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alixmarauders · 1 month

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Why try? | poly! marauders x fem! reader

angst / fluff

CW: brief mention of bully, negative self talk, some cursing (?) I think that’s all :)

word count: 1.4k

note: it’s my first mini series and English is not my first language, just wanted to say so in case you spot any error :)

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4 coming soon

“Why are they dating me?”

That’s the question that kept flashing in your head 24/7 for the past week.

It all started when you were sitting with your group of friends in the Ravenclaw common room. You had just returned from your secret date with the marauders; even though they wanted to love you in public, you didn’t. It was silly, really, but you didn’t want all of the backlash that it would inevitably come from dating them.

You knew, deep down, that if you were to love them in the open, everyone would be confused as to why they chose you. They were the marauders, for god’s sake, even you had doubts about this… thing that you had been going on, god only knows what everyone else would be thinking.

So you invented an excuse. You told them that your brother was protective over you, that you didn’t want to cause them trouble. You could have been spending more time thinking about a better story: your brother couldn’t care less about your wellbeing, let alone who you dated. It didn’t matter what he really thought, though, because they believed the lie.

It hurt to have to lie to the boys that you were growing fond of, but still, years and years of bullying made you this way. You never really viewed yourself as someone worthy of affection, let alone of love. You never really liked your physique, you hated your nose, you wished you had something special about your physical appearance but you couldn’t find it.

Even your personality didn’t seem worthy of being known, or at least you thought so. You were an A-student, but only because you studied hard. You had a lot of hobbies, sure, but you weren’t exactly good at them. All of this to say, you didn’t deem yourself worthy of their attention.

Now you were sitting with your friends, chatting, and of course, of fucking course, they had to start talking about james.

“I really don’t get how he can be so oblivious about my flirting”

This caught your attention. The girl talking wasn’t exactly your friend, however she shared her room with Emmeline, one of your best friends, so she started hanging out with you. Still, you didn’t know about this flirting until now. You chose to listen quietly.

“… I mean, I even went to his game wearing his damn number on my back. What do I have to do in order to get his attention?”

“I don’t know Aurora… Rumor has it they are all dating some new girl, though nobody knows who she is! They saw them hanging around near Hogsmade, but nobody saw her face. I really thought they didn’t want to include anybody in their relationship”

“Another girl?” Both you and Aurora exclaimed at the same time. This. This was a rather embarrassing situation.

“What Y/N? Decided to join the conversation?”

“Yeah, didn’t take you as a marauder fan?”

This is why you should learn to keep your mouth closed.

“What? Am I not allowed to be curious?”

“Yeah, not like they’ll ever consider you.” Em stared at Aurora blankly, you were sure your face was showing every little thought that was slowly, but surely, starting to crawl over your consciousness, making you doubt yourself.

“What? Don’t look at me like I’m the evil guy. It’s nothing personal, Y/N, but you are just a normal girl, they seem like the type to enjoy someone more… special?”

And that’s when the doubting started.

“Yeah… I think I’ll go study now”

You excused yourself, while you clearly heard Em starting to get angry at Aurora, but you just couldn’t take this.

It was one thing to doubt yourself, but if even your friends thought the same of you, maybe you were right, maybe you should just stop bothering them.

You ran to the library, to the farthest corner. Staring at the rain pouring outside your window, you started to do the one thing you were really good at: self loathing.

A hand made you jump.

“Hey there dovey, didn’t mean to scare my girl”

Remus was looking at you with that loopsided grin of his that made your stomach flip. He called you ‘his girl’, even though you weren’t official, your heart swelled.

“Hey Rem” You tried to smile, you really did, but for some reason your facial muscles couldn’t bring themselves to work. His face immediately fell.

“What is going on?”

You could have just told him.

Maybe you should have.

But you really weren’t one to just talk about problems, you preferred to just pretend.

“Nothing! Nothing I- I just-“ You stopped for a moment. Great job, Y/N, you were doing such a great job! You took a deep breath. “Nothing, I’m just a bit stressed about herbology? You know I’m not the best at it”

He seemed to believe you. “Well, we can study together then?”

Again, you should have said yes.

“I’m sorry I just- I mean, we hung out earlier? Aren’t you tired of me?”

He frowned. “No? Why would I be? Sirius and James are napping, I was actually looking for you? I feel like we hardly ever have some alone time together”

You wanted to cry, you wanted to talk about every little doubt crowding your mind. But you couldn’t, your tongue twisted.

