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parvulous-writings · 4 years ago

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Stars //Sith!Obi-Wan x Pregnant!Reader

Request: Heya! First of all, I just want to say, wow!!! I loved wvry word of the Vader x Reader you did, and reading your notes, I really don't mind it as an AU! I've never really read anything to do with Sith Obi-Wan before, though to be fair I only just got into Star Wars again 😅 This isn't really a request, but from what I can see from your posts, you seem to really like Obi-Wan, well, Ewan Mcgregor in general 😂I wanted to ask if you could write another x Reader, but this time a Sith Obi-Wan AU?Thanks for reading! -Red ❤ p.s, @rey-is-not-a-skywalker, you're welcome for requesting the sith x reader, I guess you're obsessed as I am 😂 p.s the second, I'm loving the new pfp!

Requested by: Red

Summary: The reader has some news for Sith Lord Obi-Wan Kenobi

Warnings: The reader is AFAB, pregnancy

Words: 1.7K

Notes: You would be correct in assuming I love Obi-Wan and Ewan McGregor as a whole. Also I’m glad you like the new pfp! I am also in love with it! :) Did I self indulge with this oneshot? I think you know the answer. Leave me alone, I am too much of a simp at this point. I have never been pregnant, so some of this may be inaccurate.

Not my gif

An old Jedi’s fall from grace was a never a pretty sight to see, it was no glorious tale to tell from any side. It was full of hurt, pain, hatred, suffering. This was more than true for the fallen Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. His downfall was the least expected out of those who turned away from the light, he had always been the most loyal of men, the most faithful of soldiers. Perhaps, in part at least, this was what drove him away from his original allegiance. He was an exceptional leader of course, the most fantastic of generals, but besides that, in the larger picture, to the Jedi Order as a whole he was nothing more than a faceless defender of the galaxy. Just another of the tens of thousands Jedi. Another factor that led to the man’s path to the dark side, was you. What you made him feel. The passion, the love. An indescribable feeling, all he could say about it was that it was truly wonderful. He did not mind the fear, or the hatred that came with it, for you made it all worth it. The massive highs compared to the lows outweighed them greatly, and thus he gave it all for and to you. His passion, his loyalty, his love. Everything he had, every fiber of his being, he gave it all to you. If he could turn the worlds on theirs heads, and you gave the word, he’d do it.

You had initially been shocked at the man’s sudden change of life-plans and of loyalty. Though, the more you thought about it, the more you began to convince yourself, perhaps he had made the right choice. He wasn’t so uptight in regards to public affection now- he’d often smother you with kisses in front of company, or hold your arm or hand as you wander about in cities or halls. Despite the Sith being the darker beings of the Force, the life you now lived was almost... Peaceful. After a while, you very much enjoyed it. There weren’t so many rules now, and you both felt free. Though, not everything about your new life was free or peaceful. There were times that Obi-Wan was pulled away from you much like in the way he was during the times of the Republic and the Jedi Order. He’d be wrenched from your embrace for weeks or months at a time, and the holocom conversations you shared were not the same as actual conversations. The comforting presence you both gave to one another were missing, and it was painfully obvious to the pair of you.

One particular night, whilst Obi-Wan had been away, you were staring out at the stars- each of them twinkling from their position on the blanket of the night from their positions thousands of light-years away. They fascinated you every night, though you knew some of the planetary systems by name and had visited a few yourself, you couldn’t help but imagine what could be hiding away on them, what could be awaiting discovery. They also distracted you from something plaguing your mind on this particular night, something you needed to get off of your chest. It had been bothering you more and more over the last few days, ever since you had made the discovery.

You are brought from your train of thought by the bleeping of your comm. You move leisurely to answer it, there was only one person who could be calling you at this time of night, but you knew he wouldn’t mind you taking a moment longer than usual. You answer your lover’s call, and a murmur on the other end of the line hushes- he must have been talking to someone as he awaited your answer. “Ah, my beloved.. I thought you had fallen asleep.” He mused quietly, his smug expression clear even through the blue hologram, and you can’t help but chuckle at him. “No. I was looking out at the stars,” You tell him, plainly. Sunsets and night skies held a special place in both of your hearts; you had spent many nights on Coruscant looking out at them, telling each other the wishes you had made on shooting stars that you rarely saw. You heard Obi-Wan sighed quietly. He knew your habits when he was away, and what they meant. “I should be returning soon, my dear.” He assured you, lowering his voice to nothing more than a whisper. “I am trying to get this done, you know, but it’s not as easy as-” “I know, I know.” You cut him off, wrapping your arms around yourself, looking down at the floor. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Obi-Wan’s brows furrows, clearly he’s noticed your odd behaviour.

“Something’s bothering you.” Obi-Wan notes, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his long robe. “Tell me,” He demanded. Though his tone was soft, it was still very much a command. You start to shake your head at him. “I would rather not... Not over the comm.” You start, looking over to his projection. He looks even more concerned than before- partially because you disobeyed an order from him, and partially because you were willingly withholding information from him. You never did either of those things, not with him. You were both in balance, and trusted each other completely. He knew this had to be incredibly serious for you to say something like this. “Then I shall return immediately.” He no longer cared for his assignment; he would much prefer that he knew you were safe and out of harm’s way. You start to shake your head more frantically. “No, Kenobi- you must finish the task the Emperor has given you, he-” “Can wait.” Obi-Wan finished abruptly. You could tell from the way he stood and held himself- chest out, shoulders back, spine rigid and straight- that he could not be swayed on this. “He can wait.” He repeated, wanting the words to sink in, for you more than himself. “I will be returning, whether you agree with me or not. I will be back by the morning.” And with that, those final harsh words, he ended the call. You sighed quietly, running your hands over your face in exasperation and stress. You hadn’t wanted to pull your lover away from the mission he had been given, you had wanted to wait just a few more days till he returned as had been planned. You sighed deeply, moving away from the comm, heading towards bed as you strip off your clothes. You nestle under the covers, wrapping your arms around yourself for some comfort.

By morning, you were well rested. As your eyes started to crack and flutter open, you became acutely aware of the arm around your waist, and the head buried into the back of your neck. You shuffle slightly to look over your shoulder, smiling slightly at the peaceful expression on the face of the sleeping man behind you. By rights, you didn’t even have to turn over to know that it was Obi-Wan, you knew the feel of his aura and his touch. Still, it provided a sense of comfort, knowing with more certainty that it was him. You shuffle round to face him fully, brushing some of his auburn locks away from his closed eyes. His nose scrunches ever so slightly at the contact; and he too starts to wake up. It’s a slow process for him, and always had been. Even during his time serving the Order; though your mornings together were few and far between, you had noticed this little pattern of his. His eyes crack open like yours had done, and a drowsy smile moves over his lips. “Good morning, darling...” He yawned softly, before pressing a gentle kiss to your jaw. “You look stunning...” He told you, his lips still pressed against your skin as he gave you the compliment- no doubt the first of many that morning. “You flatter me, Obi..” You murmur in reply, and presses kiss after feather-light kiss over your jaw and neck. “I speak only the truth for you, my love...” He trailed off for a moment, as he started to push himself up onto his elbows. “Now... Onto business...” He mused, “You still need to tell me what’s bothering you.” He pointed out, and he was right, as he often was. “So, I would start talking, my dear.”

Though his demeanour is playful, you know you shouldn’t argue this time around. You sit up, leaning against your pillows as your try to think of how to start talking about your recent discovery- despite it’s wonderful connotations, it was not as easy as one might think. “Obi...” You begin. “Darling.” He replied, hardly missing a beat. “I have some... Rather pleasing news.” He nods, prompting you to continue. “You... Are going to be a father.” It takes him a moment to actually register your words, for their meaning to sink in. He practically tackles you back into the bed when it clicks somewhere in his mind, the widest smile on his face. He’s laughing breathlessly, hardly able to believe the news or contain his excitement because of it. “Is it so?” He asked, his hand splaying over your stomach as he spoke. “My, my...” He mumbled- and it was moments like this that showed how much he had changed from his old ways. Had you given such news to him whilst he was still a Jedi- he would have panicked at first, asked if you wished to keep the child, and if you had done he would have likely asked you to leave to a slightly more rural planetary system. He had no fear now, and so didn’t need to ask you. He accepts it with ease in these times, and is more than happy to receive such news. He had no fear in rearing a child now, so long as you wished for it too. He paused as this thought washed over him, then gave you a curious look. “Are we... Keeping the child?” He asked, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “I think we could be wonderful parents... If you’re not away so much.” You poke your finger into his chest. “Alright... I will discuss it...” He mused, resting his head near you abdomen, gazing at it in wonder. He could hardly believe that your child- the fruits of both of you- was growing there, and he was more than just excited to meet his child. He pulled you close again, whispering sweet nothings and reassurances as the morning wound on, till you eventually fell asleep again in his arms, comforted by his presence.

#sith x reader #star wars sith #kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi #kenobi #obi wan x reader #obi wan imagine #sith obi wan #sith obi wan x reader

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imaginethebeautifulworld · 3 years ago

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do you have any writing tips? mostly for fanfiction, but general stuff would be awesome too. i really enjoy writing it but i almost always end up hating the results and deleting them afterwards. you’re my favorite fanfic author on this site so i wanted to ask :)

Hello, Lovely~

Oh, honey. I think the biggest tip I can offer to you right now is to save everything you write, even if it's nothing more than a smattering of sentences scribbled on a napkin during the morning commute. I can say firsthand that, given time, they can come back into the mainstream for you, and play an important part of a story you may not have even imagined yet.

This year especially I've been finding old pieces, abandoned ideas, and the aforementioned napkins, and then my muse strikes; suddenly those seeds I would have tossed out are growing into something beautiful, just waiting for their moment in the sunshine.

We are each of us a constant, endless stream of ideas and concepts, and while sometimes we might not like the things we come up with right away, you may find- even years later- the beauty after all.

But if you're looking for more specific-ish writing advice, I've actually made a few different posts over the years.

For characters, I advised (and still stand by) doing the more subtle details first. Do they jiggle their leg? What's their posture tell you? How many details can you guess at just by glancing at their coat? Writing a character is like making a new friend; you pick up the details as you go along.

When it comes to setting, I feel much the same way. I want to present the scene in a way that my audience can feel it, experience it.

In my latest Prussia Insert, aftermath, I include a few distinct descriptors- the taste of concrete, the texture of bandages, the distorted fuzziness of seeing things through only one good eye. I like to keep a majority of the scene open to the interpretation of my audience, with only a few firm details to make it feel more real.

In a prompt I wrote for kissing the Awesome Trio, I describe the texture from ocean air, hint at the dusty scent of marble and the bittersweet aroma of cherry blossoms and ginkgo berries. (That is a very distinct scent that still lingers with me five years later.)

One of my favorites however has to be one of my England pieces: an aside. In this one, I focus more on specifics of the scene as I had a very clear image in mind I wanted to convey. From the rosewood bookcases to the subtle hints at the detailing of Arthur's clothes to the sounds of the party just beyond the cracked pocket doors so common in larger Victorian homes, I wanted to craft a specific atmosphere for the scene.

On that, another Anon had requested more information about writing in that style, and my biggest advice consistently remains to do research, whether that comes from reading more fanfiction or falling headlong into a fantasy series or tripping facefirst into a children's story, I highly recommend it. We're writers; inspiration is everywhere should we choose to find it.

Overall Lovely, the key is to save all that you do. You may hate it now, but I promise that it can easily come into play for you later down the line. I say this from experience; both the Prussia and England pieces I mentioned in here I almost deleted a few years ago, but something told me to save them; I'm happy I listened.

I hope this helped in some way luv, and I hope you keep writing, and perhaps, one day, you'll share some of your stories with us.

Thank you so, so, soooo much for the compliment, the ask, and your curiousity. I hope this inspires you in some way, Lovely. ❤

#ahhhhhhhhhhhhh oh my gooooooooooooooooooood #thank you thank you thank you ahhhhhhh!!!!!!!!#my darling anon i cannot thank you ENOUGH #asdfghjkl thank you #seriously though my darling PLEASE don't delete your work!!! if you aren't quite feeling it after just save it somewhere for a while #i promise it will find a way to fit in somewhere somehow #writing advice #reference #writing tips #hello lovelies~!#i hope y'all're doing well!#i would be honored to read your work someday anon ❤#anon asks #anon ask #anonymous ask #anonymous asks #long post

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neocatharsis · 4 years ago

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NCT’s Mark Lee on Dreams, Instagram Poetry, and Growing Up

Mark has a lot going on — but he’s making time for poetry, introspection, and, of course, the members of NCT Dream. - Vivien Wu

“I’ve been thinking about dreams a lot these days!” Mark Lee exclaims over Zoom from SM Entertainment’s Seoul headquarters.

The 21-year-old leader of NCT Dream is enthusiastic as he mulls over the meaning of dreams, his back against a wall of pink and yellow flowers assembled by his fellow NCT members. He’s wearing a simple, white tee, and when he gestures with his hands, you can catch glimpses of the friendship ring that all seven members of NCT Dream wear as a symbol of their bond.

“I actually feel like dreams hold a large portion of a life, and I’m not just talking about the subconscious dreams that we all have when we sleep,” he continues. “If you put it in a way where dreams are actually things that motivate us, and the drive that keeps us going, especially as a strongly driven person myself, I feel like… a guy with no dreams is like…” He looks up, thinking. “…A car with no engine. So, I think it’s as important as yourself. That’s how deep I go with dreams.”

