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sabraeal · 2 years

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Hey! I have been a long time fan of your work and I recently converted from being a long time lurker reader on ao3 to becoming a writer. Do you have any tips for new writers? Specifically about actions and dialogue. Whenever I try to write its always ends up being character study or introspection. Thank you!

Oh jeeze nonnie, you asked this forever ago and I'm sorry to have made you wait! First off, thank you for dropping into my inbox and saying hi! I love when people delurk to come talk to me! Second, let me try to give you so basic writing advice-- it may not work for everyone, but this is the way I tend to approach action & dialogue.

ACTIONS

I assume you don't mean big sprawling fight scenes but rather the little bits you sprinkle in scenes and between dialogue, so my best piece of advice is: draft. Sit down with a blank page and write the scene as you see it-- don't worry about getting every bit onto the paper, or it reading well. If you are going to throw a pot, you have to get clay on the wheel. Your first draft is all clay-- you want as much of your thoughts there as possible.

Second: read that draft. Think about all the things that don't quite work, or could be better elsewhere, or really need to be cleaned up. NOW start your second draft. This one is where you refine the concepts you set down before. I prefer to use a whole new word doc because I feel beholden to words already in front of me otherwise, but some people prefer to just tweak on the page...do whatever allows you to work best. No judgement.

There's a whole art to doing a second draft, but that's a lot to cover, so let's dial in to action. Here is where you want to refine the actions you've already written, and replace things like repetitive dialogue tags with something that does more heavy lifting. There are two rules to these minor actions:

They must have purpose

They must be interesting

It's best to remember is that lots of actions are implied, which means you don't have to describe the doing unless it's relevant. If two characters are walking somewhere and talking, you don't have to keep reminding the reader they are walking, unless some part of it is exceptional, or would provide development to their characters. Is one struggling to keep up? Are they winded? Do they have to take two steps to the other person's one? Or conversely, do they have to shorten their stride to make in comfortable? Do they have FEELINGS about it? All that is more interesting than saying "he said as they walked."

If you do have an action that must be described-- say someone has to walk across a room to get them in position for another action later, you don't want to say "She walked across the room." Do they saunter or creep? Are they going over there to do something in particular? Find the thing that readers will care about that action and dial in on that. Is you POV character crossing the room because they are having an EMOTION? Focus on that rather than the movement.

You also don't want to bog down sections with too much movement; when you go through your draft-- and also, your edits-- think about whether lines are necessary. The biggest mistake most people make in prose is not trusting the reader to pick up what you're putting down. Get away with as little blocking as you can, and let the reader fill in the small details.

DIALOGUE

The best advice I ever got for learning how to do dialogue is: listen to people. When I was in high school & college, I had a notebook where I wrote down stuff people said every day that was funny or meaningful, and I would look at how people said things, the small tics each speaker has, what bit of their voice sounded unique to me. It also helped a lot with understanding what made something a "ya had to be there" joke, and what actually stayed funny months after being written down.

When you first start to write a character, you want to think about what makes their voice unique. Word choice matters a lot in dialogue; some people have large vocabularies and use them, some people prefer to stick to more common words, and some use as few words as possible. You also want to avoid the Joss Whedon effect: everyone is equally quippy, and the few differences between their jokes are based on a few character traits. You want to think about whether someone would make a comment...and also how they would say it.

It's really easy in a comedy fic to try to keep the joke going by having every line parceled out the way you say it in your own head-- and in a first draft, you should let it happen! But in the second draft, slow down and ask if that's the way a joke or conversation would go with these characters. I've had some scenes I've loved in first draft that had to be all turned about because Shirayuki is truly a joke ruiner when it comes to timing...but also taking that into account can really elevate a scene. And just like in canon, it makes the times she does get her quips in even more funny.

#asks #writing advice #thank you so much nonnie i love talking about the craft #but it takes me forever because i have to pare everything down into information that makes sense #and isn't like #here is how you overhaul your whole thought process bye have fun #and honestly my biggest pieces of advice are always READ A LOT and DRAFT

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ratralsis · 1 year

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That's all there is of that story

And that was the end of that.

A couple of years ago, as part of my short story writing classes, before I started working on my novel in earnest, I actually did write a pair of extremely short (I think 400 or 500 words?) stories that were a sort of prequel and sequel. I might post those later, just to prove that there's no sense in writing any longer prequel or sequel story. The story's told. Kevin and Marigold met, spent a year together, fell in love, and probably got married way too young.

It was an exercise. A way to keep writing between drafts of the novel without working on the novel itself. I enjoyed writing it, for all its flaws.

Here's something I said to a friend of mine who read the previous version of this story and really didn't like it:

-----

The story is still what it was three years ago. Kevin barely has a character arc: he starts off with a lot of the autistic awkwardness that I have, and he ends with it, too. I don't know if he's actually autistic or even all that awkward. It could be that he comes off as insensitive or mean. The intent was to show that he doesn't know how to react when Marigold becomes emotional or distraught about discussing her past, so he just kind of freezes up and starts thinking hard about what the "right" thing is for him to do. That's me. That's what I do. His growth is that he learns to trust Marigold more and accept her for who she is, and make more compromises in his life to suit her needs. But I don't know if that's really much of an arc.

Marigold's arc is meant to be about how she starts off as a stereotypical beautiful manic pixie dream girl, and Kevin gradually comes to realize that it's a facade and a defense mechanism and that she's very emotionally fragile when she has to lower those defenses and be herself and let others get close to her.

There are parts I'm proud of and parts I'm not. But I still don't think it's good. I'm at that point in my creative development where I can read something like Peter S. Beagle's The Last Unicorn and see a sentence like "With a flap of her hand she summed herself up: barren face, desert eyes, and yellowing heart" and think, god DAMN but that is some incredible description, but there's a world of difference between being able to appreciate someone else's art and being able to make my own at that same level.

So I write a lot about facial expressions. People smile at each other a lot. They grin. They beam. They light up. They nod. They lean one way or another way. They bend down. Sit. Walk over. Move toward. At one point, Kevin pads his way up a flight of stairs. It's a limited vocabulary, because it's how I think. It's how my head works. Blame it on years of video games with limited verbs. "Walk" is a solid verb to describe a character moving from one area to another. But nobody "ambles" or "strolls" or "leisurely makes their way" anywhere. Maybe they should.

This story was an exercise. A bit of practice between rewrites of my novel, which I find myself hating more and more with each draft and each pair of eyes that reads it.

Hopefully, you find at least a little enjoyment in it. I'm glad I wrote it, and I had some things in it that I very badly wanted to say (that loving someone is a choice you have to make every day, that loving someone and trusting them are two very different things, that trusting someone is a painful thing, that family means more than who your biological parents were, that anything can be forgiven, and that violins look like ukuleles to the untrained eye), but I'm not so vain as to think "I meant well" and "I did well" are the same thing.

-----

That about sums it up, I think.

But, as I said before I started posting any of it, I'm happy to answer any questions if anybody has any. I can say that with such confidence because I don't expect anybody to ask me anything.

That's not reverse psychology where I'm daring you to ask me something. It's just good old-fashioned self-deprecation.

#ratralsis writing #ratralsis strings

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garrulousgeologist · 1 year

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> Kells: Just loose it.

My mental health completely fell apart after I started reading Homestuck.

Not clickbait.

I did not even turn my computer on for the past several days, amongst many other not coping mechanisms. I won’t be reading Homestuck from the website on my phone I'm not an animal.

(That is in fact how I read most of Homestuck as it was actively posted to the mspaintadventures website from the ages of 15-18. Although back then it was on my ipod touch, I didn’t have a smartphone yet).

So, my continued re-read had to wait. For anyone following my journey- I’m a complete mess. If I disappear for long stints just don’t worry about it I always come back. My personal goal is one page of Homestuck every week. That’s it. A goal I (might) be able to reach. This week I managed to get myself to my desk Saturday evening! Right in the nick of time. When will I post this? Only you know that! And me in the future but not the past/present me writing this now (pack it up, Karkat).

Alright fuck even I want to tell me to stfu. Here’s the actual reflection:

ROSE 💜

She’s trying just as hard as I was at her age. She’ll figure it out.

She was definitely my favorite in the past. The Lalondes hold a very special place in my heart, I think they always will. My actual mother is still Mamalonde in my phone to this day and I have no intention of changing that.

Homestuck taught me a lot of vocabulary back when I first read it. I definitely remember still feeling like I was missing information even after googling what I could (words, concepts, the perspective of someone older than 15). I wondered when I started this re-read if I would see any words I had to look up like I did in high school.

Of course. Of course, who else to bring me to this but Rose Lalonde.

What the fuck is [sic]. I doubt either rose or rox would be using the colloquial ‘sick’ to describe the item. So I googled it.

Now I know. (Also, hi Roxy girl, I can’t wait to get to you ♥ )

[S] John: Take bite of apple. ==> End of Act 1.

Oh. Huh. I guess we get more of Rose later. I thought I remembered way more of her before the end of act 1, but alas, I’ll have to get back to loving everything about her later.

Now it’s time for..

Oh. We’re back now. So I didn’t forget, I’m just conditioned to think intermissions are long as fuck. Okay then Wayward Vagabond, I’ll have to get back to loving everything about you later. Back to Rose!

Uh. . . .

Yes, right right, I knew that. -ahem-

What’s next? Oh god, the kernel.

Now what in the fresh fluorescent hell does THAT mean (any tips, eidolonyaldaboath?). Again, on the surface I can see with my eyes what happened. The kernel wasn’t one cohesive thing to begin with, it was a..sprite thing, combined with two other things in its environment. And now its split into three again, okay, okay, I can follow that I think. The sprite is transformed once the apple is bitten into, or, once the world is destroyed and the players make it past the meteor shower/are isekai’d into the game, kind of. This I can accept, and the two kernel halves become catalysts for, uh, whatever they become catalysts for.

Anyway, what is left is still part giant jester plushy. I’m straining my memory so hard to remember where the other parts go. What’s below John’s house?? What’s above?? I can’t remember! So we’re gonna ignore it for now.

In favor of a FLASH GAME!! WOOOO HELL YEAH this is the experience I remember!!!

Eternal thank yous to Alexis ‘Gankro’ Beingessner for programming this recreation, it is outstanding. I truly cannot wait for one of the most memorable experiences I had reading Homestuck originally- walking around the land of wind and shade and playing with the salamanders and hearing their stories. I don’t know if the same person will have programmed it but this initial peek into how true to history the unofficial Homestuck collection experience is has made me soooo hype.

Welcome Nanasprite!! Hoo hoo!

Surely this won’t become relevant in the future. Speaking of the future, all the text cap commands made me think of Karkat automatically, but now that I’ve seen the wayward vagabond twice already, KK has most definitely not gotten in contact with John yet (from johns so-far linear perspective). It’s the fucking mayor! Big fan of that guy. Anyway I just figured that out lmao.

Alright, let’s talk about the latent racism in Homestuck for a moment. It feels too weird to ignore it, but I kind of also don’t want to focus on it, nor do I want to gloss it over, so I’m giving the concept of 2015 internet latent racism a moment here before we move on:

The human characters in Homestuck are all meant to be blank canvases that you could project any skin tone, ethnicity, and any specific facial or body features onto. They don’t have voices, so accents and languages I feel are also totally up to the audience! This much is pretty widely embraced in the fandom, I think. With this in mind, much of the language used by Dave for example might be easily excused if you decide he is a young black kid.

However, the author is white. And Hussie wrote these things, and some of it definitely feels off. Like “an especially ethnic wedding”. This doesn’t feel like it’s based on respect and experience. All the Obama jokes- many of which are fine and hilarious, many of which are not fine or funny, and some of which are disrespectful and also hilarious- stand out in 2023. While the internet was a different place and language evolves at lightning speed, as someone who read it at a young age while it was being actively written and posted: It felt uncomfortable in 2015, too.

That’s all I really want to say. I’ll hold space for the uncomfortable feeling some of these lines create, without overshadowing the rest of the story. It sure does make the genius of this webcomic a whole lot more human, though.

Tone shift:

Oh? Interesting. Surely this won’t become relevant in the future.

Remember when I said I’d talk more about the game (SBURB in this case) choosing children to receive copies and attempt a session? When that happens horrorterrors are involved, so I’ll expand on them there, too.

Holy shit! I had no idea the window thing was planted so early! This is the kind of re-read revelation I wanted.

“April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.” -American sports legend, Charles Barkley

[T.S. Elliot said that.]

Also, still topical. Good thing I got back to this before April was completely over.

Yooo, D-O-Double-G!

Wait. Is that long time fan favorite, David Elizabeth Strider?

Yes.

Hell Yes.

Hell Fucking Yes.

tl;dr

Never expect consistency from Kells. Kells very much enjoys Rose <3 but is still learning her level of vocabulary. The secrets of the kernelsprite continue to elude Kells. [Interlude to acknowledge problematic source content]. Many things happen that will surely not be significantly relevant in the future.

#post 4 #homestuck #homestuck reread #homestuck liveblog #rose lalonde #dave strider #snoop dogg #kernelsprite

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strongsadapologist · 6 months

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StrongSadApologist Intro Post (New And Improved!)

(WIP updating somewhat frequently, for as long as I remember to update it. Fancy drawings to be added eventually!)

