#i DO have thoughts that are more extensive but that might take a sec

[youssefguedira]

wonderful film. enjoyed that immensely.

[hannie-dul-set]

USER HANNIE DUL SET I just read break up soup yesterday and it was so incredible in every way your writing style is so immaculate and magical wow you bring everything to life. Like I'm sorry for breathing the same air as you queen 👑😔 excuse me for a moment while I yap about everything I liked most about it

Right from the start, you were so consistent with showing and not telling stuff. Like instead of just stating the members' positions you showed who owned each position through the roll call along with a close up of them doing something, which also simultaneously revealed a bit of their personality AND THAT WAS JUST SO COOL AND AMAZING AND I WAS INSTANTLY IMMERSED 😖😖

And your decision to tell the story from the povs of the org members, and not yn or jeonghan was such a genius move because it added dimension AND SO MUCH TO THE STORY THAT WOULDN'T BE THERE IF IT WASN'T THE CASE like the external point of view was so amazing to explore and it was such a great reading experience omg IT WAS INCREDIBLE UGH

I also love the way you write mingyu, your characters have such vivid personalities I love him 😔 the humour was so well executed and everything was so cool and I can't remember the last time I read something so great please make me your disciple and student (joke) (maybe) you are awesome ‼️

I'm actually not done yet, I also read love vomit and I know that you wrote it a while ago, but it was SO GOOD 😖😖😖 I never thought I would so diligently read a 36k fic because I usually don't read extremely long fics, but I would read your grocery lists, first drafts, 5th grade writing assignments, boring emails anything. It was so so extensively planned and there was nothing unnecessary, and you wrote soobin so well IT WAS SO IT WAS SO 🥹 it was so great I felt like I was living with them and experiencing youth with them and ugh

And you had the season symbolism going on and I love that shit I eat it up every single time, I love the season symbolism BUT THEN you wrote a line that went something like "choi soobin had been your spring, summer, autumn and winter" (it was probably better, I don't remember very well) and I was so visibly gagged I felt as if something divine had descended upon me, it was like a moment of clarity and epiphany and all light and euphoria in the world pouring into my soul. I love it when the full circle stuff happens, it's so it just gets me every time, and you did it so well

I can't believe you are out here writing such incredible, jaw dropping prose for FREE thankyou for existing and writing I just love you you are amazing

anywho, I hope you're having a great day 🌷

-🪿(making my debut here as silly goose anon, if I may)

SILLY GOOSE ANON!!! banger....of an alias if i do say so myself.

😭😭😭 first of all, thank you so much for taking the time to send this. ur giving me way too much credit my dude BAHAHAHHA i'm just a girl......with a hyperactive brain.......vomitting words out into a gdoc and sometimes it's coherent 😔😔.

after writing the first scene of the breakup soup on a whim, i got the funny idea that hEY WOULDNT IT BE SICK IF THIS ENTIRE THING IS WRITTEN FROM THE OUTSIDERS POV. i'm so glad the idea worked HAHHAHAHAH. i did spend some time assigning positions to all of the teeners, but not all of them were mentions so might as well drop them here now!!

chairperson: cheol vci: han vce: you sec: wonu, asst sec: seokmin treas: jihoon, asst. treas: hosh (jihoon doesn't give him any of the org money.) auditor: vern, asst aud: jun bs mngr: mingyu, asst bm: chan information officers: kwan and josh creatives head: minghao

love vomit!!!! GOD i miss my sweet soobiedoobiedoo 36k words was wild to me too considering i wrote the whole thing in more or less a week HAHAHAHHAHAH. thank u for taking the time to read all of that AND for enjoying the experience!!!!! it always warms my heart to hear people read through my very long, mundane fics bcs those generally don't do well with the general, typical tumblr audience (horny teens) 😔😔😔.

[hatchetfield-bang]

In celebration of Starkid Returns, it’s the Jangle Ball Gift Exchange!!

For the off-season of the Hatchetfield Big Bang, we’ve decided to host a Hatchetfield Gift Exchange, themed after Starkid’s Jangle Ball Tour - which is to say, themed after winter, holidays, naughty and nice, and all that jazz.

If you wanna dive right in and get started, here’s the link to the form! It closes at 11:59PM (PST) on November 1st, so you have about a week to sign up!

If you have some questions first, follow me below the read-more! (It’s probably good to read anyway, as it has the timeline for the event.)

What is a gift exchange?

It’s exactly what it sounds like! You make a gift for someone, and someone makes a gift for you!

How does it work?

You fill out the provided form (liked above and below) with what you want your gift to be like, and what kind of gift you want to make. After the form closes, we’ll match people up in a big circle or two, and you’ll get crackin’! It’s like a Secret Santa, but we’re not tying this to a holiday or religion or anything. So don’t go announcing who you’re making a gift for!!!

What’s the timeline?

The form opens today (October 24th), and will stay open until the end of the day (11:59PM PST) on November 1st.

Then, on November 5th, we will email everyone with their match and all the information they provided about the gift of their dreams!

There will be two casual check-ins, on November 26th and December 17th, just to make sure you’re not trapped in limbo or have forgotten about the event or anything. This is also when you can update us on whether or not you are willing to be a pinch-hitter (more on that in a sec). You won’t be required to turn anything in, it’ll just be a quick email to see if you’re still good!

Finally, the event will end on December 31st. Everyone will post/send/share their gifts by the end of the day, and we’ll all celebrate!! Hurrah!!

Can I get an extension?

Extension? More like YEStension! Bad pun aside, yes, if you need an extension, please tell us by December 28th. Extensions will be until January 14th. If you do not complete your gift in this time, it will be taken over by a pinch-hitter, who will have until January 28th.

What is a pinch-hitter?

A pinch-hitter is someone who is prepared to take over for someone in the event that they need to drop out. It usually means having less time to complete the gift than originally intended, but makes it so that the receiver still gets something. There will be an option to opt-in for this on the form, and you can update us about whether or not you’ve changed your mind during the check-ins.

If a pinch-hitter takes over a gift before December 17th, then it will still be due on the 31st. If it is taken over after December 17th, it will be due January 14th. If it is taken over between January 1st and January 15th, they will have until January 28th, as mentioned above.

What’s the theme again? Do we have to conform to it?

I’m calling it Jangle Ball, but that’s probably more confusing than it has any right to be. The theme is winter, holidays, and naughty/nice. You do not have to conform to the theme. The goal of a gift exchange is to make something from your giftee’s prompts, and those prompts don’t have to apply to the theme! It’s just there in case you need it, and because I thought it would be fun.

Do I have to use all the prompts I’m given?

Nope! In fact, it might even be impossible to do so. You can use as many or as few of the prompts given as you like! Keep in mind, people may do the same with your prompts for your gift. There’s a section in the form for you to list your favorites so that they’ll be more likely to get used!

Where do I sign up?

Right here!!! Open until the end of November 1st!!

Any other questions? Feel free to email us at hatchetfieldbang@gmail.com, or send an ask to the blog! Have fun!

[just1gnome]

some questions for your dsmp su au!

Do you have any ideas for possible fusions, what they would look like, what gems, etc? I would be happy to make some concepts if you do (if you don't want me too thats fine also!!)

What weapons would the gems have? I have a few ideas if you need them!

i got REALLY carried away so im puttin all that under the cut

im thinking a lot of thoughts sporadically rn but OBVIOUSLY the iconic duos fuse at least once, ie clingy duo, emerald duo, (wildcard but) foolish and eret probably fused back in the day in their shared backstory to commit the Atrocities

em duo and happy duo tend to casually fuse pretty often(when the Horrors arent happening) and i think it would be CRIMINAL not to make em duo watermelon tourmaline. for happy duo tho, i was thinking black opal with primarily blue accents for their fusion, but then i remembered that i made bad a black opal with primarily red accents so i cant do that

clingy duo's easy answer would be bloodstone. so im gonna go with that one, and they usually fuse to punch things good. bee duo on the other hand, i dont think they fuse ever. its just not something they do

the schlatt/quackity fusion would be so fun to play around with theyre so awful for each other and i eat it up(the fiances have also fused and it was much better)

OHH i think maybe MAYBE in the butcher army arc when they go to techno's house, quackity makes them all fuse to fight him (he kicks their ASS) and that sorta put ranboo off fusing in a sorta "hmmm no thank you" kinda way

going back to tommy for a sec, i think MOST of his fusions are for power. like if they need to get the upper hand in a battle he'll ask to fuse but its not a common thing for him. schlatt/dream also do that but like in an asshole kinda way

i think wilbur also doesnt fuse. like an extension of his early l'manburg ideals but more personal "youre free to fuse but its not my cup of tea"

doomsday trio fused once but phil wasnt a big fan of it

this is NOT fusion related but i keep thinking about it SGFHFSDJ that one phil stream where kristin was walking around as him and got day drunk(i think about it often) i think that was her sorta 'white diamond'ing him, temporarily taking control of his body from a remote location to experience everyday gem life(ofc this was voluntary unlike white diamond's)

now WEAPONS

techno has the classic rose shield but thats about it for Gem Specific weapons, he has his sword, but he forged that himself, and of course, later down the line ranboo gifts him his axe which he ALSO made himself and everybody is shocked by this

phil has a scythe and it CAN shatter(angel of death teehee)

tommy, tubbo, ranboo, wilbur and probably a few others dont have traditional weapons. for the most part they have lights or gem powers, but no weapons as theyre not built for combat theyre built for other things!(the sword phil stabbed wilbur with was a rejuvenator that wilbur owned, but that also was not his 'Gem Weapon'. he also never used it ever and that certainly has implications)

ive been writing this for like 30 minutes thats all i got rn BUT i love a bit a' bantah and i would love to hear your ideas! if they are yummy enough i might use them perhaps no promises <333

[waitmyturtles]

Alright, thoughts on Double Savage, episodes 5 and 6 (SPOILERS INCLUDED):

First off, @miscellar wrote THE POST(s) of the week (here and here) on where this show has gone and maybe will go. @miscellar, I LOVED HOW YOU PUT your second post: there’s a show-within-this-show. There are plot points about intergenerational trauma and patriarchy that are unfortunately getting swallowed by the script/direction/editing to push the thriller-aspect of what we’re getting. There’s dramaaahhhticalllly heightened emotional interactions about what’s happening on the ground, without enough exploration into why all of this shit is happening (HELLO, BENG.)

In other words, right now, this show is being hijacked by the director’s need to be all action-y, when in fact, this is still a show and a study into Big Family Trauma (BFT) that really needs to be worked out!

UNLESS -- what might be happening, as I was mentioning to friends watching the show earlier today -- is that that BFT is assumed to be known by the show’s majority Asian audience, thus allowing the crew of the show to skip through the emotional contemplation that *I* think I need to see a *leetle* more of to be convinced about where we’re headed. (I mentioned in previous reviews that I’m really touched by young Asians going on TikTok to process this show as compared to their own childhoods with difficult parents, and this is still ringing really true for me.) 

Unfortunately, with seeing the preview for how Rung comes back, I think we’re still gonna be on the drahma/action-y tip next week. I think the show has really sped through Win’s turn into hating Korn without enough examination or heartache on Win’s end -- I think we need more flashbacks or some current engagement with the loss of his brother (although I have some thoughts on that below for why this speed might be intentional). 

I hope the ship can right itself back up from that. (WTF, Rung’s parents -- I really feel for that plot point and I wish it hadn’t happened, because I believed Rung’s parents were two people who could have helped bring Korn back into the fold.) (Also, DEAR KORN, dude, I get you miss your family, but like, you’re showing up a LOT in sensi situations, and just like our dear Rung, maybe hold off for a sec, my man.) (But also, thanks for taking care of Li at the hospital.)

ALL THAT BEING SAID, I do very much agree with @miscellar that there are MANY elements to this show that will keep me watching.

To the Win point, about his speedy hatred for Korn: Win is now the “man of the house.” We see him engaging in typical patriarchal behavior with Li at the hospital (”you and Mom take care of Dad, I’ll handle the rest.”) We see him receiving 100% good compliments from his dad earlier about his work -- all while Win is actually struggling at work. 

Win is attempting to take on roles that I’d argue he’s not emotionally prepared for. I think, as well, we’ve gotten a really great spotlight into Li in the last two episodes that had me meditating on sibling roles and family systems that I want to unwind.

Both Li and Korn -- despite the pressures of their father for Li to hate Korn -- embody roles as older siblings, with Li protecting both brothers and Korn protecting Win (and, to a large extent, Li herself). 

Not to judge younger siblings (I am one myself) but we haven’t seen Win engage in a practice of “protecting” anyone through the unspoken roles of Asian family systems conduct. When he attempts to “protect” Rung -- Win is shooed off. 

The older sibling paradigm is really huge in Asian family systems, and I saw this being reflected in the way Li/Korn/Win’s mom spoke to Li right before the father collapsed. I saw Li’s mom looking at Li as if Li was an extension mother. This is super common for older siblings, ESPECIALLY ELDEST SISTERS, to basically be a second mother to the younger siblings. (I know that this happens in large traditional Christian families in America, but I’m not as expert on family systems in that space.) Li’s mom knew that Li was still trying to care for Korn as much as possible. 