His interest in dreams is fitting, considering that they are also the central, underlying concept to the lore behind NCT Dream’s parent group, NCT. They connect their three subunits, NCT 127, NCT Dream, and WayV, in a complex, Inception-inspired fictional universe where dreams are the only way they can find each other, and where upon uniting they can mix to form new subunits collectively referred to as NCT U. In practical terms, this has resulted in a 23-member mega-group that is multifaceted in every way — from their musical styles and visual aesthetics to their cultural backgrounds and spoken languages.

NCT Dream’s original teenage concept meant that members were supposed to “graduate” when they came of age, and as the oldest, Mark was the first to leave the group at the end of 2018. Having grown attached, however, fans were devastated at his departure; after a year of separation, SM announced that the graduation system would be scrapped and that he would rejoin the group. Their new album, Hot Sauce, is the first with Mark in over two years. As fellow member Haechan declared in an interview with Teen Vogue earlier this week, “Mark [is] very special. NCT Dream means Mark.”

But before the rapper led NCT Dream, and before he joined NCT U and NCT 127 and SuperM — the man is in high demand — Mark’s childhood dream was writing. He grew up in Toronto, and through doing school projects and essays quickly discovered that he had a natural way with words. Inspired by Percy Jackson author Rick Riordan, Harry Potter, and James Patterson, Mark dreamt of becoming an author, long before he was recruited by SM at a global audition in Canada in 2012. “When I was in school, I was always the kind of guy who would write more than expected, and that became a thing that clicked for me,” he says. “I was like, ‘Maybe it’s something that I naturally do?’ But then that kind of turned into rap writing too, so I guess they kind of clicked together.” It explains his prolific career as a lyricist; since debuting, he’s amassed over 30 songwriting credits across his various groups, contributing to songs as iconic as NCT U’s “Boss,” NCT 127’s “Cherry Bomb,” and NCT Dream’s “Chewing Gum.”

Even with such an extensive body of work, however, penning lyrics hasn’t satiated his appetite for literary expression. In an interview with Japanese magazine Men’s Non-No, he revealed that he still hopes one day to write a book, whether that be a novel, autobiography, or something more philosophical.

In the meantime, he’s taken to writing what are basically short poems on his Instagram, which he created just a few months ago. He’s gathered over 4.5 million followers since then, but having such a large audience hasn’t deterred him from being endearingly vulnerable with the way he writes. When I refer to them as poems, he laughs and looks embarrassed, but when I ask him to tell me the stories behind them, he’s enthusiastic again. They’re short, but offer brief glimpses into Mark the writer — sharp, inquisitive, and thoughtful. As pieces of literature, they’re a little rough around the edges, but the sincerity he’s known for shines through, illuminating the introspective, philosophical side that may not be so obvious in person.

His first poem, loosely titled “Late Night Scribbling,” put into words his musings about sleep, thoughts, feelings, and writing. It meanders from topic to topic, hovering between feelings of hope and hopelessness, before ending with a comically awkward “haha.”

“I actually wrote that by imagining how I wanted to organize my Instagram page,” he explains. “I was thinking of creating an Instagram, then I realized that, well, I’m not really a picture kind of guy, I’m not really a travelling kind of guy… I kind of studied who I am first, and I [asked myself], ‘What’s something that I can really portray in an intimate way?’ and it turned out to be writing.”

“I started to brainstorm what kind of topics I could write about, and then from there on, I started to write a little each and every night, and that turned into Late Night Scribbling,” he continues. “That kind of gave me courage to start Instagram in the first place, that piece of writing.”

Two weeks later, he followed it up with “Black Socks,” a whimsical ode to, well, black socks — complete with accompanying photos of him wearing said socks. Immediately, it feels more confident and cohesive than its predecessor. Using the neat and tidy look of black socks as a metaphor, he describes his own mindset for living life: “Pleasure from perfect alignment; That also goes for my ability to be parallel with my thoughts and actions; I try to live out what’s in my mind, and keep it consistent even when forgotten like a working habit.”

Comments on the posts praise his writing and encourage him to continue sharing these small pieces of himself. On the stage, Mark takes on a confident, larger-than-life persona, while in vlogs and spoken interviews, he’s a bubbly character full of laughter and boyish charm. What the poems show is that, beneath these outer appearances, there’s another layer of complexity that is yet to be fully explored, and it’s not surprising that fans want to know more.

His day job as a K-pop idol doesn’t allow a lot of time for hobbies, though, and he confesses to not having written much lately. Despite that, he’s determined to stay in the industry for as long as possible. “Longevity is something that I’ve always been aiming for,” he says. “I’m willing to do this for a long time, and that requires a lot of work. I’m willing to take that as a challenge and I’m trying to stay as long as I can, but with quality.”

That focus on quality informs his preparations for the upcoming promotions with NCT Dream. In both their fictional world and ours, NCT Dream are a central component of NCT by virtue of their unique focus on growth — the seven members were aged between 14 and 17 when the group first debuted in 2016. Fast-forward five years, and the members are now 19 to 21, having reached a milestone in January when the youngest, Jisung, finally became a legal adult in Korea. When asked if he feels like an adult yet, though, Mark gives an extremely relatable answer with zero hesitation.

“I still feel like I’m in middle school, I’m gonna be totally honest. I swear to God, I feel like I’m… All right, I’ll put it up — I feel like I’m in high school!” He laughs. “I even had this talk with Jisung, ‘cos he’s the latest that turned into an adult. He said that he still feels like he’s a student, he doesn’t feel like he’s 20 [19 in international age] right now.”

It’s been a long time since all seven Dream members — Mark, Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jisung — have released an album together, and as the first full-length album since their debut, the fan anticipation is palpably intense. Mark himself has mentioned in various vlogs how important he believes this comeback to be, and that conviction becomes obvious whenever he talks about it.

“We had a talk all together, the seven of us, without any cameras or anything. I brought all the guys together and we talked before the whole momentum started, and I said that I’m willing to put my everything on this one. Like, I always had, but I feel like… the whole universe, or like— ” He pauses, trying to figure out how to articulate himself, and his next line is the most emphatic of our whole conversation. “There are things that are out of our control, but we can see and feel when the pieces match together sometimes, and I feel like this specific moment, this particular album, kind of had those essential parts.”

He’s thinking about all of the context surrounding this comeback: the group’s coming of age, the reunion of all seven members, the scale of the album, the fact that Jisung has only just recovered from a leg injury that meant he couldn’t dance for months — even the fact that 2020 was, against all odds, the best year yet for NCT, with release after release bringing them unprecedented success and momentum.

“I felt that coming and I explained all of that [to the group],” he continues. “This whole period of time has a lot of meaning to it, and we’re not taking that for granted, we’re working hard.” With everything that’s happened, Hot Sauce is a historic moment for NCT Dream, and that’s been reflected in their numbers — the album clocked over 1.7 million pre-orders, obliterating their previous record of 500,000 for last year’s EP, Reload.

Their familial bond and the success that has come with it is the culmination of years spent living, working, and growing up together. The members have collectively missed out on key experiences that most teenagers might take for granted, distanced as they are from normal life, and the group also benefits from an unusually loose adherence to traditional Korean age hierarchy. The result is a brotherhood that goes beyond just being colleagues. “What we have is pretty intimate, and it’s also genuine,” Mark says.

About his role, he is matter of fact. “I’m by far the most easily approachable punching bag for the team. I am not… complaining…” He laughs. “But all jokes aside, I feel like my role for this team… Yes, I am the oldest and I am the leader but I’m also… In Korea, in the culture, age is very important, but we’ve come so far that all those borders kind of just vanished and we’re all pretty much friends, and I guess I’m just a friend of theirs too.”

It’s true that, despite being the leader, his friendly personality and endearingly awkward mannerisms mean that he commands about as much authority as a small puppy. Instead, much like a puppy, he is showered with love and affection (fellow member Chenle refers to Mark as his son and his actual puppy Daegal as Mark’s little sister), but that doesn’t mean he isn’t a dependable leader figure. The opposite is true — in Renjun’s words, Mark’s presence unites the group in a way that makes him irreplaceable.

And while this may be the fifth year since their debut, in the grand scheme of things, the members of NCT Dream are still very, very young — by most standards, they would still be considered to have their entire careers ahead of them. Growth has brought them here, but where does Mark think it will take them in the future?

“Growing just never stops for us, I can see us growing continuously, endlessly,” he replies. “What the future holds is something that we will never know, but we always do try to prepare during the present, and so with whatever time we have currently and with whatever album, or whatever stage, or whatever piece of music it may be, we’re willing to make sure that we have the next one coming too.”

A final thought. “I’m glad that we’re striving for that, ‘cos we started off as…” Mark shakes his head, “…as babies.”

#nct #nct dream #Mark #nct 127

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memzhay · 4 years ago

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A fun conversation about cock rings below the cut.

I have a second husband that I keep for theater purposes. A charming, elegant gay man whose partner doesn’t like to go to shows. My day-to-day husband thinks the only good “musical” is “The Blues Brothers,”(ugh!) and it’s a great arrangement for everybody. So, once every couple of months, from the pre-show brunch to the post-show cocktails, we consider ourselves theater spouses, and if people mistake us for a real couple, we both get a kick out of it.

He’s also very supportive of my writing and likes to toss out anecdotes that I might be able to use for something. The following is an except from a very entertaining conversation we had over some fancy post-show old fashioneds.

“And balls can shrink up when it’s cold, you know. So, we are walking around Chinatown over by that hipster karaoke place, and it falls out of my pants leg and just clangs noisily on the sidewalk in front of everybody,” he says like he’s embarrassed, but he’s not. He knows it is an epic story.

“Hold on, hold on,” I say. “I have lots of questions. First off, I had no idea people wore cock rings just out and about in life.”

“It’s jewelry,” he explains. “You can wear it whenever you want to. It’s a really pretty silver one with stones set in it.”

My friend is very fond of fancy things, so I’m betting it is the prettiest jeweled cock ring in existence. “And why was it around your balls?”

“Well, it looks a bit like a snowman. There is a big ring at the bottom and that goes around the…” he makes a gesture with his hands like he is holding an orange while making a random humming sort of noise, “and a smaller hole on top for the…” he does an OK symbol with his fingers, thinks better of it, and opens his fingers a bit to show that the ring would obviously need to be a little larger than that. I laugh appreciatively.

“So, what did you do?” I ask.

“Picked it up off the ground, put it in my pocket in a confident nonchalant manner, and was the most interesting person in the group for the rest of the evening,” he answers, terribly pleased with himself.

“Huh,” I muse and wonder idly whether Rhett or Link would be more likely to own a jeweled cock ring.

“Next time we go out, I’ll show it to you,” he offers.

I smile and raise my eyebrows at him.

“I mean, I will bring it with me in my pocket and you can see it. Not like I’ll ‘show it to you’,” he says exasperated.

I decide a change of subject is in order. “Do you suppose you have to wear face masks in brothels?” I wonder.

“Except for when you’re eating,” he answers with a naughty grin. I’m so fond of him, I can’t stand it.

We have a cheers to that and continue to have a lovely evening.

#personal #cock rings #a nice gentleman sometimes takes me nice places and opens doors for me

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galactichen · 5 years ago

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work of art | seo changbin

prompt #51. “Please stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, it’s terribly distracting.”

description. seo changbin, your tattoo artist of a boyfriend, is a work of art (and he knows it).

pairing. seo changbin x reader

genre. romance, tattoo artist au

word count. 1.0k+

author’s note. hello! starting up a brand new series where i work through a list of 100 prompts, writing up little drabbles or whatever comes to mind. mostly using these to introduce and perhaps develop some au’s and muses that have been running around my head.

warning. gets slightly suggestive bc tattoo artist changbin is a cocky piece of shit.

Changbin’s room was always fascinating to you.

Everytime you walked in, there was always something different about it compared to the last time you visited. Whether it be a different poster on the wall, a new arrangement of post-it notes with blueprints of his next design, or a new record on his desk for inspiration—there was always something to look forward to seeing.

Today is no different.

As you lay on his bed, eyes scanning the room, you take note of the new rock posters plastered on the wall—ones that you recognize as bands he’s recently taken a liking to based on his recent purchases at the record shop you worked at. They take up nearly half of the wall and would have kept going if not for the tall black shelf that is home to many of Changbin’s vintage records. They’ve been neatly arranged like books on a shelf, save for the few larger ones that have their own display stands, as well as his personal favourites. Rush, Led Zeppelin, and even The Beatles are among the albums that you could see from your perch on his bed.

One of the records in his collection has been taken off the shelf and now leans against the wall at his desk before Changbin himself, quiet humming coming from the boy as he sketches away, his chin in his other hand as he works.

His left arm that faces you is decorated in countless designs of black ink—some of his own, some from his friends, and some even from you. They swirl across his skin, curling across like snakes from his fingertips all the way up to his biceps before disappearing beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt. It’s a work of art, much like Changbin himself, with his sharp eyes that are accentuated by his eyebrow slits, his other brow pierced with two little studs. His hair is messier than usual from the day’s work, exposing his undercut as well as the many piercings on his ear. And if you looked close enough, you could see another tiny tattoo of minimalistic stars behind that same ear.