Basic Information:

Name: Dignan/Kenny Bismol

Pronouns: It/its or it/he, usually depending on mood

Labels: Rabid Fictoromantic

Birthday: January 3rd (19)

Current fixation (the biggest thing I won't shut up about): Homestar Runner

Lesser interests (some other things i really like, but am willing to shut up about): Aqua Teen Hunger Force, Baldi's Basics, Smiling Friends

Dormant interests (things I've fixated on before and am likely to return to if someone gets me back into it): Two More Eggs, UNDERTALE, The Stanley Parable, Garten Of Banban, Apple & Onion

Additional Notes:

I understand not every trans person is okay with people using it/its, so if you're trans and uncomfortable using it/its for me, feel free to use he/him exclusively!

I am a very big self-shipper! My F/Os are subject (and likely) to change depending on whatever I'm fixating on, but currently my biggest one is my OC/supervillain persona Yoinky and Strong Sad from Homestar Runner (if my username didn't already give that away, haha)! So, uh, I guess don't follow if you're uncomfy with any of that! I fully understand!

My blog will be SFW in terms of actual content, but I do swear sometimes (and sometimes often)! It's become a normal part of my vocabulary, so I usually don't even think about it; if this is an issue for you, please let me know and I'll make sure to watch my mouth (keyboard?) if talking to you directly!

I'm open to art requests being asked for alongside questions, but I'm still trying to get back into drawing regularly after a long period of not doing it, so it'll probably be a while before I do them consistently. But if you see something in my interests that we share and you want art of, feel free to ask! I'm more likely to do art of my interests but am open to just about anything!

I also write sometimes, and I mostly do either fanfiction or a mix of characters I like existing in a universe with my own OCs! I probably won't talk about my writing as often, as I'm not as open with sharing it, but I may occasionally share art pieces that correlate with my stories!

I might be potentially open to writing requests? But that feels slightly more complicated/easier to mess up, so I guess it's more case-by-case.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy and have a great rest of your day/night/now!

#pinned intro

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lorei-writes · 11 months

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Hello I hope sincerely not to bother you with my question 🙏🙈 but I want to let you know I adore your writing style and also your drawings they are so rich of details 😍😍 and this led me to this How did you learnt to draw ? Do you have any advice you feel like giving regarding drawing and writing too ? Any book blog channel that helped you find your own drawing style that may be useful ? Thank you so much for the patience 🤗 Have a wonderful day 😘

Hi, Julie!

I'm really flattered you think that way! Thank you!

Since you've asked about drawing and writing both, let's split it up. I'm not sure whether you'll find anything of it useful, so allow me to try and make it more universal.

Basic Writing Advice from the perspective of a non-native language speaker

English being somebody's second (third, fourth, etc.) language naturally influences how they wield it.

First of all, my personal priority is to ensure that the reader can understand me. The primary focus is grammar, even at the expense of embellishments. The most beautiful word soup is still just a word soup, not a story. Work on vocabulary alongside it.

Solid foundations are a must. I'd suggest adding on top of them only after that is more or less covered.

This connects to perhaps a rather controversial point: Comments saying that your work is good do not necessarily need to match the actual state of affairs.

Fandom has a specific comment culture (that is another topic I am not even touching). You do not express feedback in public comments.

If you want for somebody to be absolutely honest with you? The person you need is a skilled and reliable beta-reader. Somebody who will act with your benefit in mind, who understands how to deliver constructive criticism, and who will not hesitate to share their mind. "Great" is not useful when you want to improve.

Establish your boundaries (what would you like to receive feedback on, etc.) and what should be the preferred work mode for you both. Ready yourself for criticism, but also remember that you can't do everything all at once. That is fine. One step at a time.

Now, regarding vocabulary, because this is something I'm personally trying to improve: read, but read with intent. Even if you can gloss over words that you aren't exactly familiar with, do not do it. Go back to them, translate them, underline them. Every. Single. Time. Check how to pronounce them. Repeat until they're stored in your memory.

Similarly, if you see an interesting sentence? ANALYSE IT. Look at the tenses, at its structure, dissect it until you can tell you know why it works, why it hit you. Pay attention to punctuation!

I'd say one may develop their natural writing style as they learn and simply discover all the new tools and techniques. Being open to experimentation and challenges may be the key.

Drawing Advice (? Am I even qualified to give that?)

I am not sure whether I am qualified to speak much on the matter, but you've asked, so you must find some sort of worth in my works. And that is enough. So!

First of all, use references. There's no shame in that. Again, good foundations make for good results -- work on your ability to sketch first. In my experience, colour and rendering tends to highlight all the places in which the sketch was wonky.

That is likely rather obvious, but all objects can be broken down into simpler geometric figures/shapes. Practise it! Make lots of sketches, complete and incomplete ones. Look up the basic proportions for human body. Work with them, with anatomy, make marks on top of pictures to see how body parts work together; essentially, build up a data base.

Try different tools, however, remember not to assume that "grass is greener somewhere else". All things take practise. If you constantly switch between different mediums, how are you to ever become skilled in any particular one?

About me and my style... Well, I've started learning to draw in 2014-ish, although I did draw before then. I would do traditional art, after some time (years? I don't remember) I was drawin realistic portraits. (I was aiming for photorealism and I suppose I took some steps in that direction). I did mostly pencil sketches, however, I would also doodle with markers and later introduced coloured pencils. I enjoyed painting with acrylic paints, but never gained much experience in it.

Due to health reasons, I had to quit drawing in 2019. It wasn't certain whether I'd be allowed to ever pick it up again, but I was able to resume it in summer 2022. I've been slowly relearning things ever since while also expanding on some of them. Very. Slowly.

All that considered, I'd say style is very much a journey. There's no rushing it. See what you enjoy seeing, what works for you, what speaks to you, what you enjoy doing, and try to go in that direction. But how? I don't know. I'm a noob.

Oh, and if you want to learn things about colour theory, I think Saki from @wordycheeseblob may be the person to approach.

#answered #queengiuliettafirstlady

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johnhardinsawyer · 1 year

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The Blessings of Not Letting Go

John Sawyer

Bedford Presbyterian Church

9 / 24 / 23 – Narrative Lectionary – 203

Genesis 32:9-13, 22-31

Psalm 96:7-13

“The Blessings of Not Letting Go”

(Living Discipleship # 3 – Weekly Worship)

Jacob knows that God is out there, that God has a special purpose for him, but tonight, he is wrestling – just like most of us do. Years ago, Jacob had run away from his angry brother Esau and their confused and disappointed father, Isaac. Years ago, on a lonely night in the wilderness, Jacob had a dream – a vision of God’s glory and blessing. He is wrestling with his fears and deep longing for home, with his family legacy and his need for reconciliation. Jacob is wrestling with faith in the God who loves him – the God who has called him to do a hard thing. And in all of his spiritual wrestling about his past, present, and future, Jacob wonders, “Will God show up?”

I was talking with a friend a few weeks ago who was thinking about a way to give their child some kind of knowledge about God and/or religion. “Would something like Sunday School be good for my child?” they asked. “Yes,” I said, “at our church or some other church, wherever you feel comfortable,” (though I could kind of tell that they did not feel very comfortable with the idea of coming to church . . . at least not quite yet). After thinking about it, I said, “Look, in some ways, learning about God or religion is kind of like learning math. If you’re not exposed to it, you won’t be able to learn much on your own. If, however, you are exposed to it enough, you might just start to understand it a little and begin to see its value.”

Now, when it comes to evangelism, the “Learning-about-God-is-kind-of-like- learning-about-math” approach is not going to win me any awards – especially among those who don’t really like the idea of God or math. But what I was awkwardly trying to get across while standing on the soccer field while our kids had practice was the idea that the only way to learn some things is to actually try to learn those things. And, just like we might get some sense of math in a vacuum – in that most of us have ten fingers and ten toes and might just figure out how to count with them – we might also get some sense of God – in that our bodies, and the world we live in, and the wonders of love, and a sense of purpose in our lives are wrapped up in and shot through with mystery and wonder. Real knowledge, though, means coming into regular contact with that which we do not know so that it can become more known to us. Real knowledge means making ourselves available to that which is already available.

Last week, we spent some time thinking about prayer and I said that regular sustained interactions are often best in developing any kind of relationship. Regular and sustained contact with God – through prayer – is part of developing a relationship with God. To go to God in prayer on a daily basis increases our spiritual vocabulary and our openness to the One who draws close to us, offering grace upon grace.

The same can be said of worship – regular worship. In the book Real Faith for Real Life, the book upon which we are basing this sermon series, Lutheran pastor Michael W. Foss writes that there was a time in his life when he was going through a very hard time – but one day in worship, he experienced a feeling of gratitude so profound, so remarkable that he felt blessed. As Foss writes:

It was a touch of God, and I knew that worship was not about what I could do or how well I could do it. Worship is the coming of God [into our midst]. In the midst of the Scripture reading, the preaching, and singing God shows up. In worship, people who long to connect with the Spirit can heal their heart’s hunger.[1]

When it comes to God showing up in worship and feelings of deep and profound gratitude and blessing, I’m going to be honest and say that you and I might not “feel all the feels” every week in worship. When I was in college, I regularly attended the Baptist Student Union (the BSU) which met in the University Chapel. And I’m going to be honest, probably seven or eight out of ten times that I went to the BSU, I didn’t get much out of it. But two or three out of ten times, I was moved by something that I heard: some message of good news, some lyrics to a song we sang, some act of friendship or connection with another person. And I left, changed – blessed – because I felt that God had somehow shown up. Now, the following week – or three – at the BSU meeting might have been a total spiritual bust, but I knew the Holy feeling I had encountered and I knew it was in there, somewhere, with those people in that darkened college chapel – waiting for me to come back, looking for it.

Friends, you and I can go to church week-in-and-week-out and run into the same thing. We might know that something is here – in this place, with these people, in the act of worship – but we might not always “feel” it. The problem is that most people I know don’t have the patience or think that they have the time to have one spiritual bust, much less seven in a row. Most people might give church a chance a time or two, but after that . . . well . . . Is it worth it if I’m not getting anything out of it the times that I am able to show up?

This is the difficult spot that church often finds itself in. High stakes! It means that we need to take how we welcome other people, and the level of excellence that we seek to offer in our worship, and the ways that we create an environment for spiritual flourishing very seriously. It’s an almost impossible task in this day and age when growing in faith and in the knowledge of God takes a lifetime but not every lesson is going to “land” in people’s minds, and hearts, and souls every time.

Thankfully, though, God is able – in our worship – to do what we are unable to do. It helps when we, as a church, come to worship and offer our best, but even when our worship might be a spiritual bust for some, God still shows up for others. How many times have I stepped down from the pulpit, thinking that I preached a dog of a sermon, only to find that someone somehow heard a good word from God in a place – a pause or a paragraph – where my own limited imagination could not conceive of God actually showing up?

I guess since today’s topic is about “Weekly Worship,” the question should be asked, “If God is showing up in worship, does this mean that we should, too? Every week?” I usually encounter at least three barriers to this idea. . .

Sometimes, I’ll run into people in the grocery store – people I know from church. And, maybe I haven’t seen them in church for a while, but it sure is good to see them wherever I might see them. Instead of being able to start the conversation by saying, “Oh, it sure is good to see you!” usually they will start the conversation by saying, “Ugh! I feel so guilty for not coming to church.” Friends, if guilt is the first thing you feel when you see your pastor, please know that I don’t want to be that kind of pastor.

There’s also the argument of, “Well, I’m worshiping God when I go on a hike, or to the beach, or make that first perfect golf swing of the day,” to which Michael Foss writes,

I love the out of doors as much as you do, but just worshiping God out here isn’t enough. . . If worship is God’s gift to us to satisfy the hunger in the human soul, then there is an eternal purpose to worshiping with others in church. In fact, the Bible tells us that we honor God when we worship God in the company of the saints. In the Bible, there is no calling to any individual that doesn’t lead that person into community. Christian faith is deeply personal, but never private. We honor God when we worship with others in church.[2]

There is one other argument – that Sunday mornings are already taken up by other obligations: kids sports, care for a loved-one, or some form of self-care. I get it. I really do. And I’m not trying to guilt anyone into anything (remember, I’m not that kind of pastor). But I do want to encourage regular interactions with the Holy – in prayer over a meal, watching church online for a season, reading scripture with someone else, finding deeper meaning in community. I wonder if there are ways of taking our worship and our spiritual community beyond these walls to meet people where they are – on the ballfield, on the hiking trail, in an elder-care facility, or a coffee shop, or wherever God’s people may be. Worship is not so much an obligation – just one more thing to do. Instead, it is a privilege. And, if we can’t be present in body, if we can be present in spirit, open to the Holy – in some way, large or small – then we might just be changed, and comforted, and challenged, and blessed. And isn’t this what we want. . . what we need from God?

In today’s reading from Genesis, we find Jacob – all alone and worried. He has sent his family and everything he owns into an unknown future across a river and he is left waiting alone in the dark. But he’s not really alone – none of us are ever really alone. Suddenly, in the night, Jacob encounters a man who wrestles with him until daybreak. I love how in the original language, the word “wrestle,” here, literally means, “they got dusty.”[3] But Jacob – somehow knowing that in this wrestling match there is something mysterious, maybe even Holy, going on – says, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.” (Genesis 32:26)

“I will not stop wrestling – I will not let you go – until I am blessed.” Could there be a more apt way of describing what a real relationship with God is like? It might not “happen” for us every week in worship, or in every prayer we utter with our lips, or in every act we try to do for the glory of God, but what if we didn’t stop showing up, didn’t stop praying, didn’t stop making ourselves available to be used for good by God, didn’t stop wrestling with God until we walked away being blessed?