We also saw that Li’s mom is in quite the denial about the reality of Korn ever coming back home. I will say as a parent myself, and asking my own folks about this -- there’s nothing more painful to a parent than seeing siblings fight. Li and Korn’s mom probably can’t live while thinking that the siblings are fighting -- but she also bears the weight of the impact of the cultural patriarchy that has hampered her family, and she may not even have the objective judgement to KNOW why her family has splintered. Li’s mom just wanting Korn home so the siblings could get along again -- that’s her center of how she’s viewing reality, and likely is either in denial of Beng’s lifelong impact, or actually unaware of it. To me, that part is based in strong reality.

So: Li and Korn have taken on their roles as protective older siblings, and Li right now is the most active link among everyone. (Toei really killed it these last two episodes.)

WIN, on the other hand, is stumbling along. AND, he’s suddenly got this HUUUUGE hatred for Korn. Like, WTF. 

What I THINK is happening here is a parallel of the patriarchy between Dad Beng and Win. Dad Beng and Win BOTH hate Korn now -- they say he’s a jinx, he should have never been born, he should go to jail. 

Dad Beng and Win both have extrasocial reasons why they hate Korn. Beng hates Korn because Korn was a jinx...during an economic recession.

Win hates Korn because Korn is a criminal? Okay, sure. Actually, Win’s extrasocial factor is jealousy. Win knows that Rung still loves Korn. And that jealousy -- the feeling of blame that Win has towards Korn for how Rung ended up as a fugitive -- is the factor that tipped Win over. 

Those extrasocial factors are the drivers to Beng and Win’s own misaligned reality towards Korn. Again, unfortunately, the script is not SITTING with this enough. It is definitely implied. But Win is off doing his CRAZY-ASS THING without catching himself, and at least at this point, being reprimanded at work clearly isn’t going to change him. Something big and emotional needs to happen to get him out of this. 

This ended up being long, but I’ll cite @miscellar‘s excellent second post again from today in TOTAL AGREEMENT that there’s a show-within-this-show that’s really worth watching, that’s rending my Asian heart, and that CAN BE CARRIED by the ridiculous acting talent of the cast. The show’s structure is not holding up this week to what this show CAN HOLD by way of depth. 

I’m hoping for the best. We’re gonna get a bitter Rung next week and I’m so here for it. I want to see a more complicated Win. Ohm/Korn is carrying this show -- I want to see the rest of the cast engaged again by the script. Let’s see. 

(COME ON NEW SIWAJ!!!!!!!, cc: @shortpplfedup, @bengiyo)

[jewwyfeesh]

Recollections And Heartfelt Wishes 4

Writer: Mitsuki

Character(s): Oogami Koga, Kiryu Kuro, Nito Nazuna, Otogari Adonis, Mashiro Tomoya

Translated by: stcrfeesh

CN/EN Proof by: jewwyfeesh

Nazuna: You don’t wanna scare the kids away, right? Why don’t you try dressing up as a mascot?

Season: Summer Location: Amusement Park Stage

Koga: Whew… Playin’ the entire mornin’s pretty tiring too, huh. I mean, I’m not hungry, since I bought snacks while I was at it. I just need to look for a place to rest, that’s all.

Adonis: Hm. This place sells quality meat, I could already smell the fragrance from a mile away. I couldn’t help but want to try them all…

All the rides here are pretty interesting too. Whether it’s an adult or a child, anyone would enjoy it.

Oogami, thanks for inviting me here today.

Koga: Man, what are you even thankin’ me for~ ‘Sides, Kiryu-senpai gave me these tickets, and I don’t wanna be ungrateful, so let’s have some fun today, a’ight?

Lemme take a look at the map… right now, we’re probably near the stage area. There clearly ain’t any performances goin’ on up there, but a bunch of people are all gathered ‘round.

Adonis: Really…? But there’s nothing on the brochure about any performances being held at this time either. Could there be a different event?

Nazuna: …… ♪

Adonis: Huh? That guy below the stage distributing flyers to people, isn’t that Nito-senpai?

There’s a group of kids playing with the mascot next to him too. They seem like they’re having fun.

Koga: Well, no shit… We should probably go there and greet senpai, but it looks like that guy’s busy. He might not have the time to entertain us.…?

Why’s that mascot walking towards us? Could it be that someone else from Ra*bits is wearin’ that mascot?

Adonis: Based on the height of that thing, I wouldn’t say it could be…

Kuro: Phew… I could finally take a breather… this thing’s pretty hot to be in if you wear it for too long.

Oh, Oogami, Otogari, are the both of you havin’ fun?

Adonis: Kiryu-senpai…?

Koga: Huh… I already guessed that you’d probably show up today, but I didn’t think you’d show up like this, in a mascot… I think it’s a fresh look on you.

Kuro: Haha, ya think so? To be honest, I never thought that I’d be dressin’ up as a mascot at an amusement park either.

[An hour ago.]

Nazuna: Kuro-chin! Thanks for watching us perform today! I immediately spotted you from the crowd earlier, you know~

Kuro: Haha, you guys did great today, Nito. Who knew it would suit Ra*bits to perform at an amusement park? The atmosphere instantly became lively, even.

Nazuna: Well, we did practise for hours so we could do well on this gig. Just being able to see everyone with the biggest smiles on their faces, is already the best reward we could receive ♪

Tomoya: Nii~chan! Uhm, uh… could I talk to you about something for a sec?

So, you see, when I went to meet with the amusement park’s staff earlier, they asked us for an extension with promoting the special event they’ll be hosting this Summer since our performance earlier garnered a good response from the audience, and all.

The thing is, Hajime and Mitsuru won’t be able to stay any longer since they still have work scheduled for later. I was sceptical about accepting the job, cause what if it would be too much for just you and me to handle…

Nazuna: Hm… This side of the park is much more crowded compared to anywhere else, so it might not be doable if it’s just us both…

Though, this could also be a great opportunity to promote Ra*bits… We also attracted a bunch of people that could be potential fans during our performance earlier. If this is the case, then it would be better to go with the flow of things.

It might be difficult, yeah, but if we give it our all—

Kuro: Ah, I more or less understand your predicament. Your issue here is that you lack manpower. Let me help you out, then.

Nazuna: Huh? No way! How could I possibly make you do that? I invited you here to have fun, not get you to work with me!

Kuro: You don’t have to worry about that. I could visit the amusement park anytime if I wanted to. What isn’t acceptable is turnin’ a blind eye to a friend who’s clearly in need.

Nazuna: Well, if you say so… thanks, Kuro-chin! Uhuu, I really don’t know how else to properly thank you…!

Kuro: Haha, ‘sno problem. Anyways, why don’t ya tell me what needs to be done?

Tomoya: I already talked things through with the staff, would you mind if we did things like this?

Kiryu-senpai, you and I would be stationed at the opposite ends of the plaza distributing balloons, and then Nii~chan who’s got more experience with this will handle the distribution of flyers and answer any follow-up questions the people might have about the event.

Kuro: A’ight, roger that. Don’t worry, I’ve got this.

Nazuna: Everything’s settled, then! Let’s do our best, everyone ♪

Kuro: (Usin’ balloons for promotion… that does make sense. After all, kids would probably prefer cute things like these over a flyer.)

(If that’s the case, then it shouldn’t be a problem to strike up a conversation first, would it?)

Hey there, bud. This blue balloon’s for ya, I hope you have lots of fun today.

…Oi, don’t run backwards! You might… fall…

……

Nazuna: Kuro-chin, you don’t seem to be into this… Don’t force yourself, okay?

Kuro: …Sorry, Nito. I don’t think ‘m suitable for this type of job after all…

I really tried my best to put on the kindest smile I could muster, but in the end, no one wanted a balloon from me… Hell, I even scared a kid to tears.

His parents assured me and said t’was all good, but I still couldn’t help but feel awful.

Nazuna: No, no, you don’t have to feel bad, you did nothing wrong. It’s actually my fault for not thinking things through…

(No, I won’t have it! I can’t let Kuro-chin leave here with a bad memory! He’s the kindest, most gentle guy I know… how can I make everyone else see that…?)

…I’ve got it! We could try that!

You don’t wanna scare the kids away, right? Why don’t you try dressing up as a mascot?

Kuro: So that’s how I ended up lookin’ like this.

A’ight, I should probably go back to help ‘em out. It’s still quite early, you guys should go around and enjoy the park.

Adonis: Are you really going to be alright, Kiryu-senpai? You’ve barely even rested.

Kuro: Haha, don’t underestimate my strength, buddy. This thing’s got nothin’ on the intense trainin’ I always do.

Though, I dunno what’s goin’ on Mashiro’s end, he seems to have more balloons left to give away. I’ll try to check up on him and help him out in a bit.

Koga: Oi! If it’s manpower you need, then you already should’ve just said so! I literally have nothin’ else to do!

Promotin’ shit’s a piece of cake to me! Either way, me just acceptin’ those tickets from ya, ain’t sittin’ right with me.

Adonis: Oogami’s right. Many hands do make light work, after all. Besides, I want to help senpai out too, so please leave this to me.

Kuro: Haha, you guys are pretty insistent, huh. Well, if you guys really insist, follow me.

← Chapter 3 | ES x LC Masterlist | Chapter 5 →

[mmx-code-crimpphire]

Headcanon - X and Zero's Wings

Okay, let’s take a detour from the more serious world building for a sec and get to the building for X and Zero again for a minute, shall we~?

THEIR BIRD WINGS!! Since I haven’t talked about that yet. I’m pretty sure A LOT of people have been wondering about them, and I’ve actually had a few people asking why X was called “Blue Jay” and why Zero is called “Phoenix”.

I did write a headcanon about that, though I might actually make a part 2 to that, I’m not sure haha

ANYWAY UM LMAO

How Zero got his has been a more intricate kinda mini story I developed since 2018, and it hasn’t exactly changed much. And I’ll make it a little brief, since it is part of an arc in the story.

Basically, DR Light gave him the expansion of those wings. And no, if you’re wondering, it doesn’t burn his hair lmao. The fire is there and present, but it’s mostly holographic energy. It isn’t real fire unless Zero wanted to summon real fire for the powerups that come with it.

He can make a powerful flap of those wings and spawn “Fire Tornado”, where he can spout a wave of fire that literally turns into a tornado. I just thought it would be cool at the time of making this. Still kinda do.

Zero’s also the one who comes up with the idea to fly into the moonlit night with X in his arms. Having their first calm and romantic moment since getting together.

And that’s before Xev gets his Blue Jay wings.

Dr Light gives him an additional Armor (how he gives both the boys what he gives them, I won’t spoil why or how just yet huehue) with jet wings and whatnot. Kinda similar to the Falcon Armor, but not as powerful.

Though, after a certain point in the story (dunno when yet, actually), this armor turns into a Blue Jay armor!! Which I will make another post about sometime. But basically, his jet wings turn into Blue Jay wings, and he gets those as an extension as well and uses them quite a bit.

Not as much as Zero uses his after gaining them, but he still uses them, and he uses them in their nights of flying out. Especially if he wants to get used to them flapping to help him fly instead of just using boosters to fly, i.e the Falcon Armor.

NEW CHAPTER ON AO3

[aria-allium]

what has happened in bnha lore wise. <-guy who was out of the fandom in 2019 (aka around overhaul arc?? with eri)

ok i will be so for real right now my understanding of the current plot is mainly what i get through skimming some of the more recent chapters/season 7 episodes and reading fanfic so i'm. not super well versed on details but from what i understand:

1) there were two war arcs, apparently: the paranormal liberation war arc and the one that just wrapped up, the final war arc. i say "apparently" bc before i got back into it i thought those were the same thing, lmfao. but essentially in the paranormal liberation war arc, various pro heroes + class 1a (or maybe all of ua? i'm kind of unclear on that) are fighting against the league of villains + the paranormal liberation front. don't really know much about motivations, but i do know that that's the arc where aizawa loses his leg and his eye, and also the arc where katsuki takes a hit from shigaraki/afo (i'll explain that in a sec) for izuku. the final war arc, on the other hand, honestly do not know a lot about that either outside of how it affects izuku and katsuki specifically. like i know that they're fighting just the league + afo, and i know that the members of the league that are still alive are slowly killed off (or at least defeated if not killed) until it gets to the final fight with shigaraki/afo and Mainly izuku, but others step in along the way too i'm pretty sure. major thing that happens this arc is that this is where the leaks of katsuki lying dead on the ground came from, but don't worry! he got better! he comes back a while later to help fight shigaraki alongside izuku, says some pretty homosexual shit while doing so (such as calling himself "kacchan" to afo's face at one point), and then the final stretch happens where all of class 1a pushes izuku forward to finally defeat shigaraki/afo. yippee!! where the story's gonna go from here i have no idea, but. there's that.

2) i did find out also that the traitor to ua that got hinted at a few times was revealed: it turned out to be aoyama. basically his whole deal is that it turns out he was also quirkless, but his parents, out of fear of him being looked at differently, made a deal with afo to give their son a quirk, hence him having navel laser at the start of the show. i'm pretty sure his parents weren't aware afo was a villain at the time, they just heard rumors of a guy that could give people quirks and were like "oh sweet, our son is saved!" but in exchange for giving aoyama navel laser, afo had him leak information about ua such as where the class would be for festivals/training during his time there so that the lov could attack. fucked up stuff honestly 😭 i'm not 100% sure how that gets resolved but i do know that him and his parents were taken into custody, his parents i think for colluding w afo and aoyama was taken in mainly to ensure that he wouldn't be a danger to ua anymore (as in like. they wanted to make sure afo didn't do anything to him to make him a ticking time bomb. lol!)

