#why are there so many ways to tag a fanfic i'm sorry
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Of Hiding Spots and Refuges - Ch. 2
N/A: as I'm currently working on something quite painful (just how I like it), I decided to post the second chapter of my lil comfort fic here as well! hope you like it
Description: Just a platonic and comforting Steve&Robin bonding moment after Steve finds Robin in an unexpected position. (sounds vague but I don’t want to spoil it!)
Content warnings: bad parenting, but just hinted at. Mentions of homoph*bia and of the d-word used as a slur. Let me know if there’s anything else I should flag!
You can read Chapter 1 here
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‘I still can’t believe I’m in prom king Steve Harrington’s house,’ Robin said with a little giggle as she stepped into the hallway. Her mood seemed to have improved massively while in the car. Steve didn’t live too far away from Starcourt, but still made sure to put on some fun music on while driving. They also stopped to pick up some pizza, which Steve was now holding up while trying to close the front door with keys between his teeth. The house seemed empty, but a few lights were still on, giving a warm and inviting glow.
‘Upstairs, and then the door to the left,’ Steve said casually, setting down the pizza boxes and giving a sigh of relief after checking nobody was in. Robin went up the stairs and then disappeared on the landing. Steve got a variety of drinks from the fridge and filled up two glasses with some tap water, unsure of what Robin would prefer, and then carried it all upstairs on a large tray.
Robin set down her backpack, which temporarily contained her whole life. She then briefly listened to check that Steve was still downstairs, and changed quickly into jeans and a loose sweatshirt. Then, she took a second to take a look around his room. For one, she was incredibly curious about what Steve had in his room and second, being in a guy's bedroom was a rare and interesting occurrence. Her fingerx traced the checkered wallpaper and continued along the desk. It had a few dents, many scratches and some post-it notes on it. Robin didn’t want to snoop too much, but one of them definitely had some phone number scribbled on. She continued towards the bookshelf, which only really contained a couple books. Robin spotted some Asimov and Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, which frankly surprised her. Was Steve really into this, or did he only start picking this up after their adventures? There were action figures as well and some vinyls, all hidden in plain envelopes. Overall rating, for a rich kid, the room was quite bare and not too entertaining, but in a way, it kind of fit Steve. Of course, not in the way that he was bland and boring, but that it was just unassuming, plain and you had to discover the true nature of it?
Steve came back in, disturbing’s Robin inner monologue and setting down the pizza on the large tray he just brought.
’Tuck in,’ he said, gesturing to the food. Robin accepted the invitation and immediately grabbed a slice.
So did Steve. They both decided on standard pepperoni, but then each picked a side they thought went with the toppings the least.
‘So, kinda forgot to say it, but make yourself at home, you know, mi casa es se casa’, Steve said with his mouth still full.
‘Thanks,’ Robin smiled, fighting with a floppy cheese string between her mouth and the slice, ‘and it’s su casa’
‘Huh?’
‘Mi casa es su casa,’ Robin repeated. ‘My house is your house. What you said was My house is know house,’ she said, fully realising that Steve probably didn’t want to be corrected, but she couldn’t help herself.
‘Well, maybe I know my house very well’ Steve said, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head.
And they burst into laugh.
Later on, Steve took one of those records out of their plain sleeves and put on some quiet, nondescript music. Robin also openly admitted that she really enjoyed snooping around Steve’s room and they spent a couple hours looking at his books and school journals and even did a good ol’ photo album run-through. That was when Robin started getting a little fidgety and her laughs were getting fewer and farther between. She felt the anxiety creeping up her spine and took her sweatshirt off to relieve the hot flash.
‘Hey, Robin, what’s that?’ Steve asked suddenly, gesturing towards her arm.
‘Oh,’ Robin said, glancing at it, ‘Yep, that’s a bruise. And it’s not what you think. Mostly. This one was just me bumping into the door frame when I was trying to leave the house.. and then this one,‘ she drew the shoulder of her top down, ‘was when my mother actually threw a box at me… so there ya go.’
Steve was shocked for a couple seconds, mostly at the way how nonchalantly she said it, but at this point, he knew that Robin didn’t always show whether certain matters affected her.
‘Wait, are you for real?’ He asked, his mouth wide open.
‘Did- did that happen just now, when you got kicked out? How did-,’ he didn’t mean to pry, but Robin also felt like she might have owed him an explanation.
‘Okay, so I have been out to my mother for a while. I thought she was okay with it, but I guess she was just hoping that it was…a phase, or that I wouldn’t act on it.’ Robin started.
‘Alright,’ Steve said, nodding his head. Robin was just staring at the bookshelf for a second and collecting her thoughts.
‘And then one day, more specifically two days ago, she found the letters-', she paused, briefly panicking, but then realised that there was no harm in telling Steve.
‘They weren’t even addressed to anyone specifically, but they were still private. I poured all my wishes and my whole heart into them and- I guess it drove my mother over the edge.’ Robin said, her brows furrowed.
‘And,’ she continued, getting steadily more upset, ‘when I came back home, she confronted me. She wanted to know who were those letters to and how I never included her or Dad in my decisions anymore and…’ Robin raised her eyebrows slightly, staring right at a transition between the edge of the rug and the floor - ‘that she doesn’t want to have a dyke in the house and… then I simply just left and she threw a box of my stuff at me,’ Robin said, her index finger flicking the side of her thumbnail in an attempt to regulate herself or even better, to appear like it was a much less of a deal to her than it actually was.
‘Shit,’ was all Steve could muster. He was shocked. He’d never imagined that Robin would have a tough time at home. He wasn’t a person to assume that everybody had a great family life but - something about Robin struggling made him feel for her, but he also couldn’t help but feel the bile rising.
‘Yeah, shit,’ Robin sounded out, but she seemed to be lost in her thoughts.
Steve shook his head and pulled her into a hug. It wasn’t the most comfortable one since they were both crouching on the floor, but they still stayed in it for quite a while. Steve rubbed his thumb on Robin’s non-bruised shoulder and Robin finally felt secure enough to close her eyes and take a deep breath. Steve also expected a flood of tears, but was met with a smile when they pulled apart. Robin was sad, but her face was full of relief and gratitude.
After their little silent moment was over, they both non-verbally agreed on starting to get ready for sleep. Robin helped set up Steve’s temporary bed on the floor out of spare blankets, and cushions, first arguing that she’d be perfectly fine, but Steve telling her not to be ridiculous and ordering her to sleep in his bed. They changed the bedding as well, each got their turn for a few minutes in the bathroom, tucked into beds and turned off the lights.
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Robin just returned from a trip to the toilet. Steve was snoring quietly on the floor, the cushions scattered around. Robin stepped over him carefully and climbed back into bed. She crossed her legs, wiggling her toes and playing with the edge of the top sheet.
Finally, she sighed.
‘Hey, Steve?’ She whispered. No response.
‘Steve?’ She whispered again, making sure to draw out the vowels, ‘you asleep?'
Steve stirred and woke up with a groan.
‘What’s up?’
‘I feel bad that you’re on the floor,’ Robin said, drawing circles on the off-white duvet covers.
‘You can come over here, if you like,’ she said, moving over and freeing up a spot next to her.
‘You sure it’s okay?’ Steve asked. He just wanted her to feel comfortable tonight, no need for her to ask just to make him happy.
‘Yeah sure, come here,’ Robin said, giving him a little smile.
Steve grabbed two cushions and climbed into bed next to her. They shared a brief and awkward look.
‘Just a brief disclaimer that if you kick me in your sleep, I’ll kick you right back,’ Steve said with a very serious face.
Robin just briefly regretted inviting him in, shook her head and lied back down, stealing some of the duvet. “Dingus,” she said quietly, laughing to herself, closing her eyes again.
This was the most peaceful sleep she’d had in weeks.
N/A: also a special note of thanks to @shawly-not who helped me figure out the linguistics of the mi casa scene!
#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#fanfiction#steve#robin#robin buckley#steve harrington#platonic stobin#platonic with a capital p#stranger things fanfic#st fanfic#stranger things fic#why are there so many ways to tag a fanfic i'm sorry#st3#st4#st
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Bedhead
Pairing: Astarion/ g/n unnamed You
Tags: the fluffiest of fluff
Length: 1k words
Summary: You wke up in Astarion‘s tent for the first time.
A/N: I'm really starting to enjoy this whole Fanfiction writing thing! Thank you all for all the love on my last fanfic Magpie Stash 🥹 👉👈
Once again I have to thank @nyx-knox for the thoughtful beta-reading, helping me to smooth out the bumps in the story ✨
Shout out to @onlyancunin. You know why ❤️
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A single strip of sunlight falls directly onto your face, waking you gently. You don’t stir but slowly, you open your eyes. For a moment you’re disoriented. This isn’t your tent, is it? Slowly you look around. No, it’s not. And then you remember. It’s Astarion’s. And now that your senses catch up you feel him next to you, his arm laid sleepily across your stomach. You blink almost in disbelief at the feeling of him still beside you.
This is new. Yes, the two of you have spent many hours together, sneaking away for moments of passion both here and in your tent, out in nature, in a couple of caves and a temple even. But usually you went your separate ways afterwards. Occasionally, you had fallen asleep next to each other but you usually woke to find him gone or already awake and half-dressed, like that first morning after the Tiefling Party. Never had you woken up to feel him still slumbering beside you before. In his tent no less.
But then you remember. Arms pulling you closer as you were about to disentangle from him, a kiss on the delicate skin below your ear and a single whispered word. “Stay?”
So you stayed.
You turn your head to look at Astarion. But to say what you see is not what you expected would be an understatement.