We, who are God-made, God-breathed, from the dust would be wise to remember that our encounters with the Holy might just challenge us and change us and bless us – even if we walk away dusty and limping, like Jacob does in today’s story. What matters is that we have had an encounter with the Holy in a way that cannot be captured in any other way except simply being present in the moment with other people who are also dusty and wrestling. This is worship. And regular worship – maybe even weekly, or daily worship – increases our chances of being blessed or, at the very least, reminded of just how blessed we are. Not letting go of the possibility – the hope – that we will encounter God might just open our minds and hearts and spirits to just such an encounter.

May we never let go of our hope in God, may we never let go of making ourselves open and available – present – to encountering the Holy. And – in our not letting go – may we be blessed.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

-------

[1] Michael W. Foss, Real Faith for Real Life: Living the Six Marks of Discipleship (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2004) 39. [Brackets for clarity by JHS.]

[2] Michael W. Foss, 45-46.

[3] F. Brown, S. Driver, and C. Briggs, The Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon (Peabody: Hendrickson Publishers, Inc.) 7.

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absolutebl · 2 years

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Hi, i have been bingeing on all your and i absolutely love reading about the BL world from your perspective, I have learned quite a bit from your posts.

I just want to share some of my thoughts and pick your brain on some things I would like to understand.

Started watching BLs about a year ago and I mostly stuck to the few korean BLs that were available and also some stuff from Taiwan and the Chinese bromances. I know Thailand dominates the BL industry but when I first started watching i kinda avoided because (a) their language kind of throws me off, I don't know if this is offensive but it is something i struggled with during the first few shows and even now that I am used to it I still need time to adjust every time I start a new video. Thai is very different from korean, japanese, and chinese which I am very comfortable with.

The second reason I hesitated (this part is where the actual ask is) was their acting style. Now, I am not a professional who can give any criticism on these stuff, my opinions are based on personal taste and observations.

My main ask is that do you think acting styles change based on culture, like a lot of thai BLs tend to favor the slapstick comedy. Because of that their reactions and emotions tend to be exaggerated (I don't mean this in a negative way, just the only description I could think of.) I have seen a lot of subtle and great acting and emoting from them but kind of big way of showing emotions tend to remain.

I don't know if that made any sense, my thoughts are not translating well at all. Any way i hope you get what I am trying to get at.

Have a nice day🤗🤗

Ooo, what an interesting question and lots to unpack.

I’m not going to turn this into a proper blog post just going to ramble.

I do go into language barriers in the BL producing countries a little here. BL Breakdowns by Country

Struggling with Thai Language

I actually really do understand this. It will depend on your native language, but it will certainly influence your enjoyment. I recommend studying the language a little and learning about it from a kind of cultural mathematical perspective, it makes it a lot more fun and interesting (and you’ll get the humor).

Here’s my linguistic starter post on Thai for BL watchers.

It always helps me become sympathetic when I become intellectually curious about soemthing, anyway.

So my brain is mostly southern British English trained (not so flat as American) plus a little Spanish. But I hear Thai as very tonal and occasionally quite high and screechy and full of ticks (repeated words) because of the polite particles. It took me about a year of continued exposure to just not hear all that anymore, partly because I was training my brain to translate and understand it.

Here’s my brain’s emotional relationships...

I really struggle with Mandarin, it all sounds very much the same to me, the words seem to run together. This is how I feel about French too.

On the flip side I find Korean extremely enjoyable and sexy, I don’t understand most of it, but I like listening to it a lot. This is also how I feel about Italian.

Both German and Russian always sound angry to me.

Most of the Scandinavian languages seem just comfortable and fun and friendly (and sometimes a little silly). (I grew up around a couple of these, in part.)

Japanese when spoken by men just seems preternaturally low in the chest, and when spoken by women too cute and girly. But then sometimes I just kinda like the way it rolls off the tongue, and a lot of the repeated sayings and politeness just sound adorable to me.

Vietnamese sounds very sad to me, almsot like a dirge.

When I turn off the part of my brain, or try to, or have been living in a place where I’ve stopped hearing English on a daily basis, I think English is (most of the time) a very ugly language: chaotic and non-formulaic, sometimes a little brutal sounding. But I love its flexibility and breath of vocabulary and nuance, especially for writing. (Obvs)

All of this is because of the culture and language of my various upbringings, also music tonality. What makes your trained happy music or sad music influences what we hear as happy, sad, aggravating, calming. How we express questioning, excitement, enthusiasm. Spacers and filler words (like um) and breath pauses. Body language (how close we stand when talking to each other). Facial expressions. All of this is going to impact your immersion in a different society’s pup culture and performance style from a linguistic perspective.

So I guess what I am say is, it is possible to get over, if you sort of flex your brain a bit in a new way.

Thai Acting Style

So (now) Korea film style is the most western influenced of the ones you talked about, with Taiwan and the Philippines following up. China is a little more reserved in many ways, and very married to 4 act structure, which can make it feel over long and narratively off-beat to a western audience. I’m not sure where your film consumption background is coming from, but if you like the Wuxia bromances (like Untamed etc) but can also take the Korean short form BLs, my guess would be you’re coming out of sf/f fandom of some kind with a tolerance for epics but also shorts.

You don’t talk about Japanese cinema, which is an interesting case (and most geeks having passing familairty with). It is the one that bridges the gap between the pretty atmospheric stuff, dark themes, but also some serious slap stick and pantomime action, which I suspect is what is turning you off of Thai BL. You might explore some of their stuff.

I talk about it here, the weeds of Japanese filming style in a not entirely flattering manner.

Also here in a history of live action yaoi in Japan

And here is something all about their (and BLs) darker traditions

You could try something like Cherry Magic, which combines softness and sweetness with slapstick, but isn’t quite as in your face a soem of the others. If that’s too much, try Restart After Come Back Home, His the movie, Life: Love on the Line, Old Fashion Cupcake, and Seven Days. All of these avoid the panto style over-acting and sound effects that are the biggest turn offs for most western audiences

So for both Japan and Thailand the love of pratfall, or physical comedy humor comes from their local historical theatrical traditions and variety shows. This can be seen by those of use who did not grow up with is as: childish, scenery chewing, or over-acting.

The addiction to carton sound effects, triple shots (where they repeat the same action from multiple angles, especially around intimacy) mostly comes from anime/cartoons which were tailored to the adult market for much longer historically in most of Asia. (If you think about the British pantomime tradition you will realize that many European countries do have this style of acting, it’s just been confined to the children’s sphere). Although there’s also American soap operas and movie comedies (like Bridesmaids, for example) or Spanish telenovelas that are very scenery chewing.

What you’re probubly responding negatively to is in part a slight feel of being talked down too, or catered to, or spoon fed (emotions, acting, expression, sound) as if you were a child. I still feel this sometimes. Equally, I get annoyed by the sexual restraint that then is coupled to this style, in Japan in particular, which also makes the romance feel downplayed. But that’s my upbringing rearing its head. And, like any other cultural tradition, you will either grow used to it after continued exposure, or just never learn to enjoy the taste. There are some flavors that are harder than others to adapt too if you don’t grow up with them, whether food, language, performance, or music.

That said, there are some Thai BLs that are a lot more gritty and serious, with more subtle and nuanced acting, especially now. Here’s some I think you might particularly be able to tolerate:

Not Me

Manner of Death

3 Will Be Free

He’s Coming To Me

Tale of Thousand Stars

I Told Sunset About You

Love Sick (actually I’d be intersted in your take on this one)

And *maybe*

SOTUS

Bad Buddy

My Ride

Until We Meet Again

Love By Chance

Also you might like Pinoy BL Like in the Movies.

(source)

#thai bl #thai langage #thai acting #asian cinema #chinese bl #korean bl #japanese bl #taiwanese bl #Not Me the series #Manner of Death #3 Will Be Free #He’s Coming To Me #Tale of Thousand Stars #I Told Sunset About You #Love Sick #asked and answered #just rambling #Until We Meet Again #love by chance

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themultilanguagenerd · 2 years

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Anime for Learning Japanese Recs

Chances are if you’re learning Japanese, one of your motivators is being able to enjoy Japanese media like anime and understand it completely. And while some people might argue against using anime as a tool to learn anime, I say it actually is a great tool to use for shadowing and listening practice IF you use the right series (and don’t entirely rely on anime alone).

My biggest pro tip would be avoid using extremely action/fantasy-oriented anime like Jujutsu Kaisen, Naruto or even Boku no Hero Aacdemia. I’m not saying to you shouldn’t watch them, but I am saying that those aren’t anime to watch for studying. Those are more like entertainment anime. Nice as those anime are, a good portion of the vocabulary wouldn’t exactly be... useful. Trust me, unless you’re talking about the show specifically with friends, ‘cursed energy’ and ‘illusion techniques’ are the last words you should be learning lol.

So I will be supplying a list of anime I enjoy and think would be great tools for aiding your journey learning the Japanese language.

Fruits Basket 2019・フルーツバスケット

Long long ago, God decided to throw a festival extending an invite to distinct creatures of the land. However, the trickster Rat lied to the Cat that the festival would be taking place the day after the intended date. The next day the Rat, the Ox, the Tiger and so on all arrived to attend God’s festivalー all except the Cat who had been tricked. Fast forward to present day Japan and high schooler Tohru Honda finds herself in a particular predicament when, through a series of events, she finds herself living with two boys her age Yuki and Kyo Sohma. The catch? Whenever embraced by the opposite sex, they, along with ten other members of the Sohma Clan, turn into one of the twelve zodiac animals.

Fruits Basket is one of my favorite series of all time, it’s literally in my top 3 anime/manga of all times. It was the first manga I read back in the early 2000s as a little kid, the 2001 anime garnered a huge fanbase, it just has a special place in my heart. It might like look like a typical love triangle series with a bland protagonist and equally bland love interests where she plays ‘which personality do I like the most’, but Fruits Basket is definitely not that. Character journeys are non-linear, the good and bad lovely and messy parts of relationships are depicted and even side characters are given justice and arcs. Despite its whimsical summary, however, Fruits Basket is a story about abuse, trauma and healing and may be triggering for some. But I assure you, Furuba handles the topic abuse with so much respect and grace and deserves every praise it receives as a character-driven story. (There is a 2001 adaptation but it isn’t entirely faithful to the manga so I recommend watching the 2019 remake first.)

Note: Despite being an early 2000s series, Furuba’s remake was adapted to modern day with smart phones and the like so outdated language isn’t really a problem. You’ll actually be getting a good mixture of formal and informal speech throughout the show thanks to our protagonist, Tohru. Contrast to the rest of the cast, Tohru consistently speaks using keigo ー a quirk pointed out by the rest of cast. So if you’re trying to work on formal speech, Tohru will be a useful character to pay attention to.

NANA・ナナ

Nana Komatsu is a naïve 20 year old with a penchant for easily falling in love at first sight. Nana Osaki is a jaded 20 year old polishing the shards of her dream to become a successful rock musician. These two young women are as different as different gets and yet they find their worlds colliding after fate brings them together on a one-way train ride to Tokyo. Once they find themselves rooming together in apartment number 707, it is clear both Nanas are in for the journey of a lifetime.

One of the most underrated josei anime of all time and another 1 of my top 3 series of all time. The characters? Amazing. The music? Ten out of ten. The Nanas have such great chemistry and both are equally amazing. Nana can be a bit to real when it comes to emotions, messy relationships and everything in between so it can be extremely personal, especially if you are in the same age demographic as the the main cast. I also have a fun little anecdote about how I share birthdays with Olivia Lufkin who provides the singing voice for the character Reira and we exchanged birthday DMs, this series is literally everything to me. If more people come to learn about it and love it through language learning, the better!

Note: NANA takes place in around the early 2000s so things like slang might be a little outdated but you’ll hear plenty of casual speech in order to talk with friends

Given・ギヴン

High schooler Ritsuka Uenoyama has a simple plan: tolerate school and rock out with his band. But a wrench is thrown into the cogs after he encounters fellow student Mafuyu Sato, a quiet boy who constantly carries around a guitar case. Weird as he is though, the kid has some pipes. Upon asking Mafuyu to join the band though, Ritsuka finds himself annoyed and stumped when the guy says ‘no thanks, not interested’.

Honestly my favorite quirk of this series is how each of the for protagonists has a kanji for one of the four seasons in their names 冬, 夏, 春 and 秋. Given is a lovely series to watch with gay and bi characters and encouraging message surrounding coming to terms with one’s sexuality. This anime does have light suicide mentions as Mafuyu’s previous boyfriend committed suicide prior to the beginning of the series, so I would like for that to be open so no one is taken aback by it. And if you’re looking for a series centered around a queer cast with a splash of music, this is the series for you.

Asobi Asobase・あそびあそばせ

Enter Olivia, an American raised in Japan who can’t speak English. Enter Kasumi who, in spite of her seemingly intellectual appearance, is absolutely trash when it comes to her English class. Then enter Hanako, an intellectual student with decent athletic skills who literally just wants to be popular. Somehow, they end up creating a club together. What kind of club? One centered around learning fun past times and hand games.

Pure chaos and girls being girls the anime, that’s it send tweet. There’s honestly not much more I can say about it, but if you’re looking for a light-hearted watch to accompany your learning this is it right here.