“Oh…”

“But I mean, if you want some alone time I understand!

You simply nodded.

“See you around Remus”

“Okay then? See you around?”

He turned, stopping for a minute, likely pondering if he should just go away or stay to talk. He decided to leave.

You fell even further on the armchair, your mind flooded with doubts.

You sat at dinner, exhausted. You have been spending the whole afternoon running through the endless possibilities as to why they were willingly spending their time with you. Were they making fun of you? Were they just bored? None of your answers made you feel any better about yourself.

Now you were staring at your plate.

“Hey Y/N” Em looked quite concerned. “Are you alright?” You nodded, she frowned.

“If it’s Aurora who got you so sad, don’t worry, I kicked her ass”

You snorted at that. “No, don’t worry Em, everything’s alright. You know I get like that when the winter nears”

She nodded. It was exhilarating how everybody seemed to believe your lies.

Throughout the whole dinner, you sensed three pair of eyes burning through your back. You decided you couldn’t stay a minute longer under their scrutiny, pretending to eat, pretending to have fun. You simply stood up, exiting the Great Hall.

A hand grasped yours, making you jump.

“What’s up with you lot today? Trying to induce a heart attack?” James snickered, tugging your wrist and making you end up in his arms.

You noticed Sirius and Remus looking at you, the latter still sporting the frown he had in the library.

“Just wanting to check up on you. Moony here was quite worried about you, said you seemed sad. Is everything alright?” Sirius searched for your eyes, while you looked at your feet. “Did we make you uncomfortable in any way?”

“No, no it’s not that”

That’s it. You really were stupid.

Remus quirked a brow. “So you are sad about something.”

“Well, you know… the rain.”

James looked like he was about to laugh. “Well yes, it rains quite a lot in Scotland?”

“No, I mean I get quite moody when the weather starts to worsen” At that James hugged you.

“You poor thing, you should have told! Wanna come in our dorm and have a cuddle?”

A cuddle did sound nice, but then again the doubts started to flood your mind. They already had to spend time to someone as uninteresting as you, the least you could do was try to not be a burden.

“No, sorry I just want to take a shower and have some alone time, you know?”

They seemed worried. James looked like a lost puppy, not understanding why you were so suddenly trying to create space between you and them.

Sirius nodded. “Okay love, but if you change your mind you know where to find us, yeah?”

You wanted to cry. To actually sob into their shoulders and word vomit every single mean thing that you told yourself in the last six hours. Instead you just smiled, waved, and ran to your room.

And so began the worst week of your sixth year at Hogwarts.

#marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #slight angst #poly!marauders angst #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #ravenclaw reader #overthinking

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latenighttalking00 · 1 year

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A Work of Art

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem! Reader

Summary: You are a Marchioness from france and your mother is adamant that you wed. She is a very close friend of the Dowager Vicountess Bridgerton who has so generously agreed to be your sponsor for the season. Perhaps in doing this, she has unknowingly found her son's perfect match as well.

Warnings: slow-ish burn, friends to lovers, smut, 18+, minors dni, hair pulling, possessive/dirty talk, fingering, oral (f receiving). This is just porn with a plot.

Word Count: 2k

Author's Note: Hi! This is my first time writing, so apologies if it's a bit rough; English isn't my native language. Hopefully, you all absolutely drool over Benedict the same way I do. enjoy!

Once the social season had begun its approach, you and your family make haste on your return from france. Due to your newly given title, you are projected to be quite the diamond this season indeed.

As a close friend of the family, the Dowager Viscountess, Violet Bridgerton kindly offers to sponsor your debut this season, meaning that it is now of the utmost importance to arrive promptly at the Bridgerton home in London before the season is to begin.

As you sit in the drawing room, awaiting the next potential suitors you will inevitably send on their way, the clear and evident dread in your expression does not go unnoticed by your mother. A quick swat to your knee from her fan catches your attention, a visible look of warning on her face as your eyes meet hers.

"I do hope that attitude of yours is quick to dissipate." She sighs, "Men will find you quite inadequate to wed if you are to continue this ridiculous behavior. It is quite unladylike." Your mother's words cut right through you as if she had taken a hot paring knife to both of your ears. Not being able to withstand it any longer, you quickly stand from your seat and interrupt her.

