot: gift | sex bot!tae | s, f | 3.8k ― read here synopsis: your parents have a gift for you, however, there’s been a mistake ⇢ ʜᴏᴛ ʙᴏᴛ sᴘɪɴᴏғғ

― tattooed two | tattoo artist!au | s, f | 8.5k | ft. jungkook ― read here synopsis: your boyfriend’s best friend joins you for a night you’ll never forget.

― warm | roommate!au | s, f | 3k ― read here synopsis: you return home to see your roommate jerking off on the couch

― king of the clouds | royal!au, arranged marriage | s, f, a | 4.7k ― read here synopsis: you were in an arranged marriage with a man you’re convinced isn’t fit to be your husband. he’s got his head too high in the clouds.

― witch’s brew | witch!tae | s | 3.1k ― read here synopsis: after a year of trying to get pregnant, your husband makes a special brew to make sure you get pregnant this time.

― blacklisted | dom/sub!au | a, f, s | 21.4k | ft. jungkook ― read here synopsis: after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men.

― a piece of you | abo!au | f, s | 13.9k | ft. jungkook ― read here synopsis: your alpha boyfriend does cam porn and convinces you to join him one night. somehow, there seems to be a fan of the two of you on campus.

― sehebon | alien!au | a, f, s | 16.5k ― read here synopsis: you find yourself on izo huen, home to the sehebon. luckily for you, you’ve arrived at an interesting time.

― by chance | hybrid!au | a, f, s | 11.8k ― read here synopsis: on an adventure, you stumble upon a jackalope. the creature ends up saving your life, leading to an unexpected turn of events. ⇢ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴏғ ʙᴇᴀsᴛs

jeon jungkook

― try out | pornstar! au | s, f, a | 6.6k ― read here synopsis: dating a porn star wasn’t easy. jealousy can run rampant if there’s no communication. ⇢ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴄᴋᴘɪʟᴇ

― simply.cute97 | cam couple!au | s, f | 6.5k ― read here synopsis: you’re popular camgirl simply.cute97. domjeon09 is your biggest fan.

― tattooed two | tattoo artist!au | s, f | 8.5k | ft. taehyung ― read here synopsis: your boyfriend’s best friend joins you for a night you’ll never forget.

― floods in a flame | dragon!jk, mermaid!reader | s, f | 7.1k ― read here synopsis: getting trapped beneath ice leads to an unexpected opportunity.

― sinful knight | knight!jk, princess!reader | s | 2.4k ― read here synopsis: even though you’re due to be married to Prince Jimin, you can’t help letting your Knight, Jungkook, into your bed.

― blacklisted | dom/sub!au | a, f, s | 21.4k | ft. taehyung ― read here synopsis: after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men.

s e r i e s

key ↯

✓— complete ✎ — in progress ⊗ — hiatus ✗ — discontinued

― bunny blues | hybrid!au | yoongi/reader/jungkook | a, f, s | ✎ ɪɴᴅᴇx: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08

― something’s not right | possession!au | a, s, f | ✓ ɪɴᴅᴇx: 01 | 02

― hot bot | sex bot!jk | s, f, a | masterlist ― ⊗ ɪɴᴅᴇx: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05

― risk it all | hybrid!au | jungkook/reader | a, f, s | masterlist ― ✓ ɪɴᴅᴇx: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05

― y is a crooked letter | hybrid!au | | jungkook/reader | a, f, s ɪɴᴅᴇx: 01

m i n i m a s t e r l i s t s

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fictionwriting · 3 years

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Casting Call?

Not quite yet, as I’ve only posted three very brief chapters on what is, at the moment, an extremely obscure fiction site, but networking is very difficult when one is obscure, so let’s put it out there: someday, I’d like to turn some of the stories I’m writing into low budget movies or videos, plays, or maybe both. This raises a few questions.

Q: Will there be pay?

A: No, probably not. This is just for fun. I can’t picture making any money off of these projects, myself, and will be delighted if I manage to break even. There is no revenue to share. Professional actors probably will have much better places to be, both creatively and financially, than on my backlot.

Q: How do we get in touch with you?

A: Online, you don’t. Any casting or other recruitment I do will be done in the real world, offline. There are a number of reasons for this.

1. Many, many people, down through the years, have come to grief by doing their networking online. Yes, one can fill a party very quickly doing that, but one can also get one’s home trashed by a group of psychopaths who will then vanish anonymously into the night, leaving one with a very large bill for repairs.

2. If you really don’t like getting out, theater is not the hobby for you. There is no hiding from the audience. A little mousiness is not an insurmountable problem, but if one is not willing to go out and wander, just how far outside of Emily Dickinson territory is one, at that point? Far enough that one won’t freeze on stage as the reality of there being no second take sinks in, and one’s eyes adjust to the point at which one sees the audience, again?

Even amateur theater calls for a little bit of a background, even more so with us, because there will be Improv work. Those experiences you have as you wander exploring the parts of the city, the ones that you don’t know in advance of your arrival, are what kick you out of creative ruts that you didn’t know you were in and give you something to play with when you’re up there. There is no virtual substitute for that gift of real world experience. I’m counting on you to go out and get that experience. The way you make contact helps to ensure that you’ve done that. When the time is right, I’ll be advertising in the real world. How? Maybe in PerformInk, if I can persuade the staff to not post the notice online. Maybe in hardcopy zines I’ve distributed. Maybe through the posting of flyers, though probably not, given how quickly those get torn down. One way or another, in you’ve wandered into the right place, you’ll see some sort of notice that points you in the direction of a short lived, throwaway website that will give more information, and maybe the time and place of a meeting.

Q: I hear that Supplicants has a scene in which a character appears in a state of undress. Is that something that you expect of those working with you?