Unable to stop it, the corners of your lips curl up in an adoring grin. Often have you seen Astarion meditate on this journey. Usually lying on his back, his head resting on a pillow, hair immaculate, the ruffles on his shirt laid out perfectly, face relaxed and his fingers doing that dainty fingertips-touching-thing you’ve come to adore.
But this was not that.
Beneath a mess of tangled sheets, Astarion is lying on his stomach, one leg stretched away from him and the other at a weird but apparently comfortable angle. One arm draped over you, the other one tucked under his head, barely resting on the edge of his pillow, which has somehow wrapped itself halfway around his head. He looks completely disheveled and … utterly adorable.
It’s the light chuckle you can’t suppress that seems to wake your lover. He opens his eyes groggily, their crimson color practically glowing in the strip of morning light that had also awoken you.
In the few moments before he fully wakes from his rather unusual meditation, you see it clearly on his face: a flicker of a pleasant surprise to find you still beside him. Followed by confusion. Then a moment of vulnerability. And finally you see his trademark cocky smile slipping onto his face.
“You’re up early, darling.“ he says in a casual yet sleepy tone. “I thought I’d all but worn you out last night.”
“Good morning to you too.“ you answer back, the smirk lingering on your face. Slowly, he pulls his arm off you and turns onto his back. His slender body stretches deliciously, and you roll onto your side to face him, unable to take your eyes off all of his beautifully exposed pale skin. When he eventually sits up, you can’t help but let out a giggle.
“What?”, he asks, looking down at you.
“I’m sorry - it’s just …” You reach out your hand towards that mop of stunning white curls that look like an exploded feather-pillow, but you pause, waiting the slightest of moments before actually touching him. You realize you’ve never really… touched his hair. Sure, you had weaved your fingers into it, tugged at it in moments of passion, but … fixing these beautiful curls seems almost too … familiar? You can’t help but worry it’ll bother him. “May I?” you ask cautiously.
Astarion leans his head towards your hand ever-so-slightly, signalling you permission to touch his hair. “I’ve just never seen you like this, that’s all.” His curls are incredibly soft, even in their disheveled state. Has anyone ever seen him like this, you wonder.
“Like what?” he asks in a relaxed tone but you detect the slightest hint of insecurity. Inspecting his beautiful face for a moment longer, you notice the red skin and creases the pillow has left around his cheekbone and the drop of dried blood in the left corner of his mouth from when he drank from you.
“… Tousled,” you finally answer, still unsure if the word captures how endearing he looks to you in this state.
He huffs a laugh. “Well, my dear, you too are looking rather unkempt.” he says as he plucks a tiny, honest-to-god pillow-feather from the tangled mess on your own head. The two of you look at each other - all messy hair, dried blood, squished faces and sticky skin.
You wonder what the pale Elf is thinking, what he is searching for while he is studying your eyes so intently. Because all you feel in this moment is fondness. Fondness for him, for waking up together … for whatever it is that exists between the two of you. And you think he maybe feels it, too. Because, to your delight, a smile spreads on his indented face, his fangs momentarily glinting in the morning light before the both of you let out a laugh. He is so beautiful to you in that moment. And your heart swells in a way it has not done before, to the point of aching within the confines of your chest.
It’s Astarion who leans in first to kiss you then, running his fingers over the bird’s nest that is your hair. “I do think you look quite delicious like this, you know?” he whispers against your lips before pushing you down, pinning you back onto the bedroll as his weight comfortably settles onto you. You feel him smile into your kiss and you know it’s sincere. “So let’s see if we can mess up this hair of yours a bit more, shall we?”
#astarion x tav#astarion fluff#astarion fanfic#ohoh herdarkestnightelegance wrote something#living the dream#astarion x reader#astarion fic#astarion fanfiction
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Clouded Sensations
A/N: my first Hazbin Hotel Fanfic! this is going to be multi chaptered! and definitely smut >:), but this part is more a small sneak peak into what I'm planning rather than an actual chapter. if you wanna request anything, go for it! Tags are going to get added progressively!
Pairings: Valentino x Fem!Reader
Legend: ❲☆❳ - flashback, 『♡』 = change of scenes
Warnings/Promises: Valentino, Manipulation, Drugs (his smoke/saliva), flirting, alcohol, smoking
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
Minors DNI 🚨🚔
Valentino is sitting comfortably on the leather seat in the booth of one of his many clubs throughout Hell. beside him are two demons, employees of his, Dia and Summer. the two girls sit on the pimps lap as he takes a long drap of his cigarette and blows out it's red smoke. the other two Vee's are sitting in the same booth, but don't pay very much attention.
You are at the bar, just another demon trying to make a living, without being put too much into the spotlight. you never wanted to be noticed by the Vee's, at least not more than necessary. yeah - just trying to survive. from time to time, you get out from the bar to bring out drinks to guests, giving them a friendly smile if they give you a tip.
as you're ordered to bring another round of drinks to the Vee's booth, you can't shake the feeling of being watched. you pick up the tray of glasses before you make your way over, already so self-conscious about yourself that you walk very stiff. you have never been the type of demon for revealing clothes, not even as you were alive. everything you own covered you good, and you always wear black, helping you blend in better - or so you thought.
as you put the glasses down, Vox regards you with a glance, and Velvette ignores you completely. relieved, you turn to leave, but then you notice the Moth Demons grin. it looks almost predatory.
you turn to leave, but your wrist is quickly grabbed by one of his hands, his skin is cool to the touch. he nearly purrs as he begins speaking. "Why don't you stay and join us, Cariño?"
you feel your face heat up, and you try to keep your voice from shaking as you answer the Overlord.
"I'm sorry, Sir, but I have work to do. and besides, I'm not very fond of shar-.." your voice breaks, and you have to clear your throat before finishing your sentence, "... sharing."
you free your wrist from his grip, and hastily hurry away, into the safety of the bar. Fuck! you denied THE Valentino! for as much as you knew about him, he killed sinners for less! before panic could settle in, you take a deep breath and continue your work, trying to avoid any gazes towards the booth.
but Valentino wasn't going to give up this easily. he watches you from across the room, his eyes tracing your every movement. after a while, he stands up and with a flick of one of his wrists, gestures the two female demons to leave. he then saunters over to the bar, leaning against it casually. "Whats your poison?", he asks with a charming grin, letting his eyes roam over the array of bottles behind the counter.
as you look up from the glass you were cleaning, you freeze for a moment. no way he came here for you, right? ... Right??? you keep yourself calm and pretend not to give a single care in the world as you lower your gaze back to the glass, keeping your movements steady and casual, your voice calm as you respond.
"I'm a lightweight. a few glasses of a good Vodka Cola mix, and I'm done for. although," you tilt your head, lost in thought for a moment, your heart pounding against your chest in both fear and unwanted desire, "I've never had any hangovers. not even as I was alive. and I never have memory loss either. it's kinda cool." oh God, you have to stop telling so many details!! you're practically serving him your weaknesses on a silver platter!
The Moth Demon regards you a toothy smirk, his gold tooth reflecting the light off of it. "you have good taste, Cariño. I'll invite you on a couple of glasses.~", his voice is practically dripping with venomous honey.
you raise an eyebrow at him, but begin preparing two glasses with the mix. "you know, I'm still working my shift, so I'm not too keen on getting drunk just now." - "I know Conchita, don't worry your pretty little head about it.~" he leans forward on his elbows, his lower pair of arms resting on his hips as he grabs the glass you just finished pouring. the Overlord downs it in one gulp, before setting the glass down. as he notices your stare, he licks his lips seductively.
wait, is Valentino flirting with you?? Holy fuck. this is suuuuch a dangerous game you're playing. if you make a mistake, you're as good as dead. but at this point, you can't just stop. rather drunk at work than dead, right?...
"Right.", you say out loud, raising your own glass to your lips. you notice how his gaze lingers on you, he practically undresses you with his eyes alone. you catch yourself staring at his eyes with half lidded eyes, slowly downing your own glasses contents. May Lucifer help you, you're a lost cause...
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this snipped, leave a comment if you wanna be added to the taglist, and I'll add you right away!~ and hey, if you got any suggestions/ideas, please do tell! I'm all ears! :)
─❲♡❳▷Hazbin Masterlist
─❲♡❳▷Main List
#Clouded Sensations#valentino x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#valentino#valentino x you#hazbin valentino#hazbin hotel valentino#hazbin vees#valentino x y/n#hazbin x reader#hazbin x you#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin#the vees#reader insert#fanfiction#hazbin hotel fanfiction#reader#x you#you insert#x reader#fanfic
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I've been on a little bit of a first kick recently - so here's a first meeting of reader and him based on this piece of the dolls au by @ovegakart (this amazing comic piece in particular)
and on the topic of tagging people I've got some new friends on discord who have a love of first so consider this a gift <3
@fanfic-fairy-fountain
@dreaming-of-lu
@angry-trashcan
@neverchecking
<333 enjoy!
[masterlist]
“Hello..? Time… Sky… Link? Is anyone there?”
As if being forced into Hyrule wasn’t bad enough when I was with the chain, now that cursed shadow decides to push it even further by separating me from them? Why not just kill me outright… Is it to try to give the heroes hope? Wouldn’t it be worse for them for it to kill me outright than string them along with false hope?
“IS ANYONE HERE? HELLO??”
Where even am I? It looks like… Oh. Alone in catacombs, yeah if there’s anywhere to be killed by a malicious shadowy entity it would be in catacombs. Are there going to be redeads here? If the rest of the monsters are anything to go off of it’s going to be much worse dealing with them now.
They can’t handle sunlight though, can they?
Then that means the pile of rubble in the centre here should be the safest place for me to think through the best way to handle all of this. If the shadow really wants to get to me then of course that won’t stop it but I have to try something right?
Is sitting on top of what looks like a grave a little disrespectful? Yes. Do I have many options at the minute? No.