It’s evident that Changbin viewed his body as, quite literally, a canvas, and took pride in his accessories and the art that trails across his skin. And not a day goes by where he’s not dreaming up more designs not only for himself, but his clients as well—just what he was doing right now.

You, on the other hand, had your laptop in front of you playing the latest season of one of your current favourite shows, your boyfriend’s beloved Munchlax plush toy clutched in your arms. It’s funny, really, how Changbin treasured this little toy—nobody (not even you when you first met him in your shop a year ago) would have guessed that an intimidating guy like him would own such a thing. It was literally almost as precious to him as his all-time favourite records.

A movement in your peripheral catches your eye, and you’re quick to notice Changbin lean back in his chair slowly, arms stretched over his head as he stretches out the kinks in his back. He lets out a sigh, dropping his arms back down before beginning to roll up his sleeves, exposing the rest of his tattoos as well as his biceps.

You struggle to keep focussed on your show, your eyes subconsciously trailing back to Changbin’s arms as he shifts his attention to his other sleeve. The way the muscles in his arm move is captivating, and it makes your insides turn to literal mush just watching him.

“Please,” you say, pausing your show. Changbin turns to you with a raised brow, arms paused in the air. “Stop rolling your sleeves up, it’s distracting.”

Changbin only grins at your words, turning in his swivel chair so he’s facing you. He spreads his legs, leaning forward so his elbows are resting atop his knees and god—he knew what he was doing.

“I didn’t quite catch that,” Changbin tells you with the absolute cockiest grin on his face. “What did you say?”

You sit up with a frown, still clutching his Munchlax—Gyu, you should call it—in your arms. “Don’t make me say it again,” you mutter quietly.

The way he sits in his chair, sleeves rolled up to expose his inked arms and hair tousled from constantly running his hands through it made you want to squirm in your spot, legs pressed together—but you don’t, because your boyfriend was a cocky piece of shit who thrived on things like that.

But then he opens his arms with a much warmer smile this time, and you find yourself on your feet before your brain can fully register it, his hands wrapping around your wrists to pull you onto his lap like second nature. Gyu gets temporarily squished between the two of you, so Changbin quickly tugs him out of your grasp and places him gently (wouldn’t want to abuse the poor thing now, would he?) on his desk.

“Am I a distraction?” Changbin whispers as you bury your face in his neck, the scent of his cologne bringing a familiar warmth to your chest. His hands slip beneath your shirt, sliding across your skin and the feeling of his cold fingers against you makes you shiver slightly.

“Unfortunately.” Your voice comes out slightly muffled and Changbin chuckles. “I was trying to watch my show, ‘binnie,” you whine quietly.

“What if we watch it together, hm?” he responds, his lips trailing light kisses down your neck. His hands begin to wander elsewhere, but you’re quick to lean back and catch them before they wander too far. He only gives you an innocent look when you glare at him, as if he was saying, I didn’t do anything.

“But what about-” you start to say, in reference to his work, but he cuts you off by pressing his lips against yours.

“It can wait,” he murmurs against your lips that move in rhythm with his. “My baby needs attention right now, doesn’t she?”

Cheeks flushed, your breath hitches when his hands wander again. This time, however, you don’t stop him.

#hi sorry this is a repost bc the original got hidden from searches #changbin #changbin imagines #changbin scenarios #changbin x reader #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #seo changbin #changbin imagine #changbin scenario #stray kids scenario #stray kids imagine #tattoo artist changbin #100 little prompts #update

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eggdesign · 5 years ago

Photo

Finding your audience

Part 3 in my like + reblog series.

In part 2, we discussed the results of part 1 and what might be better to focus on instead of the like to reblog ratio. In this post, we’re going to dive in deeper into that! These tips can be useful for reaching to a wider audience or trying new theme types outside of your comfort zone.

Like the other posts in this series, it is pretty long, and will have a summary added in an update.

Sections of this post:

Who is your target audience?

Blog Type

Blog Theme

Blog Features

More tips

Who is your target audience?

In order to reach whatever your goal is for your theme, it’s important to understand who your target audience is*.

Some questions to consider:

What kind of blog does this theme suit best?

Is your preview ‘themed’ in a specific way (aesthetic, fandom, etc)?

Does it have any special features specific to certain blog types (fansite, blog members section, commission page, etc)?

*A small disclaimer: you do not have to do any of the things I’m about to list below. Ultimately, make themes you want to make + how you want to make them. These are just tips if you are stuck and want to reach more users.

These tips can also apply if you are perfectly fine with your current audience but want to get better at making previews!

Blog Type

Look at whatever theme you’re working on, and think about what kind of blog type will use this theme the most and make it look the best.

If your theme has 3 columns, odds are your posts will be on the smaller side and won’t look as good with text heavy blogs. In this case, you should make your theme preview appeal to blogs that usually don’t reblog text heavy things like aesthetic blogs and art blogs. Try to be consistent with your posts so that it’s clear what blog type you are going for.

If your theme has a lot of image based elements (whether it’s sidebar, header, or other image placements), you should go for blogs that reblog/make icons + graphics. This can be blogs that feature fandom gifs/edits, rp blogs, kpop blogs, etc. They will be more likely to have a good eye for images that go well together and fit in with your theme’s design.

Blog Theme

While not every blog has a specific theme it follows, a lot do have something they primarily focus on! They might not be particular when it comes to choosing their theme, but they will be more likely to choose something that features the thing they post about.

An example of this happening is my theme Facade. I included a fandom post that I didn’t even realize was from that fandom, the aesthetic just matched the theme perfectly. The theme got reblogged heavily from that fandom, and got a lot bigger than I was anticipating! While this one wasn’t intentional, almost all of my most popular themes are using this method.

The easiest way to do this is make your theme preview feature things you are interested in as well, or are familiar with. The more familiar you are with a fandom’s ‘aesthetic’, the easier this will be to incorporate in a theme’s design, plus it’s fun to do when you’re passionate about it!

This can be picking a sidebar + header that features characters/actors, or featuring edits + fanart from that fandom. This works well if you want to appeal to that fandom but also want people outside of the fandom interested as well.

You can also go all out and make something directly inspired by a fandom. Video game inspired UI, using fonts from movies/tv shows, incorporating album covers in your design, are all ways to feature fandoms in your themes more directly.

Keep in mind that this option might make you lose audiences that are not part of the fandom, so if you want a more universal appeal, option 1 might be better. .

Try to look for blog themes/fandoms that have a strong community but aren’t really featured in themes. This doesn’t mean you can’t release a theme inspired by a very popular community, but your theme has a higher chance of getting lost in a long list of already existing themes.

Blog Features

Some users have specific things they look for in a theme because of the type of blog they have. These things might not appear in your average theme, so they’re more likely to be on the lookout for specific features and pass on themes that don’t have them.

Writing blogs are a good example of this. These can be fanfic writers, studyblrs, or just language/writing blogs in general! Lots of themes are geared more towards photo posts, and previews will often reflect and highlight these over text posts.

If you want to appeal to this group, make sure your preview highlights text posts, and that your text post styling really stands out. One complaint I’ve seen from this user group is that a lot of theme posts are too small for what they’re writing, so themes with larger posts and larger text will appeal to this group more.

RP blogs are another example. Similar to writing blogs, but usually come with a different set of needs. RP blogs have a lot of replies, so having dashboard captions might be a better option than blockquotes for readability. Sometimes they include icons in their replies, so make sure your themes support smaller images in posts and won’t stretch them out. They also might look for members + muse sections, rules sections/popups, and places to add custom graphics.

More tips

One thing that is universal in all of these options is doing your research. If you’re trying to appeal to a wider audience than what you currently have, you might have to step outside of your comfort zone.

It’s never okay to steal someone’s design, but do study other blog themes that your target audience uses. This isn’t really about the design of the theme, but what features they have. What do these blogs have in common? Do they share color schemes, font choices? Do they prefer sidebars over headers? Do they like simple or complex themes?

These are all things you should consider when making a theme for your target audience.

Going back to blog themes, I would personally avoid intentionally going after what is popular just to increase your note count. If you’re not really into what you’re making, it might start feeling like a chore and draining to make. You also run the risk of it feeling ‘empty’ compared to your other work. The extra notes aren’t really worth that, in my opinion. But if that doesn’t bother you, by all means go for it! Just a warning as someone who tried that for my 2nd ever (and since long deleted) theme because I was new.

Finally, if your target audience is small, your note count might reflect that. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing! If your target audience loves your theme, then it is still successful!

I’m also saying this to not get discouraged if your theme doesn’t go beyond a smaller group. That doesn’t mean it was a bad theme, your audience might just be really niche, and that’s ok!

However, if you want to change that, then hopefully this post has been helpful!

In part 4 I will cover reaching audiences that might not be actively looking for themes

#theme making #tumblr themes #like to reblog ratio #tips #advice #blog

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jtrbluv · 5 years ago

Text

shutterbug | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 4.1k

warnings: swearing, unbearable but relatable tiger parents

request: Jungkook,, one shot,, 38 + 40 please 😊😊 @asiivnc

“you leave whenever you feel like it.” & “don’t apologize if you don’t mean it.”

A/N: sheesh, i have not posted in a hot minute! i’ve been trying to work on this single request throughout quarantine and it really only came down to these last few days where i literally had a spike of inspo and drive and well,, ideas LOL. i considered an alternate angstier ending but i am a self-indulgent mofo who doesn’t like to make myself cry even though i’m sure i cried while writing this at least once (maybe twice). there is so much jk content on my blog i wanna set aside more time to write for other members from now on until i’m satisfied! regardless, thank you @asiivnc for requesting this and sorry for the wait luv, hopefully this can make up for it !!

Jungkook was known to be heavily passionate and fully invested in whatever his life had revolved around at that moment. As a film/photography major, as well as a man that just had a strange knack for being naturally adept at whatever was thrown at him, he incessantly poured his utmost efforts into his works. You weren’t any different, as you held just as much significance in his life as the way his serotonin levels would skyrocket as soon as his fingertips touched his precious camera.

Not to be self-absorbed, but you always thought of yourself as his muse. Or befittingly for his sake, the subject of the photo that you would give the title ‘his lover’.

You were so indisputably sure that you loved the boy and even moreso that he felt the same. While being so accustomed to his own nurturing ways and devotion to you and the reciprocated energy on your part, the bone-crushing weight of college hindered all and didn’t give a single fuck about anyone or anything.

Carrying the begrudging burden of having to succeed because he didn’t take the traditional lawyer/doctor career route, was always at the forefront of his mind. Likewise, for fuck’s sake, he nearly got disowned by his own parents and it took him what seemed to be a lifetime’s worth of energy to convince him to just give him a chance. Jungkook was not planning on taking that chance for granted.

Jungkook, being the person he is, was excelling, and his name was beginning to become known in the community of photographers and videographers, and he was finally starting to feel at ease. His parents were even acknowledging his successes to the extent that they were helping him financially with school, which was a huge burden off of his shoulders. And then you suddenly crash-landed into his life and just made his life even more fulfilling and by all means, worth living in.

He knew it was a bad idea. Distancing himself from you was the last thing he wanted to do. All his parents were concerned about was the fact that you were the only thing hindering him from making it “big”, when turns out, you became the sole inspiration and muse for most of his recent works. So they gave him an ultimatum to either be cut off financially or break up with you. He didn’t understand, because his parents liked you so much and they loved the influence you had on his work. He didn’t understand. He hated it—the fact that he was basically hanging by puppet strings and didn’t have a say in what he did considering the age he was in now.

He also hated the fact that he knew they had good intentions, and were only doing this because they wanted him to be successful. Their idea of true success for his career could only be seen as the financial benefits of being a director or producer rather than being able to just pursue and learn more about the art form that he loves. There was no use of trying to persuade them, so likewise, he did not. But why get her involved into this mess too?

Jungkook tended to stray away from confrontation and hated immediate and unexpected change as much as he acted like it didn’t phase him. He figured the sooner he can gain benefit from his passion, the less dreadful this dilemma would be. Less mess. Less stress. More time to be with you. That was the intended plan.

His next course of action was to score a film internship and potential job at the rather famous, Fox Studios. By doing so, would have to win the statewide film contest— a much larger scale than he had ever involved himself in. The mere thought of him having to showcase his own self-produced work to critically acclaimed film critics made the bile in his system threaten to upchuck onto the lemon-pledge scented floors of his dorm room. Then he remembered and was reminded— by the help of you of course, that he was Jeon Jungkook, and everyone knows that Jeon Jungkook does not like to lose.

He presumed that keeping up his grades would give him more credibility to getting the internship as well, so he put more focus onto his schoolwork. The remainder of his time was dedicated to exploring his potential ideas and storyboarding out his options and what would be most effective and most consequently— worthy of winning first place.

During this very strenuous time for the poor man, you would most likely see him trudging down the halls, hair in a complete disarray or simply hidden by the fabric of his hood, his eyelids threatening to close shut almost as if it’s taking all his willpower to keep them open, chugging down another red bull with one hand while he grips the strap of his backpack with practically no energy.

I mean you thought it was kinda cute at first, but his apparent deteriorating state mostly caused you to be more concerned than anything else.