A: You’re hearing from somebody who skimmed the story much too quickly. There is a scene in which “Meg” is unpleasantly surprised to discover that she has been so seen, in the past, by somebody who was spying on here, but there is no scene in which, present tense, she is going out there “thusly”, as Meg puts it. If that story should be dramatized, and you’re playing Meg, all that you’re going to be putting on display is your embarrassment and anger. You will be fully clothed throughout. Assuming that Supplicants even gets dramatized, which it probably won’t, given how much of the story is taking place inside the character’s thoughts. As for what I expect of the performers, in general … Note that I’m using Youtube to host our videos. The TOS there would not allow for the uploading of amateur R rated videos, even if I wanted to upload them. Which I don’t. Such a video would probably go viral, with a great potential for uncomfortable consequences for the performers later in life, even those who remained clothed. For this reason, not only would I not ask this of you, I wouldn’t let you do so on video. As for stage … I can’t picture a reason for there to be such a scene, and I will guarantee that I’ll never surprise you with one. As an actor, you’re creating a role, and like an other artist, you might get a little territorial about your creation. I understand and respect that. Having appeared as a given character on stage or video, you might not be too thrilled with having somebody else fill in for you in the same cycle of performances you’re in, any more that a sculptor would feel pleased with the thought of somebody else knocking a few chips of marble out of his statue. While I will write what I will write, and can’t make any promises about what your characters will be up to in print while you’re away, I can say that not everything that happens in print has to happen in front of an audience or a camera. If the understanding has not existed from the time you started playing a character that this might be asked of you, then I’m not going to ask you to choose between having somebody else intrude on your work, or you physically stepping outside of your comfort zone. We can just work around that scene. “So you’ll be telling everybody to expect this from the beginning, right you dog, you?” No. If I were to be putting on a play about the experiences of an artist’s model, then yes, there would probably be nudity. But why would I do that? In real life, all the model does is stand motionless. Where’s the story in that? Running a mental checklist of other possibilities, I just can’t come up with a scenario in which such a scene would be anything but gratuitous, advancing neither the plot nor the development of the characters. That being the case, such a scene should not appear on stage at all, I believe.

Q: “So you’re a bluenosed Puritan?”

A: I don’t think so. Others have disagreed. I would say that in any sort of art, there is a point at which less becomes more. While there might be something to be said for having a little extraneous material to make the piece feel more real, give it a little of the untidiness of real life, if one doesn’t keep the amount of that material under control, is one really crafting anything at all? Can one see the art under all of that undergrowth? If we’re introducing entire scenes that have nothing to do with why the piece exists, then I think that’s maybe a bit too much clutter. In Supplicants, it’s a fair bet that Jack had dinner before he headed off to Church. Notice how I don’t tell you what he had for dinner? This is not because I morally object to eating. It just doesn’t have anything to do with the story, at least not yet. The same principle applies here. Meg probably isn’t a virgin at this point in her life, but what would be the relevance of her love making technique in the story you’ve seen to this point? I think that to show Meg in the heat of action would be like having you sit down and watch Jack cook up his pot of white bean goulash. There. So now you know. Jack is a horrible cook. Who cares? Yes, we could probably get more people into the seats - assuming that there are seats and we’re not doing this out in a Park somewhere - by having people watch Meg do her thing. No, I’m not so clueless that I don’t understand this, but if we sink to that, is the audience watching the play or is it just biding its time, waiting for a striptease? To say “let us know why we are here” isn’t Puritanism. It’s focus. It’s also particularly fitting, given what I’m trying to do.

Q: How’s that?

A: In describing this site, what I’ve said is that if a baby is tottering down the center line on a highway on page one, by page two a truck will have struck the little one. “So, this is about sadism?”, somebody asks. No, this is about merciless realism, what would happen instead or what we’ve chosen to pretend would happen. Having a hero sweep in at the last moment and carry the child to safety would be a feel good ending, and certainly something that would make us cheer in real life, but it wouldn’t happen in real life. So, that male fantasy driven business of having women throwing their clothes off because the hero says “good morning” with a winning enough smile, aside from being in bad taste as far as I’m concerned, just doesn’t fit. In terms of performance, what I’m aiming for (and hoping to hit), again, is realism, taking the tone down a notch until the characters look like real people. Less screaming and breaking of furniture, even if that is what people have come to expect out of Chicago theater. We’ll leave the mugging to the professionals, as we move toward a more conversational tone, and try to have the drama grown out of the situation rather than out of the volume with which the situation is discussed.

Q: So you’re a professional director?

A: Hardly. Just an amateur who knows what he likes, and has noticed, of late, that he hasn’t been getting it. Contrived, “high concept” plots, acting that seems more like clowning than anything else - and high priced acting instruction that seems to offer the student very little. If all we are getting for our money is a few exercises that we could find out of a book, and some grumbling out of the instructor at the end of a scene as the only feedback we’re getting, then can’t we do that for ourselves? Just take the books and play, with maybe a small audience around from time to time so that what we get isn’t just an echo chamber.

Q: So why should we care about whether or not you like what you’ve been finding? Why should we go to so much trouble to seek you out?

A: You shouldn’t. If you run into one of my offline promotions, like the writing and ideas you see, and want to play, drop by and maybe we’ll have fun. If you don’t, no big deal, either. There are a lot of other people you can hook up with, and some of them can probably put on a much better show than I can. So, just let it happen. Or not.

I’ll be back, later. Coffee awaits.

Note: This was reposted to my Posterous, Livejournal (and Elsewhere) comment journal, having been moved from its original location in response to concerns raised by a number of incidents of censorship, at a company that had kept offering assurances to its users that it had mended its ways in this. Over the years, at each point it insisted that henceforth, it would sin no more, but the return to old, comfortable vices would always come so swiftly that clearly, no effort to resist then had been made, at all.

I had to move the post again, today, because my previous host, the victim of an acquihire, will be closing down in a few days. What a nuisance! One spends more time repairing the damage done by the unprofessionalism of supposed professionals, than one gets to spend writing.