"Mother, this gown and the line of men outside the door are quite suffocating enough; no need for your incessant nagging as well." You take a moment to pause, regaining your composure.

"I believe I am feeling quite faint; perhaps I've seen enough suitors today." You threaten rather than suggest, "I will return to my chambers and perhaps get a bit of rest seeing as the sun has already began it’s departure from the sky."

You bow and quickly excuse yourself before making haste out the door, walking as fast as your feet can take you, right past the men who are practically begging for just a minute of your attention.

You race directly to your bedroom, entering quickly and not even fully shutting the door before you are pulling down the zipper of your gown and letting it fall to the floor. "This retched thing must come off immediately," you mumble to yourself as you pull at the laces of your corset, loosening them just enough to slide off your body. A sigh of relief leaves your lips as you slip off your stays and slip on a beautiful white nightgown you purchased from one of the most talented modiste in france.

Shortly after the maids come to collect your gown, you are quick to wander down the halls in search of a cure to your relentless boredom. you find what appears to be an art studio and you are instantly overjoyed. you quietly sneak in through the door left ajar.

Art was your pride and joy; your sketches and the ability to produce beautiful works on canvas were the only things keeping you from becoming a mad woman.

Unbeknownst to you, Violet's second-eldest son and the owner of said art studio had just returned home from the gentleman's club. As he makes his way down the hall, prepared to return to his studio and peacefully finish up some things he started the night prior, he is met with complete and udder surprise at the sight of a woman flipping through his sketchbooks.

He feels as if the air has been knocked right from his lungs. Never once has a woman looked so real, raw, and simply ethereal to him in nothing but a simple yet elegant night gown, the pages in between your delicate fingers, the way in which you sit, your effortless and beautiful features, and the way they change and turn to show your focus, the true and utter intrigue at the charcoal etched on the paper is more than enough to bring a man directly to his knees.

He watches as you adjust your position, your nightgown sliding up your thighs as you cross a leg over the other. He feels as if he might faint.

“those are from my time traveling.” he points, making his way in to the room.

So lost in thought, you are quickly brought back by the sound of the deep and sultry voice coming from the hallway, it sends chills down your body, you are unable to fight the butterflies in your stomach and are completely unprepared for what you’re eyes are met with the second they dare to leave the pages in front of you. He is perhaps one of the most beautiful men you have ever seen, the way his features darken in the dim candle light could cause scandal merely on its own.

As he makes his way over to you, you scramble to find any sort of words to not appear as a complete and udder fool. “désolée, my Lord. All this beautiful artwork caught my eye and i could not help myself.” your voice only making his new found attraction grow even stronger.

“Benedict Bridgerton..” he says just loud enough for you to hear. He is quick to take your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“Miss y/n y/l/n” you respond, a blush creeps over your cheeks as your eyes meet his. Your name and accent are both very quick explanations as to why a very random beautiful woman was wondering in

his family home.

“Ah yes, the Marchioness from France. My mother has done quite a bit of boasting upon your arrival, i can now see why she was so keen on you being the diamond of this social season” he chuckled lightly “merci, Lord Bridgerton.” you offer him a warm smile as you place the sketch book in his hands.

Your hand grazes his and you feel as if your body is set aflame. You quickly fumble to stand, attempting to leave before any further scandal is to happen. he is quick to catch you by the arm, his light grasp more than enough to keep you in place.

“Please, stay as long as you’d like.” He offers, taking a step towards you, but you are quick to shake your head, knowing staying any longer may very well affect your title and rank during this very precious season.

“You are more than kind.” you place a hand over his and squeeze lightly. He leans even closer, your face mere inches from his. his scent fills your nose and you cannot control the heat that consumes your body, the sheer need you have for him in this very moment. “I must- i uh-..” he raises an eyebrow at your words. though his proximity fogs your brain, you attempt to compose yourself. “Perhaps i can show you some of my art in the duration of my stay here.“ he smirks, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip as he nods “if what you create is half as beautiful as you, my art will never hold a candle to yours.” he compliments.

Your breathe catches in your throat as his words. “..Benedict- Apologies, Lord Bridgerton..” you quickly correct yourself, the use of his first name not going unnoticed by him. “I’m sure both your and my Mother will have quite the earful if i am found in here, i must go.” Before he is even able to protest, you are gone.