In hopes to not hinder his creative flow but still keep his health at par, you would stop by every so often to give him food and give him reassurance—he never needed it so much until now.

Jungkook never told you about the irrational ultimatum his parents had given him. He came to the conclusion that it’d be unnecessary as long as he was able to carry out his plans. Nonetheless, the pressure of the whole situation was getting to him. The love of his life, passion for working with a camera, his parents’ disapproval, and just the own personal dream to be able to tell everyone that “Fuck you, I told you I could do it, and I did,” enveloped his whole mind these days.

Time had proved to not work in Jungkook’s favor. Two weeks passed in a mere blink of an eye leaving him with only two more weeks to finish his film in time for the film contest. This time around, he decided to choose a topic that resonated more with his own personal life. The film revolves around the struggle to be able to conform to the standards and expectations that society implements onto young people, whether it’d be from mainstream media or direct connections, like family. Typically, he stuck a title onto his projects after fully completing it, but for some reason, this time, it had worked in reverse. The title itself suddenly popped into his mind one day and from there he was able to garner ideas from it. And so the title was ‘Moulded’.

A very risky step on Jungkook’s part was what you initially thought when he first told you the idea. He knew that too, which is why he did it. You knew him long enough to be aware of the influence his parents had on his life and their outdated beliefs. You also knew the potential the boy’s zeal could take him, and because of that, all traces of worry left you shortly afterward.

Two days. The film contest was in two days. Jungkook was just about finished at this point, constantly playing back frames and adding final touches, rewatching the same parts over and over again until he became satisfied. He leaned back in his chair and let out a heavy sigh, eyes finally averting from the screen of his desktop to the clock on his bedside table.

“Only 9:15?” he muses, realizing these past four weeks had completely fucked over his sense of time, “At least I’m down, color correcting can be such a bit—”

A small jolt reverberates through his desk, interrupting his verbally spoken train of thought. His eyes beeline back to his phone, the contact picture of his mom flashing on his screen. Why would she be calling me at this time?

His brows knit together as he picks up his phone and swipes his thumb across the screen in uncertainty.

“Um, hi mom?” he greets, with the obvious tone of confusion in his voice.

He can practically hear her scoff over the line, “Jungkook-ah, how’s the film coming along?”

“It’s almost done-”

“Are you still with that girl?” she forcibly asks out of nowhere, leaving him dumbfounded to the point his mouth was hanging open in return.

A few seconds pass by as he processes what’s going on. He tightens his grip on the phone at the mention of you as he confesses through gritted teeth, “Yes mom.”

“We had a deal didn’t we?”

He retorted without waver in his voice, “Mom, I’m not a kid anymore.”

“Then give it back. The tuition money,” she affirms without hesitation, “Jungkook, me and your father have done our part. It’s about time you do yours.”

“I’ve done practically everything you’ve asked. I’m doing just fine,” he monotonously states, trying so hard not to implode on his own mother at this point, “Y/N has nothing to do with this.”

There was a short pause, leaving Jungkook in the same state of dejection per usual when he had to talk to his parents, “We just want you to be successful,” her voice softens, using the same line that somehow magically guilt-trips Jungkook every time the words travel to his ears.

He shakes his head in disbelief over hearing the stupid line that seemed to control every aspect of his life, “You say that every time.”

“And we mean it every time,” she interjects, a sigh audibly present over the line, “this discussion is over.”

She ends the call as Jungkook lets out a raspy and guttural groan, slamming his phone onto his desk in frustration with such strength it’d be surprising if the cheap glass screen protector he’s had on it didn’t suffer any damage.

“Kook,” a voice utters softly from the other side of his door, “is everything okay?”

He flinches at the sound of your voice, considering you were just the subject of the conversation he just had with his mom that left him fuming with rage more than anything.

“Can you please leave Y/N, this isn’t a good time,” he objected, adjusting himself in his seat so he’d face away from the door. Even though you couldn’t see him you could still hear the small indication of irritation in his response.

It was more than apparent something was wrong with him, with only two days left until the film contest, you knew he couldn’t manage to keep his guard down, regardless of the stress and turmoil he’d been putting himself through for the past 4 weeks, “Just because you leave whenever you feel like it…” you enunciate, raising your voice loud enough for him to hear your intentions, “doesn’t mean I will.” Both of you knew the last 4 weeks had taken a toll on the relationship, it was only then that he realized how much he’d been putting it off.

The door began to emit tiny clicking noises as he slowly turned the doorknob. He slowly widens the area as he meekly steps to the side, letting you come in as you make your way toward his bed and plop down onto his sheets.

The tension had never been this thick between the two of you, to the extent where it felt absolutely suffocating and unbearable. You had never seen him in such a state of dejection as he simply sat there, hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt as he nibbled on his lower lip, eyes diverting away from yours at all costs. The knit between his brows that would usually derive from confusion or frustration, seemed entirely different this time around. It was as if his mind was full of nothing but everything all at the same time.

You heave out a deep sigh as you finally break the ice, “Jungkook,” you begin, looking up to see him looking back at you to your surprise, “you know I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry for making it seem that way.”

“Don’t apologize if you don’t mean it,” he mutters only to see the flash of hurt in your eyes that makes him divert his gaze back to the floor, “I know I’ve been acting so selfish lately. I’d understand if you felt that way.”

“I hate seeing you like this you know,” you confess quietly, “I know there’s something up.”

His eyes meet yours once again, mouth slightly parted as if he was about to say something, but the silences ensues and he closes the gap once again, resorting back to nibbling the skin off of his bottom lip until it starts to bleed. Your eyes soften as you observe the boy once more. The span of your relationship had naturally led to the two of you being able to open up to one another so easily. You were both able to tell when the other was feeling a certain way and why. It just came with time and getting to know the other person more throughout the relationship. And alongside that was the ability to know when the other was purposely keeping something under wraps—this was one of those times.

“Jungkook”, you whisper just loud enough to catch his attention, which works as he gazes back up at you with all doe-eyed glory, the knit between his brows gone surprisingly out of sight for the first time since you came over. You glance at his bed—emphasizing the void of space next to you on his bed by patting the fabric and peering at the cryptic man, hoping he would get the sign to sit next to you.

Fortunately, he does. He places his hands on the armrests as he timidly pushes himself up from his chair. The chair produces an obnoxiously loud squeaking noise almost emulating the sound of your dog’s dog shaped squeaky toy (counterintuitive I know, but it was a gift from Jungkook himself, the prick). The sound causes you to involuntarily snort as you look away in hopes to hide the smile creeping onto your lips. Too bad you missed the smug grin on his face at your lackluster attempt.

He carefully approaches you as he warily lowers himself onto his bed, making sure he doesn’t make the same mistake twice. He shifts his body to turn towards you, propping his hands at his side. His eyes avoid yours once more, sparing glances at every inch of his own room as if he wasn’t already familiar with the enclosed space.

You pause and calculate your next move, eyes studying the boy’s body language. You outstretch your arm, gently grasping his wrist as you slide your fingers through his calloused palms and twine your fingers with his own, allowing your hands to rest on your knee. His eyes glaze over your connected hands, trailing back to finally meeting your own once again—they had this all too unfamiliar gloss to them, not the usual star-like specks you had been accustomed to looking at. As a few seconds had passed, you spotted the pool of tears starting to brim in the corner of his eyes. Taken aback, you retract your focus to his whole face and how his bottom lip started to tremble, hopeless. Hopelessness was what he was denoting, an emotion you had rarely if never seen coming from the man sitting in front of you.

Before you could formulate any words of comfort, he speaks up, voice brittle and wobbly, “Am I just a failure Y/N?”

“Wha— what? No, how could you ask that? Of course I don’t think you are,” you assert, unknowingly tightening the grip on his hand.

“It’s just,” he drawls out, pausing to think of a coherent way to voice his concerns, “maybe it just would’ve been easier if I complied with my parents in the first place y’know. I’ve been spending all my time and energy fighting it, maybe I’ve just been putting my energy into the wrong-”

“I don’t believe that,” you calmly interject, “I believe that whenever you put your energy into something, you have a reason behind it. You thought about it for a while, it obviously wasn’t something that just sprouted overnight,” you countered, staring off as your eyes land on his workspace, the flashing screen of his computer that reveal his last minute editing as well as the camera you seldom see the man without, “Working with a camera, creating art,” you say while clasping your free hand over the one that you were already holding, rubbing miscellaneous shapes into the back of his hand, “that is what you love to do.”

“I love a lot of things Y/N,” he simply states.

“Hm?” you let out under your breath as you notice the single tear that falls onto his cheek, contradictory to the straightforward tone of his voice you had just heard seconds before. Your body stiffened at the sight of the fallen drop.

“Did you hear me on the phone before you came?” he questions, swiping away the tears that threatened to fall with his free hand.

You take a moment to recollect the moments that preceded until knocking on his door, “No, I just heard a loud bang. It sounded like you broke something.”

“Oh, that was my phone,” he shyly admits while scratching the back of his ear, “there is something I need to tell you.”

You perk up at his sudden willingness to tell you what was wrong. Your body language conveys the signal for him to continue, and he does.

“I got a call from my mom before you came,” he starts, “she was checking up on me, knowing the deadline is coming soon and what not.”

You nod slowly in understanding, “I see, what did she say?”

“You have the right to know,” he mutters under his breath while diverting his gaze back to your interlocked hands. He intentionally grazes your other hand before taking it into his own before flashing you a small grin of reassurance, “The farther I’m advancing, my parents just constantly feel the need to strip me of everything else. You probably knew that already. You also know that I tend to just rebel and find a loophole out of things most of the time. I don’t know, lately, it just seems like they solely care about success and money these days more than my own happiness and wellbeing, and it’s been like that for so long. Anyways, I’ve been prolonging and putting it aside for awhile now, but they threatened to cut me off financially if I didn’t break up with you Y/N.”

A single tear slides down your cheek. You’re at a loss for words and coherent thought. The only thing you muster to say is whatever decidedly popped up into your head first, “W-why haven’t you then?”

The brimming tears began to fall more frequently for you as well as from the eyes of the man in front of you. He releases both of his hands and slides his calloused palms up to your forearms pulling you closer in proximity, “I said it before, I love a lot of things Y/N,” he gingerly reiterates as he swipes away the tears from your eyes with the pad of his thumb before trailing his fingers to your fallen strands of hair, tucking them behind your ear.

“I love my parents, I love working with a camera, but I undoubtedly also am in love with you,” he tenderly professes while sliding down his hand to the crook of your neck, “I know my parents never meant harm, but they have to realize I don’t either. I owe it to myself and I realize that I am capable of obtaining and having everything I want in life,” he wholeheartedly declares despite the tears that continue to run down his face, “ And it wouldn’t be everything I want if you weren’t here with me.”

He renders you speechless, tears streaming freely as he continues to wipe them away. He was much more composed now, wiping away his own remaining tears with the back of his wrist. You, on the other hand, were practically sobbing into his palm, tears spilling all over his forearm.

“There’s a reason why I chose that particular subject for the film, “ he describes, hands sliding down to intertwine with yours once again, “It serves as a testament to my parents, to my peers, to you, but also to myself,” he beams, releasing the hold on your hands as he stands up from his bed, extending a hand out to you.

You unhurriedly grab his hand, as he tugs you to stand up from his bed, leading you to sit in his own seat. He swivels the chair for it to face his computer, stepping aside so you could sit down.

“I wasn’t planning on giving any sneak peeks, but it just seems right to show you this now,” he explains, clicking through the frames until he arrives at his destination and clicks play.

It starts off with the emulation of a glitching tv screen, the audio sounds as if someone was inserting a tape into a DVR. The ‘no signal’ screen fades into the familiar setting of the beach in his hometown. Hues of blue fading into muted shades of oranges and yellows flash across the screen, accompanied by the soft crashing of the waves washing ashore on the fine sand. The camera quickly shifts his focus to what seems to appear as Jungkook being fully enveloped and underneath the sand, his head being the only thing that isn’t submerged. Flashing his signature grin, his arm emerges from the sand as he gives a thumbs-up to the camera, making the person behind it erupt into a fit of giggles. That person was you.

The scene transitions into the city streets of the suburb that was close to the college. You were walking down the sidewalk, enamored by the bustle of the people who lived there as well as the twinkling lights that were draped from building to building. Clips ranging from his family, his friends, him working, and more are compiled and presented as he talks over it. His voice begins to say, “As individuals living in a society where opportunities seem to just be knocking left and right, we all have dreams and desires. Whether they are attainable or not, that’s what makes them all the more worthwhile and exhilarating to find out for ourselves. Society, whether we like it or not, is filled with certain conjectures that they believe can assure us of these dreams and desires, what they’ve made us believe as the path to success. They mould us from the beginning. As kids, we are told to behave well, listen to our elders, go to school, get good grades, and get into a good college. As adults, we deem success as having a stable job that pays the bills, buying a house and settling down, finding the love of your life, having kids, and working tirelessly until we become worn out and old. We have these presumptions about what’s better and what’s not, what is easier and what isn’t. Regardless of how much we get told that we can achieve anything we want to in life, we grow older and life unexpectedly throws more curveballs at you to make you think that it’s not actually the case. Well, as cliche as it may sound, I’m here to tell you that it’s just not true. Do what you want. Do what you love. Be with the ones you love. Cherish these moments. Film them as keepsakes to look back on. So… what’s your story? What are your dreams and desires? What sparks pure joy within you and keeps you on your feet? Break those moulds that have been holding you down. Reach for the moon and the stars. And maybe someday with the right amount of determination, and a little bit of luck, you can get there.”