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swampgallows · 6 years

Text

i just woke up, it’s close to noon here, five hours is good enough i guess. i keep thinking about college and how fucking suicidally depressed i was then and how ive spent half of this year being unemployed and generally just struggling to take care of myself in the most banal and basic ways possible, and how depression really does just delete years from your life. you live through them in a daze, you’re already a ghost, you’re already dead. questing in wrath of the lich king is honestly some of the last shit i remember concretely before going into a two year gray area of passing my classes and nothing else. i remember breaking up with my boyfriend because he chose raiding over me. i dont want to talk about it again. the memory is still painful. still, even still, ten years later. and in late 2008 i was attacked in my dorm room and i was screaming and my roommates thought i was being a big ol slut. they thought any guy that came over was someone i was fucking. when i went to blizzcon in 2008 and my brother stayed in my dorm they thought i was fucking him too until i told them he was my little brother. they tried so fucking hard to suppress my interests and make me “like them”. “there’s more to life than world of warcraft and pokemon” they said as if going to college basketball games and rewatching disney movies has any more enrichment or depth beyond what i was fucking doing. my life is so full of hatred, from myself, from other people, just being fostered in me in general, and it’s only within the last few years that i’ve gotten to heal from it at all, all the time being hurt more and more

i was talking to a friend yesterday who is just 19 and thinking about where i was when i was 19, which of course puts me in 2009 again, the year i dropped out of existence, and i was telling them about how i was essentially raised by the ilk of 4chan and the piece of shit community on wow that, like, since i’m around ~liberal genderqueer~ tumblr-type spaces all the time, genuinely shocks me to remember still exists, of those fucking hypermasculine overcompensating military dudes. and we were talking about how like, nerds in general tend to have shit social skills or anxiety or are Othered in ways that have them reinforce this piece of shit pecking order where the loudest and meanest proclaim themselves the Leader and everyone just follows them because theyre too meek to challenge them or they mistake arrogance for confidence and assume any asshole crowing that loud about how Right they are all the time Must Be Right.

and i thought of my own life, my ex QP, my old friend groups, my abusive ex boyfriend, how i mistook so long their malice as strength, how i was duped by their self-aggrandizement. they had no skills, no talents, no girlfriend (except when i dated them), no women in their lives in general, no real friends they could count on (except, for my abuser, an older man with 3 children and a brand new divorce whose house he muscled and manipulated himself into—”i cant even bear to be in the old master bedroom anymore”—and my abuser promptly MOVED HIMSELF INTO IT) no hobbies, and the one or two hobbies that they had—fishing, video games—they were fucking less-than-passable at. my ex-qp wasn’t good at video games. he would use cheat codes or just play the strongest character and rely on everyone else to pick up his slack. warrior, carry, tank, what have you; all of us his underlings to support him to victory—”I’m doing all of the damage and getting none of the kills”—he would whine, oblivious to the concept of teamwork and seeking credit within the only realm he had a semblance of succeeding in.

anyway so when i first joined tumblr i swung the pendulum in the other direction because i absolutely had to, it was for my survival to become a virulent feminazi as they put it, and i was obnoxious about it, and i reposted rape statistics all the time and challenged people all the time because i had to. i had to let it overtake me in order to purge all of the 10+ years of toxic social conditioning that places like 4chan and their little infestations in WoW and all of my abusive partners instilled in me. i had to be vocal about rape this and sexual assault that because i spent the better part of my adolescence trying to laugh away the fact that i was raped as a child, trying to make jokes about my “delicious flat chest” and pedobear and “surprise buttsecks/it’s not rape if you yell surprise” and “delicious loli”; some of the images i had willingly saved on my ancient hard drive are absolutely harrowing to go through now as an adult knowing my mushy impressionable 14 year old traumatized mind was trying to cope with and gloss over what had happened to me and with the future i was facing as a budding adolescent in this kind of environment. men didnt want to be responsible for what happened to me or with what would happen to me, it made them uncomfortable for me to talk about it, so i was told to laugh it away, that nobody cares that i was raped, that i was stronger if i could just laugh about it, that no topics were beyond reproach or off limits, and that if i wasnt desensitized to my own suffering then i was weak, i was a sheep, i was a burden, i was letting my emotions get the better of me.

obviously, tumblr as a whole DIRECTLY acts in opposition of this: everything is rooted in our traumas, which we are expected to lay bare for all to be taken seriously: 4chan demanded that we invalidate the trauma by making a joke of it and allowing the masses to pick it apart for their own entertainment, to become part of the anonymous “legion” by offering up our individuality to be consumed by the group (as a currency of “lulz”, basically); tumblr, reflexively, demands we validate the trauma by making it an open and public integral asset to our identity, to have easily digestible and categorized characteristics so as to fit into the tumblr hierarchy of needs, their own misinterpreted facsimile and microcosm of existing systematic oppression, and obtain a sort of fixed currency of privilege or “woke points” dependent on identity politics. so i definitely needed to purge my previous conditioning with this reclamation of my identity as a survivor, etc, and had about 7 years of misplaced anger and fury condensed into a good two or so years instead, and even now im still parsing details.

it wasnt until i was 22 that i had even heard the term asexuality and it wasnt until i was 25 that i realized i was bi (or “could be” bi), even though i had already been in love with and sexually active with women years prior lmao. i had been told by every possible source that having a dick inside me would change my life and change my outlook and change me into a better person or whatever the fuck, that i would “understand” and “grow up” and “become a woman” or whatever and guess what it did fucking NOTHING, just like every teen drama romance or whatever tries to stress over and over, sex is not a magical lifechanging event that hands you a million dollars and a healthy brain. it changes your life in some ways and it’s definitely not something to be taken lightly but in no way is it a cure for anything.