3) ok the whole shigaraki sort of being afo thing i will admit i think i know how that actually happened. i'm pretty sure that after the my villain academia arc, shigaraki is modified by dr. garaki (i think that's his name but the same guy that diagnosed izuku quirkless in the beginning) to basically be a new host for afo. so for a while shigaraki, and by extension the league (i think), are out of commission, and then once shigaraki wakes up and is succesfully made the host of afo, they get back out there and do crime, lol. for a while shigaraki acts pretty much the same as he always did with afo's voice in his head in a similar way to the previous ofa users in izuku's head, and then there's a turning point in the paranormal liberation war arc where afo straight up hijacks shigaraki's body, lol, so that's cool. i think he controls shigaraki fully up until the last few chapters of the final war arc too, although i might be wrong abt that.

4) the most recent chapter leaks i did fully read through, so i know what goes down there! basically it takes place one week after the final war, and the first half is dedicated to explaining how recovery efforts are going. not too much major stuff going on there, just mainly people saying they're glad it's over and that people having quirks makes the recovery process easier, but not necessarily better. second half of the chapter is katsuki and izuku in the hospital! they're in separate rooms, katsuki with his parents and a doctor, and izuku in another that he shares w all might (who is alive after all of that btw - i honestly thought he died). katsuki gets told that his right arm might never recover and that he'd be better off with a prosthetic, but he shuts that down and says that he'll kick recovery's ass, lmao. then it switches to izuku and all might talking, with a major thing there being that, in order to defeat shigaraki, izuku had to transfer ofa to him, meaning that all he has left are the embers of ofa, and soon he will be rendered quirkless again (don't ask me why the transfer had to happen btw i have no idea). this is where katsuki bursts in, and upon hearing that izuku only has the embers left he reflects on how he bullied izuku in the past and starts crying, bc he's upset that they won't be able to compete for the number one spot together anymore (this fucked me up btw God). izuku tells him not to worry, all might says some stuff abt both of them being the greatest heroes, they both smile, and then the chapter ends w izuku and his fuckass haircut looking up at ua being rebuilt.

i think that's most of what i know!! sorry i went on for so long, lol, i said i didn't know much at the start but the more i typed the more i realized i actually did know 😂 at some point i might go back and pick up the manga where i left off, bc i am very much intrigued, but idk when that'll happen, so. yeah!!

[kookiecrumb]

How are you so cool with him possibly having a partner( i don't mean to be aggressive. Actually curious how other army are dealing with this). It's breaking my heart. Just the thought of it. Ofcourse he's allowed to have one. But. It is still so sad because I can never have him . My first love. Ugh i know i sound delulu. But lemme just be vulnerable for a sec here.

Jungkook along with bringing me a lot of joy. Also brought heartbreak along with it. I really cannot see myself liking another dude.

Aww well,

The key for me was understanding that doing kpop and being an idol is just a career. Sure it's a very extensive and personal career that requires full-time dedication and a lot of determination, but it's still...just a job.

Sure, Jungkook grew up to be an idol since he was 15. It was his dream. He's living out his career dream right now.

Everybody falls in love, though.

You may think this way now, "fuck, I'll never be good enough for him," or "fuck, I don't ever want anybody else," but there are a lot of diverse, fun, emotionally mature people out there.

I suggest working on yourself first. That's the best way to be able to spot these people. The more you surround yourself with people of value, the more you start good habits towards taking care of yourself.

As for Jungkook, his image as an idol and the way he presents himself to all of us is different than what he might actually be like. He might have some weird dirty or fucked up views that he keeps to himself.

So as much as...idols may present to us the fantasy of having a partner...it's simply not true. It's just like in fanficition. Jungkook is a human. He's not a fairy prince from another planet. He's not a college student from New York or California. He's not an LA realtor and he's definitely not your brother's best friend...unless you're Jiwoo.

It's true. You can never have "him." You can never have Jungkook in the way you see him in your head, and that's because he isn't real.

If the real Jungkook ever ends up with somebody, it'll be just like any other relationship. They'll fight, they'll make up, they'll learn things about one another and configure love itself.

It's just another way that ARMY should wish BTS happiness. We smile, happy that someone is taking care of our boys. They would be the representative of us.

So long as Jungkook is being taken care of and loved...treated right, does it really matter by who?

Jungkook does say he doesn't want to marry until he's 100, though.

Personally, I know he fucks on the downlow. That's the extent of it right now, I think. But then again...who knows?

[painted-crow]

Storage Bunker Snake vs Rapid Fire Bird

This post is an exploration, not an explanation (yet!). I'm still feeling this distinction out and trying to form theories.

A recent recurring topic on the SHC fan Discord has been our Snake secondaries with Bird models and our rapid-fire Birds trying to figure out where the line lives between us.

My current theory is "it's a spectrum, and you have a range you can work in which probably leans one way or the other." I often describe very Snakey looking techniques as part of RF Bird, but I'd have a really hard time trying to use full Snake. I'd really rather know what I'm doing ahead of time and have stuff to work with, especially if the project is risky or has a time limit.

Turns out there is more overlap than we thought, though.

There's a Snake Thing that @mooglesorts and @nounsnlies have dubbed "storage bunker Snake," which is what you get when a Snake takes to designing contingency plans and gathering resources ahead of time for specific situations. They build an "emergency toolkit" to "beef up their improv" (words courtesy of our Snakes themselves).

Their stockpiles aren't as extensive as Birds', and they're very focused on utility and applicability to a specific future situation. Birds like utility too, but we'll also pick things up just because they're shiny/interesting.

Honestly, to me it's more fun if you're using your resources and skills in a way you didn't anticipate when you picked them up: it feels like a very clever and creative hack! But for that kind of improv, Snakes more often use themselves, rather than tools or skills, to influence a situation. They have this sense that they're an integral part of the situation, that they're a factor they can easily change to suit their needs, rather than an outside observer trying to work on the problem and only incidentally being there.

Meanwhile, I have a tendency to vanish when I shift into RF Bird problem solving mode. I drop my masks and mirroring to focus, I get very quiet, and if I'm not actively engaging with people, I'm invisible. People don't notice that I've wandered off for supplies until I show up again with a handful of weird stuff and start tinkering. Then they might ask questions, and I'll absentmindedly explain that hand sanitizer is full of isopropyl alcohol, which is a solvent, and yes I just have butcher's twine in my bag, hang on a sec...

This Step 1: disengage from the problem to Think seems to be a Bird thing. We kinda have to, and it seems like Snakes don't. Once a Bird has a first attempt at a solution in place, we might iterate on it and try to hack it around and make it work better, but that's building on something we've already got, so we can do that faster. We need something to work from, in the same way that a Snake needs continuous input to react to.

(This might actually be a single-player vs multi-player secondary difference, though. Curious what our single-player Snakes have to say about this. @reds-burrow @burnt-oranges feel free to add on!)

The RF Bird way is "hoard Useful Things and hopefully you can use some combination of them to craft the solution you need when you need it." In contrast, Nouns (Snake secondary) actually described prep work as "exploiting a loophole" for something that's "supposed to be done in the moment."

Snake: this feels like cheating

Bird: what? that's just how you get things done, dw it's not cheating

Snake: no it feels like cheating (affectionate)

...Of course, there's also the possibility that I model Snake secondary in specific ways, which I keep coming back to and then dismissing. I need more data from other RF Birds. @magpie-of-a-birb thoughts? Which parts of this do you do?

[starsuh]

do re mi | myg

featuring. min yoongi x reader | 3.2k

summary. while teaching you how to play piano, min yoongi realizes that his dumbass might have feelings for you after all.

genre. fluff | f2l | roommate!au | mutual pining

warnings. a quarter-life crisis and a soft make-out scene at the end

Amongst Min Yoongi's many talents, his sixth sense of knowing when something was bothering you was the one that most oft caught you off guard. Whether it was the intensity in which you slammed a door shut, or the way in which you didn't choose to annoy the fuck out him like you did every other day of the week; he would notice each time. It was only clockwork that he tentatively wrapped his arm around your shoulders when you had collapsed against the couch with perceptible chagrin.

"What's up?" he asked, a simple question that often entailed a more than complicated answer. Peering down at your tightened features, he awkwardly patted your shoulder as if to make known that silence would be just as valid of a reply.

You ran your hands through your face. "I don't know,” you said. If you did, you would've told him, just as you told him everything. Though the pair of you had began as merely two people who happened to be roommates because there were no other affordable options, spending months watching Netflix with another person tends to lead to friendship — even best-friendship, though neither of you had established such a title. It was the kind of friendship that needn't clarification, rather it was just another unequivocal fact amongst many.

After kicking off your shoes (Yoongi would scold you for that in a less emotionally-turbulent time), you pulled your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them in a ball-like manner. "It's really fucking lame but I’m just realizing some things,” he nodded, prompting you to continue. "I'm scared of the future, I think. I mean, everyone is, but when our prof was talking about internships and shit earlier I kind of freaked out then decided that hiding in the bathroom was the best option.”

In his gaze was a reassurance so intent that you had to look away lest you become ensnared in it. He oft had that effect, increasingly so throughout the past few weeks. "What about it?"

Your eyes fluttered closed as you took a deep breath. “I think I know what I want to do, but then I see other people, people like you, who are so passionate about their place on Earth that to not do that thing would be a fate worse than death. Like, I love the path that I’m on but there’s always a voice that’s telling me I’m gonna fuck something up and regret everything.” You played with the loose threads of your top, pulling at the offending stitching. You laughed. “This is so stupid. I guess I’m just realizing that I might not be cut out for it.”

His sudden silence filled the room so heavily that you began to wonder if you shouldn’t have said anything at all. Gears turned behind the messy black mop atop his head that hung over his eyes; a face similar to the one he makes when contemplating a new track he had produced, seeking for each of its flaws and corresponding solutions.

It was so sudden when he reached down to grab your hand that you almost jumped. An inch away from falling onto his chest with the sudden upwards tug, you steeled yourself. "I'll show you something," he said to which you replied with a questioning stare. "It'll just be a sec, c'mon."

You allowed him to drag you to his bedroom, though not without glaring at the back of his head and whining. "Your room smells like Cheetos and day-old boxers."

He rolled his eyes. "I cleaned it this morning, so shut up."

He pushed the door closed with his hip, never once letting go of your hand until he unceremoniously shoved you towards the left end of the keyboard bench. You wiped the accumulated hand sweat against the rough fabric of your jeans, both thankful yet forlorn that he had let go. His was a comfort rarely given and you craved his affection the way one did with a cat that ignored those around it.

He reached down to plug the extension into the socket. "Can I play you something?"

You blinked, unsure if the nervous tone laced in the question was figment or reality. “What?”

He gave you a blank stare though it didn’t distract you from the way his hands fidgeted in his lap. “I said, can I play you something? Something I wrote?”

Impatient, he didn’t give you a second glance or a moment to reply before his hands flew across the board, pulling melodies out of the nooks and crannies of its black and white keys. Through every note, he told you of emotion, of love, of heartbreak and melancholy. You don't think you had ever understood what music was until then. It was more than his expertise, though he was quite the expert; it was the way his eyes closed at certain shrills and the way his shoulders hunched at others, the way he slammed harder into the keys and at other parts softer. He played like a poet. A writer. And you refused to be someone who didn't appreciate it for what it was: a story told to you.

The slight smirk gracing his soft features told you that he found amusing the way your mouth gaped open in shock. You’d only ever heard the distant echoes of his sound from behind closed doors as you walked past.

Yoongi had never played for you before, was even shocked that he was able to now, knowing that your mere presence in close proximity provided quite the distraction.

When he stopped, the air almost rang in its silence, as if you had forgotten what the world sounded like without his music in it. The hush blanket laid across the room felt bare and vulnerable. You understood now more than ever why he locked himself within the confines of his space in all hours of the day. If you could live in his symphonies, you would.

"Wow.” Because what else could be said? "That was... Yoongi, you're amazing."

His smirk remained, though as more of a mask to hide softer feelings behind. "Must've been if you're complimenting me for once.”

"Because you already have a ginormous ego."

He began playing once more. This time, a slow and deceptively simple melody. The chords were arrows tightly strung that flew through the air in wisps of smoke. To you, its warmth was paralleled to the feeling of his own beside you, his arm occasionally brushing yours as he reached to play a few lower keys.

"I think you're taking it too seriously," he said. "The future, I mean."

Your brows furrowed. "I kind of have to, dude."

He rolled his eyes but kept playing, occasionally glancing at you as he did so. "What I mean is," he pressed softly against the keys in the left end of the piano, their tenor notes filling your ears. "You need to calm down. Like this," the already soft melody slowed. "You know what you want, don't you? Why are you hesitating?"

You stilled, the feeling of being both caught and scolded grounding you in time. Your eyes focused on his hands to avoid the feeling of his analyzing gaze on the side of your face. “There are things I want to accomplish but there’s also things I want to have,” you groaned in exasperation. “I don’t know if I should choose the former or the latter but they’re so entangled that I can’t even tell which is which anymore.”