The video ends right then and there, and you had no doubt in your mind that this was his best work to date albeit only seeing a snippet of it. A smile graces your lips as you turn your head to look at the creator of it all. He looks back at you with the familiar star-like specks in his eyes, making you feel rest assured that within all the chaos, you would both get through it all.

MASTERLIST

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theofficersacademy · 5 years ago

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The warmth of the Goddess’ blessing has blanketed the land in a rich array of color, and the people whisper their prayers for the year’s crop to grow bountiful under her care. As they wait, hearts and minds turn to thoughts of love and friendship, women weaving fresh petals into lush garlands as gifts for close friends, or to court the attention of a hopeful lover.

With the warmer weather comes more activity along the continent’s coastline, however. The city of Enbarr, the capital of the Adrestian Empire, has long enjoyed its position as the largest and wealthiest port of southern Fódlan. Its reputation for safe and secure trade has been called into question though after a recent string of stolen shipments occurred in Adrestian waters. The Church has heard the desperate pleas of the people, and now sends you to investigate the matter and bring the perpetrators to justice.

Black Eagles Mission: Investigate the thefts!

Welcome to TOA’s first house-centric mission season since April! This season’s mission will be focused on the Black Eagle house, but there are also non-mission tasks available as well. (Please see the FAQ for details on how this works, even if you’ve read the FAQ before.)

Aside from the BE mission, there are other fun things taking place! This season will run from Garland Moon to Blue Sea Moon in TOA canon, but since it’s November-December in real life, some of our non-mission tasks are going to be in honor of the holidays (Fódlan celebrates Thanksgiving in June and Christmas in July)! Take a look!

BE Mission Task Board

Enbarr, the Imperial Capital, the crowning jewel of Fódlan, the place where Saint Seiros first alighted on this continent, the genesis of all civilization… A city that predates the Empire itself is bound to be filled with rich history and places to see. Take advantage of his opportunity and see what you can find!

The merchants, based on their personal experience, claim that the attackers were simply pirates, with no specific targets except for anyone with potential loot. Their stories share one consistent fact: that the pirates flew a yellow banner, bearing the emblem of a brown horse leaping over a lemon. They would investigate, if only they had the funds and supplies. Hey–so long as you’re bothering them all the time, why not help them out? Time is money, and you’re wasting theirs!

The nobility, having done their own investigations, claim that they have spotted ships flying a flag with a very specific emblem on it, one that originates from the Dagdan continent. They’ve always considered this truce with Dagda to be a fragile one at best, and the youngest of the group are itching for a chance to go to war. They’re also not too happy about potentially sharing the glory–you’ll have to work whatever magic you have if you want them to give up anything valuable.

You’ve learned about defensive structures from studying the battlements of Garreg Mach, but Enbarr offers a fresh perspective on city defense in an area that you’ve had little opportunity to study: defending against attacks from the sea. Enbarr’s city-watch has gladly allowed students and faculty of the Officers Academy to marvel at their state-of-the-art onagers, crucial for fending off enemy ships. It’s a unique opportunity, so you better not squander it! [Bows +1]

One way or the other, you find yourself on a ship to patrol Enbarr’s shores. It’s a tense journey, to be sure, and you watch as the sailors frequently look out to the ocean for the marauders. An alarm bell rings above you, and the crew erupts in a panic. “They’re here! They’re coming!” None of your professors have ever taught you how to fight on a boat, but sometimes experience is the best teacher. Hope you’re a quick study! [Any Weapon +1]

NEW! At last there’s a breakthrough in the investigation. A patrol brings news of an isle off the northern coast that seems to have some sort of habitation, evinced by the boats seen coming to and from the place. You’re sent to check it out from a safe distance and report your findings to the Knights of Seiros. The ocean, however, has other plans, and a sudden storm turns the waters rough as you enter the shallows. Whether you’ve planned for it or not, you’ve found yourself washed ashore this island... There’s smoke rising from the trees in the distance. Good news? Probably not. [Grants Gauntlet +1]

NEW! There’s a smaller isle off the coast of the larger one, and at a glance it seems to be nothing more than a collection of rocks. Someone in your party insists on investigating it, and sure enough... it’s an island made entirely of jagged rock. But before you shove off again to spend your time more wisely, you stumble across what appears to be a trapdoor buried beneath the stone. Inside? A treasure cache of gold, odd trinkets, and - strangely - a ridged, bone-white weapon that bears a resemblance to one you’ve seen before...

Non-Mission Task Board

The Garland Moon has come once again and brings, well, the garlands! The Pages of the Blessed Incunabula, a book club, is hosting their annual costume contest! Dress as your interpretation of characters from songs and stories and enter to see if you win! There is a category for each house, encouraging students to use their own country’s folktales. Winners get the special Lion’s Garland, a gigantic wreath of flowers that is traditionally refused by the victor and granted instead to a close friend or (potential) lover. Make your costume and fantasize about who you’ll give the Garland to (or grumble about why you can’t keep it for yourself).

Have you been searching for a hobby that blends your singing talent and love for melodrama? Well, search no more! Thespian blood runs through your veins, and the Garreg Mach Theatre Club is in need of fresh meat–ah, members–to fill their ranks for the Choir Festival! Whether you’re singing your heart out, building the sets, or making constant references to your favorite opera, help put on a musical rendition of The Lament of Saint Macuil! [Faith or Authority +1]

The Inter-House Reception is a traditional event on the 29th of the Garland Moon intended to bring down walls between students of different backgrounds at the academy. This year, it’s a grand feast in a potluck style! Bring your own dishes to the dining hall and share with all your friends. Try not to poison them though.

Wild beasts have been spotted in great flocks outside the walls of Garreg Machs. The giant birds don’t seem to be gathering to attack the monastery, but the Church can’t be too careful. Go figure out what’s been calling the creatures to the fields in such large numbers, but try not to be maimed for inciting their territorial defense. Befriend them, hunt them, or maybe even try to tame them -- good luck! [grants Flying or Riding +1]

NEW! The Rite of Rebirth is one of the most important days of the year, and in some ways also one of the most dangerous. With the Holy Tomb open to visitors for a single day, security needs to be tight to handle the massive crowds coming from all over the continent. Students with availability have been asked to help patrol. Hopefully no one causes a commotion. [Grants Lance +1]

NEW! There’s a special tea brewed for the Rite of Rebirth. The leaves must be kept fresh, so there’s no stock of them in the monastery. Archbishop Rhea calls a handful of students with free time to venture into the mountains to gather the incandescent flowers that grow at its peak. The mountain is under protection of the monastery and frequently patrolled by the Knights so the trek should not be dangerous. But as you near the top, you find that snow has blanketed the peak. Even stranger than that are the houses built out of ice, though no one seems to live here. Is this the work of magic or... something else? Whatever the case, you decide to take some time to enjoy this mid-summer winter wonderland.

NEW! As the sky is believed to be the home of the Goddess, the stars are thought to be the souls who have departed this world to join her. With the shorter nights, the Blue Sea Moon is the month when the barrier between the world of mortals and the world of the divine is thought to be the thinnest. Late at night, when the sun has finally disappeared completely, the people of Fódlan take some time to commune with their departed loved ones.

Frequently Asked Questions

How does the divided task board work?

This season’s mission is assigned to the Black Eagles. Therefore, tasks from the ‘BE Mission Task Board’ must be undertaken by someone that is affiliated with the Black Eagles.

Tasks from the ‘Non-Mission Task Board’ have no house restriction and can be undertaken by anyone.

These aren’t the only threads I can do, right?

Of course not! These are just prompts to help give some ideas of possibilities. You’re always free and encouraged to make up your own threads. You’re also more than welcome to worldbuild on your own, using these prompts as a base.

How do I claim the skill points?

In order to qualify for the skill point, the thread must clearly allude to the listed task and preferably feature the task being completed; however, the point can still be claimed even if your muses narratively fail the task (failure is sometimes just as fun to write as success, after all). You do not need to message the masterlist to claim your skill point.

Can I only do one task?

Nope, you can do as many as you’d like with as many different partners as you’d like! You can do the same task with more than one person! However, you can only claim the skill point for each task once.

What if my partner leaves or drops a skill point thread?

If the dropped thread has at least 2 notes (not counting likes, only reblogs with replies in them) and you have hit at least 400 words on your end, you may still claim the skill point.

Remember to use (and track!) the #toa open tag for any open threads, and you can also post a link to your open thread on the appropriate Discord channel! If you have any other questions or concerns, shoot us a message through the masterlist or on Discord!

#toa mission #mission: seaboard

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yonaih · 5 years ago

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en route I - [ doc x lion ]

posted on ao3 as aIIegro (capital i’s in username)

word count: ~2.7k

a/n: here we go! this is the fic from that teaser i posted a week (?) ago. i said i’d write a few chapters before posting but. i want. instant validation.

Things between Gustave and Olivier had always been tense since Operation Chimera, to say the least. It infuriated Gustave to no end every time he thought about the other haughty, arrogant French operator. Sure, they got their work done once both could temporarily get over their unrepressed hostility towards each other (albeit grudgingly), but even the moments of mutual teamwork didn’t suture the festering sore spot between the medic and Lion. Even the most antisocial operators in Rainbow knew the aspects that the two hated about each other. In some ways, it was rather shocking. Olivier was already known to be stubborn and had a knack for annoying everyone in a room, but his ability to dig a strong, seemingly out of place reaction from Gustave was extraordinary. Doc, a man who basically had “putting up with others’ problems” in his job description, was thought to be universally calm and collected, but Lion’s presence was clearly an exception to that notion.

Twitch found herself almost caught in the crosshairs when she brought Olivier to the infirmary after a recruit training session got out of control and left him with a bloodied calf. The trek down the hall was gruelling. Helping support the larger man, Emmanuelle sighed a little as she fumbled with the door handle, trying to push it with her foot.

“If you couldn’t get the door, knocking is an option,” Gustave called, helping Twitch inside, blatantly ignoring Olivier’s groans of protest.

“My bad, Gus,” she quipped, dragging the bristling Lion towards a cot and haphazardly dumping him there. “Next time, I’ll get a nitro.”

“Very funny. Not a claymore?”

Twitch shook off her vest, tucked it into the crook of her arm, and gave the Frenchman a pointed glare, stuck out her tongue, and motioned to Lion. Suddenly stone cold, Gustave asked what had happened.

“Well you see, recruits got a hold of Shuhrat’s cluster charges and didn’t fully understand what they did. Need I say more, mon ami?”

“I suppose not, but what exactly happened to him?” Doc’s voice soured at the mention of Olivier, whose glare was shooting daggers in return. A moment of tense eye contact passed before Emmanuelle responded.

“No one else got hurt. Some property damage of course, but Olivier is the only one who got hit by anything. I think it’s just, er, stuff that flew into his leg? I am not sure.”

Silence.

“Thank you, Emmanuelle, you may go.”

“Wow, I’m Emmanuelle now, huh?” She playfully retorted before getting up to leave, shifting her vest in her arms. “What did I ever do to you?”

“Em…” Gustave warned as she left with her hands raised in surrender. Once again, there was a tense silence, the only noise coming from various machines scattered throughout the room.

“Are you going to help me or not, dipshit?” Lion snarled before twisting around to inspect his bloodied calf. Nursing his tender leg, blood dripping down his boots, Olivier sat in the most defensive way he could.

“Va te faire foutre,” Gustave spat, reaching for tools to remove the shrapnel in the other Frenchman’s leg and kept an iron grip on the tense limb. Wrenching it free from Olivier’s preening, the medic began to inspect it.

“Oh? Va mourir, Kateb,” was the response as Olivier grudgingly started to comply, refusing to wince when bits of drywall and shattered cement were pulled from his blood covered leg.

“I’d watch your mouth, Flament.” Even though his mood was definitely ruined by the sorry excuse for an operator, Gustave tried his best to disinfect the wound nicely and keep his stitches tidy. Surprisingly, Lion was quiet the entire time. The process took place in almost complete silence. Another few minutes of bandaging a little too tightly passed, then Doc let him go.

“I doubt you’re going to reclean and bandage your wound properly. Come back tomorrow afternoon,” he said gruffly, removing his bloodied gloves and threw them away, purposefully ignoring Lion’s gaze. After some inaudible mumbling from the taller, sandy haired man, the door slammed shut and Gustave finally turned around. Cursing the entire way, he stomped back to his desk and shuffled his mounds of paperwork, blood still boiling and teeth still clenched.