Aria the Animation・ARIA

In the hopes of becoming a certified gondolier, young Akari Mizunashi decides to leave her home on Earth and travel to the new blue planet of Mars to live on Neo-Venezia. Along the way, she meets other apprentices hoping for the same thing and they all train hard in order to accomplish their goals of becoming Primas.

A wholesome and slow series to use to learn Japanese that I loved watching as a kid. Aria actually have several series with the main three, in order being Aria the Animation, Aria the Natural and Aria the Origination. I recommend giving this show a watch! Each episode is its own adventure while following the overarching story of the three protagonists establishing themselves in their chosen career paths. The animation is lovely and so is the music, so I’d give this underrated classic a watch for your studies.

Carole and Tuesday・キャロル&チューズデイ

Carole is an orphan from Earth. Tuesday is a Mars native who runs away from home to escape her stuffy and sheltered rich life. The one thing they have in common? Their desire to create music and after meeting during one of Carole’s impromptu street performances, they realize that their talents combined will get them a lot farther than if they tried being solo artists.

Another music series but with some light science fiction elements since, like the previous recommendation, C&T takes place on terraformed Mars. And all things considered, C&T is a pretty diverse show with characters of different ethnicities all over and even one of the main characters being a black teen. So if you’re really looking to have some diverse cast members in your anime, give this anime a shot.

If you end up watching any of these series, definitely let me know what you think about them and if they were useful for you! さようなら！

#langblr #studyblr #japanese #japanese langblr #language tips #study tips #listening practice #shadowing #fruits basket #NANA #given #asobi asobase #aria the animation #carole and tuesday #carole & tuesday

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steelycunt · 2 years

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hi!! i love your writing style so so much. do you have any tips??? thanks<33

hii darling!! ok ill be honest i have been staring at this in my inbox all day. firstly thank u so much!! i would never ever claim to b in any position to give writing advice to anybody because i never, ever know what i'm doing, but i will do the best i can!! sorry if this becomes a little generic :-)

-> very generic, i know, but!! reading really is so so important. like i know everyone says it, but that's because its true!! read fic by writers whose style you admire, read published literature by writers whose style you admire, because the more u do that the more u will pick up on why you think certain techniques/styles are so effective, u will be exposed to more techniques, u will expand your vocabulary, and all of that impacts ur writing!! have said this b4 but my style is 100% just a hastily patched together quilt of every writer's style that i've ever enjoyed. the same goes for writing honestly in as much as: both reading and writing consistently makes you a better writer. its inevitable!!

-> something i try to keep in mind a lot when im writing is the details in a scene!! and this comes purely down to personal choice and style, but i find it makes my scenes n settings a lot more vivid. just, like, the brief inclusion of small details about a scene, like a prop or something in the background. just little marks of humanity, even if they aren't massively relevant...they can also be very useful to reflect a character's mood/personality or heighten the atmosphere in a scene :-) using all the senses and bending language n metaphors n imagery...i think one of george orwell's writing tips was never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print, and i am no george orwell and i definitely break that rule more than i want to but i think it's a good aim to keep in mind :-)

-> everyone edits differently but i find redrafting from scratch sooo vital. which again is probably quite basic advice but honestly its such an important part of my writing process i cannot emphasize it enough hjahcjgdfsdbh the first draft is just getting it down! even if there are bits that don't work even if you're experimenting with ur prose and it doesn't always go the way u want, the first draft is the chance to do that. and then however happy i am with a scene, i will always open a blank doc and put them side by side and rewrite it--once immediately after finishing the scene, and once when i rewrite the entire fic as a whole. even scenes where i actually felt i was already pleased with them n i was tempted to just skip rewriting them, if you write it out from scratch rather than editing the existing text i find you end up having soo many more ideas and improving it in ways you weren't even thinking abt before. you cannot underestimate the transformation it will go through during a rewrite!! especially if there is something wrong with a scene and you don't quite know how to fix it.

i feel like those are the major things?? sorry if this was not helpful at all gfhcdgbfhdg but honestly!! just write and have fun writing and have fun trying things out and write things which are really vague and big-picture and write things which are sooo small and specific!! write loosely n dont think abt it too much because that can all come later!!

#anon #telegram #writing tag #posts like these make me so nervous like i am so flattered anon u are so sweet but i dont know anything hfdbshfshd #i feel like i should not be trusted to give advice i have no credentials...i just go here you know i just work here #style is weird i think. you can always identify other peoples style but id have no idea how to go about pinning down my own #but usually like scenes will have a Feel. and if it feel like its getting away from me or getting too long it pretty much always is #and thats sooo much easier to fix by rewriting from scratch than it is by trying to edit what you've already got

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shirophantomvox · 3 years

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Leorio, Hisoka, Illumi, and Chrollo Head Canons #2

What’s up y’all! Thank you so much to the people who have given me feedback about what posts you all would like to see! This post will be about the “Adult Trio” and Leorio about how they would help their significant other with a subject in college. This one is a good suggestion! I’m going to incorporate fluff in this, as I am a sucker for fluff. I hope you all enjoy this! I most certainly do. This post is about 2687 words but don't worry, it's worth the read! These head canons came from my mind its a coincidence that some of these pictures match the thoughts. Portentous (old English) means wonderful or marvelous (in modern English) FYI: I am thinking about creating a discord server for both Voltron and Hunter x Hunter fans. I don’t know how to use the fancy perks of discord yet, so if you know how to and can help me out, send me a message! Alright, let’s get to it! Obviously these images are from Pinterest.

Discord Server for Voltron and HxH fans!

Leorio

“Mr. Leorio”, as we all know, is a sharp guy. He dresses in a suit, carries a suitcase, and wants to be a doctor. This man knows everything about academics, especially math and science. He will need to know these subjects to be a successful medical doctor.

Leorio received an A- in Calculus II and a B+ in Organic Chemistry. He was the only one that passed with flying colors while everyone else barely made it. He didn’t gloat in their faces but as soon as he got into the hallway he jumped for joy.

He was extremely happy about his progress and counted the days until graduation even though that was in 5 years. Wow! Don’t we love graduate school?!

He deserved the high grades because he spent countless nights studying missing parties, football games, and being with you just to make sure he was on the right track to graduating on time.

As we all know, Leorio wanted to pursue this career because he witnessed his best friend dying in front of him powerless to save him. The care for his friend would have been too expensive. Obtaining his degree was in honor of his friend; he’d save countless children, women, and men who’d all thank him for his hard work.

Leorio didn’t socialize much, but he did find himself hanging around a group of classmates that were a part of a co-ed fraternity that provided information on scholarship money for graduate school and job opportunities. This is where he met you. You didn’t want to be a doctor but instead wanted to be a computer scientist and decided to volunteer for this fraternity job fair.

As he rejoiced, his smile faded when he saw you walking down the hallway; tears falling from your face not caring who stared at you. He quickly walked up to you, put his arm around your back, and gave you a soft hug.

“What’s the matter,” he asks.

You were failing Calculus, a class you’ve been taking since the 12th grade but for some reason, you couldn’t pass it. Everyone else had A’s and B’s, while you had a D. D’s aren't accaetable in college; most make you retake the class.

“Don’t worry. I’ve just passed my midterm. I can help you study. You’ll pass; trust me.”

Later on that evening, he kept his promise but gave it a unique twist. He kept the lights off and lit 4 Yankee-sized candles in the room that smelled like Lavender. In the background, he had piano jazz playing on his speaker. You felt confused for a moment. You and Leorio weren’t necessarily dating but you both flirted with each other here and there. He wasn’t a social butterfly, but he felt comfortable talking to you.

“Um...what’s the music for?”

“It helps me concentrate. Believe it or not, it helps my brain flow. You like it don’t you?”

“No, actually I don’t.” Truth be told you loved it but you wanted to pull his strings a little. He looked up with a confused look.

“Ok. I’ll turn it off.”

“I'm kidding! It’s great!”

Whenever he cannot solve a Calculus question, he reviews similar problems from Algebra II. He applies this knowledge to your problem.

“Perform the indicated function evaluations for f(x)=3−5x−2x^2 . I’ll solve the first part for an example: f(6+t) simply means you will exchange “x” for 6+t. It will look like f(6+t)=3-5(6+t)-2(6+t)^2=-49 . You’d distribute -5 and -2 to the numbers inside of the brackets in which they are next to.”

Wow, that was easy! Wait, not he must think you’re stupid.

“You must think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

“Of course not! It took me a while to understand it too. You’ll apply the same knowledge for the rest.”

After what seemed like 4 hours (which was 2), you finally finished your homework! It was probably wrong but at least you made it past the 1st question! As you blew out the candles and turned on your LED lights instead, you see Leorio sleeping on your couch. Something about his soft face made you smile and place your hand over your heart.

“My little doctor,” you whispered to yourself.

“Well, come give this doctor some company then. I’m freezing over here!”

The throw blanket was large enough for you both. Snuggling on the couch was a great end to a stressful day.

Chrollo

To everyone else Chrollo was “Boss” or “Boss Man” but to you, he was Chrollo. Big C was known for his love for poetry and language.

He read poetry any chance he had at lunch and even dinner. It had gotten so bad that you had to tell him for the millionth time “No books at the table!”

Given his past, he always read at least 2 hours a day or one book a week. Reading is what got him through the day.

He was staying in your dorm for the day to relax because he had taken and passed his midterms to. The young thief thought about hiding in the closet but he didn’t because he sensed that you’d be tense because of midterms.

As you walked through the door, you looked angry, so angry that you could punch a wall. He immediately rose to his feet, threw his arms straight out in front of him, and motioned for you to stop. You just stared at him blankly.

“Come here,” he said like you, on cue, melted in his arms. He was warm and the deepness of his cooing voice vibrated against your neck. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m failing this stupid Shakespeare class!”

“Really?”

“Yes and if I don’t pass this midterm I’m going to fail the class for the 3rd time. I want to drop out! Who needs this scam anyway?!”

Chrollo held you a bit longer until you were ready to sit down and get to business. You pulled out your college’s book about Shakespeare plays and how he used Old English. Chrollo was the perfect man for the job! He’s read Macbeth and Romeo and Juliet several times!

Chrollo read a few stanzas and explained them. He then had you read some on your own and explain them...still you can’t.

He notices the problem immediately. He catches you snuggling comfortably against his toned arm, nearly falling asleep.

Chrollo laid at the very corner of the couch as you lay horizontally placing your head against his chest. You were comfortable but you weren’t able to focus. He notices this and slightly demands that you go sit at the table. When it came to academics, he was serious.

For as long as he had been reading, he has an arsenal of vocabulary words ready to be of use. He created flashcards for you and had you flip them over for nearly an hour. You start to memorize the words!

But you’re not done yet.

“Say the word ‘portentous’.”

“Por-ten-trious…?”

“No. Por-ten-tas.”

“Tias…?”

He moved his chair next to you, just an inch away from your face. He cups your mouth and moves it as he speaks again. This wasn’t a hard clutch, it was soft and he wasn’t irritated but he could sense that you were becoming irritated.

“Por-ten-tas,” he said again.

Instead of letting your cheeks go, his eyes diverted to your lips. They were moist and plump, ready to be met by his.

“Your lips are gorgeous. Kisseth me quite quaint.”

Oh no. Look at the monster you’ve created.

Chrollo created a reward system. Whenever he did things right as a child, he was rewarded with money and jewels. For every word you pronounced and defined correctly, he kissed you once. For each word you got correct in a row, he’d kiss you twice.

Soon enough he had kissed you so much that you couldn’t see straight!

The kisses worked because you passed your midterm! Each kiss placed a stain in your brain that made you remember the definition and how to pronounce it.

You and Chrollo celebrated by drinking champagne and listened to him read Sonnet 23 and 57.

Hisoka

As unusual as it seems, Hisoka is gifted when it comes to Chemistry specifically. That is why you two work well together...there is some chemistry going on between you two.

His hair down and his glasses were his alter ego, it was something that made him act completely different than what you were used to.

When you all were freshmen, he would skip class, attend parties, and would be hungover almost every week but once he was called into the Dean’s office, he changed.

You slightly missed that edgy side of him, but you enjoyed having a serious beau.

Hisoka is a social butterfly and is the life of the conversation and you loved him for it but sometimes it was awkward.

While he was chatting away about Calcium (Ca) and Iron (Fe), you stood there nodding like an idiot. You had NO IDEA about what he was talking about and that is why you were going to drop your chemistry class.

“I saw an imbecile put aluminum foil in the microwave and it burst into flames. How did they not know that Microwaves are the radio waves falling under frequency around 2500 megahertz? Any metallic object detected by radio waves inside the microwave acts as a reflector of radio waves.”

You shove his arm hard. He was acting arrogant in front of his friends. You were used to this but it got on your nerves. You made mistakes, everyone does!...even those that almost burn down the entire dorm room.

You two leave the party and head to his dorm room. Once you were settled, you released a can of anger and threw it all over your boyfriend.

“Hisoka? You just humiliated me.”

“Oh? No one knows that I was talking about you, my dear.”

“Don’t ‘my dear’ me! I asked for your help and you’re ignoring me. I don’t appreciate that. I didn’t ignore you when you sprained your ankle, did I?”

“No, you didn’t, dear. I supposed I have a few hours to kill. What do you need help with?”

Hisoka’s way of studying was much different from other students. He exercises like crazy before he opens his textbook.

He listens to EDM instrumentals while on the treadmill and when he lifts weights. You weren’t standing there like a trophy, he made you lift too.