"Some things are only difficult if you think they're difficult." He looked down at the keys. "Like playing the piano, everyone knows that learning it is hard but something like this-" he played three chords in succession. "-sounds simple, right?" He continued to play those same chords until they blended together in a single melodious breeze. "But when I was a kid, learning piano was the bane of my twelve year old existence. I hated it so much because my impatient ass wanted to be good without trying. So, in true dumbass fashion, I quit taking lessons after two weeks."

You tilted your head towards him. “How did you learn then?"

“Well, I realized I was being a huge pussy and went back." Shaking his head before the glaze of the memory could wash over, he nodded towards you. Grabbing your hand, he placed them over the keys. “Can I teach you a chord?”

Your heart spiked in one fell swoop. “What? And embarrass myself in front of the music god himself?"

He laughed and it lit up his eyes brighter than the screen of his laptop that he had forgotten to shut off, still on the League of Legends home screen. “I told you, it's only hard if you think it is."

Too flustered to argue, you could only watch as he directed your fingers towards the correct keys until three were stretched towards their respective positions. C Major. You wondered if he could hear the rapid pace of your heart through the vibrations on your skin from where his larger hand rested atop your own. You could only pray to any god who would listen that he didn’t.

Among the numerous feelings that bubbled beneath your chest, the sudden pinch of ice that struck your nerves as he lifted his palm away from yours was one that you were the most unsure of. Filing that thought away for later, you focused on the most important task at hand: avoiding looking like an idiot in front of Min Yoongi.

Before you could retreat, your hands pressed down.

A sudden burst of sound filled the silence that you hadn't realized had grown so deafening. Your eyes widened as if you hadn't expected the chord to occur despite Yoongi's administrations, like trying to guess a passcode and getting it correct in a miraculous feat of luck. The now fading sound was not like anything you were expecting, though you knew even monkeys could do what you had just done. It was an actual piece of the puzzle that was music rather than the CD case or paper bag that had come with it.

Likened to an excited pup, you looked towards him for praise or assurance that you had done it right only to catch his already grinning countenance at your widened eyes.

For the next half hour he taught you two other basic chords, never failing to correct you in such a patient manner that your heart rose and fell with each glance and soft appraisal.

"But sometimes," he grinned. "Sometimes you need to stop thinking."

Your brows furrowed, though you didn’t need more than a few seconds to understand his cryptic wording before you yelped, almost flying off your seat at the abrupt disruption of the peace.

He began smashing his hands against the piano, creating the worst orchestra your ears had ever had the pleasure to hear. Overcoming the shock, both of yours laughs bubbled out, drowned by the keyboard speakers. Without a second thought, you joined, key smashing against the lower end. Together, you created an ear-grating masterpiece of cacophonous noise and piercing melody, yet it was still one of the most beautiful things you’d ever heard.

Yoongi began cheering your name like the greatest hypeman in existence as you gave the most effortful performance of your life, hands pressing against the first keys you saw to the last. You didn't know what you were doing but it didn't matter, not when he was smiling with his gums on full display as you went with your gut for the first time in years. Yoongi, the boy whose hands crafted magic, whose words changed you, whose music moved you. Yoongi, who looked at you and saw past your forced pretensions and society-enforced perceptions.

You laughed until your lungs ached for air, having not even realized that your whole body leant against his as you tried to catch your breath.

"Oh my god, I think my ears are broken," you covered them, finally dragging your hands away from the keys.

His grin widened. “You're a quick learner."

“Is this the part where I say that it's because you're a good teacher?"

“Only if you're polite, which we know you aren't." He hadn't stopped smiling and you had never felt prouder of any accomplishment in your entire life. “Was I able to distract you?"

You laughed, bringing your hands back to your lap to fiddle with them. He's seen you wear the same ramen-stained hoodie three days in a row with hair just as ratty yet you had never more felt exposed. “I’d say yes but I think I’ve exceeded my Yoongi compliment limit for the day."

"And here I was thinking that that compliment limit was zero."

"Hey," you playfully knocked against his shoulder. "I always say your breakfast is good."

He knocked against you back, his eyes turnt to half-moons. "That's because you want to brainwash me into cooking for you everyday with half-assed compliments."

"Or maybe," you lightly leaned against his hoodie-covered shoulder. "It's because I like eating breakfast with you."

He paused, and a grin that could only be described as shy graced his features. He tapped against the keyboard but didn't press hard enough to allow a sound to be let out.

"I trust you," he said in the silence. "That you can follow your heart. Even if that sounds corny as fuck, I really believe it."

You smiled, something you've been doing more and more often with him around. "I'll try," you said, watching as he contemplated his next words with a bite of his bottom lip. Giving him time, you glanced back at the piano. "Is it really that simple?" You pressed on a key.

He finally looked up. "I think so," he played the key beside the one you had just pressed, the side of it touching yours. "Even if it doesn't sound right to other people, who's to say that random key smashing isn't music? When you think you're supposed to play a certain way, that's when you hesitate. Even when you fuck up a piece," he pressed another key. "Regretting it doesn't stop the echo."

He began to play another soft melody, leaving you just as entranced as you were the first time he did.

“I’m a hypocrite, though,” he closed his eyes, lightly scoffing. “Giving you advice that I can’t even take.”

Your voice came out in a whisper. “Why?”

“Because...” He took a deep breath, hands leaving the keyboard as he fully turned to you. “I like you," he said it like it were a fact you should've already known. “I... I like you. A lot. I can't remember when you stopped being my annoying roommate who'd hog the fridge space and became the annoying roommate who I couldn't stop writing songs about. Before I could even realize and stop myself, today’s me kept looking forward to tomorrow’s you. I’d be a hypocrite to tell you to stop hesitating about the things in your life while I spent every second of every day wondering whether I should tell you my feelings and ruin our friendship.”

For if there was anything Yoongi knew more than most was that love was fucking stupid. It caused people to be irrational, selfless, and weak-hearted, yet why did he want to forget the stupidity that came with it whenever you walked into the kitchen for breakfast, hair messy and shirt tousled?

Love was fucking stupid. But maybe he could be an idiot if it meant that you'd be stupid for him too.

“I know you don't feel the same way but I just needed to tell-" you kissed him before he could finish what was sure to be a sentence so ridiculous that even the most astute of linguists would be left baffled. He was Min Yoongi. The boy who spent all day locked in his room making music and playing games with his friends. The roommate who'd wake up early just to cook you breakfast. The friend who knew you better than you knew yourself. The man who you'd found yourself falling for with every gummy smile. Yoongi. It had always been Yoongi.

And he was kissing you back.

His lips were as warm as the hands that carefully wrapped around your hips, gently pulling you closer to him. He kissed the way he played, soft and thoughtful.

Pulling away, he whispered your name slowly, prolonging each letter as if to savor them. Never before had your name ever felt so wonderful a one. His forehead pressed against yours, eyes flickering between yours in disbelief. The hand around your waist tightened as if in fear that at any moment you might say that you hadn't meant to give him what had to be the best moment of his life -- that you had actually accidentally fallen on him and he had simply been mistaken.

"You're an idiot," you laughed. "I've liked you since the first time you've cooked me breakfast if the heart eyes I gave you each time weren't already a dead giveaway."

He shuffled in his seat. "You have low standards then," he said. "Or are in desperate search for a house-husband."

You smiled, your nose brushing against his. "Maybe, a bit of both."

He leaned away from you, eyes lit up in a euphoria that didn't hinder from his nervous cadence. "Actually, that song I played for you? Earlier?” You’d never seen him blush before. “I, maybe, composed it thinking of you.”

"A personal chef, jester, and composer? I think I'm winning."

His nose crinkled. "You know you can still back out, right?"

"You're acting as if I'd even want to."

"Stupid songs like that... I suck at love yet I still want to give you everything," he whispered, voice hoarse. "But my everything will still only amount to that."

"If that's your everything,” your hands interlocked with his. “Then your everything is more than enough."

"I like you," he murmured the confession between your lips as if it were clandestine, the urge to say it a million times more bubbling up from his chest. Though stronger than his urge to say it was his urge to hear you say it back.

Your lips met his completely. Perfectly. "I like you, too."

Pulling away once more you couldn't help but laugh at the reddened color of his cheeks and ears. Cutting away at the awkward and still unsure tension, he inched backwards with a startlingly loud clap of his hands. "Now that that's settled, can we go back to making out? This corny shit is so awkward."

"I can't believe I like you," you groaned but kissed him back anyway.

While there was nothing in your life that you could be sure of, you knew that the man whose smile could light up the entire city of Seoul would be there for you for every step, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

[clumsyclifford]

ok hello i absolutely love all ur fics, you’ve just got a certain quality in ur writing that is just… mmm. yeah so anyway, do you have any advice on how to improve or just how to write?? (especially fic cause personally i struggle with that more than original stuff??)

hello!! that is very kind of you to say thank you <3

advice on how to write. oh boy. oh man. well i can try. i will do my best. i will also try to be brief but we all know how that song goes

update from having finished answering this: alright. okay. this is not only long, but decidedly english teacher-y. i’m sorry that i am the way that i am. this is what you get for asking a leo for writing advice. am i joking? maybe. maybe not. anyway. this post got away from me in a big way so here’s a read more. warning: LONG post under the cut.

1. study your characters. for RPF like the band stuff i write, that literally means watching interviews, watching them perform, seeing how they interact with each other, picking up on their mannerisms (behavior) - what they do with their hands, if they repeat themselves or stutter when they talk, the quality of their voice when they're talking about different things, and so on. also keep track of things they mention a lot in interviews especially about each other - for example jack has mentioned before that alex has an annoying habit of twirling his hair when he zones out. that kind of thing. IMPORTANT NOTE!: you don’t have to use all of this information. just like studying for anything, you collect all the information you can and then you parse through it and use whatever you think will contribute or be relevant to your story.

2. remember that characters are people. or at least they’re representing people, which is an important distinction (see #3). still, considering that your characters are people can be a helpful way to get out of your head. see, characters are supposed to be archetypical, and fulfill a role, and say certain things in certain ways and never really deviate from that. but people are highly unpredictable and behave in random ways for random reasons and have thought processes that are unfathomable. people will just do fuckin’ whatever. if you’re worried that your characters aren’t behaving in a believable way, keep in mind that you’re trying to make your characters represent people, and people’s behavior is justifiable any number of ways. people just do shit.

3. remember that characters are not people. sike! no but seriously, this is just as important to remember. unfortunately, no matter how hard you try, characters are never going to be people. that’s a good thing for stories, though. characters can pick up on nuance in senses that people can’t - they can distinguish between different facial expressions, different smells, different sounds - BUT ONLY INSOFAR AS IT MOVES THE STORY ALONG. in other ways, characters are ridiculously oblivious. you can use this to your advantage. in fact, a lot of the time, you have to. if your character notices right away that someone is flirting with him, then you can’t write a 30k slow burn, for example. characters don’t do that thing humans do where they go “what?” but then halfway through the re-explanation they register what’s been said. pretty much everything characters say has meaning. (by this i don’t mean semantic meaning, i mean significance - characters don’t really just say “what?” because they didn’t hear what someone said, they say “what?” because they can’t believe it or they don’t understand it or they refuse to understand it. characters never seem to run into the didn’t-hear-them problem. must be nice.)

characters can do whatever you want or need them to do, because you’re in charge of them. (sometimes this doesn’t feel true - mine do all kinds of shit and i just have go “well alright then” - but it is true.) they are gears in a story. you decide when and how they turn.

4. dialogue is your friend. i am super super biased here, because i looove writing dialogue. if you talk to sam about this i’m sure she would say that description and narration are the ways to go. but you came to me, so i get to say that dialogue is god. i don’t want to say that dialogue is the only method of communication (i know nonverbal communication is real), but dialogue is the fastest and most effective method of communication, and by extension, the most effective way to advance relationships between characters. now. obviously there are exceptions. if characters are kissing, they’re probably not doing a lot of talking. if they’re trying to be undercover or discreet, they’re more likely to rely on gestures and facial expressions than speaking. if you’re writing a very peaceful scene, you might not want to undercut it by adding a lot of chit-chat. but i maintain that dialogue is the best way to move a story along, for a few reasons. 

first, at least for me, too much description is just tiring. depending on how skillful the writer is (sam), i can read a fair amount before i hit my limit, but unlike in mean girls, the limit DOES exist. you don’t want to over-describe the world (see #5). second, i find that dialogue is a really really good indicator of a person’s character. this is especially true and relevant in fanfiction, which is a lot more character-driven than original fiction in many ways. also, in a sec i’m gonna talk about showing [not/and] telling, which is every english teacher’s bitch, but dialogue is a really good way of showing who a person is and also a good way to establish facts about the universe. you could just narrate and be like “Jack hated waking up early,” and that works and in many cases it’s perfectly legit. but you could also do something like this:

“What the fuck,” Jack mumbled, still half asleep. “You better have a really fucking good reason to be waking me up this early. Like someone better have fucking died.”

and sometimes that’s just a more fun way to say it. (for the record you can also show AND tell here! there’s no reason why you can’t have this line of dialogue and then a line in the narration confirming how very much jack is not a morning person!)

the last reason why i am particularly fond of dialogue is because i am also particularly fond of communication, which is a preference thing. let’s face it, guys: characters aren’t gonna communicate if they’re not literally actually talking to each other. dialogue means talking to each other. talking to each other means solving problems, fixing (or creating) conflicts, understanding each other better. i love communication, ergo, i love dialogue. And You Should Too. 