i dont know where i’m going with this, im just fucking pissed off about my life, im pissed off that healing takes so long and that i had to do any of it in the first place. im so pissed about all of my time wasted with this fucking piece of shit body and fucking piece of shit brain and i wish i could just go back to work and be a functional human being but im like just a short leap away from doing any of that. i have to get in touch w my previous HMO once the new year starts now that im confirmed for medi-cal, and i should have done it months ago, but i have to just accept that this whole time ive been not USELESS but just utterly CONSUMED by self-preservation, that it is taking most of my effort to want to be alive and stay on this planet any longer. especially now with my teeth bugging me so bad because i cant fucking take care of myself so im grinding my teeth and clenching my jaw and i guess eating improperly or what have you idont fucking know. im going to buy a waterpik even though it’s fifty dollars and i have not made ANY MONEY in the last 6 months or done ANY of what i wanted to do and i still have a number of commissions needling at me that i genuinely like cant fucking even look at withotu fucking hitting myself and crying, and im seriously not trying to make fucking excuses, i am so fucking ashamed and consumed by self-hatred about this, this has been a problem for me SINCE COLLEGE where i was an ART MAJOR that i had to fucking beat the shit out of myself to try to draw anything “seriously”, and i do mean literally beating myself, bludgeoning myself with my morris sticks and smacking myself in the face/head and clawing at my skin, and i fucking hate it

i just know i need like SO MUCH recovery or healing or whatever the fuck, i feel so long overdue for very basic shit, and part of me feels like a withering plant, like pouring water over dry leaves thinking it’s just going to saturate itself and be instantly rejuvenated. im losing leaves in the process, as it were, and getting no “water” all this time. i feel like i’m in drought mode. these last six months are me basically conserving all i have, toeing away from the edge of the cliff because iw as so ready yall i was so fucking ready, i was ready to jump off, i spent whole lunch hours just ready to fucking leap, staring down the void, staring at the winding road that went up the mountain, staring at the deer who stared back at me, hiding my face from Adults who treated me like a wind-up doll, i just couldnt take it, ic ouldnt be somewhere that sterile, i couldnt be spending so much of my life getting so little back, i coudlnt see my friends ever, i couldnt breathe, but in general my brain is sick and i need to heal from all of these things, i need to figure out how i can cope with being alive because i am going to be alive at least a little longer and i need to not fear and crave death simultaneously. i do not want to die, I DO NOT want to die, but i cannot live in a constant state of recuperating. my life has just felt like the Shutting Down... screen for the last 2 years.

NEED a new dentist NEED my teeth fixed PLEASE GOD open the stem cell dentin treatment to clinics worldwide GOD fix my TEETH PLEASE let me REGROW my TEETH NEED therapy NEED to fix my brain NEED to figure out how i can cope with being unable to support myself in this shit fucking economy NEED TO RECOVER NEED TO GET BETTER PLEASE IM FUCKING SUFFERING

#blathering

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daesaurus · 7 years

Text

Even if you don’t do art, gifsets, edit videos and photos, write fanfics, you are important and fandom wouldn’t exist without you.

That also doesn’t mean that you’re not an artistic type of person.

There are two types of artistic personality:

a creator, who writes, paints, draw, do videos etc.

and a consumer.

The person, who sees art, for whom it’s made. Without them it wouldn’t matter, because there would be nobody to see the creation. It’s one of the most important roles, but many people do it badly.

How to be a good recipient?

First of all, you need to give feedback. Every time you take time to see/read something. And it can’t be any feedback. It must be good.

Doesn’t matter if it’s a fanart, fic, video, poem or something else. Give kudos. Comment it. Even if you didn’t like it. Especially, if you didn’t like it. It takes only 30 seconds to write something and it shows the author that you saw their work and took time to think about it. It really motivates them.

What you should write?

Well, anything you want. “Great job, keep going!”, “I love the way you did it!”, “Wow, amazing work, I’d love to see more!” is enough. Really.

Of course, if you decide to say something more it’s great! Authors love to read your thoughts about their work. Tell them about the colours they used, how they match the scene and character, how they build the atmosphere with words, how you love the character development, the typhography they made. Tell them about everything that made you “wow, this is amazing”, about the piece that made you smile or cry or laugh or any reaction you had.

Tell them that you are waiting for sequel for this fic. That you can’t wait for the next fanart of this pairing. That you love seeing their work.

Thank them for it. I know that you know that they do it as a hobby, but thank them for spending their time anyway.

Reading this makes their day. And they’ll tell you that.

Okay, but what if you didn’t like it?

Then you have to write a comment anyway. Criticism is the most important for artist. Without it they can’t make progress.

Writing critique is harder than writing a positive feedback. You have to be precise here. The most important rule is:

DO NOT WRITE “I DON’T LIKE IT”

like really

if you want to write something like that, then better don’t write anything.

You must add what you didn’t like, why, and how they can change that. Constructive criticism is the only one which matters. Otherwise you’ll make them not want to create anymore.

So how good criticism looks like?

“The colours you used don’t fit together. If you used warmer shade of red it would look better!”

“The main character of the story is too perfect, you should add them some flaws to make them more real. Perhaps something with their looks - too thin mouth or some scar? Their personality is also too mary sue. Try to give them some bad traits, maybe they can be blunt or a bit ignorant and listen to nobody’s advice?”

“The person you drew has anatomically incorrect legs - it looks like they don’t have knees. Try to work on it looking at some photos.”

The problem with criticism is that inexperienced artists often take it too personally, like an attack. Good solution is to tell them something nice.

“The scenere is beautiful, but...” “I love how you write descriptions, but there’s something you need to work on...”

When you write comments it’s also important NOT TO DEMAND ANOTHER PIECE OF ART/CHAPTER/SEQUEL/WHATEVER

It makes them not wanting to contiune their work. So, yeah, encourage them, but not demand. “Is there any chance you’ll do it?”, “I can’t wait for more!”, “Please, continue this, I really want to know what happens next!”

What else you can do as a recipient?

Reblog. Not only like, but also reblog, so more people can see it. Don’t repost and if you have to ALWAYS GIVE CREDITS. And no, “source: tumblr” is not a credit (I feel like I should do another post about it)

Buy. I know all of us are broke, but many artists are really cheap (and that makes me sad). Just ask them to do something customized for you, like keychains or something like that. And pay them for it. Or just donate.