“-Wait-!”
WHY IS THE GRAVE SLIDING OPEN - WHAT WAS THAT!? WHY DOES IT SOUND LIKE SOMEONE IS YELLING??
“What… happened? Where is this place?”
I think without a doubt the sound I’ve just made is the most blood-curdling scream I’ve ever let out and - WHY IS HE COVERING MY MOUTH!?
“I’m sorry I know you’re confus- ACK.”
Was biting him the right option? Probably not! But it’s the only thing I could think of to do seeing as well, I'm not exactly calm at this moment in time. Despite the fact that this man has known me for, what, the span of less than a minute, he seems to have at the very least noticed my panic. Backing off like you would with a scared animal - do I really look that petrified? It’s taking everything in me now to not give into my racing heart.
“I’m sorry, I must’ve overstepped your boundaries. But please can you not be so loud?”
“....”
“... yeah. Yeah I can be a bit quieter”
“So you uhhh-”
Where do I even start - this man just - He just crawled out of a grave. What do you even respond to that with???
“...You come round here often?”
[name]. [name] what the heck was that. That's how you flirt with someone at a bar not speak to a living corpse.
“No, I don’t really?”
“Yeah, I figured. I -”
“Are you alright?”
“Look I’m just a bit overwhelmed, I was separated from my group and dropped here then you- You crawled out of a grave and now I’m just?? I’m just stressed and this is only things that have happened today. Now I know that you’re probably more stressed for obvious reasons, but I’m just - I’m sorry for screaming.”
He took a step closer to me at that, not trying to be intimidating, but more cautious. Asking for permission to touch me with an invitingly open outstretched arm, one that seemed to promise some sort of salvation from all the stress I’ve been feeling. One that I was embarrassingly quick to accept.
His touch - His hold, is so warm for someone who should really be so cold, there’s definite comfort in feeling his heart beating as well something that proves he’s alive.
It didn’t last for long though, as he pulled himself away, reluctantly if I were being bold in how I was to describe it. His fingers lingered, resting on my arm in such a teasingly wanting way. He’s definitely a link thats for sure, that helps me to be more comfortable around him than I would have been with anyone else.
He looks like he’s about to start crying.
I - oh god I’m the first person he’s seen since he came back to life.
“Are you alright link?”
Was that the wrong thing to say? He hasn’t introduced himself to me, I shouldn’t have said that. It seems like now it’s his turn to look confused - more so than he already was.
“you how do you know my name?”
“I just guessed, the group I was with before they - well they all looked similar and went by the same name ‘link’ so I just assumed it was the same with you. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”
“No it doesn’t.”
Why is he reaching for my face? He’s got such a soft look on his face, do I remind him of someone? He’s been dead so it could be possible I guess, but it feels like there’s more to how he said it than just something that simple.
“Oh my dearest love...”
His hands are so soft… it’s hard not to just lean into his touch and stay there, but there are more important things to be dealing with right now. As much as I’d prefer to not have these questions answered.
“What do you mean by that link? I don’t - I don’t think I’ve met you before.”
He’s so warm, I hate the fact that he’s most likely going to stop holding me when he realises I’m not the person he’s really ever going to want in a relationship.
“You haven’t but, I can already tell that you’ll be my beloved soon enough.”
“I’m sorry? We’ve only just met how can you tell s- ACK”
This has to just be a link thing. What is it that makes them fall so quickly? But to hold someone so tightly when you've only just met them - when you’ve only just come back from death? That doesn’t seem like a healthy thing for him, not in the slightest.
Is my shoulder wet?
Why would it be wet - he was tearing up earlier and - no there it is he’s sniffling as if he’s trying his hardest not to cry. Even if he’s mildly delusional how cruel would you have to be to not help someone go through something as tough as this clearly is.
It’s not hard to gently rub his back as he cries onto me, it’s not hard to hum to him as he clutches me like a lifeline, it’s not hard to be here for him when I have to do so little for him.
“Link? Would you like to talk about it? I don’t know you but - but I’ll be here to listen to you.”
“Thank you. It’s simply that I - I don’t know why or how I got here, It’s simply that I woke up in there after everything then I saw you -”
“[name]”
“[name] and well you know what has happened since. I have to thank you for being here though, there’s something about you, some kind of energy that just feels like a part of myself that I lost. You feel like home to me [name]”
With that last sentence, he burrows his head even further into my neck seeking what I can only guess is comfort. He’s probably just desperate for another person's touch right now, rather than him having fallen in love with me from the briefest interaction that didn’t even go that well.
There’s no harm in waiting here with him for a moment though.
What could go wrong in this amount of time?
#linked universe x reader#yandere linked universe x reader#yandere linked universe#link x reader#lu first x reader#lu first#lu x reader#moss✦writes
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I'm back
And I'm back with my oneshot with Michael Gavey. He fucking came back from the dead. Some can call it resurrection.
I needed these 24 hours just for myself to think about why I was writing at all and why I was doing it.
To talk about it with my husband who, as always, knowing me inside out, said that I didn't deserve to have my work and commitment here wasted by people who don't have the courage to write to me under their own nickname.
Just to be clear - it doesn't matter when or if any of you would read my oneshot. When, why or if you will do it is neither something to feel guilty nor proud of, like reading or not anything I wrote or will write.
I remind you that's my space, not yours. Anon asks stays off, because I know who you really are.
Cowards.
From now on, I will be much stricter about what other people "opinion" should and should not be.
I will block anyone, anons, writers or readers, who cannot watch their words - even if it's on your blogs, in your asks, comments, reblogs or statements - I don't want to see any ironic, hurtful bullshit on my wall anymore.
I will block them, but I will never nag them. I just don't need them in my life, in my space. Learn from me, anon haters. I hope me coming back is your stick in the ass and not in the pleasurable way.
I don't care if you think I'm a sweet and innocent author with no flaws - I'm not. I've never been. I don't care about maintaining this image either.
Yes, I can't stand anons who send me and other authors baseless criticism. They were and will remain my enemies. I will never be nice to them, because by hiding they lose the last of my respect.
However, I have never been and will never be unpleasant to people who ask me thoughtful questions with the respect that one person can and should expect from another. Usually it's not about the question itself, but about how it was asked.
Writing anonymously to others that you wish their pets to die, that it's good that they lost their child, or to me that I don't really love my husband and I'm cheating on him because I write fanfics is not the smartest idea.
You are just sad, jealous idiots.
Now.
A few of people here are trying to keep this sticky tape glued fandom from falling apart and I sincerely admire them: @ewanmitchellcrumbs @targaryenrealnessdarling @oneeyedvisenya @theoneeyedprince @valeskafics @black-dread
This fandom doesn't deserve you, but there you are.
+ I wanted to say 'thank you' to all of the writers who just reached me to say that they are sorry, to say that I have a right to write whatever I want. Do what I want without being judged.
Finally, I cannot help but mention the wave of anonymous and non-anonymous messages from my fans, to which I apologize for not responding. I've read them all.
Many of you came out of the shadows and wrote to me for the first time, showing me how much my stories mean to you. Thank you for all the memes, photos, drawings and words of comfort, very long and very short messages.
If it weren't for you, if it weren't for my husband who told me that I needed a break - not to destroy everything I created, I would have deleted this account a few days ago. He said that I should care more about my own mental comfort, which I intend to do.
I deleted my Discord account to withdraw from the fandom a bit and to put what happened behind me. I don't have good emotions right now that I could share with you in these groups, which you deserve. I don't want to be a ghost account there.
If you want to talk to me or explain something, you can reach me in private messages.
So. Karawana jedzie dalej, as we say in Poland. Those who want to be tagged, please let me know here or privately.
I don't know when I will publish my other works, but I will.
Welcome back.
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https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/747721307928559616/re-747330342209404928-every-time-a-discussion?source=share
I wouldn't even make this purely about oversensitivity - I've seen fic writers refuse to tag, say, breakup because they think it would be a Good Experience (tm) for fans of the ship in question to read it (because they often think it's Problematic in some brain-wormed way), or they just think their writing is so good or so "socially important" that people who would normally avoid this commonly tagged trope should have to experience it anyway, "it's good for you" etc. and then melt down when people have the predictable reaction that something that seemed to be billed as a fluffy romance was anything but, and of course, these people's social statements are never as deep and sophisticated as they think they are. These people are weirdly, often very outspoken about the need for Content Warnings in basically any other context.
Obviously, I don't want to say that anything other than major archive warnings are a requirement to tag (and I mean, even those aren't required, you can use CNTW), or that you're required to indicate a breakup will happen if it's a big spoiler or something.... but this wasn't just that, it was deliberately false advertising the fic as something it wasn't bc they thought it would be morally edifying or something for people who dislike that trope to read it.
I like fanfiction and I'm not going to say it can never be effectively used to convey Important Ideas (tm) .... but I do think if you are going to take this attitude and especially if you're over the age of 15 or so, and especially if you're then going to have a meltdown and accuse people of "harassment" for disagreeing with you when the readers are predictably not happy, you need to consider that perhaps fanfiction is not the medium for you. Maybe write original fiction instead.
I don't know why it's so hard for some to understand that people tend to be more allowing for a story not being as happy or fluffy as they expected when the story isn't about characters they're already attached to, especially when they're in a space that's often about seeking out specific outcomes that the original work didn't give them. Like I'm sorry there's often a double standard between fanfic and original fic in this way, but it exists for a way.
But also, none of these fanfic writers I've seen do this (and this sounds niche I know but I've seen it several times in different fandom) ever actually have Takes that are remotely original or startling or groundbreaking, lol, such that it's worth misleading people because they "need to hear." It's always like.... cool, I saw this take for the first time on a Tumblr post in 2017/from someone in my women's studies class in 2010, and I thought it was a bad shallow take then and still do.