5. describe the world, but don’t over-describe. i opened this fic earlier and it was like “jack was excited to wake up to go to his first class at the university of baltimore” and i just. i was like is this really relevant. do i really need to know this. and i never found out because i closed the fic but in my defense it was on wattpad and i had only opened it out of curiosity. look. there are three ways to use details in fic. (a) introduce them right away (b) introduce them when they become relevant or (c) don’t introduce them at all. let me give you some examples. 

(a) say your character A (i’m using jack because i’m used to him) wakes up. he’s in his room in his house off-campus. character B (rian) walks into the room. this might be a good time to explain that rian is his housemate. to that point: “show not tell” is a good rule, but sometimes “show and tell” is just as good. e.g.: 

Rian walks in, holding Jack’s Green Day shirt and looking irritated. That’s really nothing new; Rian looks irritated at Jack roughly once a day. Being housemates for a year will do that to a friendship.

boom, now you’ve let everyone know they live together without throwing it in their face, and you’ve also told everyone that these two guys are friends and have been friends for at least a year but probably longer. you showed it by having rian walking in holding jack’s shirt - usual housemate behavior - but you also told it in a subtle way that established the relationship and some kind of history between these two. well done.

(b) sometimes you want a certain detail to make an impact. this is the kind of thing you hold onto and don’t specify, and in certain cases you leave the reader wondering, “well what about x?” and then when you finally explain x they go ohhhhhhhhhh. yknow. the italicized oh. consider the following:

(A)

“Alex is in my bio class,” Rian says, referring to Jack’s ex-boyfriend of last year.

Jack frowns. “So? Why should I care?”

“He’s my lab partner,” Rian says. “I have to spend a lot of time with him.”

“I don’t care what you and Alex do,” Jack says. “But you should know he sucks at bio.”

Rian gives Jack a look. “First of all, that’s not true, he’s incredibly smart. And second, I’m telling you as a courtesy, because I thought you might not want your ex-boyfriend hanging around our house after he broke your fucking heart.”

(B)

“Alex is in my bio class,” Rian says.

Jack frowns. “So? Why should I care?”

“He’s my lab partner,” Rian says. “I have to spend a lot of time with him.”

“I don’t care what you and Alex do,” Jack says. “But you should know he sucks at bio.”

Rian gives Jack a look. “First of all, that’s not true, he’s incredibly smart. And second, I’m telling you as a courtesy, because I thought you might not want your ex-boyfriend hanging around our house after he broke your fucking heart.”

the only difference between these two excerpts (which i just wrote lol they’re not from anything real) is that the second one doesn’t explain who alex is right away. that makes it way more interesting when rian reveals who alex is a few lines later. magic.

(c) take this college au that we’ve established here. where does it take place, you ask? easy answer: it doesn’t matter. you don’t need to say what school they’re at. this will make your job easier, because then no one can fact check you, and it also means you don’t have to decide what school they’re at. but even if you do decide, it’s not usually necessary to say. believe me, you can go thousands of words without ever needing to specify what school they’re at. you know why? because it doesn’t matter. and no one cares. and as soon as you specify in canon that they’re at a particular school, you are bound to be accurate to everything that school does, and that makes your job way more difficult than it needs to be. as hazel once said, work smarter, not harder. 

6. adverbs are also your friend. (yknow, words that describe verbs, typically ending in -ly, like “loudly” or “angrily” or “smoothly”.) ESPECIALLY when it comes to dialogue tags. (dialogue tags are the things you add to dialogue to say who’s talking and how they’re talking - like “he said” or “he whispered” or “he earnestly explained” or whatever). a lot of the writing advice you’ll see nowadays will usually guide you away from overusing dialogue tags other than the classic “says/said” and i STRONGLY concur with that advice. things like yelled, cried, mumbled, snapped - these are very good in moderation, when you’re really trying to emphasize the way a person is speaking. the more you use them, the less impact they have. in most cases, a simple “he said [adverb]” will do. instead of “he snapped” consider “he said curtly/sharply/coldly.” instead of “he mumbled” consider “he said quietly/clumsily/softly.” I WANT TO MAKE IT CLEAR THAT THESE ARE NOT DIRECT SYNONYMS. every word has a nuanced and slightly different meaning and that is the BEAUTY of the english language!!!! all i’m saying is that in many cases, a verb can be replaced with an adverb to achieve roughly the same effect, without making the reader feel like they’re scanning a thesaurus.

and speaking of a thesaurus: it’s not cheating to use outside resources like thesaurus.com to help you come up with words. i fuckin love thesaurus.com. i use that shit all the time for everything. i use it when i’m writing emails. i used it just now to write that last paragraph. thesaurus.com is your BEST friend.

7. grammar. (and spelling but that’s really a given.) unfortunately if i tried to teach you all of the essential rules of grammar this post would exceed tumblr’s previously-nonexistent word count limit. so i’m not gonna teach you any of them. this is just a general point to suggest that if/when you’re writing, have someone you trust, with a good grasp of grammar, look over it. of course it doesn’t have to be perfect or AP style or anything like that. readers will overlook a certain amount of grammar mistakes and every reader has a different threshold. but in general, as a grammar geek and former journalism editor-in-chief, i have a duty to my grammurai code to preach the importance of grammar in writing. good grammar does not necessarily mean good writing and vice versa, bad grammar does not necessarily mean bad writing, but bad grammar makes good writing a lot harder to read, and in some cases will even obscure your actual meaning. so please, have someone read it. for the record this is me offering up my services. i am very good at fixing grammar. i have lots of weaknesses in writing but grammar is one of my strengths. please prioritize grammar. thank you for coming to my ted talk.

***

okay so now that i’ve said all of this shit and pretended to be an expert and embodied everyone’s tenth grade english teacher, let me add one very important disclaimer:

none of this is always relevant.* writing is an art, not a science. you are never going to be following all of the rules, all of the time. you shouldn’t. it’s good to know the basics of constructing a plot, establishing a character, showing and/not telling, moving the story along. but a lot of this advice is really subjective and heavily influenced by my writing experience and habits and tendencies and preferences, and those are simply not generalizable to the world. i am a sample size of one and science dictates that that means my results cannot be statistically significant. i am just some guy. earlier i said you don’t want to over-describe the world. but maybe you do! maybe you’re really into worldbuilding and you want people to know what they’re getting into. maybe you’re like sam, and you just don’t feel as confident in your dialogue skills but you love painting word pictures. i said that adverbs are your friend, but maybe you just prefer to use verbs. maybe you don’t want ANY dialogue tags and you want the reader to interpret the dialogue based on context and content. i said that characters aren’t people and they won’t behave like people, but maybe you’re trying to write hyper-realistic characters. maybe you’re just going for believability over narrative. WHATEVER. the point is, rules are made to be broken. no one is going to have The Answer for How To Write Good because there isn’t just one answer. every single writing rule has exceptions and you can be that exception as many times as you want.

*except grammar. grammar is fucking always relevant.

i hope any of this advice was helpful to you, even though i english teacher-ed the fuck out of it. and for what it’s worth, i approached this as if you were a relatively novice writer, but i know absolutely jack shit about your writing prowess and experience and habits. so maybe you already know all of this and none of what i’ve said is helpful at all. if you have a more specific problem, i would be happy to try and help. if you’re hoping for more specific feedback, i’d have to read something of yours first - but again, happy to try and help. i don’t know if you can tell but i loooove writing and english and grammar and all of this shit and it would be my honor. i have now spoken so long that james madison himself is begging me to shut up so i’ll stop here but thank you for coming by and giving me the opportunity to expatiate a shit ton. and GOOD LUCK i forgot the most important advice of writing which is HAVE FUN LOVE WHAT YOU WRITE AND WRITE WHAT YOU LOVE OKAY BYE

[voiceless-terror]

For the comfortober!!!! If you'd like to do some of them, might I request "Back to school/work"??? Picturing Jon, after being v sick, or recovering from an injury finally coming back to work, maybe recovered, maybe not?? And the crew just totally fussing over him ??

Here you are! Just in time for day 25.

The situation at hand is not ideal.

He’d been carrying boxes, heavy, cumbersome things that blocked his field of vision as he made his way to Document Storage. Tim had cast a disapproving eye; Jon’s not the most coordinated, he knows that. But the least he could do was carry a few boxes of statements to their proper filing place. 

But he managed to, in Tim’s retelling, ‘completely eat shit’ as his leg came in contact with an errant box, causing the one he was carrying to go flying and Jon to fall unceremoniously on the ground with an audible crack. 

Everything’s a bit blurry after that.

He remembers an intense pain in his ankle- he’s been here before, his bones are not the most stable structures (it’s a shame they’re tasked with holding his body together). But that didn’t make the pain any less. Surprisingly, it was Martin who took charge, showing a competence Jon had never seen applied to his research or his Latin translations. He picked him up, managing to avoid putting any pressure on his ankle and summarily put him in a cab, despite Jon’s many refutations that he was fine. 

He stopped that after Martin shot him a very unimpressed look.

He paid the cab driver and Jon let him- the pain was starting to make his brain foggy and his stomach nauseous. Martin waited the full two hours it took to get him admitted, even letting him fall asleep on his shoulder in one very embarrassing instance that he hopes will never see the light of day. The result of his clumsiness- a broken ankle, a cast, and a set of crutches that he threw into the closet as soon as he got home. He had a cane, that should be fine. 

Martin followed him to the door, making sure he was settled on the couch and fixing him a cup of tea as if Jon were an invalid. Sure, the painkillers he was on did not allow for much thinking, but he could manage to take care of himself. When Martin suggested staying a while, just to make sure he was fine, Jon found himself snapping a “No!” and breaking Martin out of his competent stupor. He shook his head a bit, turning red and letting out a nervous laugh. “I’ll uh, leave you to it then. Let me know if you need anything.” On his way out, he turned to him, face serious. “And don’t even think about coming in tomorrow.” He wasn’t- he’s not a complete idiot.

Okay, maybe he did briefly consider it the next morning. But the soreness had intensified, and he knew he probably wouldn’t be able to make it without breaking another bone.

Getting around was...difficult, to say the least. He spent most of the day on the couch, dry swallowing ibuprofen as the painkillers the hospital prescribed were a bit too strong, despite the ease they provided. God, it was so boring. He wished he had the foresight to bring work home. But his assistants’ texts ignored any query about work, only focusing on well wishes and asking if he ‘needed anything.’ What he needed was to do his job. If he was going to be motionless, he might as well be motionless behind a desk.

The next day, the train ride nearly kills him.

Jon manages to find a seat; people are generally sympathetic when they see a cane and a cast. He should’ve taken a cab, of course, but that seemed a little extravagant. He can manage a few steps.

Probably should’ve brought the crutches as well, but they seemed too unwieldy. When he tried them in his flat they’d put too much pressure under his arms, and he wasn’t sure how to go about adjusting them; he quickly got frustrated and threw them to the side. Patience was never one of his strong suits.

But the pain is unimaginable. By the time he gets into work, he’s huffing and puffing, on the verge of passing out. He’d taken ibuprofen again that morning, but it’s doing very little to help him out. As soon as Rosie catches sight of him, she makes sympathetic cooing noises and attempts to take his bag from him.

“Poor thing,” she says after he refuses for the third time. “Are you sure you don’t need help downstairs?”

Quite sure.

The stairs intensify the aching in his joints and he’s sure every one of his assistants hears the tell-tale thump of his cast landing awkwardly on each step. He’s met with three concerned stares, all tinged with exasperation and disappointment. He’s been eliciting those reactions a lot these days.

“Didn’t Elias approve a week of paid leave?” Sasha asks, immediately attempting to take his bag, just like Rosie. And just like with Rosie, he dodges her arms, letting out an involuntary hiss as he puts pressure on his injury. “Honestly Jon, you should’ve stayed home.”

“And where are your crutches, mister?” Tim’s leaning against the wall, looking for all the world like a disappointed parent. “I happen to know that a cane’s not sufficient when you’re in a cast like that. Not to mention uncomfortable, dragging it all around London. What were you doing, hopping down the street?”

“I had a seat on the train, thank you very much,” he says, attempting to hobble away as fast as he can to take refuge in his office. This was all very overbearing. 

“You took the train-?” Martin’s incredulous voice is cut short by a slammed door.

Peace and quiet. His office has always been a nice place to suffer in private.

Not that it remains so for long.

Martin comes in not minutes later, bearing a cup of tea accompanied by a few biscuits. “You don’t seem like much of a breakfast-type,” Martin surmises correctly, “And you’ll need to eat something with the medication they’ve got you on.” Jon does not mention he’s not currently on said medication. It sits in his pocket, heavy and accusing. Instead, he just grunts, barely deigning to raise his eyes from the work in front of him. The door shuts and Jon nibbles at the food before his stomach tells him this is a bad idea. 

He does eventually (and very reluctantly) call one of them in- he still wants to go through the files from two days prior, but he’s going to need a bit of help to get there. Tim doesn’t help him walk, however, instead pushing his office chair into Document Storage with surprising care, and helps him prop his leg up on a box to keep it elevated. Tim hands him the files one by one, sorting by date- it’s an easy, companionable task. Tim always was one of his favorite researchers to work with; there’s a reason he asked him to join his team. He’s wearing a jumper in a nice, deep blue shade. Jon is not immune to Tim’s charm or looks, but he’s mostly preoccupied with how warm it looks. His own button down and sweater vest are barely doing the job.