That was simply how it was between the two. Gilles, the poor man, couldn’t take a side. Twitch and Rook were wholly sick of the tension, but they had a much harder time trying to be more forgiving of Lion when he was the one who did anything that rubbed them the wrong way. Rook, as positive as he believed himself to be, couldn’t find common ground with the prickly fellow Frenchman. Of course, it was mostly due to his strong, unwavering loyalty for the medic he thought of as a brother. Julien admired Gustave greatly, considering how much time he spent working with him and how much good he had seen Doc do, whether he was on duty or not. Julien saw the way Gustave and Olivier fought, tooth and nail, and couldn’t help side with the person he thought of as selfless and compassionate. The GIGN’s beloved medic was a trustworthy member of Rainbow and a constant in the dangerous lives of everyone who worked with Six’s team. Overworked and always serving overtime, Gustave’s workaholic habits only added to Julien’s concerns but also made Doc an exemplary example of an operator to him. Julien couldn’t help but appreciate the humanitarian efforts of Gustave. The doctor was an idol of his, flaws and all. Lion? To Rook, he was something like a friend, but Olivier’s thorny exterior didn’t do much to help their limited friendship. He had to admit, though, that Olivier was quite a lot of fun to be around whenever a sparring session was needed. He was a worthy opponent and respectable fighter. His persistence and indefatigable nature was something Julien aspired to emulate. However, Lion was the kind of person he would go out and drink with every once in a while but never truly get to know. It was all very surface-level, Rook thought.

Twitch, no matter how much she enjoyed a good gossip, hated the arguments, if one could call Doc and Lion’s fights “arguments.” They were horrible, chock full of smothering insults and shouting laced with enmity and poison. They were bitter and they were hateful. They made her feel defensive and conflicted. Did she have to choose a side? She was incredibly loyal to Doc, considering their close friendship and the amount of times he came to the rescue for her and everyone else in the GIGN. He was a great secret keeper and amazing listener, even if he was only pretending to do so sometimes. Their trust in each other was mutual, and she liked Gustave’s logic-based, straightforward advice. Even though both respected each other immensely, she did have to hear snide comments about Olivier whenever he was brought up in conversation. Despite this, she couldn’t help but feel like Lion deserved a second chance. After all, who had spent the most time with her in the workshop by far, staying late to work with her on her drones? Who had been the quickest to volunteer to help her to the infirmary when she fell severely ill in the middle of a mission? Who gave her the expensive bottle of wine for her birthday when it was only the GIGN operators who bothered to remember? Olivier Flament. Despite her hope for a kinder Olivier and for peace between him and Gustave, he kept brushing her away and constantly took out his anger on her, even if it was really meant for Doc. It was hard to put up with. “Sorry,” she’d tell him wearily before leaving the room. “I don’t want to deal with this.”

For Rook, it really came down to a deep bias. For Twitch, it was her growing tired of Lion’s sour attitude. Simple.

It wasn’t quite like that for Gilles. Montagne found himself as the middleman of this inter-GIGN war. A unit he thought of as family. Even though he was close to both Gustave and Olivier, Gilles couldn’t figure out the root of their problem. As far as he remembered, the two were quite close before. What changed?

“Gus,” he called from the doorway after being brushed off by Lion, who he had caught stomping out of the medic’s office.

“Gilles,” Gustave responded coldly, still facing away from the door, tidying up his cabinet of supplies next to his desk, tossing away some empty boxes.

“What was Olivier doing here?”

“Injury.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yes.”

“Are you okay, mon ami?”

“Yes.”

“So...no?”

“He’s just being himself and it...displeases me.”

“Understatement of the year,” Montangne mused, walking over and leaning on the counter, observing Doc. “You know he’s not that bad, right? You must’ve known, considering you’re familiar with him from some time before.”

“Merde, that was a misjudgement on my part. I don’t want anything to do with that prick.”

“You both work together frequently, and you make dinners in the GIGN dorm quite uncomfortable. Don’t you want to make amends and spare everyone else?”

“Gilles—“

“No, really.”

“Let it go.”

“Gustave,” he warned, dragging a hand through his hair. “I’m being serious, this is an issue whether you know it or not. It can jeopardize future operations, it’s clear you can’t work together in training simulations—“

“Look,” Doc snarled, slamming a cabinet closed and whirling around to face Gilles. “I have my reasons. We worked together fine in New Mexico. I’m sick of being the one trying to repair whatever relationship we had. I tried, he didn’t reciprocate. I’m done.” Coldly, he brushed past the other man and went back to sifting through paperwork.

“Please. I understand, but there has to be something you both can do.” Gilles was practically begging him at this point, briskly striding towards Gustave’s desk and turning his chair to face him. “Anything. I’ll talk to him, you can figure it out from there.”

After a moment’s pause, Gustave threw down a folder and leaned back, groaning while straightening his crisp white coat. “Talk to him and I’ll try again.”

A pause.

“It means a lot, Gus.” Gilles patted his back and chatted a bit about his day before swiftly exiting, leaving Gustave to think briefly about Olivier before returning his focus to his work.

Unbeknownst to him, Olivier had a similar talk with Gilles. It began as hostile as Gilles’ conversation with Gustave had, but Olivier was the one to pour out the story. The Ebola crisis, the collateral damage, Doc’s vicious retaliation, their previous friendship, everything. All of this information came after a week and a half of partly pressure and partly gained trust. Olivier, while quick to retaliate, was slow to trust. His facade of permanent arrogance and pugnaciousness crumbled in the face of those he believed to have his best interest at heart. Gilles began to get why both were so upset with each other, and it fueled his drive to bring them back together. Satisfied with both men’s responses, Gilles talked to both again, saying that the other agreed to try to make it up to the other.

He thought it was a little selfish of him to try and intervene, but what else could be done? Both Olivier and Gustave were headstrong and opinionated. Eerily enough, Gilles thought they were similar in many ways. Perhaps it was this exact fact that Montagne wanted them to understand. Still, it seemed that their differences were not what drove them apart. Rather, their similarities stood out enough to clash, while unawareness raised a heightened sense of conflict and blinded both to the hypocrisy of their own ideals. Gilles couldn’t have his GIGN team torn apart by the past, no matter how bitter and bloody. He adamantly held blind faith in the power of unity within the group, and it was well known that nothing could stop him from enforcing that mindset. Miscommunication came between Doc and Lion, and Montagne hoped that meeting on neutral ground would catalyze the rebuilding of burned bridges.

Olivier had mixed opinions. On one hand, he didn’t want to let down his guard and risk his pride and beg for forgiveness. On the other, he realized that unless one of them left, there was no escape from working together. He took the issue to church, consulting his pastor and some monks in hope that they could come up with a solid solution to the dilemma that had lasted him a very long time. Returning from his Sunday mass with a strong sense of resolve, he settled on trying to be the bigger person with the advice of his friends at the church. While he did indeed find this difficult, he felt like the brothers of the church were right. No use fighting fire with fire; take the high ground. Cautiously, his battle to repair his bond with Gustave began. It was difficult to adequately explain, but Olivier felt the need to fix things. Something out there compelled him to do so. Whether it was God or an itch to clear a guilt-heavy conscience, that “something” stubbornly wrenched him from his haze of defensive anger towards Gustave and cleared his head for a brief moment, enough to definitively commit him to his revelation.

A week after their skirmish, Lion traversed the base in search of the coffee machine, hoping a peace offering of a fresh cup of espresso would test the waters. After asking a few of the SAS operators, only to be met with brusque answers, he turned to Emmanuel, who he had found lounging in the workshop, wearing a GIGN hoodie and lazily testing her drone. Thoroughly anxious, he felt like a fool for being nervous about anything relating to his quest to make amends with Doc.

“Em.” Rapping the wooden table to get her attention, he leaned against an empty chair next to Jäger, who was too busy to notice.

“Olivier,” she greeted, stretching. “Need something?”

“Er, oui,” he hesitated. “Where’s the coffee machine?”

She thought for a moment, brows wrinkled in concentration. “I know there’s one back at our dorms in the living room, but the one in the base is always moving around. Why? Don’t you drink coffee?”

“Merci. Just wondering. I don’t get coffee from the base.” He quickly exited, giving a curt nod in the direction of some recruits working in a corner who were staring. He continued his trek, finally satisfied when he found a quaint coffee maker in a secluded corner of the communal living and dining room. After a few unsuccessful tries to get it to work properly, he wondered if this was truly worth it.

“A fucking waste,” he grumbled after ten minutes of fumbling around the machine. The coffee looked acceptable, but Lion was beginning to remember the significance of his anger-filled falling out with Doc. Gustave didn’t fucking understand. I bet the bastard never understood death, the damned medic, Olivier thought, gripping the coffee cup tightly as he made his way to the infirmary, purposely walking slower than normal. All about saving lives and shit. The asshole loves preaching about human life but he doesn’t understand death like I do, because I...

No, that’s not right. Olivier felt deflated, the strange bout of petty angst abruptly leaving him.

Maybe neither of us understand what happened in Africa. Determined once more, Lion pressed on, desperate for at least some closure with the past and answers as to why the intertwined parts of him and Gustave were driven away in the midst of the collateral damage and conflict. A mix of almost instinctual anger and resentment fused with a repressed sense of fear became a strange conglomerate that merged with hesitation and dread, all of which came bubbling up as Olivier approached Gustave’s office door. With the inner turmoil of a prisoner on death row, he knocked three times.

“Come in,” Gustave’s professional voice came from inside. Seemingly in slow motion, Lion watched his hand reach for the handle.

This is it, Flament.

#fanfiction #writing #doc/lion #doc x lion #rainbow six siege #rainbow six #r6s #r6s doc #r6s lion #gustave kateb #olivier flament #rainbow six doc #rainbow six lion #wow!!#i cant wait to completely lose any motivation to write!!!

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hearsaykrp · 5 years ago

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hello to everyone -- hearsay is officially open! i’m super excited that so many talented writers have applied, and i can’t wait to see everyone writing on the dash! here are a few important things to take note of, though 😊

please make sure that you follow everyone/the main and read each other’s apps. they’re important, provide history and point of view of the entire cast, and can help you with not only plotting, but also how your character might feel about them, or if they might suspect them ( also the apps are just really fantastic and fun to read ). make sure to welcome each other or respond to intro notes as well. there can be a lot of interesting connections to go off of, and jumping right in to contact each other is always the easiest way to get the ball rolling. engage in the sub-plots created for the canons, but also branch out an create new ones even if your character isn’t connected with them outright. the town is small, so everyone has a reason to know ( too much ) about everyone. i know timezones seemed scattered around based on apps sent in so i know people might not be on at the same time which is fine, but definitely check back for intro posts etc. when you are on.

there will be a mini-event quite soon ( within this weekend ). the way i’m going to try ( and hopefully succeed ) to structure events might be a bit different than what is usually seen. so if you end up having any questions, you’re of course welcome to message the main. mini-events are planned to happen with some regularity. they may not be things such as, say, a party your muse can go to, but they serve to further the plot. there will be larger-scale events as well, but they won’t occur with the same regularity. one important thing to note, not everything connected to a mini-event may appear on the main dash as the sole portion of the event. because of this, please make sure your ask and submits are open. not everyone may get the same message, and sometimes not all muses may get something. it’s not done based on bias but on the information that needs to be fed to certain canons at the time. you can choose whether or not to share this with others ooc as i cannot stop you, but i am going to be doing my best to make it a mystery rp so it might be a little more fun if you don’t! because answers are not always predictable over what a muse will do, the rp will operate similarly to a choose your own adventure premise where a muse’s action at the hands of the anonymous gossip mongerer may influence what then happens in the plot.

one thing to keep in mind - not all rumors or information spread is necessarily true. what the “truth spreader” is sending around can be false, so if something gets posted about your canon that isn’t true please note that it’s more the purpose of the rp and not an attack on your character. lastly, remember, nobody really knows what’s going on or what is true. anyone theoretically could’ve been behind the murders, so it’s best to stay in this frame of mind ic.

keep an eye on your inbox 👀 and make some fun plots!

#hrs notice

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streamworthytv · 5 years ago

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“Ableism as Plot Device” in Netflix’s “Locke & Key”

So...as noted, I have a beef with Locke & Key, and the way certain characters were handled in the show (remember, this has nothing to do with the comic, which I haven’t seen...I have no idea if it’s fraught with the same problems).

I first watched the show as part of my Streamworthy TV venture (currently set up & being fleshed out on FB/IG/Twitter/Tumblr & Snapchat, with YouTube in progress...give me a follow, if you care to help someone AWESOME, that can’t work a traditional job...even part time). I myself am on the spectrum, and have mobility issues that require a chair often, due to EDS. So just putting it out there that people without these issues may not immediately have noticed the problems that I’ll be mentioning...but if you’ve seen the show, you’ll know what I’m talking about (you can also see my other, previous post on general crappiness, as well as LGBTQ issues, that are present in the show).

But this post will focus on ableism, and misrepresentation of neurodiversity and disability. (Please know that this is a PURPOSEFUL separation, as I don’t see my OWN Aspieness as a “disability,” but rather, an advantage. **I know that not all people may feel that way;** however, those of us that benefit from/appreciate the autistic aspects of ourselves ALSO have the right to not see autism as a “disability.” Autism is different for everyone, and thus it shouldn’t be forced into the box of “disability.” (Example: my hyperlexia from a young age served me VERY well with reading, writing papers, and test taking, for many, many years. But back to Locke & Key.)

The reason I brought up the above point was because, through the first season, L&K uses the “autism as disability only” angle, which many of us in the ASD community are used to seeing (and being annoyed by). And despite ZERO character development over the course of the series, I’ve seen “AUTISM AS PLOT DEVICE” employed THREE times, at LEAST. I was dragging through the show, annoyed at the portrayal and usage of the character, as well as a different character, who is wheelchair-using, and nonverbal. But suddenly the “realization of ableism” bolt hit me about the larger problems with the portrayals and usage of ASD here - and I got PISSED.