“Being healthy will help your brain flow more easily. Lift this dumbbell as heavy as you can.”

He ran a mile on the track upstairs. Sweat dripped from his face like he had been standing outside in the rain.

By the time you returned to his dorm, you were beyond tired. You laid your head on his pillow but just as you closed your eyes, he pulled you up on your feet.”

“Not on my watch,” he tutted. “It’s chemistry time.”

You were having trouble memorizing Chemical Formulas and this by far was the most difficult concept you had come across.

To make you stay awake, he turned on a bright LED light and faced it towards the table. The bright light nearly made your head fall off from the pain it reflected in your eyes.

Hisoka grabbed his book and began to write down the major chemicals on the periodic table and their charges.

“Pay attention to the following abbreviations and charges: Calcium is Ca, Chloride is Cl+2, Carbide is C+2, and Carbon Dioxide is CO+2. Read these over and I’ll test you again.”

He did just that but you still weren’t understanding. You were ready to give up.

Stupid scam. Why do I need a piece of paper to determine what I can do? You thought to yourself. Well, it’s obvious. If you can’t do the work now, what makes you think you can do it at a job? Harsh, I know.

“Let me try this,” He said. He carried you to his bedroom and gently placed you on it. He took off his shirt and removed his glasses. “Aluminum has a charge of +3 and Oxygen has -2. If there were three of me and two of my clones disappeared, how many of me are left?”

“Just you, right? One”

“Correct! Excellent.”

Wow, everything started making sense once he took his shirt off.

From then, he just inserted himself into the equation and then it started to make sense! He apologized for running his mouth earlier and promised to keep any more secrets between you two. The night ended with you sleeping in his bed wrapped in a cotton blanket just cuddling and that was it. And bam! You slept as sound.

Illumi

Dating the “hot” quiet history buff was a flex of its own. Sure Illumi didn’t talk to anyone besides you, but it didn’t matter. People swooned if he looked in their direction.

History was a popular major during your era. People were not like their grandparents; they wanted to learn about other cultures besides their own. Illumi’s specialty was in world history and civilizations. The class was very interesting to you but there was so much information, you could barely process it.

Illumi often wrote his essays in one day proofread and all! He often charged people to look their essays over.

One time he made $500 in one year!

Glancing at your transcripts, he notices that you have a C- and offers to help.

“Why are you looking through my stuff?”

Hey, he’s your boyfriend! But still, he should ask.

“Sorry. It was up on the screen,” he said, throwing his hands in the air.

You began to blush in embarrassment. The hottest smartest man in the building now knew that you were failing one of the easiest classes on campus.

Placing his thumb under your chin, he lifted your head to meet his gaze. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I can help you.”

“How? I am so behind! I zoned out after chapter 2!”

“We’ll watch a movie.”

“Oh, God! Not one from PBS is it?!”

“Yes. How else are you supposed to learn?”

He turns on the movie and allows you to lay your head on his shoulder but not too much. He is aware of your tricks and he wants you to pay attention.

Every 15 minutes, he pauses the movie and asks you checkpoint questions. If you got them wrong, you had to stand up with your underclothes on (t-shirt and shorts) in the cool room for 10 minutes. If you got the questions right, he allows you to lay more comfortably. You were already in your underclothes but you were under the blanket.

He made you write down key definitions and the embarrassment of each section.

After the movie, he blindfolds you and reads out a term. Surprisingly, you got them all correct!

As a reward for your past midterm, he takes you to dinner at a restaurant where he slips a promise ring on your finger containing your birthstone.

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acciocriativity · 3 years

Text

You and Me || Harry Potter

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin/Reader

Summary: It's always been you and Draco since you can remember, the invincible duo, the two of you against the world but some things have changed along the way and it's not news to any soul at Hogwarts but it's time your parents knew too.

Word Count: 2,8k

A/N: I took a bit to finish but here it is your story @x-dratie-x. I hope you all like it! Tom Riddle is not Voldemort in this oneshot, Voldemort didn’t exist at all but the events of the first war and its consequences still is valid, but with another wizard.

Warnings: A very very slightly sexual conversation and that's all

1987

I didn't want to be at that dinner, I didn't want to have to listen all day long to how well I should behave because the Malfoy's were such an important family or something.

I had plans for the week, I would go with our elf to buy more art supplies and I was allowed to spend the day outside the house, just drawing the landscape.

My parents never let me participate in events like this, because I might mess up, say something inappropriate for the moment, or whatever excuse they decided to make up. But out of the blue, I was told that I would have to be there. Why? I couldn't understand and I didn't even ask them, what good would it do? None.

The day was only getting worse and worse by the hour for me, I just wanted to take off that dress and go play but I couldn't, obviously. So I did what was left to me, smile and eat politely without making any noise or comments, not that there were any comments I would like to make. I had no idea what they were talking about, it was absolutely boring. The only thing that made me feel slightly better were my own thoughts and the fact that their son was as bored as I was.

We knew each other because of some casual encounters between our parents but never had the opportunity to talk to each other, because of course, only grown-ups talk.

But it seems that I drew the long straw after a horrible day, after dinner Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were invited to stay a little longer and I was excused along with Draco to play.

I could hardly believe it, I wouldn't have to sit there and smile for another 45 minutes, my happiness couldn't be measured at that moment. Not even waiting for my mother to say it again, I stood up and said goodbye politely with a smile before walking up the stairs and I could hear footsteps following me somewhat hesitantly but I didn't care at the moment.

"Come on, let's go play in my room", I exclaimed with a huge smile and threw the bow tie, which was pinning my hair, on the floor and quickly walked over to it uncaringly.

I missed his shocked expression but as soon as we reached my door, he made sure to make it clear to me.

"Do your parents let you do that?", the question made no sense in my head but stopping to think about it now, it makes sense, he should always be flawless.

"They don't care as long as it's not in front of guests, you won't tell them, right?", his greyish blue eyes reflected mine and for a few seconds I thought that was a beautiful effect.

He looked away from me and nodded slightly in agreement, his face covered in shyness and I just squealed with delight. I opened the door and pulled him inside, his hand was so cold that I thought about taking one of my jackets and handing it to him.

"So what do you want to do? I have some toys in my closet, I'll get them", I walked happily to the door and proceeded to try to decide what I would want. Some was not the best word, there were a lot of them, far more than I would ever use.

I came back with a big mulberry box that I've only been able to carry within the last year and placed it on my bed but he didn't even notice, he was looking at my drawings.

"Oh, you liked them. I wish I had done one more today, do you want to try?", I asked him and walked over to the table where my sheets were.

"Yeah, they're not too bad", he stated nonchalantly and I didn't believe him for a moment but I chose to keep my mouth shut for once.

I picked up two white sheets, two quills and sat down quietly on the floor, since I didn't have two chairs for the two of us but it seems he wasn't used to that.

"Come on, hurry up, your parents won't be here forever", I patted the seat next to me and soon he sat down as well, I noticed his posture still uncomfortable and my goal for the day turned to change that, if only for 5 minutes.

From that day on, we became closer and our parents obviously understood and liked that, because we were strengthening their relationship and at no point that crossed my mind. I was just happy to be supported by my parents to visit Draco.

1991

My Hogwarts letter had arrived some weeks ago and I hadn't let go at any point, going to Diagon Alley had become a completely different experience and I couldn't wait, but I had to because I pleaded with my and his parents so that we would go together.

But the day had finally arrived and I had to contain all my energy to not look like an out of control little girl, nothing out of the ordinary but today was more difficult because I was genuinely happy. I was always genuinely happy with my only real friend.

"Y/N, you must hurry or we are going to be late", I could hear my mother's voice from downstairs just as I finished putting on my flats.

As it was a very important occasion I had chosen my favorite outfit, even my parents were a little excited too. They had told me that they had met at Hogwarts and that I would find someone from a good family at Slytherin as well. This part was completely ignored by me but they never found out about it.

"I'm here mom, we won't be late", I said as soon as I came down the stairs and approached them without running. We were near the fireplace and I mentally thanked them for not having to apparate, because it was always a horrible experience for me.

"Okay, I'll go first and you two right after", my father made sure to announce although he always goes first when we go out like that.

After a few minutes, we arrived in front of Flourish & Blotts and there was the imposing Malfoy family. After a small talk in which I had no interest in paying attention to, we all went inside and we were finally able to talk while our parents were engaged in a conversation with the attendant.

"I've already said it once and I'll say it again, I honestly don't understand how you're not that excited, it's Hogwarts", I whispered to him as we walked through the messy shelves full of books.

"It doesn't seem like a great thing after hearing it so many times", I could clearly see that there was something more there, I had known him long enough to know that and also that he wouldn't tell me easily.

"Okay, so you're telling me that you're not the least bit excited to leave Malfoy Manor to start your life?", his lips twitched trying to hold back a smile, his eyes shifted from mine, looking for something to distract himself.

But I could stop him, my cunning little hands went to his waist tickling that area before he could prevent me from doing so. That was enough to make him laugh, although he denied that he was ticklish every time I asked.

This attack did not end well for me, because revenge existed in his vocabulary and was even overused. I had to run, as fast as I could, and it still didn't work.

And why? Because I went to a dead end corridor upstairs, I had never even visited the second floor of that store, the day I went there I had to get unlucky.

In short, I was attacked twice more without mercy, my glasses almost got broken and we were so noisy that the owner gave us a scolding and our parents did the same as soon as we left with our packages, but this was not enough to ruin the day and our good mood.

1993

It was already expected that we would both end up in Slytherin, which was great because we didn't have to be separated, on the opposite, we became closer than ever. It also didn't take long to form our group of friends, actually not more than a month but the thing that made us truly close started in the third year when I had a genius idea.

We all had a reason to dislike Harry, mine was nowhere near Draco's, no one's was but we shared it anyway. It was always fun to pick fights with him, make pranks and get him into trouble on purpose, so why not make it a little game? It was so easy that the idiots, Crabbe and Goyle understood the first few times, you can't expect more than that from them, and this was certainly a record for both.

The game had three main objectives:

- Take the most materials from Harry or his friends: ink, quill, books, whatever they were carrying would be a prize and would get a point.

- See him or his friends more often, with the intention of spying on them just for fun, of course. It could be in class or in the corridors, each time would be an extra point.

- Pick fights with him or his friends, each minute was worth one point and to be proven, had to have someone to confirm it.

Of course, there was no room for lies, and I made sure to put a spell on our board to prevent this. Yes, I had made a small board that stayed with me but each team wrote down their own score.

To make it more fun, we split up into pairs. Draco and I, Pansy and Blaise, Grabbe and Goyle, Astoria and Millicent and Tom and Theo.

And finally, the best part, whoever had the most points at the end of the year would win 5 galleons from each person, as well as having a celebration party financed by the losers.

Needless to say, Draco and I always won since the day I created the game. Our friends always complained about us playing dirty but it was never necessary and deep down they knew it, it must be hard to lose every year so I don't judge them.

1995

"Are they still complaining?", I remained with my eyes closed, it was comfortable to lie curled up against Draco on the couch in the common room. We had two free classes, which was being put to good use to get some rest after a year of N.O.M.S. and a devastating victory in our little game.

"They'll get over it when we come back in September, I guess.... You're missing the best part", his voice came out whispered directly into my ear and I couldn't help but smile.

I didn't need to see the scene to know what was going on, Tom and Theo blaming each other for the defeat, everyone standing back from them because no one wants to get involved in their ego battle and our other friends trying not to laugh because it was a funny scene, even if they didn't know it.

"They're taking longer than last time...", I commented slightly annoyed by the noise. I had no idea what had happened to me, because usually I spent the afternoon celebrating my victory but not today.

"Let's get out of here, you seems so good", he hadn't even completed his sentence when I agreed and painfully got up to go to his room.

But before I could take two steps, I felt his arms go around my waist and legs, leading me up the stairs in a bridal style.

I smiled wider and snuggled into his arms, enjoying more of the warmth and good feeling it gave me until we reached the bed.

"Thanks honey, I don't know what happened today", I commented under my breath as soon as he had me lying on the bed, but I knew it was a lie.

"Are you sure? This isn't related to the fact that our parents will know about our relationship in a few days?", I hoped he would pretend he didn't know but that wasn't the case, I wasn't going to be able to run away from the subject.

"It's just that I don't like them meddling in our lives, of course I have nothing against your parents, I'll love to be introduced as your girlfriend but my parents will be twice as unbearable", I sighed and hugged the blond once more, if there was one thing that made me better it was this.

"Like my mom isn't going to start a 3 year planning for our wedding after she finds out, but at least they'll be used to it by the end of the summer and we won't have to go through this again", he began to fiddle with my hair and curl the strands between his fingers, slowly my shoulders relaxed and a considerable chunk of my worry faded away.

"Yes, I think so but it's going to be a lot harder for us to be alone now. You definitely won't be stepping foot in my room like you did when we used to play together", the memories flooded back and I felt him smile too, it had been a while since this had escaped my thoughts.

"I don't need to worry about that, we slept together for almost the entire year at Hogwarts and they can't do anything about it and we'll keep doing it", I couldn't see him since my face was buried in his neck, but the perfect image of his mischievous grin formed in my head.

"The question is, will you survive for two months without me? Because I don't see that happening", I teased with a huge smirk as I turned to look him in the eye.

"It won't happen because your father won't be enough to stop me love and I'll make sure you don't have to resort to your hands, because we know it wouldn't be enough", smugness was all over his face and as much as I searched for an answer to that, I didn't have one. Not in the first few seconds.