After about thirty minutes of this, his leg starts to ache- the stretch is no longer pleasant, and he attempts very gingerly to place his ankle on the ground. Needless to say, it does not work out very well. If the chair had about two more inches, his foot could dangle without putting undue pressure on his joints. Alas, the chair is already at its highest. 

Tim notices his fidgeting, zeroing in on the pain in his face. “Need a break?”

Jon sighs. “I’d rather get this box done, at the very least.”

Tim looks thoughtful at this. “Hold on- give me a sec.” He leaves the room but returns rather quickly, two pillows from the break room couch in tow. “Here- lean on me for a mo’, will you?” Jon manages to get to his feet relatively painlessly, leaning most of his weight on Tim’s shoulders as he puts the pillows down as a cushion, lifting him the desired inches he needs. “Better?” Tim smirks, clearly proud of his achievement.

“Much, thank you,” he admits, just happy to continue working. The throbbing is getting worse with each passing minute. They’re eventually interrupted by Sasha, who announces that she’s gotten takeout for everyone- Indian, Jon’s favorite. Elaborate and unnecessary, but appreciated. 

Ten minutes later and he’s sitting in the break room with the rest of them, picking at his curry. He knows he should eat; his mind registers the hunger, but it's hard to feel through all of the pain. Ibuprofen’s just not going to cut it. With great reluctance, he pulls the bottle of pills out of his pocket, unscrewing the cap. Martin notices.

“About time for your next dosage, I reckon?” he questions innocently. Martin doesn’t know he never took the first one, and Jon would like to keep it that way. He can’t handle any more thoughtfulness and care from the man. So he just nods, swallowing two pills and chasing them with water. If he can manage a few more bites of curry, it should be fine. 

What he didn’t keep in mind is his original reaction to the medication- that strange, loopy feeling that had him leaning on Martin the entire cab ride home. About thirty minutes later, it starts to hit. And all he can think about is Tim’s jumper.

It just looked so warm. Jon wants a jumper like that. Maybe he has a jumper like that? He’ll have to check when he’s home. There’s a lot of stuff in his closet- dumb things, remnants from his college days. Probably a few of Georgie’s jumpers. Maybe Georgie’s jumpers are that warm? But none of them are that nice shade of blue. Jon wants a jumper like that, yeah. In a nice shade of blue. He’s going to ask Tim where he got it from. But he’s got to be discreet. What if Martin overhears? And then Martin gets the jumper? They can’t all wear the same jumper, that’s ridiculous. He’s already going to have to coordinate with Tim, make sure they don’t wear it on the same day. Jon’s a grown man, he can’t go around matching his employees.

He lifts the phone, dialing Tim’s extension. It only rings once before Tim’s cheerful voice answers. “What’s up, bossman? Everything alright?”

“Tim,” he whispers, just in case anyone’s listening. “Tim, I need you to come to my office...immediately.” No, he has to give a reason or he’ll be suspicious. Why would he call Tim into his office? “Reports, Tim. Research. Bring...your research. Yes. Goodbye.” That seemed natural enough.

For some reason, all three of his assistants are at the door. No, that’s not what he wants. Not what he wants at all. “I only need Tim.” He’s still whispering for some reason. “The rest of you go away.”

They don’t, pesky things they are. Tim moves closer, face both concerned and amused. “What’s going on, Jon?” He beckons him closer- he’s so blurry, it’s hard to focus. When he gets within grabbing distance he tugs at his sleeve, forcing him close to his face. “Er, boss-”

“Tim,” Jon’s eyes are wide with urgency. “Tim, I need to know where- where you got your jumper.”

Tim makes a face, somewhere between amused and confused. Jon does not understand what’s difficult about this question. It’s very straightforward. “Um, sorry? My jumper?”

“Yes!” His voice gets louder, though he doesn’t mean it to. “It’s just- it looks so warm. And it’s so soft.” His voice starts to wobble and his eyes water as he runs his thumb across the fabric. It’s a very good jumper. “Such a nice shade of blue.”

“Okay, did you take one too many of those pills? You weren’t like this earlier.” Tim’s got one arm on Jon’s chest, attempting to stop his wandering hands as his eyes search the desk. “I swear to god, if you’ve overdosed-”

“Don’t be stupid, Tim.” Why won’t he let him touch the jumper? Does Tim not want him to be warm? Rather rude. “I only took two today.”

“Wait, seriously?” It’s Martin’s voice he hears next. “Oh, Jon. You must have been in so much pain.”

“Obviously, Martin!” The snap comes as naturally as breathing- Jon’s an old hand at that, after all. “But that’s not the point-”

“Whoa there, buddy. No need to get tetchy.” Tim’s got both of his hands on his shoulders, his eyes now patient and kind. “You’re high as hell, aren’t you? Think you should probably have a rest right about now, yeah?”

Jon can’t help the whine that comes out of his throat. Rest? No, he wants-

“I swear I’ll tell you where I got the jumper. Hell, I’ll even get one for you if I can. But only if you sleep.”

Jon sighs wearily. If I must. “That sounds reasonable. Thank you, Tim.” He allows himself to be led to a couch, limping all the way. Oh, that’s quite nice. Yes, that’ll do. Tim arranges a pillow beneath his head, and Jon hopes it's not the one he sat on before. His stomach growls, and a thought occurs to him; he grabs at Tim’s arm again, forcing him down to his level.

“Jon, I told you I’d-”

“No, that’s not it. I-I threw out some biscuits earlier. Please send my apologies to Martin.” 

Tim’s face is fond. “Will do, boss.”

“And perhaps you could secure me a few more for later.”

A soft snort. “I’m sure I can.”

“Tim, you are invaluable to me.”

“God I wish I had this on tape-”

A soft click sounds from somewhere in the room as if in response. Tim blinks. “Did you hear that?”

Jon doesn’t answer, already halfway towards sleep. 

“Huh. Alright, then.”

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27715163

[likesomekindofcheese]

Baby, It’s Cold Outside! (Ben Hardy x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: You are excited to be with your new boyfriend, Ben, for Christmas in a cabin. But a sudden snowstorm means it’s just you two alone without your families. You use the time to get to know each other a little bit better...

Warnings: brief smut-ish scene (nothing super graphic but right on the line), language, mentions of sex, swearing, mentions of families, reader being insecure, Christmas, but otherwise full of fluff

Word Count: 3K

Hello there @asphalt-cocktail​. It’s I! Your puppy Secret Santa!!! I hope you enjoy it! This is for @thosequeenboys​ and @warriorteam1924​‘s Get Down, Give Joy Event. Thank you guys for organizing something so fun that brought creativity and light in this especially dark year!

“Y/N! Your bag’s ready?! Blimey-snow’s pouring down!”

Looking down at the Dungeon’s Master Guide peeking out of your bag, you stuffed it before he walked out of the cabin and could see. You hoped he wouldn’t notice. No, not Ben. Not your new boyfriend. Your new, perfect boyfriend.  You thought you could sneak a peek when he was gone to plan a campaign with some  friends. But he couldn’t no. No.

Looking out, the snow falling lightly down onto your hat, you shrugged, pretending to admire it while still holding your bags.

“It’s just so pretty…and…uh, I was thinking, we could make some hot chocolate! It’s in the big blue carrier…” you improvised, pointing to the blue bag still in the car.

He gave you a biting smile and went to retrieve it. Taking in a deep breath, you stepped inside, your hands getting used to the warmth again.

Besides, you were supposed to be focused on just Ben and your family. That was what the cabin was for. A cabin that had everything: a location in the snow-inclined woods, two floors, a fireplace, and a few basics.

But as Ben opened the blue bag and excitedly got the canister, you realized at least one basic had already gone dry.

“What do you mean we’re out of hot chocolate?” Ben questioned.

You let out a little laugh at the slight pout as he tapped the container and saw two measly tablespoons of chocolate powder. You went to him and wrapped your arms around.

“We’ll get more at the store,” you promised.

He sighed in deep, accepting the feeling of your arms. Limbs stiff from travel, the stretch felt divine.

“Besides, we need to go to that grocery. I don’t know what people will bring but we need all of the basics for the family…when they get here…”

You saw lots of your decorations from home were pre-moved there into big, blue bins. Everything was set. What was missing was the people. The one element that could make or break a holiday.

“Hmm…we should get started. It’s a sad sight to come into a place that’s not decorated…” Ben suggested.

The twinkly ornaments jingled as you unwrapped them from their plastic Looking at the great green fir in the main room in the corner from the fireplace, you wrapped the tin on a bauble around a branch.

The box seemed to have every ornament in the world. It was full of tinsel that was even longer than Ben was tall. You wrapped it around together like a woman dressing in a crinoline skirt. In an hour, golden and red baubles blossomed like fruit on the greenery. Placing them on, they felt so fragile that it moved you with the tenderness Ben’s hands had when he held them. It made you chew on the inside of your lip a bit to watch him fondle them and wrap them on gently. Reminding you of every time he used them otherwise…

Which was why you could not mess up your first Christmas as a couple.

“Do you know where on Earth the topper is?” he asked.

Looking around, you noticed a little star that seemed to be the topper. It had a bottom that looked like it could latch securely to the top bit of a tree. But there was a big black button right near it.

“Huh.”

Creeping down to a plug, you put it in and pressed the button in curiosity.

At once, the star began to radiate disco lights and twirled around in a circle in a mechanical ‘whhhrrrrr” as it blasted a funky “We wish you a merry Christmas.”

Ben jumped in surprise and cursed.

“Oh my gosh…all these fancy decorations and…and this…it’s just so corny, oh my gosh!” you guffawed, wiping away a tear from laughing.

Ben found himself laughing a little too, taking it in his own hands to watch it.

“Phew okay…but let’s get it on…” he said, orderly as ever.

“Can I put it on top of the tree this time! Please!” you begged, along with fake puppy eyes.

“Alright, give it a go…” he offered.

As you stepped on a chair to reach it, you waved your arm up to get it, but you couldn’t quite reach it. Even with your arms stretched high as it could go. It was still a good deal taller than you.

“Argh!”

“You’re the one who wanted to put it on the tree!” he teased, his cheeks turning pink from the sight of you.

“Could you help me!” you asked with a slight pout.

“Of course!”

He wrapped his large arms around your waist and hoisted you up. He grunted a little bit and you felt him walk back and forth to try to keep his footing. When he was secure you kept trying to reach the topper up, but somehow you kept missing it and giggling when you did.

“Just! Put! It! On!” Ben huffed.

Finally, you reached the top and got it on. Using an extension, it was plugged in and the gaudy little top could do its magical swirl again.

Ben placed an arm around your shoulder as you watched the tree in completion.

“It’s…it’s beautiful…” he admitted.

At once your phone rang in your pocket. You ran over to pick it up and recognized the voices of your family.

They explained it plainly, but it was still sad.

“Wha…what is it? “ Ben asked, his eyes softening at the worry on your face.

“Ben…there’s going to be a huge blizzard…they already got it and…they’re stuck home. They can’t join us out of safety.”

You both sighed and he gave you a hug.

“There…it’s alright, we can make it work. The two of us…” Ben assured, patting your back. Your chest hurt with disappointment, but his hugs were always so nice and soft.

“We’ll have to wait until new years to see them…and I was so excited…”

“We can make it work. I mean-it’s a cabin in the snow, Y/N. Could be worse…”

Both of you rushed to the store. People were already there trying to get what they could before the storm could get there. Ben insisted going to the liquor store to get what drinks were available. Though among some favorite ales and beers of his, he got two bottles of champagne.

“Huh…why the bubbly?” you asked, leaning forward in your cart to see the silver wrapper around the green bottles.

Ben was very much a lad’s lad. Into rugby, soccer, sports, and pubs. Enjoying nights with the boys. It never struck you he liked drinking something a bit…feminine.

“It’s a tradition. My family drinks champagne on Christmas morning. And I’d…I’d like to drink with you on Christmas morning with you, Y/N,” he offered. You noticed his green eyes darted to the floor in a fit of bashfulness.

“I’d love that!” you assured.

“I mean…since it’s Christmas on our own…might as well make the most of it…” he reasoned with a shrug.

Once you both got home, you promptly began stuffing the groceries into the fridge. Nothing fancy. Just what you could grab and what ingredients you could see to make any special dishes. It was a holiday after all.

Let him know I can cook, I’m a good girlfriend. I’m a cool girlfriend. And a cool girlfriend cooks for her man…

Ben then grabbed you and began to kiss you passionately. Your hands ran up to his hair. His own went down to your butt.

“Jonesy!”

“We’re alone without the folks…” he teased. “We can do whatever you want…and I couldn’t leave you in that sweater all day…”

“Wait a minute….” You suggested, glancing over.

He stopped. His breathing desperate as his nostrils huffed.

“We have the entire place to ourselves…let’s use every inch of it…”

Walking over to the fireplace, you flipped open the switch. There was the sound of a fwoooom and a crackling noise. Looking over the fireplace was lit up in an orange blossom over the “wood.”

Ben grabbed a few blankets for the cold and tossed them to the ground. Soon, you both were making out passionately. Feeling the deep heat on one side, he stared at you to ask. You gave a clear nod and voiced out a breathy, “yes.”