Interestingly, the people who genuinely have really interesting and unusual and thought-provoking takes that they use fanfic to express feel no need to tag it inaccurately, feel no desire to force it on people who don't want to read it. Wonder why.
--
Hah. I too have seen this silly behavior many times.
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I just read this fanfic of yours and my heart hurts😭
https://www.tumblr.com/nightghoul381/724578415945089024/hello-i-hope-you-are-doing-well-can-i-please?source=share
Is there a possibility you could make a part 2 where they notice what they did wrong except for victor since he kind of comforted them
I'm more than happy to show their softer sweet side!! (I let Victor have another turn because knowing him, the gentleness at the end of the last one would not be enough of an apology/comfort)
You can read the original post here
Prompt: Comforting words to Kate
Genre: Fluff
Harrison:
The downcast expression on Kate’s face these past few days had eaten away at him and he knew that if he saw her again, looking at him from under those tear-soaked lashes, he’d be a goner.
He had just been trying to protect her. She didn’t belong here, among all of these cursed men. She just needed to keep her head down and get through the month and she’d be granted the freedom denied to so many others who had discovered Crown’s secret.
There were just a couple of weeks left. Just a couple of weeks and she could be free to move on. But now he felt the anxiety clawing at his chest as she met his gaze briefly in the hall that night.
His mind had gone blank… How was he supposed to ignore her when she looked so absolutely crest-fallen. Before he had even realized what he was doing, he had reached out and grabbed her hand, prompting her to turn and look at him in confusion.
“I’m…sorry.”
Kate’s eyes flashed in disbelief. Was he telling the truth? Was he lying? Kate wasn’t sure but she nodded anyway, withdrawing her hand and sighing.
“I forgive you.”
The statement is short and brief, but Harrison feels so much relief as she says them. She forgives him. She truly forgives him. But the look on her face is still reserved and unsure, can she really trust him?
Harrison runs his hand over the back of his neck and lets out a heavy sigh.
“Can we start over? I shouldn’t have treated you the way I have… I just… I don’t want you to end up getting attached to this place, to Crown. Nothing good will come of it. But I can’t stand seeing you like that, so… Hi, I’m Harrison Gray.”
Jude:
The criminals holed up in this abandoned factory were involved in human trafficking. Kate had no business tagging along. It was like throwing a piece of meat in front of a pack of starving wolves, of course they’re gonna try and snap her up.
Did she not see the damn guys following behind them? It’s like she was asking to get grabbed. She was too naïve for this mission, hell she was too naïve to be involved with Crown at all. But she’s here and Jude had no choice but to keep her safe. She was a walking disaster, but it’s not like he was about to let her just serve herself on a silver platter to these bastards.
“Ya good?” Jude sighed, drawing to a stop and glancing over his shoulder.
“Why do you care?” Kate snapped, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him.
“D’ya know why we’re here?” Jude huffed.
“I’m here to observe how you and the others handle the mission and report back to Victor.”
“The mission, princess, is to flush out the human trafficking ring that’s been hiding out here. A damn poor choice for a naïve child like you to be thrown on. Yer like an easy meal for these guys, that’s why ya gotta keep yer mouth shut. I ain’t lookin’ to let you get yourself kidnapped and sold off.”
Kate’s eyes widened in shock. Of course, she hadn’t bothered to actually figure out what she was getting herself into… hopefully she’d be more careful next time.
Victor:
“Darling Kate, I wanted to address my behavior from earlier tonight. Would you have some time to talk?”
Victor stood outside her door, listening intently for any sign that she would be coming to the door. The clacking of the typewriter keys stops suddenly and the sound of the metal doorknob turning gave Victor a rush of relief.
“Victor… um, there’s really no need. You told my why you were upset and you had every right to. I was being foolish and should have known better,” Kate muttered, her head dropping in shame.
A jovial chuckle rumbles in Victor’s chest and Kate lifts her head slightly to see if she is actually hearing correctly.
“My dear girl, I came to apologize, not to come up with excuses for my behavior. The way I reacted was unacceptable and certainly would have been no help in comforting you after such an experience. I should have tempered my own emotions before speaking to you, I am relieved you’re alright, truly.”
Victor looked down at Kate with a gentle smile and her eyes softened, her own lips twitching upward slightly.
“Thank you, Victor. I appreciate you coming all this way to apologize. I, um…” Kate awkwardly wraps her arms around him in a brief hug.
“I really am thankful to you,” she sighs, “and I’m sorry myself for acting so rashly after you had already spoken to me about the potential dangers.”
Victor lifted one of his hands and patted her on the top of her head, his normal bright grin on his face.
“I believe we’ve both learned from this experience, so there’s nothing to apologize for. Now then, I have a platter of fresh croissants in the kitchen if you’d care to join me for some?”
William:
“Kate.”
William had pulled Kate into a dark alleyway while they were out on a mission. His vivid red eyes searched her face; a face devoid of emotion.
“What do you need William,” Kate sighed, her expression never changing. William didn’t realize at first just how painful it would be to not see how her eyes would light up when she saw him, how her face would grow red when he was in close proximity.
“I feel like we should discuss what happened the other evening,” William murmured, trying to close the distance between them only for Kate to take an equal step backward.
“What is there to discuss. You’ve made it perfectly clear that I mean nothing to you. I don’t need you to try to patch things up, there’s nothing to patch.” Kate’s voice was low, monotone, and William’s mouth grew dry at the finality of her words.
“I… I spoke out of line that night, Kate,” William whispered.
“I thought I could protect you if I denied my own desires and pushed you away, but I’ve only hurt you far more than I ever imagined. Kate, I am deeply sorry for how I’ve hurt you. I was a fool to think that pushing you away would lead to anything but heartbreak for the both of us.”
Kate’s face finally showed the slightest change in expression, a faint confusion creasing her brow and her eyes narrowing slightly.
“…Both of us?” she finally asked, her voice hinting at the way her mind had begun to pull back the lid she’d put on her emotions.
“Kate. If you believe anything I say, believe this. I too have fallen completely in love with you. I want nothing more than to take you can keep you, to have you hold me in your arms and you in mine. I just fear that in then end it will end up hurting you far more than I can take. But I cannot deprive you of your truest desires, nor myself of mine, even if in the end it leads to nothing but pain.”
William took another step forward, his hands reaching out to grab Kate’s, who willingly let him take them,
“Would you grant me my desire, and allow me to show you the love I feel. I am just as much yours as you said you were mine. My heart belongs to you, Kate.”
Kate’s eyes began to water, “this isn’t a dream?” she whispered, her grip tightening.
William smiled gently, closing the last bit of distance.
“Not a dream, little robin. If you still want me, I’m yours.”
Taglist: @judejazza @aquagirl1978, @themiscarnival @abundance-pathchooser @xbalayage @maries-gallery @randonauticrap
also tagging @lemeowade since you requested the original fic ^w^
#ikemen villains#ikevil#ikemen villains jude#ikemen villains william#ikemen villains harrison#ikemen villains victor#ikevil william#ikevil harrison#ikevil jude#ikevil victor#ikemen villains fanfiction
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Hello Berry! I just wanted to slide a request your way cause I'm not gonna lie the fanfic you wrote with vash where the reader has stretchmarks almost had me in tears cause I'm so self-conscious about mine and it just made me so happy to read it.
So, I was wondering if I could have a fanfic with that same premise with nai? 🥺
I want all the plant boys!
🍰Anon (if it's okay to be called that)
Stretch Marks (Knives Version)
Summary: Knives find himself enamored with a little human quirk he was previously in the dark about.
Authors Note: Hello!! I'm so glad my writing was able to help you! That's really all I've wanted from my writing, to have people read it and feel better about themselves and/or just enjoy it in any way! I hope you enjoy this one just as much as my Vash one! (Also, you're totally welcome to be the 🍰 Anon) And, once again, here's your tag @blackkiwi :) hope you all love it !
Warnings: Mild nudity, sexual themes, self-hate
His fascination with the human boggled everyone, even his great mind was submerged deep in confusion; so much, in fact, that at first he was completely convinced they were an independent like him. There was no possible way a human could garner his attention (and later on, his affection) so, therefore, the only logical solution to this little puzzle was that she was, in fact, not human. Every moment—well, every moment he wasn’t brooding over the melancholic mood he had decided to live within—was spent thinking about her. She’s strange, kind, and unbearably interesting. It took a month or so for him to finally come to the conclusion—and accept said conclusion—that she was human, nothing more nothing less. Of course that realization was detrimental in so many different ways it would take a hundred years to write about the emotional turmoil and confliction he felt; but, on days like this, he supposed his feelings weren’t all that bad.
“Are you going to drink it?” She sipped on her tea and pointed at the steaming cup (it was ceramic and a painfully awkward blue that clashed with the entirety of her kitchen, but she said she bought it because “it reminded me of you”. Despite his protests, and the want for a different, less ugly cup, she had assigned him to the blue cup; and only the blue cup).
He looked at the murky liquid, “no.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want it.”
“So you just came all this way to stare at me?”
He huffed and took the cup, looking around at the quaint little house he had somehow found himself in. “I was in town. That’s all.” He really shouldn’t be here, more pressing matters nipping at the base of his heels, clawing at his back like starved, abused dogs. The world was begging him to leave, to complete his mission and his faith, but for the first time in a long time, he ignored it.
He took a small sip.
She smiled, “Oh yeah, right. Just in town, decided to stop by. That’s the story you’re going with?”
“Because it’s the truth.”
“You’re a terrible liar, Nai.”
He didn’t know if he was annoyed she had the audacity to use a nickname, or excited at the prospect that she loved him enough to do so. “You’re the only one who’s ever said such a thing to me.”