"Good love, that's good because I'm sure your hands wouldn't do a better job either. In fact, I'd be a little worried if they actually still work, in case we get separated", I had managed to wipe the smirk off his face but I also knew it wouldn't stay that way, revenge was still an overused word in his vocabulary.

A week later, there I was on one of the Hogwarts Express cars with Draco, since we couldn't fit all our friends there anyway, we decided to enjoy the last hours of freedom we had together.

And how quickly it went by, one moment I was chatting with my boyfriend while my puppy slept peacefully in her travel bed and the next, we had arrived and a wave of students were trying to get through the doors at the same time.

We stepped off the train holding hands, while I carried only my baby in the other, and this detail did not escape the trained eyes of our parents who were talking side by side but as soon as they noticed us they stopped.

"For Merlin's sake, you two finally decided to listen to me and are in a relationship now?", my mother's eyes sparkled with excitement and I could already hear her voice asking me all sorts of embarrassing questions. "Narcisa, our family is finally becoming one, this is the best news I could ever receive", she could jump for joy now but because of the good posture of a London high society woman, she did not do that.

"How about dinner at our house today? We have a good reason to celebrate," I had seen his mother smile at me several times but even Lucius Malfoy seemed satisfied enough to show a little bit of his teeth, which is indeed shocking.

My parents agreed to the idea immediately and only one look was exchanged between Draco and me, it only took a single look to know that we both acknowledged it would be an insufferable night.

Harry Potter Masterlist

#harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley #harry potter x reader #harry potter #george weasley #draco malfoy x reader #george weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy masterlist #Masterlist #draco malfoy smut #cedric diggory #sirius black #hp fanfic

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joy1579 · 3 years

Text

self indulgent

I've been sad. so i wrote a thing to make me less sad. maybe it'll make someone else less sad too or at the very least they can laugh at my “cringe” but either way it did make me less sad so goal accomplished.

Mc and jumin organize a bookshelf jumin asks what neko girls are and MC short circuits his brain for a couple of seconds. no smut just fluff

Moving hadn’t taken long. You had opted to donate your furniture to the local homeless shelter since Jumin’s penthouse was furnished with the highest quality furniture you could dream of. Honestly most of your things paled in comparison to the lavish goods Jumin considered tawdry. Still there were a quite a few boxes you had decided to save, filled mostly with sentimental keepsakes and the few odds and ends that catered to your specific tastes. You were practically finished by noon save the three or four boxes that sat in the main room next to the larger than life bookshelves. Certainly there was plenty of room on them. You never where a fan of negative space on bookshelves but if you were being completely honest that had more to do with how many books you needed to fit in such a finite space. Jumins bookshelves had plenty of room with just enough negative space to look perfectly balanced and while you knew Jumin had told you to do whatever you wished this felt intimate. Bookshelves where holy spaces after all, housing books that change hearts and minds alike that shape the soul and … okay so maybe you just really liked books and that made them seem important to you either way this was definitely something you wanted to do with Jumin. When you heard the door rattle with Jumin homecoming you bolt towards it excited to greet him after work.

“Jumin! Welcome home!” you cried bouncing in place as he made his way inside. You smiled as you saw the creases in his brown flatten and the stress slip from shoulders when he saw you. You waited all of 5 seconds for him to close the door giving you both some privacy from the bodyguards stationed outside before you pounced, leaping upon the business man wrapping your arms around his neck. You delighted in the deep honey of his laughter as he caught your waist in kind and kissed the top of your head gently.

“darling. I’m so glad to be home. How was your day? did you get settled?” Jumin asked as you pulled yourself back slightly giving him room to loosen his tie and set aside his coat.

“everything is in its place except um Jumin there is one thing I need if you don’t mind”

“name it and its yours”

“I wanted to share your bookshelves and I was hoping that maybe you could organize the books with me?” you admitted shyly. It had seemed like such a good idea in the beginning he could show you his favorite books, walk you through his favorite plots and tell you his favorite quotes and you could do the same with him. Yet now as you presented the idea to him you worried. What if he was to tired he had worked all day after all, what if he thought you too needy, or your books to childish. what if he didn’t want your books displayed in the living room because they weren’t very pretty, all of his books where gorgeous leather bound tomes or mint condition hardcovers, yours where second hand at best many where decommissioned library books or garage sale rescues, broken in battered and bruised by years of use. It would make sense to have them put away in a back room where they couldn’t tarnish the pristine collection Jumin had on display. Perhaps you where spiraling, working yourself into a nervous frenzy in the span of a few seconds.

“nothing would make me happier love. We can call the chef to start dinner and begin emptying the shelves for rearranging while he works.” You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face or the giggle that escaped your lips. The surprise on Jumins face was evident if only for a second before it gave way to a warm sort of fondness. “had I known simple redecorating would make you this happy I would have stayed home and done it all with you” he said affectionately running his fingers through your hair.

“it’s not that I just,” you paused face flushing a bit “books are a big deal, ya know? My dad used to tell me that every book you read becomes a part of you and that you can learn more about someone by the books they love than by the words they say so I wanted to share that with you” jumins eyes where so soft and gentle in that moment you felt your breath hitch “I want to know everything about you and, and I want you to know everything about me” suddenly his lips where on yours fervent and full of passion the hand that had been in your hair now on your chin guiding you too him. The kiss was short and when you parted from him he stayed close, just a hairs breath from your face.

Jumin voice was little more than a whisper as he asked “how is it that every day I manage to fall more in love with you?” you couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss him again an all too familiar giddiness bubbling its way through your soul. You loved this man more than life itself and you knew that would never change.

“so your ‘Encyclopedia of Fairies’ should go next to the Catherynne M Valente series so we can reference it while reading agreed?” you giggled thrilled that his collection of mythological reference books slotted together with your fae fiction so perfectly. Puzzle pieces connecting to create a masterpiece.

“yes I think that’s perfect. I can’t wait to read her interpretation of such ancient mythos. I also have ‘The World Guide to Gnomes, Fairies, Elves and Other Little People’ if you’d like to add it to that shelf” he said grinning like a child at show and tell.

“oh my goodness yes! That’s perfect and your book on Romanian vampires should be near my ‘Dracula’ and ‘vittorio’ that way that shelf over there can be dedicated to the occult, hauntings, and psychic reference books”

“that sound wonderful and takes care of all the written word but we still haven’t found a place for your comics” Jumin informed glancing toward the woefully large stack of manga you had brought.

“not comic Jumin manga and yeah I think we’re out of space though. I um I didn’t think I had that many books. Sorry” you admitted not meeting his eyes. He tilted your head up to look at him.

“there’s no need to apologize it simply means that tomorrow we can go shopping for another shelf and the next day we can organize those. I’m quite curious about ‘la petite cossette’ you said these where Japanese but that is most certainly a French title.”

“oh I actually think you’d like that one a lot it’s about a man who falls in love with a woman in a cursed portrait its actually pretty tragic in the end.”

“How interesting” he mused retrieving it from the pile of books and skimming through it “the art is truly enchanting and you said that manga has its own subculture?”

“yeah from neko girls to shonen action tropes it has its own vocabulary, history and groups of people its really fun”

“neko girls?” Jumin repeated and your eyes widened at his confusion. This was definitely something he of all people should know about! You jumped up and sprinted to the closet you had filled earlier that day with the few cosplay supplies you had. At the time it had taken nearly half your pay check but if Jumin liked them right now the purchase then would be completely justified. You put on your surprise as quickly as possible before rushing back out to greet Jumin who had just made it to the edge of the living room to come find where you had gone. He froze for a second processing what you were now wearing. White cat ears that moved and twitched fairly believably and just as he was able to cope with that your made paws with your hands and tried your best “nya”. For a moment you feared you may have broken him. He didn’t move his face blank, eyes fixed on you. You tried again hoping to spur some sort of reaction from him “nya?” you said turning to the side slightly to show off the other half of your surprise a white tail complete with pink bow and bell at the base where it attached to your skirt. You tilted your head to look up at him through your lashes trying every trick in your arsenal to look as cute as possible but nothing. He was completely frozen. “Jumin? Hello?” now you were getting worried “darling are you okay?” you asked placing the back of your hand on his forehead to feel for a temperature. The second your hand touched him however his face flushed.

“neko girl.” He muttered “that’s neko as in cat” you could see him trying to calm himself. Fiddling with his shirt sleeves and attempting to stay in control. You smiled standing on your tip toes to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear.

“am I a good little kitten at least?” you couldn’t contain your giggle as you heard him choke slightly before scooping you up bridal style.

“certainly not, in fact I think you’ve been a very bad little kitten.” He said his voice deeper than normal as he carried you back towards the bedroom.

#Jumin #jumin x mc #jumin han #mm jumin #jumin fluff

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imaginedxlan · 4 years

Text

Drivers License (Ron Weasley)

a/n: have y’all HEARD drivers license by olivia rodrigo? sis DRAGGED joshua bassett, as she should have. Any who, I did this type of song based imagine with New Years Day by Taylor Swift and its still one of my absolute favorites I’ve ever written, so here we go

Y/N has cared for her best friend, Ginny Weasley’s, older brother Ron for as long as she can remember, but every time it he shows any sort of affection back, its not long before he moves onto the next girl.

warning(s): I don’t think any, please let me know if I missed any

Part 2

_____________________

I got my driver’s license last week Just like we always talked about 'Cause you were so excited for me To finally drive up to your house

Being muggle born, you always knew one day you would eventually have to get your license. Without the ability to use magic outside of school, driving a car was the second best way to get around. Last week, on the exact day of your sixteenth birthday, you finally passed your drivers test. You were ecstatic, you had been talking about finally being able to drive a car with all your friends, both muggle and magic, for years now, especially with the Weasleys.

You and Ginny had become friends during second year, both being in Gryffindor and all, but it wasn’t until fourth year that you realized how unlucky you were to have a best friend with such handsome brothers. Bill, Charlie and the Twins were far too old for you, so was Percy but your issue with him wasn’t so much age, rather how much of a priss he was. Ron was like god in your eyes. Only a year older than you and Ginny, but somehow he seemed to much more mature.

To be clear, you never used your relationship with Ginny to become close with him, he was more and added bonus to being friends with a girl like Gin. When Ginny and Harry became closer, it only made sense for you to spend more time with Ron, now that both of your best friends were occupied. He loved to listen about your life as a muggle, he heard a lot from Hermione, but your stories were just as interesting. When he found out you were to get your license this Summer, he wouldn’t stop talking about how you could just drive to The Burrow and visit them for days on end. It made you happy when he would seem so excited to spend time with you.

“Ron you do realize this is no more exciting than when my parents would drive me to your house.” You laugh at his planning for all that you’ll be able to do now that you have your license. You were in the common room just after dinner, trying to distract him from the fact that his sister and Harry had just snuck off to the astronomy tower. He hadn’t asked about either of them just yet.

“I know, I know. But you’ll be able to come whenever you want now, no one has to drive you to us, it’s all you.” He laughed with you, but slowly began to stop, looking almost out of breath. His eyes kept switching between your eyes and your lips, which made your heart catch in your throat. “Bloody hell, when did you get so gorgeous.”

This made your cheeks heat up, the thought of Ronald Weasley thinking his kid sister’s friend is anything other than just that. You don’t respond, feeling as though all the words you could’ve said were stolen from your vocabulary. His right hand reached out to grab your cheek, his thumb moving across the soft skin that was turning more and more pink by the second. You couldn’t help yourself from turning your eyes toward his lips, his tongue running across his bottom one.

“Ron,” You finally croak out, the only thing you could manage to say in your flustered state.

He doesn’t respond, only ducks his head down until you’re just centimeters from each other. You can feel his breath, hot against your skin. You couldn’t take it anymore, closing the gap between your lips. The first time you ever kissed Ron Weasley. Your heart was doing gymnastics as your brain was trying to comprehend what in the hell was happening. His lips were soft compared to his calloused hands. You had kissed other boys, plenty actually, but this wasn’t like any of the other kisses you’d ever had.

He pulls away from you, steadying his breath. He presses his forehead to your, staying like that for a while. “After you get your license you can come ‘round my house and we can do that for a minute before anyone even knows you’re there.”

And you're probably with that blonde girl Who always made me doubt She's so much older than me She's everything I'm insecure about

It wasn’t long after your kiss that Lavender Brown came into the picture. In the back of your head, you hoped that after what had ensued in the common room, he wouldn’t give the girl a second look. She’s beautiful, curly blonde hair, blue eyes, and more confident than you could ever dream of being. She started by complimenting Ron in the great hall, he didn’t think much of it until he realized just how much Lavender fawning over him boosted his ego.

The worst part is that she was his age. There was no chance of him thinking of her as just a child, just his sister’s friend. She was everything you wanted to be and more. It’s not that you didn’t think of him the way she did, you just didn’t have the nerve to say it to him. After you kissed in the common room, and in his room, and in your room, and in the random broom closet on your way back from class one day, you found yourself even more nervous around the ginger than before. You still felt the exact same way you did you years.

After Gryffindors win over Slytherin, all thanks to Weasley, the Gryffindor common room was absolutely buzzing. Screams and shouts about how Ron Weasley saved the day, chanting his name over and over. You and Ginny just watched from the side, letting him bask in his own glory before you went to say anything to him.