Maybe we have interests that may SEEM to others to “not be age appropriate” (...when, give me a break, how many NT adults/older teens love stories or movies from comics, or collect Funkos, or went hunting for Pokémon...? It’s NOT just us, y’all). Also, older kids CAN INDEED hang out with younger kids in a mentor-type way, without it being a situation of “welp, ASD = emotionally stunted, so character only hangs out with young child.” But those tropes aren’t enough.

We DON’T innocently extrapolate situations outside our head (in front of others!), ESPECIALLY if it breaks a safety rule we were told, i.e., “well, my mom said I’m not supposed to say if I’m home alone...but you’re a friend, so...no, she’s not here.” Before you tell me otherwise, keep this point in mind - if we have the ability to be home alone, SAFELY taking care of ourselves...then we wouldn’t slip like that. NOPE. If we DID, it wouldn’t BE safe for us to be home by ourselves.

As well, if we REALLY care about an item, we don’t let it go missing (the ASD character doesn’t, but someone else uses said character’s autism to blame for “needing to go looking for the toys he left behind, then got ‘upset’ about,” - also inferring a “meltdown” - every time she needs to go to someone’s else’s house). **If something is related to one of our SpIns (special interests), we DON’T MISPLACE THOSE ITEMS HAPHAZARDLY!!** I’ve been that way since I was a kid. Ugh!!! You also see someone destroy one of his treasured items, just to be cruel. This shows us how important the items are to the character...so he WOULDN’T be forgetting them.

So, we see a mother using tropes of her son’s autism, to manipulate herself into certain important areas/situations, more than once. That, and the fact that the character with ASD is able to let someone know they were home alone when a crime occurred (thus making the person that lives with them a suspect), because of their completely unrealistic, verbalized musing of “the ASD thought process”...mix it all in with the total lack of character development, and you come to the final conclusion:

“This character is only here as a plot device. They’ve been given zero character development, and have been shown JUST enough to ESTABLISH THAT THEY ARE NEURODIVERSE, and then are thereafter ONLY in ways that FURTHER THE PLOT...in ways that would only occur BECAUSE the character is neurodiverse.”

So yeah. This is lazy writing of the worst degree, and I’m more than a little annoyed. I’m sick and tired of “DISABILITY AS PROP OR PLOT DEVICE” (whether that disability is a assumed or not), as well as disabled or neurodiverse characters ONLY being shown as tropes. This does a disservice to not only the ASD community, but to society as a whole; people will expect us to act a certain way, and not be understanding of those that are “higher functioning” - for lack of a better term - than those that are portrayed on television. As well, it’s part of the reason why females with autism are still VASTLY under-diagnosed (as they can have VASTLY different presentation). Not only do people get used to seeing a particular suite of “symptoms,” which they equate to ALL people on the spectrum...but those shown in media are almost NEVER female.

I’m not sure if the comic is set up this way as well, and it’s just poorly executed on TV...but I’m peeved AF😡 There is also the poor acting/treatment of the wheelchair-using, institutionalized character, & how her being non-verbal is ALSO used to further the plot (yikes, my hands are shot...but I’ll get out what I can, here).

I’ve worked with MANY non-verbal children (it was actually my specialty, before physical & mental health issues of my own)...and I’ve also had my OWN bouts of being non-verbal, due to trauma/illness. On BOTH sides, I have always found a way to communicate. Even when my Dad was on a ventilator and life support (mostly for breathing/kidney function, due to sepsis...we sadly lost him a few weeks later), I was able to communicate with him...because, with my background, I saw that he was able to respond with the wiggling of a toe, or squeezing of a hand.

So the use of a non-verbal character that “can’t tell her important secrets,” as another necessary part of the plot, is just MORE lazy, insulting, ableist scriptwriting. The character is NOT catatonic, and is aware of what’s going on all around them; so, by what you see in all interactions with her, it makes you wonder what’s happening to her when she doesn’t have visitors. Is she just rolled into a back room, or off to the side, where no one gives her ANY adaptive equipment?

Any research would show that one with speech issues can build sentences with an eye-gaze machine, or even eye-gaze itself, with symbols. I’d like to think that in real life, a CENTER for those that are disabled, of all places(!!!), would have at least ONE of those machines, or some other means of communication, available.

This is another point that is sad for society at large to view, as it makes people think that they “shouldn’t bother with” people that are non-verbal, as there’s “no way” to let them be part of communication, besides the method used in the show (which I have used as well, but you would think this poor character would be getting SOME type help/services/etc!) It was just CRINGEWORTHY AF...I’m SO sick of shows/movies where someone needs to address someone thrown in the back of an institution alone, to rot (off the top of my head, I remember this from “Dark” on Netflix, as well as on “Orphan Black,” amongst others).

So...yea. I just wanted to post this, for if anyone asks for a link, or anyone stumbles across this, and themselves saw these issues, and got upset. Trust me - it wasn’t just you. This is a comic that was supposedly quite successful...the television adaptation of this could’ve been MUCH better. If there were tropes of other marginalized groups in the comic, you can be SURE that those would be righted for TV. But the ableist train keeping chugging right along, as more people than EVER claim to be “woke”🙄 YIKES.

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nationalpark-rp · 5 years ago

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☆—State of the National Park

Since we last spoke with you all with a group announcement, I am sure it has become very obvious that the group is no longer active in terms of roleplay. As we are no longer enforcing Activity Checks, everyone has generally gone inactive. This we prepared for-- and honestly, had seen coming. A while back when we made that initial announcement, myself and the other mods agreed that the group was not going to survive as an RP group much longer for reasons stated in the post.

The Pokemon RPC just isn’t big anymore, and the audience for a Pokemon roleplay group is even smaller. It is no mistake that a majority of the members we have kept over the past year have been members who have been with us for years at this point. It was always love for our group that kept it going, but now is the time to acknowledge what’s been going on as of late.

National Park, effective today, will be closing its doors as a roleplay group. Anyone who has blogs with us and wishes to continue roleplaying their muses is free to remove the affiliation and continue their roleplaying as they please. It’s a sad thing to see the National Park finally close four and a half years into its run, but it seems like the best course of action for us now. Manectric, Musharna, and I are very busy people, and the rigors of running a roleplay group is becoming all the more difficult, even in the Park’s current state.

However, we all agreed that we wouldn’t want to be rid of the community entirely. To me and many others, National Park has become a very special community to us and it would be hard to completely say goodbye to the connections we made. With the end of the roleplay group arriving, we have decided to keep the NatPark Discord chat open indefinitely!

* * * If you are a former member and would like to be invited into the Discord chat, or are simply interested in joining the NatPark chat regardless of whether you have reserved with us before, please contact me, Meowth-mod, through my Discord: Psy#8548. * * *

The group is semi-private, mainly intended for ex-members, but any individuals who are interested in joining us there are more than welcome to ask. We’re not picky-- it’s just a matter of keeping the group well-maintained that we aren’t actively advertising the new chat.

If you have been with our group and have been in the chat before, it’s more or less the same old place for chatting with your fellow NatPark members, except with the inclusion of casual roleplay elements to make up for the lack of proper dash roleplay, including multifandom RP as well. There’s no Masterlist, no reserving characters, just plot with someone and jump right in to some roleplay if you’re feeling an itch to write! We want the community to remain a casual place to hang out.

It’s our way to give back to you guys, the members of NatPark, old and new. It doesn’t matter how long ago it was-- if you want to come back, please contact us! Always feel free to contact me through my Discord as listed above, where I am almost always active all day.

I sincerely thank every single person who has been a part of the National Park in the past for making it what it was. This was an incredibly special place to me, and it means so much that I was able to meet such an amazing group of people. I hope to meet even more of you through our chat! No matter who you are, feel free to ask about joining the National Park Discord chat!

We love you all, and we hope to see you soon.

☆—Meowth-mod

...But before we go, some final words from Musharna and Manectric:

Hey lovelies! It’s been such a long time since I’ve written for the hub, and I am so sorry that I’ve fallen out of touch with you all. Ever since I moved, things have become increasingly busy for me. With work and starting school again, I just didn’t have enough time for roleplay. But I never lost time for caring about each of you.

Every single one of you lovely people have been, and will always continue to be, my friends. The Park has been my pride a joy, a place I never expected to become as great as it was in its prime, back when the community was larger. We’ve seen our ups and downs, good days and bad days, welcomed and lost so many great people. And yet our friends always came back. Weeks, months, even a year... we welcomed them all. It’s so good to see you again! And it was like we hadn’t lost any time at all.

Time does change things. But because the Park no longer does RP doesn’t mean that there isn’t something better for our community in the horizon. Because we’re now a Pokemon Community, and I wholeheartedly think we should invite those who loved Pokemon but weren’t interested in RP to join.

Thank you all so much for being part of this experience. Without everyone’s support, we wouldn’t be where we are. Everyone who has been with us, past and present, was a special part of who we are. We’re not losing RP so much as we are gaining friends. That’s what the spirit of the Park was always about: making friends and having a connection.

I love you all. And I am thankful that I get to spend my time with you. See you soon.

☆—Manectric-mod

It has been my pleasure to be a part of NatPark for as long as I have been. Although my time as a mod was comparatively short to Meowth and Manectric's efforts, it was an honor to serve this group as much as I could. I have met the nicest people here and I hope to stay connected with you as life gets busy for me. Thank you for making my time in the Park as enjoyable as it has been.

☆—Musharna-mod

#natpark announcements #natpark updates

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etherealwaifgoddess · 6 years ago

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Grateful

Main Characters: Steve Rogers (and a little secondary Bucky Barnes)

Summary: Steve knows he should be grateful for the gift he was given through Project Rebirth but his new life wasn’t as easy as he expected it to be.

Warnings/ Content: Sad feels and some angst. Very brief mention of PTSD.

Word Count: 1943 (not intentional AT ALL. I’m currently laughing my ass off at this)

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! We’re trying something new today! My very first Steve fic and I’m nervous AF about posting it because I feel like this is a version of Steve that most people won’t really jive with. Everyone expects him to be this icon hero but like he’s still going to have some pretty raw emotions. The man went through war and losing his best friend and then battling his best friend, and alien monsters, etc. I refuse to believe that our sweet, scrappy little Brooklyn boy came through all this unscathed. We see other heroes battle their mental health but never Steve, he’s the stoic one. I think not. And so this fic was born. I hope you all like it as much as I do! Please be gentle, I’m just getting my feet wet writing Steve. And thanks for bearing with me while I rant, I love you all more than words can express.

XOXO - Ash

Grateful

Steve had a lot to be grateful for when he walked out of the Vita-Ray chamber in 1943. Something as simple as taking a full breath without wheezing or coughing seemed miraculous after twenty five years of battling endless illnesses in a tiny, frail, body. Dr. Erskine crowed that Project Rebirth was a success and in that moment Steve felt like one too. Steve had assumed life would have been easier now that he was in a more powerful form. He had the natural moment of adjustment, having shot up from 5’4” to 6’2” in just moments, but other than that he expected to have less hurdles in his life from that day forward.

Steve was wrong.

One of the first things Steve was grateful for was his improved eyesight. He no longer needed ultra thick glasses and his astigmatism had cleared up as well. The world was alive with fine details and vivid colors, and he couldn’t wait to get everything down on paper in his sketchbook. He wanted to capture the way strands of Peggy’s hair fell around her shoulders, slightly mussed, after a long day, and the way the rays of sunlight filtered through his bedroom curtains in the early morning. He never got them down though. Steve sat down one evening as Peggy curled up with a book, ready to commit the scene to his page when a sharp, snapping sound startled them both. Steve looked down at his hands and found he’d broken his pencil in two. The second pencil he held too gently, unable to keep his hand steady for fear of breaking it as well, and then in a moment of frustration he held it tighter and it too snapped. His once beloved sketch pad sat awkwardly in his hands, feeling as if it were the wrong size even once he got the pressure correct on his pencils. Steve missed his former size for a moment, the way the sketch pad had fit perfectly balanced on his lap, how the pencils had felt like an extension of his own hands when he drew. He was clunky feeling in his new form, his body designed for brute strength instead of artistic endeavors. Steve shook himself when he realized he was feeling down about the amazing gift he’d been given. Sarah Rogers had instilled a deep sense of humility in her son and Steve felt painfully guilty at having a momentary lapse of appreciation for the gift he’d been given.

Steve was so surprised the first few days when slept through the night. Outside of the times he was so ill he couldn’t maintain consciousness, he could count on one hand the number of times he had slept all the way through to morning. If it wasn’t his asthma waking him up to wheeze or cough, it was his arthritis aching so deeply it woke him. Sometimes his heart palpitations would start up as he slept too, waking him with a jolt, feeling like his heart would beat out of his chest. Bucky used to tease that he pitied the dame who tried to sleep over in Steve Roger’s bed. After Project Rebirth, Steve was grateful each morning for a full night's sleep, until the nightmares started after his first real battle in the war. Sleep wasn’t so appealing after that. It wasn’t until a lifetime later that Steve knew why the memories of war haunted his dreams, Sam taught him the word: PTSD. But back then all Steve knew was that he longed for the nights he was woken by a cough, instead of in a cold sweat with the cries of dying men echoing in his ears.