“That’s because everyone else is too scared. You know, you’re a little bit intimidating.”
He couldn’t stop the indignant noise that left his throat, “a little?”
She set her cup down and pinched two fingers together, “just a tad.”
“A tad,” he deadpanned.
“Sorry,” she grinned, “a smidge.”
He took another sip of his drink and ignored her. Bastardly human, he cursed in his head. If it had been anyone else, especially a human, that dared to tease him like that, they’d be dead before they knew it; sliced and diced into neat little squares, perfect enough for a tea party snack. Not that he ever had tea parties, or ate people, but the mental image alone was enough to ward off the majority of pests.
She grabbed her cup and walked over to the sink, rinsing it off before putting it away. She yawned and raised her arms, “it’s only seven o’clock but I feel exhausted.”
Nai looked up at her, swirling the cup in his hands idly. The tea wasn’t the best, nor was it something particularly homey or nostalgic enough to make him drink more, but she had poured her time and heart into creating this so, he supposed, drinking it was the least he could do. He took another sip before his eyes settled on her again, most of her body covered by the cup from his perspective.
She groaned, “I have to go to the market today. I’m running low on. . . well, everything. Or, oh no. It’s too late for that I guess. Tomorrow would be a good enough day to go.”
He finished the drink and set the cup to the set (still mildly upset at how ugly it was—the colors really clashed with the rest of the house. If it was his choice, he would’ve gotten rid of the mug ages ago and replaced it with something that matched his taste, or, at the very least, matched the aesthetic of the house). “You do tend to procrastinate.”
“Oh shut up,” she rolled her shoulders back, her shirt riding up ever so slightly. “Give me your cup.” She beckoned him with a wave of her hand.
He wordlessly handed it to her.
She washed it, dried it with an old rag, and slid it in the cupboard next to her favorite mug. “Next time you get to do the dishes.”
He opened his mouth to respond, an insult whipping on the tip of his tongue, but he caught the sight of her bare skin. It looked softer than he had imagined, smooth and—he tilted his head, mind momentarily reeling at what he saw. Little markings, he blinked, like me. He didn’t know how or why, but his chest constricted and the only thing he could feel was the intense blazing emotion of curiosity and. . . something he couldn’t identify.
She has markings.
Like me?
Like me.
He stepped forward and grabbed the hem of her shirt, yanking it up to her chest. The fabric gave way easily enough, revealing what had interested him so. Swirls and lines decorated her belly, wrapping into each other like the galaxies he had seen oh so long ago. The only thing he could think of was how absolutely divine it looked. His view though, his beautifully artistic view, was interrupted with a shove and a loud gasp.
“Wha–what was that?!” she grabbed her shirt and pulled it down, the fabric taunt in her grip, “usually you ask before you go taking people’s shirts off!”
He was focused on her now covered stomach, mind short-circuiting. “Show me again.” The sight was burned into the forefront of his mind, heart giddy with the possibilities. Maybe she was a plant, an independent. Or even, partially so—he’d take that, he’d take anything as long as she wasn’t human. . . would he? Suddenly his excitement turned into a mix of anticipation and anxiety. The thought of rejecting her for being something different from him, it made him sick for a moment. He may be a God, something divinity has blessed, but he was undoubtedly seduced by mortal wiles. Though, and he shoved this thought to the back of his mind, I don’t really mind.
She shook her head, “no–wait, what am I even showing?”
“Those patterns,” he raised his head up, watching her intently, “I want to see them again.”
“Patterns?” she thought for a moment, before a strike of realization hit her face, “my stretch marks?” Her grip loosened every so slightly, before quickly regaining her previous strength.
“Whatever they are,” he raised his hand before pausing and bringing it back. I ask before I take her shirt off. “They’re like mine.” To drive his point home—and, really, looking back he doesn’t know why he gave her the courtesy of understanding his intentions, or his needs, but in the moment it felt right—he let his markings quickly show on the surface of his skin, a low bleeding blue edging out into the country house.
She blinked and whispered, a child-like awe on her face. “can–can I touch them?”
She had known he was a plant since the day they met. He, stealing a dependent from a town, and her watching him with mild confusion and amazement. But she hadn’t seen this side of him—the destruction, hate, and blood, yes. But the somber blue and quiet hums of his soul? No. He hadn’t shown anyone that in a long, long time.
“I suppose,” he looked down at her, “as long as I can touch yours.” The deal was fair enough, he tried to argue in his mind, shoving away the anxieties and sickness at the thought of being touched. It’s all in the pursuit of his curiosity.
She puffed out her cheeks, hesitation clear in her eyes, “fine, but you can’t say anything mean about them okay?”
“Why would I be mean?”
“You’re always mean.”
She reached out and touched his face gently, as if she was afraid he would disappear into the sand dunes that surrounded her home. She traced one line from the right side of his jaw to his nose, before trailing her fingers to his exposed neck. “You’re so pretty,” she mumbled. The skin under her became heated, flushed.
Whether it was a conscious decision or not, he leaned into her touch, the soft feeling of her fingers making his heart stutter. Several markings glowed brighter before he was able to shut them down, pushing his excitement—or, no, he wasn’t excited; he was disgusted that a human was touching him, that’s what it was (oh, what a terrible liar he is). Despite his momentary panic, he let her explore his face and neck, hoping the blue of his markings drowned out the red of his embarrassment. He didn’t have a real reason for why he was letting her do this to him, he should’ve stopped her a while ago, but it felt. . . nice. This was something he had’t experiences in years, a feeling so foreign he had nearly forgotten it.
She pulled back, not missing the way he subtly leaned forward to feel her for a moment longer. “Why do you even want to see my stretch marks?” she whispered, fingers itching to touch him again.
“Because they’re like mine,” he matched her tone, towering over her with no malice or hate, but silent admiration. The thought of her—her touch, her looks, her voice, by God, all of her, it entrapped him in a spell of nothing sort of Love. That's what it was, this feeling. Love. He could feel the anxiety in the back of his throat, the crumbling of his beliefs and ideologies, but those were problems for another day, right now? He was busy falling deeper into this sweet little hole he had dug.
“No they’re not,” she laughed slightly, sadly, “yours are way cooler.”
He tugged at the hem of her shirt, this time asking, “can I?”
She sighed and let her head fall into his chest, “a promise is a promise.”
He resisted the urge to tell her that she needn’t keep her word if it caused her pain, that he would rather she feel happy than obligated. He didn’t though, the well of his curiosity ever growing. “You’re human,” he mumbled, less than gently tugging the shirt off her, “and yet your markings are so similar. . . so beautiful?”
“They’re not markings, well, not in the way you’re thinking of.”
The low light of the setting sun barely reached the windows, slowly plunging them into darkness. Without thinking he grabbed her hips and hoisted her up, momentarily enjoying the sounds of surprise she made as he put her down on the counter. His hands resumed his search, trailing the pads of his fingers across her belly in a loving motion that he had never known he was capable of. “What are they then?”
“Stretch marks.”
He huffed, “explain.”
“They’re like little scars that appear when our skin stretches too fast. I think it can happen when our skin shrinks too? I don’t really know the specifics. I just know they’re annoying and ugly.”
He paused, bringings his hands up to grip her chin, “what?’
She blinked at him owlishly, “what. . .?”
“Are you calling me ugly?”
“Wha–” she let out a laugh, “when did I say that?!”
He ignored the happiness that stabbed his heart when she laughed. “I said our markings are the same, if you say yours are ugly, you are calling mine that as well.”
She thought for a moment, “I guess that makes sense, but you’re forgetting one thing.” She raised a finger and tilted her head, a little grin on her face—the expression did nothing to hide her fear and anxiety.
“What may that be?” he said with a hint of amusement, fingers still holding her jaw.
“You are handsome, I am not. So the markings look different between us. I’m not calling you ugly, don’t worry. You’re actually quite attractive.”
He frowned and leaned forward, forcing her to place her hands behind her on the counter in order not to fall. “You’re right. You’re not handsome.”
She rolled her eyes, “so romantic.”
“You’re stunning,” he savored the squeak of embarrassment that left her mouth, a knowing smirk on his face. I want to hear more, he thought as he trailed down to her stomach, kissing each mark on her belly, “beautiful,” he muttered. “Your loveliness cannot be described.” He reached the band of her pants, hooking a finger around it before he remembered his manners. “Can I?” He looked up at her, grin still present and eyes twinkling with something she couldn’t describe.
“Y–yeah,” she whispered.
He didn’t go any further, tilting his head with a waiting expression.
“What?” she tried to hold his eye contact but it became too intense, and she looked away, chest starting to rise and fall rapidly. What have I gotten myself into?
“Look at me,” he commanded, pleased when she obeyed without a second to spare. He should talk to her like that more often, maybe indulge in her flesh if she listened so deliciously like that. “I heeded your words, didn’t I? You said I have to ask before I do things like this, yes?”
She nodded.
“Say you’re proud then.”
“I’m proud,” she stumbled out, all hints of her teasing nature drowned out by her bewilderment (and pure, unrestrained excitement).
He pulled back, trapping her in between his arms, “that’s boring,” he muttered, “come up with some creative praise. I’ve been so nice to you, haven’t I? Isn’t it only fair?” He whispered in her ear, laughing at the shiver that racked her body. With a hum he trailed back down her body, saving his softer affections for her stomach, her marks.
He reached her pants again in no time, looking at her expectedly.
“You’re beautiful,” she blurted out.
“Not good enough.”
“Divine,” she uttered.
“Think, Darling, or else I’m going to stop right here.” He played with the edge of her pants, thumbing the material as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. God, how he loved to play with her.