His hands got inside your sweater and pulled it off of you in a heartbeat. You had changed into your prettiest, fanciest bra and underwear in case this would happen. And Ben approved. But they didn’t stay on you for long. He then laid you down, before removing his own clothes. You watched the orange glow of his skin. How beautiful and intimate to see his body reflected in this way and how the firelight reflected off of your own as well before desperately peeling off the last of what you wore and throwing in over the couch.

You let your anxieties soothe as you focused on the pure bliss of union and togetherness with only the fire to witness it

 Little did you know that Christmas on your own meant spending time together. You were used to having Ben sleep by you. You were used to him hugging on your from behind as you stirred up some soup for lunch. Yet you both had plenty of time alone. Here in a cabin as snow blanketed to your thighs, there was precious few alone times you could get.

But what you were slow to realize that this was a bit more complicated when it came to presents. And his wasn’t ready yet.

“Ey-Y/N, where is…“

You let out half a scream and half a yelp of “no!” Ben’s golden head ducked back to behind the door as he let out a curse. You charged for the door.

“Hey, no peeking!” you insisted, before shutting the door.

“Oh! Sorry! My-my phone. Y/N! I just need it for a sec!” he begged.

“You honestly forgot it!” you replied in disbelief. You grabbed a blanket from the bed and draped it over the bed.

“Yeah it’s…it’s the band…gotta check the band! Joe’s been chatting all morning!” he insisted.

Looking over you saw that his phone was on the desk next to your messy bed with pajamas and shower towels strewn all over it. Walking over a few shoes on the carpet, you reached over and got it and handed it back.

“Just knock next time, okay sweetheart?” you ask.

“If it means you call me sweetheart again, I just might!” Ben added with another wink that made your face heat up.

Turning around with a sigh, you removed the clumsily tossed blanket. There was a long line of yarn you had been working on for a while. Knitting and knitting, albeit with joy, every change you got. Even when your fingers became sore and a little calloused. You prayed you could get it done in time. Turning the television on, you flipped to the opening of White Christmas and clicked away on your needles in a fury. It was good to have noise and maybe minor visuals. As the Haynes sisters twirled their mammoth fans in their blue dresses, you peeked at the red pile on your lap. You hoped it was a good enough present for your Adonis of a boyfriend.

Would he like it? Maybe he would like a bottle of an alcoholic drink. A watch. Something sophisticated and masculine.

But now it was too late. With a little huff you clicked away. Taking out your pink measuring tape you saw it was now the right length. Now it was time to darn off and add another prayer on top of that.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Christmas morning you wake up because of the thin white line of daylight creeping across your room in a thin line. Everything else is darkness. Ben and you had cuddled all night and you woke up tangled up in his arms. Clothes were half strewn from the more intimate activities you had the other night. Smiling at the memory, you watch him slowly until he shows signs of waking. Rather than spend morning in an excited, sleep deprived haze, both of you grin and wake up with the feeling of being well-rested, yet still slow and relaxed.

You brush his hair out of his eyes.

“Merry Christmas, lovie….” He yawns.

“Merry Christmas to you too Ben…” you coo back, enjoying how warm he always feels.

Both of you stay in bed under blankets for a bit. When you shift to look out the window, you see fluffy snow gently falling down.

“I can’t wait….to…”

“To what….” You ask. Open gifts?

“I…I think we could both drink some champagne…”

“Oh my gosh- you found it! On Vinyl?” you ask, holding wide LP in your arms.

In the background, your music shuffle changed to a tinkling rendition of The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy.

“I know I…I searched everywhere, but I found it!” Ben boasted. He swirled his champagne in his tiny glass, taking careful sips.

“But Y/N, you’ve opened my present…and there’s only one left …” he said, eyeing the red box with a plump, shiny ribbon on top.

“Ben, here it’s for you…”  Nervously gulping down your champagne in one go, you force your eyes to watch.

He looks at the package with a lightness in the corner of his smile. He is still in his light blue robe. With his tousled hair and puffy lips, he could never seem so soft and perfect to you. It might be the last image before he leaves you for some Victoria’s Secret model, you muse.

You feel yourself wince as he starts to rip open the paper. He then opens the box, eyes amazed at the red pile of yarn before him.

“Oh-Y/N! This is…this is amazing!”

The pulse inside you raced and you breathed a little deeper.

“Oh- It’s warm! Where’d you get it, Y/N…I may have to shop there…” he said, as he tried it around his own neck. The smile on his face was genuine.

“I…I made it, Ben…” you voiced out.

“What? How? You make things?!”

“I knit, Ben…” you confessed.

“Oh! You knit!”

“Yes…yes I do…”

There was a pause. He wove his large fingers across the stitches.

“Y/N, that’s amazing!” he said happily.

“Wha-really!” you replied, blinking.

“Yeah!”

He took your hands in his and hugged you tight.

“You don’t think…you don’t think I’m too…too nerdy…old-school, you mean?” you ask, still blinking in your surprise.

“No! Not at all my darling!” he said, giving you a big smooch.

When you video called your parents and his to wish a Merry Christmas, he forgot to take off the scarf. He wore that scarf on your wintry, Christmas walk. Even when you settled down to eat dinner it still lingered around his neck, draping down. It grazed candy wrappers as you both had your fill of sweets, and even when you watched every special on television together.

The credits of Elf rolled by as the clock struck ten at night. Ben looked down at you as you laid your head on his chest.

“So, Y/N…is there anything you’d like to do…it’s Christmas night…and then we got that whole week before new years and the family coming over…that’s a whole week. And they’ll be ‘ere in what, four days?!”

Biting a part of your lip, you stared at the fireplace and began mumbling.

“Yes…I’d really like to…oh gah, I don’t know…”

“What?”

“Ben, can I be honest with you. Really honest? You already know about the knitting…”

“What is it?” he asked, stroking the top of your head.

“Let me show you…”

Reluctantly getting up, you ran upstairs and then returned with your Dungeon Guide.

“Have you ever played Dungeons and Dragons…it’s my…my other hobby…” you confessed.

“I haven’t!?” Ben replied.

“What do you think? Of me now?

“Nothin’ different.” He said with a shrug. He reached over to get a snowman sugar cookie on the platter before you and bit off the head.

“You don’t think I’m…I’m too…” you babbled, head whipping around as you tried to search for the word

“I’m not too much of a nerd for you?”

“Y/N, I play video games. Passionately. That’s perfectly nerdy! And why should that bother me!”

“Well we…we’ve been dating for three months and…I really wanted to impress you. Badly,” you shrugged.

“Well…I have to tell you… yu impressed me the minute I saw you.”

Grinning, you opened the book to try to explain as much as you could. To your surprise he knew a few basic things. It made making his character easier.

“We will need a few other people, but we can try it with just ourselves…” you offered. Maybe one of your own campaign friends would volunteer.

He leaned toward you with a playful smile.

“Internet isn’t bad here. I know of some nerdy blokes in need of something to do tomorrow night…”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 The next day, without shame you brought out your projects and knitted on them as Ben enjoyed his games. But every hour you wrote notes for tonight and developed Ben’s characters and helped them build their own. Anticipation fluttering in your chest for the next few hours to arrive as you listed names, races, and abilities.

 It was a lovely night. You saw the snow as it drifted down by the light. It still looked puffy and like it fell out of the great dark expanse on the sky to be illuminated and then pile on the ground.

Grinning, you cupped the two cups of fresh hot chocolate and watched it for a minute. Just to savor the moment. Listening right outside the door, you bit your togue to hold back your laughter before you joined the boys again and begin the session.

Now you were truly yourself with Ben. And that was the greatest gift of all.

Taking in a deep breath, you read from the guide over the faces on the laptop screen. Seeing them light up as well as they awoke in their area and began their fantasy journey decided by markers and dice.

Now you didn’t have to hide yourself from them either. And the cute blonde next to you seemed especially happy.

“You come across a monster resembling a dog….” you narrated.

“Can I roll to pet it?” a voice on the laptop screen asked.

“Joe, No!”

Taglist: @queenlover05​ @ewannmcgregor​ @rhapsodyrecs​ @gwiilymslee​ @cherry--coke​ @queenismyprimejive​ @itsametaphorgwil​ @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​ @isitstraightvodka​ @asphalt-cocktail​ @coincidence-ithinknots-blog​ @rogermeddow​ @chriisxvans​

[jadekitty777]

On Your Six, Chapter 1

Okay first of all, did we all coincide the Taiqrow Week with Father’s Day... accidentally? Because that’s secretly genius. 

Secondly, whoops we’re also meshing with Qrowin week - hope y’all are okay to share!

Finally, let’s get down to business. Hi y’all, hope you haven’t missed me too much. Hopefully I can make up for my silence with this absolute beast of a fanfic. This is going to be a single, interconnected story matching the prompts of the entire week. I hope those of you who choose to read it, will enjoy it!

Day 1: Tattoos for @taiqrowweek

Rating: T for this chapter, M for overrall

Words: 2.3k

Summary: Qrow was what most of society would call a small-town criminal. But to those oppressed, he hoped only to be a healer. In an effort to make a change in the world, he moves from kingdom to kingdom, searching for branded omegas in need. His goal? To turn the derogatory words the reformatories forced them to bear on their skin into works of art.

Then one day, his past catches up to him in the form of Taiyang, his former best friend, with a brand of his own stained onto his skin and a plea for help in his eyes. Qrow has no choice but to answer, even if it means he’d have to face his mistakes once and for all.

[An ABO-style universe in a modern-day style Remnant. No Grimm, because people are the real monsters in this one]

Ao3 Link: On Your Marks

~

The day Taiyang walked into his shop, before even a single word was spoken, he knew.

It wasn’t from any particular mannerism. Everyone’s body language was different. A chattering mouth. Averted eyes. A tapping foot. A drooped posture. In the short time Qrow had been doing this, he’d learned no single action could encapsulate the variety in which people expressed their shame.

Yet, not a single one could escape the stench. It was a foul thing. Sharp and smokey, like a tire fire on a junkyard, it lacquered over an omega’s scent so completely that it was near impossible to catch a whiff of the true smell that was originally there.

Even now, as Qrow inspected the damage upon his former friend’s bare back, mere inches away from the man’s scent glands, he couldn’t pick out a hint of the sunflowers and fresh soil that was Tai. Nothing left except the reek of burnt rubber and dishonor.

He didn’t call attention to it, just like he didn’t call attention to the shake in his friend’s shoulders as he placed a hand over the first mark. “This is extensive.”

“I know. But, I didn’t know who else to turn to.” Even as he turned his head to look at him, Tai hunched over a bit, and the brand seared across his shoulder blades stretched with the movement. “You’ll help me, right?”

Qrow’s eyes flitted between watery eyes and stained skin where the word SLUT, all in caps like some mockery of a grand declaration, taunted his every decision since their falling out and left the taste of bile on his tongue.

“Of course.” He promised.

~

It was widely thought that it was a farmer that first came up with branding back during the Early Modern period. Having been “inspired” by the tagging of the cattle which kept them in order, the alpha decided to do the same to omegas, ascertained the same outcome would follow. The practice was later adopted by prisons and other corrective facilities. Back then, it was merely a way of keeping track of those who had been in and out of the system by searing the skin with an iron that had the center’s insignia on it.

Advancements to the printing press and mail systems did away with that particular need, but while the jails abolished the practice, reformatories did not, releasing studies that claimed the procedure resulted in more ‘proper’ and ‘desired’ behaviors in omegas and were absolutely critical to full rehabilitation.  Despite newer evidence showing these original claims were likely falsified simply for convenience and often actually had a devastating effect on an omega’s psyche, the three-century long old policy had yet to be abolished from the system.

The most the outcries had done the past few decades was change the method on which the ‘brand’ was applied. Instead of an iron, it was done with a tattoo needle and instead of an insignia, it became a single word that was like a permanent reminder of what landed the omega in the facility to begin with. The stench was caused by the use of the chemically enhanced ink that made it impossible for laser technology to fully remove.

In short, if an omega wanted the mark gone, their only choice was to cut out their own skin. Most, like his mother, accidentally killed themselves trying.

Which led to where Qrow was today, trying to shake things up in the only way he knew how. So, he jumped off society’s grid, took up a needle and his drawing skills, and turned the marks into works of art. More importantly, he gave the omegas who came to his door a way to recover and take back their lives.

He just never thought Tai would be one of them.

Once he’d taken the pictures he needed and Tai’s shirt was back on, things were relaxed enough he could brew some tea. As he handed the other man his cup, Qrow finally asked, “So, how’d you find me?”

“Wasn’t that hard.” He replied, fingers wrapping around the porcelain. “The omegas back at the reformatory would whisper before bed. It didn’t take me long to figure out they were talking about you.”

Qrow froze, trying to hide his trepidation. “Oh? They say my name?”

Tai snorted. “Not your name, but a name.” His expression turned cheeky. “Don’t worry though. Only someone who knows Harbinger used to be your Relics & Wyverns character could put the pieces together.”

“Ah, can it!” He barked as a flush worked its way up his neck. Still, tension drained from him. While there were no laws that specifically stated what an omega was required to do with their mark after their rehabilitation was complete, if he was caught tampering with it for them, he knew the courts could claim he was willfully interfering with a person’s emotional stability. Might even get him on a few counts of practicing mental health care without a license too.