“You really like him don’t you?” Ginny asks, pulling you from your gaze. You looked at him with the biggest smile on your face, clapping along to all the chants. “And don’t lie to me, I know a face of a girl in love with one of my brothers when I see one.”

You could feel your cheeks turn red when she caught you, but still smiled as you couldn’t help yourself. “I guess I do. He’s different, you know? Never felt this way about anyone.”

Ginny just rolled her eyes, but you knew she was happy for you. She secretly had always wished you’d end up with one of her brothers so you could be sisters one day. Just as you’re about to make your way over to congratulate the boy, Lavender Brown, with all her confidence, pulls him down my his arm and plants her lips on his. You freeze in your place, heart dropping to your toes, hoping to every god there is that he doesn’t kiss her back. But he does. Just feet from where he first kissed you only months ago, he wrapped his arms around the blonde girl and you feel your chest burn. Ginny grabs your hand, forcing you to look away from the sight in front of you, and drags you down to your dorm. She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make excuses for her brother, just strokes your hair as you stare at the wall in front of you. You don’t cry, you can’t bring yourself to do it. The beautiful things he would say to you over the past few months about how he felt when he held you or what you would do together when you could finally drive to the Burrow. The things that made you fall head over heels in love with him, all of it felt like a lie now. Because now he’s kissing that blonde girl in the place he kissed you for the first time as if you had been erased from his mind.

But today I drove through the suburbs Crying 'cause you weren't around

Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs 'Cause how could I ever love someone else?

You couldn’t avoid the Burrow forever, Ginny is still your best friend after all. She had sent countless letters in the weeks leading up to your birthday, begging you to come and see her so you could drive around like a bunch of muggle teenagers.

Your heart couldn’t quite take the idea of driving up to that house, the one where he lived, the one that he gushed about you driving to and kissing in the back seat of your car, but that didn’t matter. You thought forcing yourself to face what you didn’t want to see was the only way you could heal.

He isn’t with Lavender anymore, you half expected after their breakup that he would come to you and apologize, tell you he meant all the things he said to you and that he never meant to be with her. But he moved on quicker than you expected, and not to you. To Hermione. That hurt worse that seeing him kiss Lavender. Even when he was with Lavender, you would catch him in the common room and he would smile at you, touch your leg and say things that made your heart burst.

“I still think about that night, you know? In here.”

It felt wrong for him to be saying those things to you, especially while he was spoken for, but you never stopped him. It wasn’t until he fell ill after being poisoned that you realized he never loved Lavender. You, Ginny, and Hermione sat by his bed while he was unconscious. When Lavender came in carrying on about her ‘Won-Won,’ he began whispering Hermione’s name in his sleep, and you knew it wasn’t Lavender you had to compete with, it was Hermione Granger.

Ginny grabbed your hand like she did at the Gryffindor party and led you out of the hospital wing where you spent hours next to him, just for him to say her name. You cried this time, knowing now you weren’t his second choice either.

Now here you are, driving up to the Burrow with tears in your eyes because all you could associate with this place was how your heart would beat out of control when Ron would speak about you visiting him. You couldn’t bring yourself to hate him though, how could you? You spent years caring for him before he showed you even the slightest bit of affection, you were used to being disappointed by Ronald Weasley, it never made you love him any less. He stopped saying the types of things he used to now that he was with Hermione, perhaps you were just a place holder for her. He didn’t ignore you, which was actually worse, you wish he would just pretend you didn’t exist. Instead, he pretended like you never meant anything more to him than being just his sister’s mate, like you never kissed him, like he never told you how much you meant to him.

The house buzzes with energy and you fix yourself before getting out of the car. The twins are batting in the yard while Molly yells for them from the kitchen. You’ve always loved the Burrow, how much noise there is compared to your house, but today you dread walking in.

“Y/n!” Molly greets you, patting her hands against her skirt before pulling you in for a hug. “How I’ve missed you sweet girl. Come, come! I have a little something for you, I know its a week late but I couldn’t let your birthday pass with nothing!”

She pulls you into the living room where a tiny wrapped box lies next to the couch, next to Ginny, Ron and Hermione. Ginny smiles as soon as she sees you, jumping up to pull you into a tight hug. Ron and Hermione don’t get up, just say hello from their spots on the couch before going back to whatever they’re talking about. Your heart aches.

Mrs. Weasley hands you the small back, urging you to open it. Inside is a necklace with a small red gem and a lion pendant. You gasp at its beauty and its thoughtfulness. “Oh Mrs. Weasley! You shouldn’t have!”

“Merlin, y/n, how many times must I tell you to call me Molly!” She scolds you with a laugh. “It’s nothing, really dear. You’ve meant so much to this family for so long, it would be like not giving a birthday gift to my own child.”

You smile for a moment before remembering that Ron had forgotten your birthday. You got letters from Ginny, other friends from school, even the twins and Harry had sent you a short message, but not Ron. “Oi, is it your birthday?”

“Last week.” You correct the boy, not wanting to speak with him any further.

“Ah, sorry mate, I forgot.” He says nonchalantly. “You got your license, right? You get a car too?”

You simply nod and look toward Ginny for help, she immediately intervenes by saying, “Well, y/n promised she’d take me for a ride. Want to feel like a muggle teenager for once. See you all later.”

“Be safe you two!” Molly yells after you as you make your way to your brand new car. The twins shout about you ‘sweet wheels’ before you take off with Ginny.

“I’m sorry about him, y/n.” She apologizes for her brother as you pull further from the house. “He’s a real git sometimes.”

“S’alright Gin, I’m here to see you anyway.” You assure her, trying to hide that your heart breaks every time you see her brother. “Now where to?”

I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay, now that I'm gone 'Cause you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

You truly thought he felt the same way you did about him. How could you not? The night after you kissed Ron Weasley for the first time, you found that you couldn’t escape him, not that you wanted to. You would see him in the great hall, in the common rooms, in the hallways, he was everywhere and gave you butterflies every time he looked your way.

He would pull you away from your friends to sneak a kiss in a broom closet or in his dorm, making you feel like you were in a movie. He said the most lovely things to you, telling you he wished he had fallen for you sooner, but he would never be so open around his friends. Around Hermione. You never minded, as long as you had him in some shape or form.You usually had higher standards when it came to liking a boy, but you’d never felt the way you felt about Ron with anyone you’d ever liked.

“I love the way your hair gets messy throughout the day,” He whispers to you after you had finished snogging in his dorm. “How do you look so beautiful, always.”

“I think you made it this messy you idiot,” You push his shoulder, trying to hide your blushing cheeks. “Now I have to fix it.”

“No, don’t!” He stops you, grabbing your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Lay with me for a minute. I want to hold you for a while.”

Your heart was beating out of his chest for him and only him. As his arms snaked around your body, lips pressing to the skin of your neck, you never felt more content. “I feel at home when I’m holding you like this.”

When he said those things to you, how could imagine him ever moving onto someone else so soon. How could he say those things to you and so quickly be okay with losing you like that. You couldn’t wrap your head around how he told you that you felt like home just before kissing Lavender Brown right in front of you, then completely erased you from his past to date Hermione Granger.

Whats worse is whenever you go to the Burrow, you can always hear Ron playing his guitar, even from Ginny’s room. You think he does it on purpose, just hoping you’ll cry yourself to sleep or something. It brings back memories of the nights you spent in the boys dorm, drunk off fire whiskey, as he sang made up songs to you as he strummed along with his guitar.

“I want to hold you close forever, ‘cause you’re the kind of girl I’ve only dreamt of. And my heart burns when we’re together, can’t help but smile with you my darling love.”

He sang, very poorly, but still sang. Your heart skipped a beat when he sang those words. “Ronald Weasley! Did you just call me your love?”

“Shut up,” He teases, throwing a pillow toward you. “You know I don’t think before I speak when I’m drunk.”

And now he was singing words just like that to Hermione Granger as you sat in Ginny’s room, tears silently spilling down your cheeks. He obviously didn’t mean those words he sang to you not even six months ago, if he did he wouldn’t be singing them to Hermione. You obviously have two different meaning of forever, because hiding your relationship from his friends, only to turn around love two other women, doesn’t sound like your version.

As you drive back up to the Burrow, Ginny in the passenger seat of your car, you can’t help but hurt over the thought that he should be there with you.

#ron weasley #ron weasley imagine #ron weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagine #gryffindor #gryffindor imagines #weasley imagine

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tsuumu · 4 years

Text

beautiful stranger.

oikawa x reader

a short piece in which oikawa tooru approaches you on a idyllic evening. it’s a little awkward though, since you’re trying to die.

word count: 3.3k

tw: indirect and direct implications of suicide.

your warm hands stay gripped onto the metal rails in front of you, applying enough force to watch your knuckles turn white. you find yourself doing it over and over until your fingers numb from the continued pressure. alone, you’re mulling over mundane affairs. you’d rather not be thinking about them but find this loop all too easy to fall into.

the shadow of the railing casts over a large canal, its water sifting freely, far beneath you. it laps over itself, slithers of fish break the transparent surface as they swim. some of their scales rise to kiss the sunlight in opaque relfections.

thin layers of petals scatter the ground beneath your feet that have slipped from overhead trees and continue to flutter down freely. glowers of dying sunlight seep through the shapes of them as they fall.

in this moment, autumn is alive.

it’s really lovely right now.

you’re here, all caught up in chasing that feeling of peace. safety in an open space. you have to cope with that fact that tranquility never comes easily for you.

there’s nothing that should be leaving you as deeply unsettled as you are. you’ve learnt to largely ignore feeling so overwhelmed, though it stirs and resurfaces times you wish it wouldn’t.

what’s bugging you is that you can’t quite get a grasp on your own life.

for starters, everything lacks coherent meaning. to you, there’s something constantly missing every single day. nothing purchasable, nothing attainable through hard-work and any level of perseverance. truly, it affects you so much so that even just standing here, feet glued to the very spot that is undeniably ‘lovely’, brings you nothing but unimaginable sadness.

earlier, you brushed it away as an off day but you know that’s not true. you’ve been feeling like this all the time.

it is, therefore, not at all abnormal to wonder: can a person have such thing as an off life?

you really don’t like to think about things like this too much. once you begin to muse over deep naysay you find yourself snowballing.

solutions are painfully unobtainable and it’s generally as productive as chasing pavements.

do i really enjoy being alone? or am i obsessed with the sensation loneliness brings?

“you know, if you stare long enough, you might end up wanting to jump in.”

at once, your vision snaps up, taken aback by the additional voice. you hadn’t realised that during your mindless lamenting, another person had quietly joined you by the evening canal-side.

fair skinned, dark eyed, chocolate curls brushed neatly over his features and cowlicks that bob against the light gusts of wind.

a boy offers you a smile, before shifting his feet towards the empty space to your left. you can’t seem to process him, staring at the empty spot he’d been in seconds earlier.

you’re not supposed to be here right now.

“i was totally kidding by the way.” he adds. “that was really dark, sorry.”

you’re silent in return, eyes casting back onto the running stream. the water is shallow and the fall long, so jumping in would certainly prove fatal. you know all of this too well. it’d disturb the fish who are just here to live, though, it’ll only be for a moment. they won’t know any better.

you don’t really know what to say. it’s troubling that he’s here and hearing it out loud disturbs you, like a direct call out. at no point were you prepared for any kind of conversation prior.

the two of you stand there in complete silence. it’s not particularly awkward, you just don’t know why he’s approached you so easily, talking to you like he’s known you well enough to make outlandish jokes.

asking directly for his intentions seems rude, so you’ll put up with it until he leaves.

“do you always come here?” the stranger pipes up once more, though his focus doesn’t leave the water. you breathe in deeply.

“sometimes.”

“oh, i see.”

his palms lay flat and he pushes gently off of the rails, only to fall back onto them with all his weight. he does it again, repeating the process over and over at a steady pace. you stay hunched over, keeping your distance. he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest though, clearly absorbed in his surroundings.

“it’s like a set out of a movie, this place. seems like somewhere i’d ask my girlfriend to marry me.”

your tongue rolls around in your mouth.

yes. you think. his girlfriend would most likely be thrilled-over the top-squealing if he did. that’s entirely his business.

you really don’t care to hear of other people’s romantic endeavours.

is it out of jealousy? you don’t know. maybe.

this conversation is meaningless. you wish he’d go away sooner so you could have this time to yourself.

also, jealousy is an ugly word. you hate it.

he stops his movement with a exhale of air, tilting his head back to blink up at the warm sky. the last touches daylight mingle with the oncoming darkness, creating a deep tinge of orangey-yellow.

“when’s your birthday?”

‎a petal lands on the bridge of your hand, sticking to your skin.

“do you want my social security number?” you deject.

“what? no!”

“are you sure? really, i’ll give it to you.”

“no!”

“then why are you asking for my personal information?”

‎

he falls silent for a moment, before mumbling out a small: “just wondering.”

a tinge of guilt creeps over you at his apologetic tone. you admit, your answers thus far must make you seem like a completely unapproachable asswipe. you’re not at all. you just aren’t all that sure how to make small talk with strangers when you’re trying to part with the world by dinner time.

it feels like an unexpected guest at your very lonesome party.

“it’s (insert birth month).” you fold.

he purses his lips, face contorting a little.

“i see.”

he doesn’t continue down that path after your response. the both of you return to a mutual silence, staring into the portrait scenery ahead. the stream fills the soundscape pleasantly. fallen leaves have gathered at the base of your shoes, brushing over the tip gently with the turn of the wind. you observe them quietly.