“Y-you’re,” she tossed her head back and groaned, mind flying as she tried to think of a compliment. After a moment she wrapped her legs around him, making him give her a questioning hum, and grabbed his face. “You’re my God,” she whispered, “mine alone. You’re wonderful and strong, a holy being that I am blessed to have around me.”
He could’ve sworn he died at that moment—and if he had, he would’ve gone happily.
She buried her face in his neck, practically whining with embarrassment. “I can’t believe you made me say that.”
He wrapped an arm around her, pressing her into the counter, collecting himself before he spoke, “that was good. I knew you’d learn eventually.” With a deep, burning red, he hid his face in her stomach, going back to tracing her stretch marks. Faint blue markings glided up his neck, curling around the flesh of his face—he didn’t bother to stop it this time. With a single motion he helped her rid herself of her pants, letting out a deep sigh when he saw the rest of her markings.
“You didn’t say you had more.”
“Well,” she finally gained her confidence back, letting out a huff, “you never asked.”
He, with the same awe and amazement as earlier, observed her thighs as if he was a starved man, denied of any mortal pleasures (though, he supposed he had never done anything like this before). “I want to see all of them,” he tugged at her underwear, “they’re too beautiful to hide.” If it was up to him, he'd have her naked in his presence all the time, solely for observing how heavenly she looked.
She grabbed his hand and snapped it away, “you didn’t ask that time.”
He tilted his head and smiled wickedly, “I guess I didn’t hmm? Where are my manners? Here, can I see all of you? Bare and unobstructed?”
She gripped his hands and turned her head away, “you’re a bastard.”
“That’s not a compliment,” he whispered.
“You’re my bastard.”
He laughed, a sound she cherished deeply, “that doesn’t count.”
#this is the first time I've written for his chr#so I hope i was able to do him justice#trigun#trigun stampede#trigun anime#trigun manga#Knives x reader#Knives x you#Knives x y/n#Knives#Nai x you#Nai x reader#Nai x y/n#Knives trigun#trigun Knives#trigun x reader#trigun x you#trigun x y/n#trigun fanfiction#trigun fics#trigun fic
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I know it's rare for ANY translation to do so, especially English to/from Japanese since the languages are so dissimilar, but can you think of any time where a translation added to a scene, or made it better in your opinion?
Oh plenty of times! There’s even one in this chapter. I try to call them out when I notice them because I appreciate them myself. I don’t have a specific tag for them, though.
The thing is…
Sorry, Anon. You accidentally triggered one of my rants. If you just wanted an answer it's up there ⬆️
Good translations are not rare. Good translations aren’t even rare in manga anymore. The reason a lot of people think of all translations as bad is because people used to not take translations of manga seriously. They wouldn’t give it any care or attention, they’d just whip off whatever sounded close enough, and if they got whole-ass words wrong here or there then it didn’t really matter. Because it’s just comics, right? Who cares about that kiddie crap.
Translation - good translation - is HARD. It’s not just understanding two languages. Linguistic differences between source and translated language are not the reasons translations turn out bad. It’s cultural differences. You have to understand the literature and art and history of both languages, because that informs the environment that the author wrote in and the environment the readers are reading in. You have to make sure someone can just pick it up and read. Giving people cultural context in asides and footnotes and a glossary is great and all, but the experience of reading should be about the TEXT, not about the language. A good translator has to know about cultural and regional backgrounds and tensions in both languages.
Turning a Kansai accent into a Southern accent is a great example of what NOT to do, because the two regions have vastly different cultures that aren’t comparable. An easy illustration is that the stereotype about Southerners is they’re very polite and gracious and charming and speak slowly, while the stereotype about people from Kansai is they’re blunt and aggressive and outgoing and speak fast. But it was the industry standard for years to just slap a “funny accent” on any character speaking with a dialect.
On top of all of those concerns, comics has the additional limitation of space. The translation must meet all of the previous requirements, and also fit into a speech bubble. There is no getting around that. You have to sacrifice meaning somewhere in situations like that, and in an ongoing series with as many twists and late reveals as One Piece it can be hard to guess which word is the one that is crucial to the plot.
There are times I definitely think the translators did a great job, it's usually most noticeable with wordplay and puns, but I'm not sure "better than the original" is how I'd describe that. I think it’s very risky for a translator to try to make the work “better.” The original Swedish translation of Dracula did that back in the day and what they wound up publishing was basically fanfic. (It’s supposed to be really fucking good, though. It just has no more than a passing resemblance to Dracula.)
What does “better” look like? Is it when everything makes sense and is easy to read? But maybe the author wanted this scene to be challenging so you’d slow down and think about it. Is it when you take that random joke out of the serious scene? But maybe that joke was there to balance out the tension of the scene. Is it when the characters always act the way you expect them to? But characters, like people, have contradictions and inconsistencies, and if you take those out the character will be flat and boring.
That’s why I think a good translation is one where the translator is invisible. If they’ve done their job right, you should never think about them. But then, if they’re that good, it’s easy to forget how hard they work to get the product that good. And that’s when people start to think we don’t need translators, we have language learning models and machine translation… But that’s a different rant for another time.
Side note, Viz still pays actual human translators for their work. So do Yen Press and Seven Seas, last time I checked. I’m not about to tell you to NOT pirate shit, but if you buy one of their books you’re actually paying for a person to translate it.
Anyway, sorry/thank you for giving me an opportunity to rant about this. As you can see, it means a lot to me.
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Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader
Warnings: None
Word count: ~700
. * ✦ . ◍ ∘ . * ✦ ‧ ∘ ⊹
Slowly opening your eyes, it takes you a moment to remember that you’re not in your own bed. Instead, you’re met with rays of sunshine peeking in through the curtains over Chris’ large bedroom windows and his snoozing dog by your feet at the end of the bed. You’re shocked he doesn’t hate you for once again being the reason he was kicked out of the room last night.
You’ve been here many times before, but you’ve never stayed the whole night. You have to admit the room looks different in the daylight.
Letting out a yawn, you muster up enough energy to roll onto your other side, but frown a little when Chris isn't laying next to you.
You groan knowing you should get up to find him. Without even checking the time, you can tell it's too early to be awake on a Saturday morning though.
Thankfully your question is answered for you when you hear the muffled sound of his faucet being turned on behind the closed bathroom door on the other side of the room.
You let your eyes fall shut again when he begins humming something softly – You're sure it's one of those classical songs he likes sending videos of himself playing on the piano to you.
Eventually willing yourself to climb out of bed, you tiptoe toward the closed door. You take advantage of it being cracked open, slowly and quietly opening it enough so you can lean against the frame of it.
He's too distracted singing to himself and gelling his hair to notice you right away. You're distracted too, eyes met with the sight of him in only a towel around his waist, fresh out of the shower. You could get used to this, you think to yourself.
But you snap yourself out of it, finally getting his attention. “This isn't gonna work.”
He jumps hearing your voice all of a sudden, clutching a hand to his chest as he looks your way.
“Jesus, warn a guy next time,” he chuckles. But you can point out the exact moment he finally registers what you just said – his gaze narrowing on you, brow furrowed. “Wait– What? Why–”
You have to repress a laugh as his panic unfolds, stepping closer to him to ease it a bit.
“You're a morning person,” you sigh, trying your best to keep a straight face. “We can't– I'm sorry…”
“Oh my God.” He breaks first, letting out a laugh of relief and you can't keep the act up anymore after that. “You scared me.”
He reaches out his hand for yours to pull you closer. His skin is still damp, wetting your clothes as you hug him.
“Good morning,” you murmur, leaning to give him a soft kiss.
“If you say so,” he scoffs, giving you one more kiss. “Gees.”
“I'm sorry for scaring you. Twice,” you laugh. “You know, you could have woke me up if it meant taking a shower together.”
“You looked too peaceful,” he shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips as he thinks back to a few hours ago. “I wouldn't have done that.”
“How long have you been up?”
He pretends to think about it, knowing you won't like the answer. “Since 7 maybe.”
“Chris,” you gasp, jokingly pulling away so you can walk toward the door. “It's worse than I thought. I can't–”
“Stop,” he laughs, gently grabbing for you again to draw you back. “I promise to never wake you up that early, okay?”
“Okay.” You offer him a nod, but you have one exception to give him. “Unless it's so I can shower with you, like I said.”
“Deal,” he smiles. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah.”
“Well enough for you to sleep over again sometime?”
“Of course,” you laugh. “I had a really nice night.”
Another wave of relief washes over him. “Me too.”
. * ✦ . ◍ ∘ . * ✦ ‧ ∘ ⊹
Tag list: @chris-butt @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @princess-evans-addict @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @la-cey @turtoix @katiew1973 @harrysthiccthighss @tvckerlance @bluemusickid @rocketrhap3000 @mrspeacem1nusone @murdcox @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @livstilinski @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @gitasor @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403
#chris evans x reader#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans fanfic#chris evans imagine#chris evans x y/n#dest's flufftober
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An Ask Game for Writers to Procrastinate Working on Your WIP(s)
Thank you to @theearlgreymage and @wellbelesbian for the tag. I haven't done this one before
(Original Ask Game)
1. 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s):
I'll go with TikTok dancer, because it's one of only two I haven't published yet, and the other is my COBB so I can't give too much away on it.
2. 🍄Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of “___ + ___ =___”
Simon Snow + the Pacific Ocean = Dancing Sea Lion
3. 🌍What tags or warnings will your / one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it?
It is very very explicit. Simon is a slut in this one.
4. 🧭An alternative title to your/ one of your WIP(s)?
Honestly? This is the only name I've come up with for it. I may change it, but I tend to be fairly resolute when it comes to my titles.
5. ⚠️Which WIP your most likely to finish or update next?
Probably Cupid's Shield. I'll be updating Cupid's Shield and Saving Simon Snow in the next few days. The next chapter of Stars, Flowers, and Children ought to go up by Wednesday.