And remember

EVEN IF YOU DON’T CREATE YOU ARE IMPORTANT IN FANDOM AND IT WOULDN’T BE THERE WITHOUT YOU

YOU ARE IMPORTANT

YOU MATTER

(feel free to add some things that I forgot and tell me all mistakes I made, it’s late and my brain is tired so I could use some wrong words but I tried)

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somevirtualnolife · 6 years

Text

Five Straight Losses

3061 Words

Rating: T Pairing: Hawke x Cullen Rutherford Summary: It's weird for Aerianne to see Cullen not working, but somehow, chess suits him. Previous One Shot: A Scowl and a Smile Author’s Notes: Woo~ A real update rather than a late repost. This turned out longer than I expected it to be! I had a lot of problems trying to figure out this chapter. I kept writing something, then deleting it. Then writing something again, then hating that and deleting that. It took forever. Finally, I decided to settle on chess. I haven't been giving a whole lot of Hawke's POV in this story, so I figured I finally would this time.

There may be a lot of typos in this chapter, just because I wanted to get it out before I was tempted to delete it again. Either way, enjoy!

“Alright then. With this, everything should be ready for your departure. Thank you again, Hawke,”

“Not a problem. If anything, I should be thanking you,” Aerianne replied, as she stood up.

Working with the Leliana had proven to be more than fruitful these past few weeks. Aerianne had done more than her fair share of smuggling and spying back in Kirkwall, so she was no beginner to this line of work. But the Inquisition’s spymaster was easily the most skilled ‘employers’ she had ever worked with. The way that Leliana not only managed to collect information, but use it to her advantage was truly a work of art. Varric wasn’t kidding when he said that he could take a break from his own network and just count on hers.

“Oh, if I could bother you for one more favor,” the spymaster placed some the documents they just looked over in a large envelope. “I hate to treat you as a messenger, but if you could give the report to the Inquisitor, that would do me a great help. Last I checked of his schedule, he should be in the gardens,”

“Not a problem. I was planning on heading there anyway,” Aerianne replied as she grabbed the envelope with a slight bow before heading down the spiralling staircase.

With the Hissing Wastes and Fallow Mire relatively stable, the preparations for Crestwood were finally underway. Honestly, was quite ready for it. She enjoyed her time in Skyhold for the most part. Even in preparation for war, there was a certain serenity within the walls. One could collect their thoughts without the constant threat of immediate danger, but she could feel herself starting to get antsy. Something telling her that she had to move on soon. She never really stayed anywhere for long, not since Kirkwall. The title of Champion came as both a blessing and a curse over the past few years. Very few saw her as just Aerianne Hawke, the person. For some, she was a symbol of freedom and change. Others considered her a bad omen, someone who ruined their lives and futures. Honestly, she often wondered the same.

In Skyhold, there was some relief from it from time to time. She’d hear her name whispered from time to time among the servants and soldiers when she walked by, but they restrained themselves well enough, most likely due to the fact that they all had a common enemy.

It also helped that there was someone whose names and actions were even more divisive than hers in some ways. Reagan Trevelyan, the Inquistior. Herald of Andraste to some, heretic to others and most interestingly (in her opinion), the mage who saved the Order from the grips of red lyrium. If he was bothered by the opinions of others, he certainly didn’t show it. He took it all in stride. Aerianne couldn’t help but compare herself when she was his age, in a similar position. She was terrified of letting anyone down and cared deeply about what people thought of her. Even those who disliked her. That was her biggest mistake. Maybe if she had just been more decisive, less compromising…

No. What’s done is done, as Isabela said. She couldn’t keep dwelling on the past. It was better to try and focus on fixing the problems of now. Corypheus was their target now.

She eventually snapped out of her thoughts and back to the present when she heard two familiar voices, goading each other.

“Well, that is a clever move, but I believe the match will be mine,”

“Do you? Are you sure don’t want to reconsider your strategy, Commander? Because I have you in three,”

“That sort of trickery may have won you a few games back in Ostwick, but you won’t be getting any second guessing from me. Watch and observe,”

“We’ll see about- Oh, Hawke!” Reagan said, a large grin on his face as Aerianne approached them. He recovered rather quickly for a person who just spent weeks fighting Tevinter extremists in a barren desert. When he and the rest of the group first returned a few days ago, they looked like sandy, dishevelled and exhausted. It was the first time she ever seen requests for baths taking a priority over other repairs to the fortress. Aerianne was pretty sure that Varric just spent a whole day sleeping, occasionally mumbling about sand.

“Sorry to disturb your game,” she said with a bit of a smile. “Leliana wanted me to give you the latest reports for Crestwood,”

“Oh, not a problem. We’re just about to finish this match up. Commander Cullen seems confident that the match is his,” he replied, reaching out and taking the large envelope after moving one of his pieces.

“Is that so?” she said, tilting her head as she crossed her arms looked over to Cullen and the chessboard.

“What’s that look?” Cullen furrowed his brows and looked at Aerianne suspiciously.

“It’s not a look!” she protested. “It’s just interesting to see you do something that doesn’t include work. Why do you always think I’m out to make your life difficult?”

“…Because you’re always out to make my life difficult,” he shrugged and then looked back at the chessboard and moved his knight.

“Oh please,” If anything, she had been exceedingly nice to Cullen as of late. It was on him if he chose to groan rather than laugh at his occasional joke. Or a compliment, or flirty remark, or any human interaction that she considered normal among her friends. He really was one of the most easily flustered people that she’d ever met. And she was related to Carver.

Nonetheless, they were friends now, right? Aerianne felt that they were at least beyond acquaintances by this point. Perhaps close colleagues? She normally wasn’t one to categorize relationships with people beyond the typical social circles, but considering they were no longer ‘enemies’, it was worth investigating where they stood with one another.

The Inquisitor looked from Cullen to Aerianne, very clearly wanting to comment on their conversation, but then clearly deciding it wasn’t it place. Instead, he only held back a bit of a smile.

“Are you all done for today, Hawke? Off to go and see your other half?” he asked, moving his tower piece across the board.