“can i ask you another question?”

he seems a tad more timid now.

he definitely thinks you’re the type to blow up and give him an earful about minding his own business, doesn’t he?

you’d never raise your voice. in general, but also because it’d break the comfort of the scenery the world has so generously given you.

“sure.”

“do you believe in soulmates?”

‎the question is a little random but not impossible to answer by any means.

“no.”

“what?”

“i said not really.”

“you said no.”

“that’s the same thing.”

“...fair enough.”

‎he exhales out, sounding a little disheartened by your curt response. perhaps to him, you were a tough nut to crack; an ambiguity for him to understand. were all people like that? you weren’t playing hard to get, in fact, you’d answered every single enquiry he has had to offer. his efforts are amusing, though.

you raise a brow at him.

“i’m sorry, was that the wrong answer?”

for a moment, he doesn’t reply, stuffing his hands into his pockets, gazing down at the head of his shoe. pivoting his ankle, he draws small circles with the tip of his foot into the ground, into the dead leaves.

“not at all.”

“your expression says otherwise.”

“um, it was just a bit bleak, i guess.”

you let your arms droop way over the railing, fingers wading through the autumn air. you’d never really taken the concepts of soulmates to heart. it was romantic bullshit put out by somebody looking for a fantasy to indulge in. out of seven billion people, there could hardly be a singular person made for you. people aren’t born for other people. if that were the case, it wouldn’t be a rose-tinted fantasy. it would be suffocating. where’s the freedom in love?

“most people always answer like you these days anyway.”

“oh, sorry.”

he looks up at you, tilting his head.

“no, don’t be.”

back to a default mute, left with nothing but the faint chitter of overhead swallows and the odd rumble of cars passing by.

“tooru.” he states, after a while.

“what?”

“tooru. my name is tooru.”

“oh, okay.”

“oikawa tooru.”

‎your fingertips have become flushed. maybe you’d pressed a little too hard on that cold surface earlier. now that all your blood has come rushing back, the tingling sensation feels foreign.

his name slips of the tongue rather easily, don’t you think?

“nice to meet you, oikawa tooru.”

“it is nice, isn’t it?”

for the first time, your gazes meet properly and you offer him a crooked smile.

“i suppose so.”

off the side of the canal, almost right under the bridge, a small cluster of ducks have gathered. adult ducks tend to be considerably larger than its offspring —as is factual with any animal— so it’s easy for you to tell that there’s only one parent there, along with three of its ducklings.

people like to come to the canal to feed the ducks bread, though you’d heard somewhere that it’s actually quite bad for them.

you wonder. do ducks care particularly if one of its ducklings die? will it do something with the body, cry out, hurt?

or is grief exceptionally human?

“i don’t actually have a girlfriend, by the way.”

he sifts out his phone, tapping the screen and sliding it open. you watch him turn it to its side, before leaning over to take a picture of the depths below. you just watch.

“oh, okay.”

he doesn’t elaborate, focused intently on his current task. your attention returns to the shape of the birds, bobbing up and down rhythmically.

there’s only so much you can say about the canal. yeah, it’s beautiful. you don’t have the right vocabulary to describe the way it makes you feel. honestly, it feels abysmal to even try. you’re convinced though, that you’re in love with the way the water moves. you’ve always appriciated it whenever you walk past, told yourself jokingly that you could die there if you had to.

funny, that.

beautiful things tend to hurt in an unbearably amplified manner.

“say, tooru?”

“yeah?”

“if i climbed over the railing right now, would you stop me?”

you’re both fixated on the paddling now. his phone is back in his pocket, elbows propped up. he hums, taking his time to think over your question.

“most likely.”

your fingers meet one another and the tingling spreads to your palms.

“i’m thinking of jumping, actually.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

“my joke earlier...”

“yeah.”

his fingers drum rhythmically on the slender poles under the rail top.

“then i’d jump right in with you.”

the corners of his mouth tug slightly at your perplexity, supressing a chortle. he’s not laughing at you, though. it’s more a gesture of understanding. this tooru doesn’t know you at all, yet he gets it. he gets it all too well.

you get that he gets it.

tooru clears his throat. “bad day?”

“that’s an understatement.”

“well, you’re not a bad person for feeling the way you do.”

by now, the ducks have swam away, you can make out the general shape of them, melding into the distant, mute colours of the bankside. the sky look minutes away from being set alight. time has never been your friend, you see.

“i feel crazy for trying.” you’re rather blunt about it.

“fair enough.”

“…is that all?”

“well, do you want me to tell you that you’re not crazy?”

you lull into silence.

“i don’t know.”

with that, you shift to angle yourself so that he’s in your immediate peripheral, the thought of gawking at him seems ridiculous but you want to look at him. you find it hard to do it up front for some reason.

“i’m no suicide expert, but it’d probably be lonely doing something like that by yourself. wouldn’t it be comforting to know someone’s falling with you?”

your fingers run absently across the jagged surface of the rails, the old paint has been chipped away at, after all its years of protecting. in all it’s history, had anyone else hitched themselves over this very rail?

were they asking for the same answers as you?

god. that’s awful. you don’t want to think about that.

you catch each others’ eyes for a second but you resign quickly, focusing as hard as you can on the flecks of black on your thumb.

“that would be selfish of me.”

“not if i’m offering.”

you scramble to look anywhere else, abruptly turning. you’re facing away from the canal, stomach fluttering a little as you fall onto the rail’s length.

in all your time by yourself, you’d never been given an irrefutable reason to ‘be’. it’d always been a live-for-the-day type of experience. if a day is good, you’re utterly blissed out by it, totally in love with life. if it’s bad, you have little reason to go on. nothing particularly interests you enough to dedicate your days persuing it. fame seems tedious, looks are temporary, a six figure career sounds like emotional jail-time, or a slow, schedule-filled trek to death. whichever description sounds more sufferable.

you see, in essence, we all get off at the same bus stop. some journeys are simply shorter than others.

“you’re guilt-tripping me out of it.”

“i’m not!”

you’ve never stopped to ask yourself what it is you want.

death interests you, you suppose. though, you don’t see the reason to wait around and pretend to ignore it until one day it drags you kicking and screaming.

“oikawa tooru, don’t you have better things to be doing than offering to jump off bridges with strangers?”

that coy smile tugs at his lips once more. nothing you say seems to phase him. it’s like he knows you. he’s thinking: yeah, this isn’t anything out of the ordinary for them.

“should i? you look at that water like it’s someone you hate. or love. maybe both. i got curious.”

“curious?”

“yes. and quite frankly, you’ve left me curious. practically starving. you haven’t even told me your name.”

“my name doesn’t matter.”

“boo. that’s not true at all.”

his tongue pokes out, tugging at the corner of his eye. you shake your head, genuinely unable to hide your amusement, turning to him properly this time.

and really, it’s like the canal side and oikawa tooru were made from the same stardust. he blends right into the picture, as effortlessly pretty as the rest of it.

the strands of hair out of place, a little disheveled from the breeze. the scarf buried into his nose, glasses a little misty from the heat of his own breath but when they clear, you see his eyes all too well.

you’d like to tuck those strands into place, they’re bothering you just a little.

“(y/n).”

your brows furrow a little.

really, this could all very well be some sort of fantastical dream. as nice as it all is, it feels painfully unreal. boys don’t look like that on autumn evenings or offer to die with you.

that’s it.

tooru must be a figment of your imagination.

no. wrong. not a dream.

this is a corner of your mind you haven’t ventured into yet, psychologically, some kind of safety net. a sliced off piece of reality you’ve come to hide in because you’ve utterly lost your mind. he is nothing but a part of you that makes you feel at ease as you come to terms with your self-destruction.

god, that bothers you more. you are crazy.

your hand extends, reaches out all on its own.

you just want to know if he’s real.

oikawa tooru glances down for a moment, he’s probably wondering about you, what’s left you in such a state. though, he’s happy to slide his palm against yours, latching onto it. he shakes once, twice. a little more. tightens his hold a bit.

the weight of his fingers as they brush lightly against your palm is fantastical. he’s so warm. you can feel it spread through you from the pads of your fingers.

he’s very real.

tooru has rather pretty hands.

the contact makes you feel kind of delirious, a produce of being utterly touch-starved. just a simple touch. you’re embarrassed to say it but it takes everything inside of you not to start weeping or hold on frantically in case he does disappear, do something bizzare that’ll scare him away forever.

hey, tooru. are you made of honey?

“well, (y/n), i’m offering you my life right now.”

the sun has set foot on the horizon, plunging in ever so slightly. as a child, the thought of night scared you, feeling largely betrayed by the sun’s farewell. now, it’s a unique kind of comfort to see the moon. it’s as lonely as those who lay their eyes upon it.

“i don’t want it.”

his fingers slip downwards against the dips of your palm.

“you don’t?”

“no, i mean... i don’t want death. not right now..”

you don’t even want to think about it anymore. funny, how things like that work. you were so sure of it. today was the day. your dark rendezvous. weren’t you itching for it?

this bastard.

this man you’ve never met. he clasps onto your hand once and suddenly he stops your nauseating rollercoaster of thoughts and leaves you wondering if, actually, you’d like to see the canal-side again tomorrow, or in fifty years.

who are you really, oikawa tooru?

“no?”

“yeah.”

“then what do you want to do?”

“stay right here, i think.”

your fingers curl, maintaining your hold on him. you should be shy or awkward about this whole ordeal but so you’re desperate for that warmth to continue.

you both stand there, facing one another, hands extended. it’s a little robotic looking. you’re pretty stiff but very sure this is what feels right.

to you, existence is based solely on feeling your way through stages of life. that sickeningly sweet innocence of youth. childhood memories that to you, are dwindled husks of gold, valuable in some aspects but almost meaningless in others. to laugh or to cry allows an individual to create a deep-set connection to the environment around them. it is no longer passing scenery but a moment in your life you once lived through.

that’s beautiful, isn’t it?

unfortunately, emotion provides both a living fantasy and the potential for agony. life is not sweet, nor innocent. it is what you make of it.

it is what your mind is forced to make of it.

and as much as one wishes they were as coddled and loved as they were children, life beyond those years is lonely, difficult and more than you were ever capable of.

were you weak? perhaps.

but maybe people aren’t built for life. we’re all weak.

and realistically, if you are unable to clamber over one obstacle after another -established by those before you- you’re doomed to fall behind.

that will hurt. you will hurt unforgivably because self-worth is no longer a beautiful gift of internal discovery and love but another way to be measured and downsized externally. a practice that leads to hatred. a desire to die.

that’s really where it all began for you. a romantic, a poet at heart, living inside your own, kinder world. that is until reality knocked on your door, invited itself in, just to set the entire thing on fire and leave you as vulnerable as the day you were born.

you aren’t allowed to hide. it comes looking for you eventually.

your stance on life hasn’t changed, afterall, you’ve spent nights mourning over how much it can hurt to live. to fall asleep exhausted with yourself, only to wake up and do it all over again. what you do know, however, is that droning, lonely feeling isn’t there right now. that ongoing, battering ruckus inside your head has ceased. tooru, the strange magician, has left you thoughtless and a little dumb.

you like being this stupid. for once, there’s nothing intrusive prodding the inside of your head.

it’s frightfully quiet, actually. you don’t know what you’re feeling right now. how much time has passed since he’d made that awful joke?

his gaze is on your lingering contact, before lightly pulling you closer, twisting his wrist down so you’re holding hands. your gaze moves to the bankside. you feel comforted. maybe it isn’t death, maybe all you want is a hand to hold.

probably not. that is a stupid, sappy thought. you’re still fanatic about ending your life.

you were so close to doing it, without even really understanding what you were doing. the canal scenery is overpowering, numbing, if you will. without oikawa tooru, you may well have kissed those fishs’ fluorescent scales with your own two lips, as cold as ice with some unfortunate early-morning runner discovering you by twilight.

“we can do that.” he hesitates. “if i’m honest, i would have been pretty scared to jump.”

“yet you still offered?”

tooru hums merrily in confirmation.

“why?”

“because you’re cute.”

you can’t believe your own ears.

“what? seriously?”

“yeah. originally, i wanted your number but things took a small turn.”

you burst out in gutteral laughter, free hand back onto the railing for support. for a moment, you look at him, shaking your head in utter amazement.

“you’re a piece of work, tooru, you know?”

“yeah, i know.”

he smiles back at you. the shadows cast by the setting sun only make him all the more enigmatic.

now that you think about it, you can’t figure this guy out at all. it’s like staring at a wordless piece of paper and trying to find something legible.

“how do you know i won’t come back and repeat all of this tomorrow?”

tooru tilts his head ever so slightly, observing you. his eyes flutter down to your lips, speaking like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“because you told me your name.”

“what does that have to do with anything?”

“well, now that i know that, you’re no longer just a beautiful stranger.”

you understood now. he hadn’t just offered you his life, he’d offered you him. by living on, you’d accepted graciously. he knows that if you visit the canal side again, you’ll only remember this moment.

a bad moment that he, in all his glory, turned into a good one. the day you two first met.

oh, clever boy. he saved you.

though you must say, oikawa tooru, you’re very much mistaken.

you are the beautiful stranger.

a tear runs down your cheek, a little warmer than you could’ve expected.

one turns into two, slipping more and more. eventually, you’re standing over the canal, hand in hand with oikawa tooru, sobbing quietly as the water runs peacefully below the both of you.

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #oikawa x reader #oikawa scenarios #oikawa fic #i love oikawa

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