6. 💾What is your document of your WIP/ a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)
I always save my docs under their title once I have the title. Before that, I call it by a descriptive phrase, like "cobb 2024" or "Tiktok AU"
7. 🖍Post Any sentence(s) from your WIP.
Simon Snow is standing above me, looking at me with a perplexed expression. I quickly get my own expression under control. “Hello?” I say coolly.
“Baz,” he says, and my eyes widen. I wouldn’t have thought he’d remember my name, given the many similar encounters he must have had over the years.
“Snow,” I say, neither encouraging nor discouraging this discourse.
For some strange reason though, his eyes light up at the sound of his name and he beams at me. “What?” I say sharply, confused.
He shakes his head and his curls fly about with the motion. “Nothing. It’s just, I like it when you call me that.”
That’s distinctly odd. Don’t people generally prefer to be called by their first names?
8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP.
I originally had this ending two different ways, and one of them was mpreg. I shifted away from that idea before I started typing though.
9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?
My friend denticles (sorry, forgot your Tumblr user) gifted me an idea that involves Baz being a fanfic writer during the Watford years. I'm excited to start it, but I am determined to finish The Heart in The Well first.
10. 🤡How many WIPS are you actively working on?
lol, you know me. Too many. 8 at the moment.
11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?
Not currently. I'm more fighting with deciding how detailed to make upcoming scenes.
12. ❤️Not a question, just a second Kudos to send.
🥰
I'll tag most everyone I know who (I think) has a current WIP, why not?
@iamamythologicalcreature, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @chen-chen-chen-again-chen, @palimpsessed, @frjsti, @fatalfangirl, @melodysmash, @onepintobean, @tea-brigade, @messofthejess, @larkral, @confused-bi-queer, @mooncello, @j-nipper-95, @facewithoutheart, @best--dress, @nightimedreamersghost, @thewholelemon, @youarenevertooold, @cutestkilla, @artsyunderstudy, @ileadacharmedlife, @hushed-chorus, @prettygoododds, @whatevertheweather, @angelsfalling16, @noblecorgi, @bookish-bogwitch, and @blackberrysummerblog
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ok @morporkian-cryptid tagged me to do this fic author interview so here we go...
if you would like to do this, i am officially tagging you, yes you, right now. tag me back so i can see your answers
1 How many works do you have on AO3?
i got 40
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
1,044,749
3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
sorry like none of these are lupin iii. a blight on my lupin iii blog
Wabisabi (991 kudos) - Spirited Away. idk it's short and cute, read it
BONES OF BLACK MARROW (952 kudos) - Homestuck. the infamous cyoa cannibalism sex fic. scrolling through the things people say about it in the bookmarks is always so funny
Cum mortuis in lingua mortua (925 kudos) - Homestuck. no clue why it has so many kudos lol it was like the first long thing i've ever wrote (a whole decade ago??? jesus). it's a d&d/discworld joke
Vanitas vanitatum (914 kudos) - Homestuck. the same d&d/discworld joke except the LI is turbo depressed. notable for being the only fic i ever outlined and edited and that's why it whips
Supermassive Retinol Overdose! (677 kudos) - hey look, a lupin fic made it on here!
4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
i do when i have something meaningful to say besides "thank you!" i don't have a lot of thoughts about my own work so therefore i tend to not respond if there's not a direct question :( my head is empty. i always respond to every single comment on the last chapter of longfics though because i'm always impressed people read that far lol. genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading all that
5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
idk uhhhh i wrote a series once where two of the main couples break up at the end, but it wasn't really angsty
6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?
they all end pretty happily
7. Do you write crossovers?
if i did it was so long ago i don't remember it
8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?
no but people used to send passive aggressive hate about my art in fics once in a while. hasn't happened in like 2+ years
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
yes. every kind. EVERY KIND
10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
a bot will sometimes scrape my high kudos homestuck fics and plant them on a junk ebook site
11. Have you ever had a fic translated?
yeah i think like 7 of them got translated into russian and do numbers on ficbook.net
12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
in the past me and my friend would sit around a laptop and scream laugh write our way through crack fics
13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?
right now it's jiglup and fujilup
14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
i finish almost all my WIPs because i'm a freak. if i don't finish a WIP it's because some dramatic life event happened. this has only occurred two times
15. What are your writing strengths?
im a funny binch
16. What are your writing weaknesses?
i don't outline or edit or re-read any of my fanfic. i just type it and then eyeball it for typos and then post it. i COULD outline and such to really make the narrative nice and tight, but i don't find it very fun to do (for fanfic) and this is like, my relaxing wind down hobby. i just wanna have fun haha. the only reason my fics like, make sense, is because i write at least one ending scene first thing and always aim for that, and also i write out of order so i kinda know the route of the story
17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
it's fine if it makes sense to do it there as a narrative device
18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?
h-hetalia crack fic.....
19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?
once i figure out how to draw zenigata it's over for you bitches. luzeni hours on da clock
20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?
for lupin iii fic, i like Lightkeepers the best
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Just a little wish for a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year to some blogs that have brought me joy this year
🎄🎁🎄
Awwww. You're so sweet!!! You made my day. I mean it.🥹
Thank you for sharing this with me. I'm glad my blog brought some joy to you this year. So glad! I love your blog too. Very much! ♥ Wishing you the happiest Christmas and that you have an excelent 2024 ahead, dear.
🎅🏼🎄✨🩵
Since we're on the thanksgiving mood, I'd like to thank my favorite blog owners here too, some of the wonderful people I got to talk a little bit this year - or not talk in a personal level but either way, I appreciate you very dearly
I feel you are my priceless gifts this year. ♥
First, I'd like to mention @elvisanddenise. I didn't have a one-on-one talk with you yet, but I'd like you to know you were the reason I wanted to rejoin Tumblr this year in the first place. I am 28 years old now, so I've been a Tumblr addict in my teenage years (for a different reason other than Elvis) but I lost that passion long ago. I didn't even actually use to share anything. Back then I used this account purely to read some fanfics on one of my favorite TV shows characters and that was all, until I got over it a bit. My Tumblr was forgotten for many, many years. This 2023, you were the reason I found it would be fun being active here again. Before I had my Elvis account here, I already accompanied your content daily. DAILY. Your account has a special tab in my browser, which I check on every single day. I mean it. It's been almost a year and, well... I gotta thank you for all the awesome posts you share, the great Elvis pictures and accurate info you upload to your blog, dear. Many great, even rare, pictures of EP are shared on your blog like, weekly. Yours is my favorite blog on Tumblr so far. Thank you so much for sharing your love on Elvis with us. I can see how you dedicate yourself to this passion and I highly appreciate it. ♥
Now, I got mention @eptodaytommorwforever as the first friend I got to talk when I came back to being active on Tumblr this year. I appreciate how kind and sweet you've always been to me. Thank you for all your wonderful, accurate info shares on your precious blog. ♥
Recently, I got to interact a lot with @jhoneybees @lookingforrainbows and @thetaoofzoe. You're so much fun, always making me laugh with the silliest things, which are the best kind of laughter ever! You've been nothing but the sweetest human beings to me and I also love the great content you share daily on each of your blogs, the fanfics, the pictures, everything! I hope you feel how much my words are true. A big hug from this new Elvis friend of yours here. I hope you're all safe and happy. ♥
@bellanotchewrites My dear, I hope you're doing fine. You're so sweet. I'm sorry if I'm shitty in answering my DMs. I really struggle on that, don't even know why, but you've been on my mind. Keep strong, sweetie. i'm wishing you the best! I care for you. ♥
@vintageshanny Always with the best tags, thank you for remembering me this year, dear. Although I don't always manage to participate on the tags content you share with me, I always have great fun seeing all the interaction from the other friends you tag. I love your blog so much! ♥
@dreamingofep I didn't got to read many fanfics this year because I have a hard time focusing on anything recently — and I know I'm missing a lot of great content from other friends here. I hope next year I manage to read a lot more of our talented Elvis writers. Anyway, I 'd like to say your "Sinned Awakening" series is my favorite! I love Vampire Elvis. You're doing an excellent job on that series, dear! I'm loving it! Thank you SO MUCH for sharing your writing gift with us. ♥
And last but not least, some of the people that are always sharing or liking my content here but much beyond that, the people I love following. You make everything better. I love interacting with you and I appreciate your shares deeply. All of you have wonderful blogs. ♥ @precious-little-scoundrel ♥ @claire-elvisgirl @nothing-but-elvis @i-r-i-n-a-a @lett-them-eatt-cake @vintagepresley @suraemoon @bigdaddyelvislover @velvetelvis @presleyenterprise @alvvaysonmymind @ccab @almightybigbrain @aliengoth3 @pinkcaddyconfessions @tupelomiss @loving-elvis @heartbrake-hotel @elvisflowerchild @peaceloveelvis @helen06dreamer @sissylittlefeather @yintoeveryonesyang ♥
I really hope I didn't forget to tag anyone I care for, I'd hate that. But if I did, I'll remember eventually so I can tag you later.
✨ THANK YOU SO MUCH, MY FRIENDS, FOR MAKING MY DAYS HAPPIER THIS YEAR.✨ I wish you all stay safe, healthy, feel loved and appreciated. I pray for you all. Wish all of you a wonderful Christmas and a great holiday season. Enjoy your families and loved ones this holidays, babies. May your 2024 be filled with laughter and joy.
And thank you once again, @precious-little-scoundrel. For inspiring me after pouring so much love on many of us today. God bless you. ♥
Sincerely yours, much love,
Lally.
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@transgender-scout @1ight wait fuck now i have to compile them okay okay okay i have a feeling this is gonna get long so I'm gonna put it under a cut haha but for real thank you for asking!!