“Varric? He’s been writing quite fervently since last night,” she replied. “ ‘A special request that requires my utmost attention’, is what he told me when I was in his quarters. I looked over a few of his pages for any obvious mistakes and it seemed like something for his old Sword & Shields novels. Figured I’d let him be until he had another pile of papers for me to proofread,” he was also lowly cackling throughout his writing, but she really didn’t feel the need to bring that up. He was always behaving overly dramatic for no reason.

“Really? He’s working on that now?” Reagan stood up, almost in a scramble. It was then that Aerianne could’ve sworn that the Inquisitor’s eyes light up in excitement.

“Wait, you’re not that one person who actually reads that series, are you?” Surely not. Or maybe he was? Actually, if she were to think hard enough about it, she could see Reagan reading that sort of genre. She didn’t mean that as an insult. Strong and a born leader might be the words that she used to describe him when dealing with Inquistior Business, but he was rather different off the clock. Charismatically cheesy was a word that came to mind.

“Me? No, no. I much prefer his historical works. Hard in Hightown is great as well. This is for… a friend,”

“Say no more,” Aerianne laughed a little, lifting her hand. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you popped in to check it out,”

“You mind as well, Inquisitor. I believe the game is done,” Cullen replied, moving his knight once more to take the Reagan’s king. Reagan let out a bit of a sigh, but he didn’t seem particularly surprised. The commander did call it.

“Bah. So it is. Rematch soon?” the Inquisitor asked as he rolled down the cuffs of his sleeves before nodding to both the Commander and Aerianne.

“I always look forward to them,”

Aerianne gave a slight bow and watched as the Inquisitor ran off. Why did she have the feeling that Reagan was somehow involved in this latest burst of Varric’s writing? And it somehow was all connected to Cassandra?

“I never realized that you played chess,” she finally said, looking back at Cullen, who seemed quite comfortable, leaning back in his seat. A strong contrast to being hunched over a pile of reports.

“A hobby I’ve had since I was a child,” he replied with a bit of a smile. “It’s a good way to get my mind off work,”

Aerianne nodded. It was rare to see Cullen relaxing. Especially as of late. He almost seemed intent on burying himself in it, as though he were trying to distract himself. Anytime she caught him in his office for lunch, he seemed to be talking to a scout, or signing some document, or finishing up a meeting. He didn’t seem to dislike his work by any means, but even those with the best job in the world needed a bit of rest.

“Would you care for a game?” he continued, looking a little embarrassed. “If you’re up for it of course. I’ve still some time before I’m needed on the training grounds,”

Aerianne almost thought that she misheard Cullen for a moment. For the amount of time they spent together recently, she’d never heard him properly invite her to do something beyond work. She was tempted to say something jokey as she often did, but decided to hold it back. She was curious to see what a relaxed Cullen was like rather than a grumpy, irritated one.

“That would be lovely actually,” she replied, taking the seat that Reagan sat in previously.

“Now that I think of it, I didn’t realize you played chess either,” Cullen said as he arranged the pieces back to their original spaces.

“I used to a bit with my family. It’s been awhile, but I imagine it’s just like riding a horse. It’ll all come back to me soon enough,” Surely it couldn’t be that difficult.

The first match went to Cullen. That was no big deal. He just finished playing a game against the Inquisitor and Aerianne hadn’t played in years. She needed to warm up a bit first was all. Nothing too odd about that.

And then Cullen took the second match. Well, no big deal. He did say this was a hobby of his, but she was catching on to his strategy.

But then she lost a third time.

And then a fourth.

And then…

“Okay, this is ridiculous! You can’t be this good,” Aerianne complained. It wasn’t even a challenge for him! He beat her in such a short amount of time too… He had to be cheating. Okay, no that was even less likely. Cullen could barely tell a lie, let alone cheat. Still, she refused to believe that he was some sort of unbeatable chess god. There had to be a reason for it all.

“You’re right. I’m not that good at chess. Dorian and Reagan have beaten me a few times. Leliana has as well, though she does have a habit of cheating,” Cullen then tried to hold in a laugh, but a smirk still managed to creep out as he took her king for a fifth time. “…But I think you might be bad at chess. Terrible if I’m being honest,”

Aerianne gaped at his comment. She was more than used to his cutting remarks when they got on each other’s nerves, but it somehow threw her off when he was so confident and distractingly smiley about it. He was using her own techniques against her! Ugh, is this what chess did to him? Is this where he saved all his charisma and confidence?

“That’s not true!” she then shook her head, quite insistently. “My sister and father were excellent at chess and I beat them all the time. Well, a few times,”

Sure, maybe she didn’t play all the time, but it’s not like she was that bad. She really did win against her family a handful of times. In fact, she still remembers beating them both for the first time. And they…

Were not as surprised as they should’ve been about it. They weren’t mad, or surprised, or even annoyed. If she were to think very carefully about their tone, it was a sort of fake-shock. Like when you let a child win in a race. Wait…

Andraste’s tits, they let her win.

“I’m terrible at chess,” A bit of an odd realization for a woman in her thirties to have, but there could be worse epiphanies to have.

“I’m sorry that this was the way you had to find out,” he joked as he started to put away the game pieces. Perhaps five straight losses within an hour was enough for the day. “Do you want to know what your biggest issue is when playing chess?”

“What?” she said, crossing her arms, clearly feeling a little sore about how bad she was. And she knew how Cullen could be when he had the upper hand. He’s get that annoying, satisfied smirk and proceed to find ways to work in ways to chide and lecture her. Lord it over her for weeks.

You know, essentially what she did to him half of the time. But it was worse because it was him. Obviously.

“You play chess like it’s a game of Wicked Grace,” he responded. “They both require different strategies, different risks,”

Aerianne chewed the inside of her cheek in annoyance, but she knew he was right.

“I’m sure if you ask Leliana, she’d be more than willing to teach you a few good strategies. Ideally ones that don’t include cheating,” continued.

“Not you?”