Still, he didn’t particularly want to be sent to the slammer, which was why he worked so hard to keep to the underground. Never told anyone his name. Moved often. Kept minimal contact with clients. Whatever it took to make sure only the people who needed to find him could.

“I’m glad that you’re doing alright for yourself.” Tai said, giving a cursory glance to the shoddy working space that doubled as his apartment. Beyond his tattoo kit, he rarely took much with him when he relocated. Sometimes he got lucky on the accommodations and the place would already be partially furnished, other times he had to make do with what he could afford from the nearest thrift store.

This place was one of those latter times. He had a mattress on the torn up box spring with a chipped nightstand beside it, a circular, rickey table with two chairs for the dining room, a fairly barren kitchen area, and a slightly beat-up leather recliner for the clients.

It wasn’t hard to see Tai was really reaching as he said, “Your place is… nice?”

It was Qrow’s turn to snort. “At least be honest and tell me I live in a shithole.”

“I was not going to – okay, yeah it is kind of a shithole. But, you’re eating okay and everything, right?”

What an omega. “Yes mom, I’m getting my three squares a day and I’m even brushing my teeth before bed.” He lent back, the plastic chair creaking underneath as he did so. “But you didn’t exactly come here to critique my living conditions. Think there’s a lot more important stuff to talk about, don’t you?”

Suddenly, the tea was much more interesting than his face. “Yeah. Right. Um, guess there’s a lot to catch you up on, huh? You don’t even know about-”

“Whoa, hold up a sec.” He quickly interrupted. “Let’s get one thing straight: I don’t ask for any of my clients’ stories unless they feel like sharing. Some do, some don’t. But my help doesn’t come with any strings attached.” He met his gaze, stressing the next part carefully, “Even if they’re friends, okay?”

Tai still seemed to hesitate. “But, don’t you want to know about Yang?”

Of course, he did. He had about a thousand and one questions whirling through his head. But that didn’t matter right now. “You ready to talk about her?”

For the second time that day, tears shimmered in Tai’s eyes. He looked away quickly, saying nothing.

Yeah. He figured as much.

“Then no.” Qrow cleared his throat some. “Besides, I’m still a total disaster when it comes to handling people when they cry.”

That one, at least, earned him a weak chuckle.

“Some things never change?” Tai said with a sniff, rubbing the corner of his eyes with the heel of his hand.

“If it ain’t broke…” He shrugged. “Anyways, what I meant was, how do you want to change up that lil’ blemish a’yours?”

“I, uh, I don’t know. What do you normally do?”

“Turn it into a single design. But, I’ve never had to work on one so large before. That thing’s taking up about half of your back. Still doable, just… more difficult.” It was easy to busy his designs enough the word got lost under all the rest. Working on a scale of this size though, there weren’t many things he could think of that would both look nice and cover up the word. “Not to mention, we’ll have to take a lot of breaks, so your skin can heal.”

“How long do you think it would take?”

“Well, with three weeks between each session and the scale and details… probably nine to twelve months?”

Tai’s face fell. “Oh.”

“Something wrong?”

“Oh, no I mean…” He sighed. “I was just, kind of hoping it would be done before October, is all. Before the kids come home.”

Kids?!

As in plural?!

Qrow had to bite his tongue to physically stop himself from breaking his own rule. Took a deep, steadying breath.

Okay. That was six months away. There was no way. Unless…

“Well, we could make it four separate designs. One for each letter. That way I could work on one side and then the other while it’s healing. If we meet every week, should be doable. Gonna be some long hours under the needle for you though.”

Tai lit up just like the sun he was named after. “I can handle it. I’ll do anything. Oh-! We could even make it four dragons, couldn’t we?”

Qrow barked out a laugh. “I mean yeah, if that’s what you want. Give me your scroll deets. I’ll work up some designs over the next few days and send them to you.” As he pulled out his device to input the information, he added, “We gotta work out a schedule too. What days are RO?”

“She visits on Tuesdays and Saturdays right now. It’ll go down to once a week pretty soon. I’m also TA-ing at Sanctum Middle, so weekdays are pretty full.”

It was all par for the course. Even after doing time at the reformatory, omegas still had to have frequent visits from their rehabilitation officer, to make sure they were keeping a steady job and homelife. That meant good evaluations from his superiors and a living space that looked like not even a speck of dust had had a chance to touch down. This was especially important for omegas like Tai, who would have to fight for every top mark he got. If he failed to, the RO would claim he was still unfit to raise his own children and keep them in the fostering system.

Qrow knew that was the reason for the six-month time limit. He had no doubt that once Tai was out of parole and had his pups back, he’d be hightailing it out of the kingdom. But for the RO to still be visiting at that frequency… “Did you come looking for me right after you got out?”

“I-” The tea had become interesting again. And cold. “Yeah. I knew you were working out of Mistral, and Atlas allows for transfers to Argus.”

At this rate, his tongue was probably going to have indents from his incisors. Once he knew he wasn’t going to start prying or, worse yet, shouting at Tai - because really how stupid could he be?! – he opened his mouth and said, “So, Sundays then?”

For the first time in nearly six years, Tai smiled at him. “Sounds perfect.”

~

For the next few days, Qrow did nothing but draw. Whether it was with a buzzing needle or a pencil, his hand was rarely empty. Even as he downed his morning coffee or spun his suppertime noodles onto his fork, his other hand was moving over a sheet of paper, his muse on overdrive as he tried to pick out the perfect designs for each letter. By nightfall, he was sending at least half a dozen pages full of sketches to Tai, then checking his phone every five minutes as he impatiently anticipated his reply.

It didn’t actually matter where they started, because once they decided on which letter was going first, Qrow’s focus would narrow to the second one over. The tricky thing was, Tai had always been the type who was simple to please – well before a reformatory could ever drill that lesson into him. Even when they were young, whether it was a question of what game they wanted to play or what food they wanted to eat, Tai would almost always just grin and say ‘whatever you want’. Which meant, every sketch was perfect and Qrow had to work twice as hard to actually find something he truly fell in love with.

He knew he finally struck gold for S when Tai figured out how to use the circling tool on his scroll and sent the shot back with an exuberantly loud ‘THIS ONE’, followed by a horrendous amount of exclamation points.

Qrow had never felt prouder.

It was a small effort to resketch the piece in full and line it. Adding color was more challenging, as he had to balance what looked nice with the limitations of his inks. But leaving it without was absolutely not an option. Not for someone who used to decorate his walls with paintings of tropical beaches and autumn-locked forests and had had a Crayola box spectrum of begonias sitting on his windowsill in his childhood room. Tai was a man who radiated a rainbow both in his life and in his heart. To try to dull that by leaving him in nothing but blacks and grays was a crime Qrow wasn’t willing to commit.

Besides, the design wouldn’t translate well without it.

So, he kept working at it until he knew it was just right. When the omega’s excitement only seemed to grow, he knew his labor was over.

[bangchanstudio]

my roommate is a ghost | han jisung (ch. 1)

pairing: han jisung x reader (fem)

genre: fluff, college;au, parallel universe??

tw: mild nudity, mild talk of death, ghosts, cursing

word count: 1,355

writer’s note: okay so i haven’t written a fic in the longest time so sorry if it’s not that great. i was bored and felt inspired to write, might make a little series out of this, but i’m not sure yet lol let me know if you like it~ ps. sorry it’s so short T.T

plot: you had a bad habit of seeing ghosts. sometimes they were scary, sometimes they were rude, but hardly were they ever cute. one day as you were getting ready for class you walked in on your roommate showering... except you didn’t have a roommate. (inspired by Freaking Romance webtoon by Snailords)

[6:27am]

“wh-who are you?! get out!!” you shrieked, throwing whatever you could at the naked boy in your shower, though it was so humid you couldn’t really see his body, not that you wanted to. This was not what you had signed up for when you decided to move away for college and into a dorm hall. Not the loud parties or constant smell of weed in the corridor, not the times you’ve had your ass smacked by random strangers and definitely not finding a random guy in your shower at 6am.

“Hey what the hell, this is my room!” the boy retorted taking his toothbrush out of his mouth and dogging the hand soap you threw at him. “Just give me a sec--”

“how did you even get in here?! my door is locked!!” but was it? you did have a habit of being forgetful... that wasn’t important right now, what was important was getting this guy out before he made you late to your lecture. He grabbed a towel that was on the shower curtain rod before stepping out, the cloud that once hid him was gone now with the open door and you looked away trying to hide the stupid pink that rose on your checks. “get dressed”

you sat on your bed cross legged, nibbling your bottom lip impatiently and staring intently at the closed bathroom door. was he just another ghost? you thought. It had been at least a year since you last saw one. Ever since you were a small child you would see them. From the old man by the big oak tree at the park by your preschool, to the woman crying for her lost child on the corner of Mason Street and Wells Ave. Sometimes you would wake up to tens of ghosts crowded in your bedroom at 3am who wouldn’t disappear until you shrieked them away or came into physical contact with them. If your skin touched theirs they would just “poof”. That’s what made them a little less scary.

glancing at your clock it had been over 5 minutes but the guy still hadn’t come out of the bathroom. you jumped out of bed and pounded on the bathroom door, “does it really take you that long to put some clothes on?”

you waited for a response but all you could hear was the dripping of the faucet. “I’m coming in!” you warned before pushing the bathroom door open only to reveal... an empty bathroom. you stood there puzzled for a second as the door hit the wall. he was gone. as if he had never been there, the shower was dry as if it hadn’t been turned on, there was no fog on the mirror. had you just imagined it? maybe he was just a ghost, it wouldn’t be the first time after all.

[9:43pm]

finally, home sweet home. or dorm sweet dorm? it was a long day and you’d never felt happier to lay on your hard futon couch face down ready to d-word from the long day of lectures and group projects. how was it possible for professors to assign so much work on the first week of classes? you heard your phone buzz as a new notification popped up on the screen

-1 New Message from Aelin- Aelin: party at bryan’s later. wanna come?

you groaned into your decorative pillow before dragging yourself into a sitting position resting your head on your knee staring at the message trying to come up with an excuse not to go. for a 19 year old you weren’t great at doing normal 19 year old things. one such thing being parties or big crowds. plus it’s not like you had anything nice or slutty to wear to a frat party. but then again Aelin wasn’t the best drunk, and that was enough to convince your introverted soul into agreeing to go, although you regretted it the second you sent the message.

New Message Aelin: GREAT, I’ll come down in 20!

you got up quickly browsing through your limited closet before settled on a black slip dress Aelin let you borrow over summer and a leather jacket tossing them on your bed before stripping on your way to the shower to get at least a little cleaned up. turning on the hot water and letting it run down your hair reminded you of that morning with that hot ghost guy. the thought made you a little sad. if he was a ghost that means he had to have died and nothing was sadder than seeing young ghosts knowing they had their whole lives ahead of them. after a quick scrub down you hop out of the shower and wrapped a clean towel around yourself and using another to scrunch dry your hair. there wouldn’t be time for you to style it so you settled with slapping on some product to help the curls air dry nicely.

you annoyingly slap on some make up, quick foundation + concealer, some liquid blush and red lip tint. you didn’t need any mascara since your eyelash extensions were still pretty new and full. Aelin had the worst habit of inviting you out last minute. checking the clock on the counter you only had 5 minutes before aelin would come down, late as her libra ass may be she was always punctual when it came to a good time.

the cold air of the dorm room greeted you as you left the warm cloud of the bathroom behind. your hair was still a little damp so you took the towel off your body to dry it a bit more, thanking the gods you were able to get a dorm room to yourself giving you the freedom to wander around the small space nude all you wanted.

“oh shit-” that voice. you whirled around to see the ghost from earlier coming out of the bathroom you were just in. he held his hands up to cover his eyes.

“not again!” you groaned throwing your phone at him and wrapping the towel around tightly around yourself. “what are you doing here again! no one said this room was haunted! they’re suppose to disclose that shit!”

He rubbed his arm were the phone hit, “what do you mean haunted?! I’m not a ghost, you are!!”

you crossed the small distance to him. if you make skin to skin contact he will disappear, just make him disappear like the other ghosts. he backed into the wall at your sudden and determined advancement.

“go away!” you shouted as you slapped him, your hand making contacted with his cheek his eyes widening.

but he didn’t. he didn’t disappear.

you both stared at each other in shock.

a knock at the door made you both snap out of your daze.

you gathered yourself pushing the ghost-not-ghost-guy into the corner enough for you to open your bedroom door.

“aelin!!” you greeted nervously, your friend looking as good as ever with her gold dress, dark smokey eyes and pin straight blonde hair. she looked you up from head to toe, eyes squinting in suspicion.

“am i interrupting something?” she asked. crap, you forgot you were still in a towel.

“actually,” you cleared your throat, “I’m not feeling too well, sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I thought a shower would make me feel better but i feel worse so just go on without me. just text me if you need a ride or something,”

aelin lingered a bit trying to feel out what you were trying to hide, but resorted to taking your word for it, “okay no worries! i’m sure i’ll be fine, Hana is going too so don’t worry about my drunk ass!”

she laughed giving you a wink before skipping down the hallway to Hana’s room calling over her shoulder, “work on your lies! you still suck!”

rolling your eyes you shut the door and ended up face to face with the hot ghost again who was still rubbing his cheek.

“my name is han jisung, so stop calling me ghost.”

this was going to be a long night.