First things first! This is how I imagine the flock is able to disguise themselves. There's no going undercover at an actual school for them, but I don't think anyone's looking twice at a bulky coat, especially if it's set in the future. Not too far in the future though, still in the 21st century. I have no ideas for a plot restructuring or anything, I never read past Nevermore and I barely remember anything past the fourth book, so most of my headcanons are character dynamics and such. I do have some that aren't focused on the flock but not many. Anyways.
(also idk if most of this can even be considered headcanon bc its basically fanfic at this point)
A couple things I should've added to the design post are Toto's Total’s nonexistence (I'm sorry if you like him but I do not lmao) and the fact that their hair is feathers. Like those very fine and very long feathers that roosters get. The flock also doesn't develop superpowers.
In my version of things, there's a small town close-ish to the E shaped house. Far enough that no one in town is gonna drop by for a visit, but close enough to fly down to for some groceries, which they'd do after Jeb left and until the money was gone. I think he would've taught them how to forage for things and that's how they get by since then.
Max (21) isn't The Leader TM either, I think leadership is shared more with Fang/Friday and Iggy. She likes volleyball and usually the one to go foraging. She's never thought about it but if she did, she'd probably consider herself agender.
Fang/Friday (22) gets his name from a Friday the 13th DVD cover, Jeb thinks he wants to be called Jason when he first points to it. He used to help Nudge/Dora and Angel with their hair when they were little and still does occasionally. He likes to draw and he's the go-to when someone needs to be comforted. There's no way in hell I would let him be anything less than bisexual.
Iggy (20) is the one that probably hears Friday's voice the most. He was also taught braille and Jeb got them a labeling machine. He's still the best cook and he's very protective over the vinyls/tapes/cds in the house. He mourns the loss of them when they have to flee the house, but he is excited to finally have access to new music. He's also gay. Because I said so.
Nudge/Dora (17) still wishes she could live a normal life, but has accepted that it's just not a possibility. She clings to "Dorothy" when she learns it. Being talkative and into fashion are still part of her character, but now she also loves bugs. She tags along when Max goes foraging so she can try and get pictures of any new bugs she hasn't seen before. Friday often gets to hear which bugs and what they were doing when they're sketching together.
Gazzy/Gizmo (14) gets his name when he watches the Gremlins movie for two months straight and starts mimicking the mogwai noises. He almost kills everyone when he mixes a couple cleaners from under the kitchen sink. He's quickly enamored with the chemistry books he's given afterwards. Like any other teenage boy, he likes video games and has too much energy for his own good. Max offers to race him when he's particularly amped.
Angel (11) is the only one out of the group that wasn't experimented on and she doesn't get the protectiveness or why they never go anywhere. She likes sitcoms and never refuses an offer to forage with Max. She also took a liking to helping Iggy cook things. She was very quick to tell people she wasn't a boy once she had the vocabulary.
Ari (15) has chronic pain. Being turned to goo and rebuilt into something different will do that to you. It doesn't get better the second time. Nor the third. He used to live in the E shaped house, before Jeb brought Gizmo, back when he was a regular kid. He's always liked animals, caring for them. He wanted to be a farmer or something when he grew up. After he joins the flock, he and Gizmo are fast friends. (Watching him and Gizmo dick around is what makes Friday realize that he really is just a kid.)
Maya/Em (21, kinda) my identity issues queen!! Cloning keeps the original memories intact and then they were further messed with to ensure her allegiance. She has a hard time coming to terms with that, with not being Max, not being who she thought she was. Her friends aren't her friends, she didn't watch Gizmo and Angel grow up, she didn't go to Friday after another nightmare, or call Dora to come catch a spider. That wasn't her. Having time away from them before she joins the flock helps. She renames herself Em during that time, distinct enough from Max but not removed from it completely. She learns that she likes cooking and she discovers cheerleading. She thinks she'd like that if she got the chance to participate. She's also aroace. She wants nothing to do with any of that.
Dylan (21) sticks closest to Em, but he eventually grows close to Iggy as well. They share a soaring/gliding wing shape and Iggy is grateful to have someone who can fly as long as he can (recreational flying is always cut short in his opinion, because the others have to work harder to stay airborne and get tired). Dylan likes to tinker around with motors and mechanisms, trying to get them to work again or building them from the ground up. Not that he has an abundance of opportunities to do that, but being able to fix a busted car comes in handy. He's one of them gays that can drive.
Lastly, I do have ideas on Erasers and different classes of them and their usages but jesus christ this did in fact get very long and I need to go eat something lmao so that'll have to be a separate post for another time.
#maximum ride#the last media i have consumed of this book series#was the manga#and like a quarter of a five hour recap video of the plot#and i would like to keep it that way lmao#i only want nostalgia brain maximum ride
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3x06, part 3. My fav part so far. I love this episode.
The saga of "Jamie Tartt made me just realise something deeply personal" continues. Kiss him. Kiss the boy.
Jamie's hands on Roy's. Jamies hands on Roy's hips. I'm gonna stay here for a while, y'all.
The way I laughed though when they both fell lmaooooo.
The way Jamie IMMEDIATELY went away from Roy, afraid to get punched for his efforts. Then Roy raising his hands to show that Jamie has nothing to be afraid of. My goodness, that hurt.
Are we sure this isn't a fanfic? Roy sitting there like a scarecrow without moving his legs. C'mon, dude, it's so easy and way less painful that falling from the bike. Also, the fact that they're ALONE on the street. This definitely gives me so many thoughts and things to happen.
Roy in any unconvenient situation: promise to murder Jamie.
Roy's partner needs to have SO much patience to push Roy's buttons in order to help him improve. AND JAMIE HAS THAT. I can't stress this enough. It's amazing. I am so fucking proud of him.
Guys.... Yeah, I can see why Phil said it was his fav ep, especially filming wise. "We've been given one hour to do that we want."
YAAAAAY. Another win for the gays. I just... I'm happy.
I'm sorry, but I'm thinking about Roy headbutting Jamie on the nose just so he could hug Jamie so tightly. I know where I live for the next week. Colin wise, my goodness, I want all the best things for him. I really should have had a tag for him when I started posting a lot of this show.
I love Trent.
That is SO fucking significant, omg.
"When you know you're doing what you're meant to do, you have to try." I'm gonna make this about Roy and Jamie, too.
Roy and Jamie getting out of this crowd of shouting peasants before they even started shouting was the absolutely best thing for them.
They ARE on a date.
Oh no. Jamie, that's awful, I am so, so sorry. :(
"and I wanted to share it all with you", right, Jamie?
They're COMMUNICATING. We're going somewhere.
Very subtle, Jamie. And you've got yourself a boyfriend, Roy, is that really such a bad thing?
Gosh, I love this. I would absolutely watch another couple of hours of them talking and spending time together.
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HOLY SHIT THERE'S AN ISAGI FANPAGE??
..sorry lol. anyway, im a big big isagi fan, so i was wondering: what are (in your opinion) the best/worst takes or characterizations you've seen about our beloved striker isagi yoichi?
YES THERE IS AN ISAGI FAN PAGE!!! I love making fan pages <3 I have many
Uh quick note tho: most of the characterization of him I've seen has been via fanfics so I'm not 100% sure about how Tumblr views him, so when I say "the fandom" I mean the fandom I've seen from tag searching ao3
From what I've seen there's 3-4 main ways the fandom takes him and thats: 1 uwu soccer boi twying his best, 2 RAHHH SEX GOD, 3 [insert love interest] omg I live for you never leave meeee, 4 shy boy whos good at shit. Which isn't that bad tbh, other fandoms wouldn't even get close to his character, so while I kinda tear at those interpretations they aren't so far from the mark.
1 I think is mostly from anime onlys because at the start of the anime he's kinda like that and people tend to run w/ their first grasp on a character, also his low self esteem and repetitive losses throughout the season can very easily feed into that. However in the manga as the series carries on he gets more and more skills, he gets more egotistical and confident in his own abilities. So seeing this version annoys me because if anyone in this series is gonna be like that it's Igaguri I mean
Look at him, but even then that'd be a stretch.
2 is just frustrating to see everywhere like calm down
3 stems from wanting to ship characters but not knowing how to write individual ships, so the writer defaults back to a cookie cutter dynamic and sorta fits the characters. It happens in every fandom, with every ship. At least once. It's like rule 34 but the porn is optional.
Ah but it doesn't fit Isagi because he's more than capable of leaving people behind if that's what's best for him, it wouldn't be personal for example him and Bachira play against each other all the time and they play to win but they're both still close after the game. He's able to detach emotions from leaving someone behind which is why when they show up again later he's genuinely happy for them, he still likes them. So for Isagi to be like "nOoOooooo I neeeeeeeeeeedddd youuuuuu" it doesn't make sense. And in regards to the 3v3 game against Rin. He was upset about Bachira being taken I think if Bachira had chosen to be on a different team he wouldn't have been so pissed.
4 is just episode 1 and 2. He outgrows his "shyness" immediately, but it is the closest to canon imo. Because Isagi isn't shy per say but he is aware of his limitations (most of the time) which means he does change his plans to accommodate that, not exactly shy but I can see how one could read it that way.
As a bonus I don't mind the chatfics but I'd like if they gave them text accents. I think Isagi is a no punctuation but uses capitalization For Emphasis kinda guy.
Sorry if I didn't answer this how you wanted but I love yapping about characterization.
I was gonna say how I'd personally characterize Isagi but this is already several paragraphs longer than I'd planned so. another day.
#bllk#bllk isagi#blue lock#blue lock isagi#isagi bllk#isagi blue lock#isagi yoichi#isagi yoichi blue lock#bachira x isagi#isagi x kaiser
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