The thing that Steve missed most, on the rare moments he let himself admit he missed anything at all, was the way he used to disappear in a crowded room. Social anxiety was as palpable to Steve as his physical ailments and it was the one thing Project Rebirth couldn’t cure him of. He was called the star spangled man with a plan, but really he was still a sweating, nervous wreck when all eyes turned to him for direction. Steve wanted to curl into himself in the way his 95 pound body used to be so good at, and slip away into a corner, lost in the collection of larger bodies around him. Now he stood a head above the rest, the breadth of his shoulders and sharp line of his jaw inspiring confidence in his men as he detailed their next moves. It was fortunate Steve was a whiz with math, having taught himself more at home than he’d ever learned in school, and was able to piece together battle strategies based on logic and equations. His anxiety only increased seventy years later when he returned to a strange new world he was completely unprepared for. More often than not Steve missed the days he could drift through the world like a ghost. In the modern world he couldn’t even walk to the store without being stopped by a “fan” let alone try and spend a quiet day at The Met or grab a baseball game in peace.

It was both harder and easier when Bucky returned. Bucky seemed to instinctively know Steve was struggling. Bucky encouraged Steve’s art whenever he could and while Steve had gotten better, he knew he would never quite be what he was and it frustrated him. Bucky tried on several occasions to throw an arm around Steve like he used to when Steve would get nervous out in a crowd, but Steve would blanch at the embrace and Bucky would recoil, distraught that he had somehow made it worse. Steve wanted to explain it but couldn’t past the lump in his throat. Back in the old days Steve’s narrow shoulders had fit so perfectly under Bucky’s arm, pulling him in to shield him from the world. Steve was too tall, too broad, now and what should have brought him comfort was just a painful reminder that nothing would ever be the same.

After months of watching Steve struggle Bucky finally put his foot down. He’d been in therapy since before his trial started and it was helping immensely. His therapist had offered to see Steve for an informal meeting after Bucky had, reluctantly, shared some of his concerns with him. “You’re going. Tomorrow.” Bucky said firmly, staring at Steve across the dinner table.

“I don’t need a therapist, really. Maybe it’s working out for you but there’s no need for me to go. I’m not…” Steve trailed off before he could say something tactless.

Bucky didn’t let it slide though. “Not what? Hmm? Don’t punk out on me. What did you mean? Yes, I go to therapy. So what does that make me? Weak? Damaged? Less than?”

“That’s not what I meant, Buck.” Steve ducked his head, completely chagrined.

“Are you sure about that? Because you’re the one who’s struggling and refusing to go and even entertain the idea of getting some help. You don’t have to struggle. I know I’m not the poster boy for mental health but I’m a hell of a lot better off because of Dr. Franklin. I think you would be too. Just talk to him once, see if you feel any better afterwards.”

Steve groaned, knowing he was on the losing end of the argument.

“I need you to be okay, pal.” Bucky continued, “It’s you and me to the end of the line, right?”

“To the end of line.” Steve said quietly, nodding in agreement.

“Then tomorrow morning, after your run- don’t give me that look Stevie, we’ll go over to see Dr. Franklin and you can just meet him.”

“Okay, if that will make you happy, we’ll go. Now will you please finish your steak? You wouldn't believe what these things cost nowadays.”

Bucky chuckled and speared a piece of meat on his fork, grinning as he took a bite, his smiling eyes never leaving Steve’s.

~~~~~

Steve was still hesitant to meet with Dr. Franklin the next morning but he had promised Bucky he would go and he was a man of his word. Thankfully Bucky didn’t insist on participating other than the initial introductions. He said he had plans and would be back before the hour was up. Steve doubted he actually had plans but appreciated the sentiment. Dr. Franklin seemed nice enough, Steve mused. He could see why Bucky was so trusting of the man after a few minutes of idle chit chat. Steve didn’t expect to get anything out of the session but was too polite to say so.

It all started over a banana. There was a banana sitting on Dr. Franklin’s desk and Steve gave it a subtle glare when he spotted it. The doctor noticed and asked Steve if he disliked bananas. It was an innocuous question but somehow it was also the key to Pandora’s box.

“I used to.” Steve told him with a sigh. “They don’t taste the same anymore. Not that I’d had very many growin’ up but I remember the flavor and those things are just not it. I read a few years ago that apparently the variety we had back in the 20s have all died out and the kind available now are a different type.”

“I’m sure you find a lot of things like that.” Dr. Franklin said simply. But it was a leading statement and Steve took the bait whether he meant to or not.

“Oh boy, do I. You’d be amazed at how things change in seventy years.”

“Like what?”

“Well you certainly can’t get a normal cup of coffee, that’s for sure. And I will never understand why everything has to have a scent or color…” Once the flood gates had opened it seemed impossible for Steve to stop. Dr. Franklin steered the conversation around gently, letting Steve get things off his chest after so many years of being stoic and putting on a brave face. Steve talked about his confusion of waking up after the ice, the painful longing for the world he’d left behind in the 40s, and even a little about how hard it was to find that Project Rebirth hadn’t solved all of his problems after all.

Steve was mortified when the buzzer sounded and Dr. Franklin’s assistant announced his next appointment had arrived. Steve had gone on for over ninety minutes without realizing it. Dr. Franklin didn’t seem overly concerned and told Steve to think about what they’d talked about and consider coming back next week to talk again.

Bucky was pacing in the waiting room and Steve noted his hair was shaggy looking, like he’d been running his hands through it. “You okay, Stevie?” He asked, pulling him close for a quick hug.

Steve realized he must look as worn out as he felt. “I’m good, Buck. Can we go home though?”

“Yeah, of course. Let’s go.” Bucky steered Steve out the door.

Back at their apartment Steve was quiet for most of the afternoon and Bucky wondered if taking Steve to therapy had been a mistake.

Steve did a lot of thinking like Dr. Franklin had asked him to do and the next week, same day, same time, Steve was back in the therapist’s office baring his soul all over again. He went back week after week, even when it was tough to get over the hurdle they were tackling at the time. Slowly he healed. And eventually Steve found the peace and happiness he had been chasing since the lid to the Vita-Ray chamber opened almost eighty years before.

#Steve Rogers #captain america #sad steve #steve rogers is allowed to be sad #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #protective bucky #bucky barnes is a good bro #please be kind its my first steve fic #i may have to delete this if it bombs

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singularitxe · 6 years ago

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More Than Muse (pt 1)

Series Summary: You’ve finally started art university, and on your first day you have a chance encounter with who just might be the cutest boy on earth. Before you know it, he’s your best friend, and then suddenly your muse- but are your feelings for him more than just a crush? Will your relationship ever be more than muse?

Pairing: art student!taehyung x art student! reader

Word Count: 1.3k+

Contains: Just a slow start to what I hope to turn into a very long slow burn series! Will eventually contain lots of fluff, more tags in future parts.

(A/N): Months ago I wrote out a looong draft of how I wish I could’ve met Taehyung, and I’ve finally decided to write it all out. Sorry this chapter is short and a little boring, I had to set everything up somehow. This is pretty specific on some things because I’m writing directly from my college experience in art uni, sorry if that bores anyone. Also! Please let me know if this au interests you, I won’t keep posting if no one cares lol.

So, you’re finally here. Your first day of university.

You’d been ecstatic when you’d gotten the letter not too many months ago; your portfolio had been approved, and you were accepted into the art school of your dreams. It was small, a fairly new program piggy-backing off of the accreditation of a larger private university, but they had big dreams and big promises and, most importantly, lots of scholarships. Their professors seemed lovely, they offered every student a private studio, and, best of all, it was in your home town. It checked off every one of your boxes and you eagerly awaited every step, from orientation, to dorm move-in day, to today.

Unfortunately, this much-anticipated day was not exactly off to a good start.

Your third alarm rings, and again you reach to shush it, content to keep snuggled up in your new bed, but your roommate’s voice stops you in your comfy tracks.

“Hey, don’t you have a 10AM?”

“Yeah, why?” you say groggily, voice hoarse from sleep.

“Uhm… It’s 9:45.”

You shoot straight up at this. “It’s 9:45?!”

She chuckles. “Yep. You can have the rest of the coffee in the pot I brought, but you’d better get up. It’s a five minute walk to the art building from here. I’m headed out… Good luck.” She smiles, grabbing her backpack and heading out the door.

Well, fuck.

You hop out of bed, quickly tossing your pillows and blankets into some form of order before throwing your closet open to dig out some clothes. You had hoped to dress up for your first day, but… Oops. Not enough time. After quickly throwing on your go-to outfit, something casual but better than the sweats and t-shirt you wore to bed, you brushed your hair and assessed yourself in the mirror. You sigh, looking at the clock before gasping in horror: 9:53.

You grab some coffee, throw some things and your backpack, and rush out the door, hoping to everything out there that you remember the directions correctly because boy, do you not have time to fuck up.

The moment that you not-so-smoothly rush into the classroom at no later than 9:59, you notice two things. The first is the woman you’re assuming is your professor’s disgruntled expression as she glances at you, probably displeased with the commotion, and the other- well, the other is something you can’t decide whether it’s a blessing or a curse.

There’s only one seat left.

One seat that just so happens to be at the front, next to the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen.

You give an awkward smile of apology to the professor, tucking you hair behind your ear as you duck your head down and rush to that one empty seat, avoiding eye contact with the boy seated next to you. From the brief look you’d gotten, he was definitely cute; his shaggy dark hair hung a bit into his eyes, his outfit well put-together, and his skin was the prettiest color you’d ever seen. To your comfort he pays you no mind, chatting away with the boy next to him. You quickly ruffle through your bag, fishing out a notebook and pen, nearly knocking your coffee off the table as you clumsily get situated.

The professor clears her throat. “It’s 10 o’clock, so I’ll get started.” She moves to the center of the room, standing in front of everyone and gesturing widely to the space. “Welcome to college, kids,” she smiles with a light laugh. “This is Survey One, Ancient to 14th Century. I hope you’re all in the right place. Let’s go ahead and get attendance out of the way.”

She moves to grab a clipboard, calling out names one by one and checking them off. You zone out a bit, fiddling with your pen in your notebook until you hear your name. You give a meek “present,” allowing your mind to wander again until you’re reminded of the boy next to you at his own announcement of presence. You allow yourself to steal a glance at him, eyes quickly scanning over his features before he can take notice. He really is beautiful… All perfectly proportioned features, pretty eyes, a cute freckle on his nose… You find yourself wishing you’d caught his name. Unbeknownst to you, you’ll know it before long.

The class carries on, with your professor handing out a syllabus and reading it to the class- the standard stuff, just academic policies and course grading standards, until she gets to the end. The big project, worth 20% of your course grade.

“This is a partner project,” she explains. “You’ll be researching patrimony- that is, in the art world, a sort of who-owns-what. I want you to find some important work of art that has been removed from its original owner, and, as a pair, take a stance on who it should belong to. You’ll be collaboratively making a presentation for the class. I’ll be partnering you now so you can get a head start.”

Your heart beats a little faster. She’ll be pairing you? Who with? You didn’t even get a chance to talk to anyone, although now is as good a time as ever, you suppose.

The professor begins walking along the front row, raising her hand to indicate the split in pairs as she goes. She motions to the two on the end farthest from you, gesturing to the right with a declaration of “You two,” before moving along and continuing the same.

Then, she stands in front of you and the pretty boy that you’ve been adamantly avoiding eye contact with, and, as your heart drops into your stomach, she gestures to the two of you before moving forward.

Your eyes must be the size of dinner plates when you finally look up at him, and god, is he a sight to see. His pretty brown eyes look right into yours with the cutest, friendliest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Guess it’s us, huh?” he says, and you have to take a moment to remember how to breathe.

“Mhm,” you say with fast nod and a nervous smile, “Guess it’s us.”

If you had known you’d be partnered up with a literal angel you would’ve at least taken the time to do your makeup, picked better clothes, done your hair, something-

“(Y/N), right?” he interrupts your thoughts, that adorable smile still on his face. You nod. “I’m Taehyung, nice to meet you.”

“ Taehyung,” you smile softly back. “Nice to meet you, too.” You mentally kick yourself, trying to think of something else to say, but the professor has finished her rounds and is back at the front. Taehyung nods to you, turning his attention away, and you do the same.

“That’s it for today,” the professor says, “Read chapters one through three for tonight, and start talking to your partner about topics. Your topic is due on Thursday, we begin real lecture tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of your first day.”

With that everyone sighs in relief and begins chattering, packing their bags. You stuff your own bag, grabbing your coffee and raising to leave, when you feel Taehyung’s hand gently tap your shoulder.

“Hey, wait,” he says, and you face him, taking notice of his height when he’s standing next to you. You’ve definitely got a new crush on this guy. “Wanna go to lunch with me?”

You almost choke. “Lunch?”

“Yeah, to talk about the project? We can go to the cafeteria and talk about it, are you busy?”

“No, I’m not…” You tuck your hair behind your ear again, fidgeting. Lunch? With a cute guy? On your first day? Maybe today wasn’t so unfortunate after all.

He beams at you, and you can’t help but smile back at how boxy his grin is.

“Great! Let’s go, then.” He gestures to the door. “After you.”

#my posts #my fics #bts imagines #bts fics #bts x reader #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #taehyung imagine #bts fanfiction #taehyung fluff

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