“Do you want me to? I quite recall you saying you hate it when I lecture you,”

“That’s when your scolding turns into a lecture,” she corrected. “I would hardly mind you lecturing me about something you enjoy,”

“Is that so?”

And there was that smile again. No, not the smirk. Just a normal, content smile. It was usually so rare, but she had seen it surface a number of times throughout each match. She’d even seen it briefly when he was playing against Reagan. Aerianne didn’t want to say that he should smile more often. That sounded a little ridiculous considering everything that was going on around them (also it was a gross pick-up line that she heard far too often back at the Hanged Man). But still… it suited him well. She wouldn’t mind seeing it more often. It was…

Okay, now she was beginning to sound like one of the staff in the kitchen. She really had to stop going there before she started acting like a giddy young maiden herself. They were all about true love and romance which Aerianne was far beyond that point in her life now. Yes, yes, Cullen was handsome. And considerate. And hard working. And adorably awkward. The list could go on. And sure, the way their sparring match had ended a few weeks back may have sparked a bit of curiosity of what he was like out of that armor. But ultimately, she knew it was a silly infatuation and nothing more. She would get over it, as she often did.

Perhaps Aerianne wasn’t the only one with a lot on her mind, as she also noticed the commander shaking his head slightly, as though trying to remove whatever current thoughts he had out of his head.

“But, uh, we’ll save that for another time. I should probably head to the courtyard. Recruits, unfortunately, do not train themselves,” he slowly started to stand up.

“Right. Yes,” she replied, doing the same. “And I’d best prepare for Crestwood tomorrow,”

While the others still had a few days before they headed out, she needed to inform Stroud of the situation and see if she couldn’t deal a little bit with the bandit problem in the area. The Inquisitor already seemed to have to deal with another giant glowing hole that could threaten the nearby town, so it was the least she could do. Plus, she moved faster on her own.

“Ah right,” Cullen replied, doing the same. “Glad I got to see you before you left then. It’ll be a little unusual not having you around for a bit. Lunches will certainly be different,”

“Well, I’m sure one of the kitchen staff would love to have lunch with you in my stead,” Aerianne replied with a bit of a smirk. “The red-headed young lady is quite cute. I’ve seen you glance her way a few times,” and she’d done more than a few in his direction.

“That’s not- Hawke…” he said with irritation. There he was. The grumpy Cullen she knew far too well. She could relax again and get out of her head.

“I assure you that I won’t say anything to her. It was just a helpful suggestion,” What a better way to get someone out of your head than to try and throw them into the arms of someone else? A flawless plan (a terrible plan).

“Suggestion noted, but ultimately disregarded,” he said, crossing his arms furrowing his brows. It really was amazing how easy it was to get under his skin as soon as the topic of romance and women came up. But she wouldn’t push it too far. He just got rid of his stress. She didn’t need to immediately pile up on it again.

“Alright, alright. I know that look and tone, I won’t pester you further,” she smiled a bit and gave him a casual wave before turning around. “Take care, Commander. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, hopefully,”

“Just… please be careful out there,” she heard him say. “For Varric. I know he, uh… he worries about you,”

Aerianne looked over her shoulder and back at Cullen. His arms were still crossed, and his eyes still stern with annoyance.

Or was it concern?

“…I will,”

#da:i fanfic #da2 fanfic #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age 2 #hawke x cullen #cullen rutherford #rogue hawke #female hawke

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thotyssey · 5 years

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On Point With: Preston Burford

This GLAM nominee became a a drag-favorite photographer largely by accident. Thriving outside the realm of NYC nightlife, the Dallas-born Preston Burford has a successful daytime job that fulfills him, and always thinks of himself as an editor above all else. Nonetheless, he’s presented us with some of the most fun and stunning visuals of drag fabulousness in recent memory, whether his subjects are Drag Race All-Stars or young queens on the rise.

Thotyssey: Preston, thanks so much for talking with us today! So I loved that mock-up magazine cover featuring your photo of Monét X Change in the runway look from the latest episode of Drag Race All-Stars. Paper Magazine, whose Kim Kardashian cover from years back informed Monét’s tribute, reposted it! That must’ve been a fun shoot. Preston Burford: It was a very fun shoot! Monét is always a blast to work with, and she makes the long days of shooting feel so short. The most recent look for the “Curves and Swerves” runway involved a lot of fine-tuning her pose to make sure everything was visible, while still trying to match the original photo the look was based off. In the end, it all came together so well. We had quite a few people on set with us while shooting her All-Star looks so it was a team effort. And I'm happy with the response the photos are getting!

[Monet X Change by Preston]

Did you basically shoot all those runway looks from her in one day?

We spread out the shoots into three days, because she's changing her makeup for each look to match how it was on TV. We knew it would be daunting to try and do all the looks in one day. She's also very busy with gigs, so finding time was the main hurdle.

I bet! By the way, did you understand at all how Monét wound up in the bottom two on this last episode? It wasn't even consistent with what the judges were telling her.

My theory is that they wanted a Sophie’s Choice for whoever won the lip sync. Making Monique choose between her closest friend and a legend who fans would freak over leaving... and vice versa, Manila having to choose a close friend or someone who obviously did better overall so far. It was for drama’s sake, which I find disappointing from a competition standpoint.

Also, the producers seem to have some obsession with Valentina... so they didn't want her in the bottom.

Absolutely, on both counts! Valentina seems like she's probably a lot to deal with in life... but she certainly photographs well. Maybe you'll shoot her one day!

I mean, she's photogenic, so I wouldn't turn her away. But I'm not good at hiding my emotions, so I don't know how long I could handle that eye-rolling alternate reality she's living in.

There are certainly a lot of divas in the biz! How did you find yourself in the position you are in today, shooting famous and local people in the drag and nightlife scenes?

It started out, and still is, a hobby. My day job isn't photography, so it started out as just me owning a camera for a hobby. About six years ago, my friend Roxy Brooks came to me needing some shots for promotion, and we came up with the idea of using the green screen that I use for film projects at work. The photos came out so well that other local queens wanted shots with creative backgrounds, and it snowballed from there.

The big turn was when Bob The Drag Queen came to me wanting to shoot some looks right before her season was announced, and we did the shot of her carrying the baby and walking through a burning NYC. That's when random people started knowing who I was. Now, I feel so jaded just working constantly with these queens that people would die to meet and hang out with. I never predicted I'd be where I am right now, but I wouldn't trade it for anything.

What is your day job, by the way?

I work at a Broadway-based design and marketing firm called Serino Coyne. I do Motion Graphics for their Broadcast department. I get to work doing commercials for many of the big Broadway shows including Wicked, Frozen, Dear Even Hansen, Torch Song, Aladdin, Phantom of the Opera and so many others. It's a really fulfilling job.

Wow! Do your associates from that world know about Preston the drag photographer?

They do! Most of them follow me on social media, and enjoy that my hobby crosses over with the TV show they watch each week. They always come to me as if I'm going to know spoilers, which I never ask the queens I work with.

[Bob the Drag Queen by Preston]

Do you find that most of the queens you shoot have a pretty clear idea of what they want, or are they looking to you for editorial ideas?

Most just want to look pretty and then they trust my judgement after that, but some definitely come in with a very clear and precise idea of what they want the final photo to look like. I personally like when they know exactly what they want. I always think of myself as more of an editor than a photographer, so the post production is what excites me. I like a focused challenge.

You collaborated on those short videos Yuhua Hamasaki put out last year featuring all the season’s challenge looks. That mermaid one was particularly sickening.

Talk about a challenge! Yuhua is a great example of someone with a clear view of what she wants the final product to be. I won't lie, I has no clue how much I signed up for when I said yes to editing those 15+ videos... but I'm very proud of how they turned out. Eric Miclette and Jono Freedrix did an epic job of directing those, and we shockingly shot them all in a single day. My schooling was in special effects for film, and it was nice to be able to show that off on such a creative platform that drag provides. Although now, every drag queen wants a similar video, and the time involved on projects like that gives me an anxiety attack.

youtube

Do you think there are any particular themes or details that set your final photos apart from other photographers in the scene, like David Ayllon or James Michael Avance?

Both David and Michael are genius photographers and editors; I get excited every time I see an update from them. I think we each have our separate style to how we photograph and edit; I know the moment I see a photo which one of them worked on it. I think that's something many photographers strive to accomplish -- a unique style that people know without seeing a name who worked on that photo.

In your photos, you all seem to have an understanding that drag queens are like real-life superheroes in so many ways.

There's a whole group of photographers -- not only in NYC -- that really help drag queens put to focus their visions, and really do in a way make them superheroes.

It's risky to read the comment sections on social media whenever a photo is posted, but there's really a surreal feeling to see the reactions of people being moved by a drag queen’s unique art. It's definitely amazing to be a little part of that process.

[Yuhua Hamasaki by Preston]

What should a young queen know right away when she wants to work with you?

Photoshop has its limits, haha! Honestly, my number one piece of advice would be to make sure they know who they are as queen. I see a lot of new queens get lost in trying to be something they aren't. Photographs last forever online, and that comes back whenever you start getting successful. I always tell the queens to relax, be yourself, and look at the camera like it's your best friend... or your enemy depending on the theme of the shoot. Although if anyone is coming to me for advice, God help them.

[Cherry Poppins by Preston]

Do you have a favorite shot that you've done?

I have a few, but it changes quite often. I loved the way the shot of Miz Cracker turned out from her Glitter runway look this last year...

[Miz Cracker by Preston]

From an editing standpoint, I've always loved the shot of Ms. Cheng with the red dress on a balcony in Paris...

[Ms. Cheng by Preston]

Fan favorites always seem to be Bob with the baby on her chest, as well as Bob with Monet as a baby in her arms.

[Bob the Drag Queen & Monet X Change by Preston]

For the last couple of years, I've been doing a series of photographs which are parodies of Broadway shows with the geniuses Sutton Lee Seymour and Cacophony Daniels. Those have been a blast to help create, and I just feel so proud that I'm involved with that series.

[Cacophony Daniels & Sutton Lee Seymour by Preston]

Congratulations on your GLAM nomination for Best Photographer! Although, I recall that you discouraged people from voting for you.

I did, but not because I'm not ecstatic to get the nomination. It's a nightlife award... and while I do work with nightlife personalities, I don't really feel like I'm a nightlife worker. I'm in bed by 10pm every night, and going to the gym when nightlife people are heading home. I just had a moment when I realized that winning wouldn't change my path in my art, but for some of the others nominated it totally could propel them forward. I'd rather see someone who could benefit from the award win it, as well as someone who's truly interacting nightly with nightlife.

I also lied, I don't go to the gym.

Ha! Okay, any other projects or shoots coming up that we should be looking out for?

I'm working with another Drag Race queen on her weekly runway looks, but the announcement hasn't happened yet... so I'm staying hush hush about that. Also the rest of Monet's All-Star looks... how many more? Guess you'll have to wait and see.

I just this last week shot with 10 brand new queens and Heidi Haux for the second season of the Iconic Drag Competition at Icon Astoria. And I just shot with Roxy Brooks for her European tour coming up. Yuhua Hamasaki and I have a shoot coming up with some fun ideas planned. There's definitely a lot to look forward to... I honestly don't know where I'm finding the time for this.

You’re amazing! Okay, last question: who's a queen, Drag Race-famous or otherwise, that you'd really like to shoot but haven't yet?

I've actually never shot with Bianca, even thought I've known her since before she was on the show, and she lived across the hallway from my best friend. I would love to do a shoot with her and Lady Bunny, since they love / hate each other so much. I think something wonderful would come from that shoot. There's so many other queens I'd enjoy working with too, too many to be named.

Go get ‘em! Thank you, Preston!

Follow Preston Burford on Instagram and Twitter, and his check out his pending website.

On Point Archives

#onpointwith #prestonburford

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