As the days pass, You begin to consume his every waking thought, the sound of your voice, the feeling of your skin on his is burned in to his memory and he cannot shake his want for you.

Anthony is quick to notice his admiration, the wandering stares and close proximity immediately become apparent in Anthony’s eyes. As the family settles in the drawing room, Anthony is quick to pull His younger brother aside “You’ve grown quite close with Marchioness” Anthony offers his younger brother a warning glance and Benedict simply smirks in return “Brother, are you suggesting that i’ve compromised Miss y/l/n?” he laughs. Anthony in no way finds this amusing “See to it that your intentions are well thought out and you are thinking with your brain rather than something else. She is a Marchioness, toying with oversea affairs may be more than risky, even for a Bridgerton.” Anthony notes, the clear and evident weariness in his voice wipes the smile right off Benedict’s face

“Brother, do remind me. Did you not ask for one Sharma’s hand in marriage and then proceed to marry the other? You need not inform me on scandal for i am more than well aware of what i am doing.” he place a hand on Anthony shoulder and squeezes light before walking away.

time skip

Benedict does everything in his power to gain every fraction of your attention when it is available. The two of you spending more time together than any of the men attempting to court you. This new grown fondness blossoms quickly and Benedict soon becomes one of your most trusted friends. Spending late nights in his art studio, promenades in the garden, pall mall with his family. You’ve never felt more at home than with your dear Benedict and his lovely family. This fondness grows very quickly to something much stronger. Knowing Benedict’s stance on courting and marriage in general, you shake the thought. Knowing your dear friend will never see you as anything but.

While enjoying another late night in his studio, you can’t help but feel different. You both are well aware your time together is coming to end. Suitors begin growing impatient and proposals begin rolling in faster than the tide.

“I quite like Lord Lumley, he is handsome and he finds interest in poetry.” Benedict is quick to laugh “Lord Lumley is a dimwit after nothing but your title.” you wince at his words “Clearly he’s much more of a gentleman than you.” You tease, crossing your arms over your chest. “Excuse me?” he asks, the change in his tone sending heat right between your thighs. He rises from his place on the stool and saunters over to you, his large frame towering over yours.

“Repeat what you said.” he orders

“Ben i was merely kidding i-“ you stutter, his proximity making your skin feel as if it were on fire.

“Do not make me ask you again.” he warns, a smirk on his face

You are a bit taken a back by his demeanor but the insatiable desire in your body fills you with a sudden surge of confidence. “Lord Lumley is more of a gentleman than you, Lord Bridgerton.”

Benedict lets out a low chuckle before leaning down, his mouth right by your ear.

“Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps Lord Lumley isn’t plagued by the same un-gentleman like thoughts that fill my head the moment you step into a room.” he sighs, his breath on your skin only making matters worse.

Your hands find his half buttoned shirt and you press your hands lightly to his chest “Benedict.” you warn.

he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes with his own. Your noses practically grazing as he speaks. “Tell me now that you do not desire me.” His hands rest on either side of your face “Simply speak the words and i will respectfully withdraw and allow you to be with whomever you like but first you must tell me you do not desire me and you wish for me to leave you alone.”

“Ben.” You mumble quitely. Every feeling or emotion that the second eldest Bridgerton has ever caused immediately rises to the surface. At a complete loss for words, you do what you feel is right in the very moment and you bring your lips to his.

The kiss quickly fills with passion, weeks of hidden adoration and care comes bubbling over the surface.

“Marry me.” he say breathlessly as he breaks from the kiss. “You have shown me what is it truly like to admire a woman. To look at her and feel inspiration. To delight in her beauty. So much so that all of her defenses crumble and that you would willingly take on any pain or burden for her. To honor her being with your deeds and words. You make me feel what only a true poet describes." his works nearly bring you to your knees as tears threaten to escape your eyes. “I would move the heavens down to earth for you if i knew it would make you smile.”

“Benedict.. Je vous aime.” you reassure him “I love you mon chéri, more than the moon loves the night sky. You are my everything, my best-friend. I would give anything to be your wife.” He pulls you back in for another kiss which very quickly becomes heated.

He trails hot kisses all over your jaw, neck and bosom. “My beautiful Fiancée.” he mumbles, his wandering hands sliding their way up your thighs, threatening to breach the hem of your nightgown. You are immediately reminded of your current location and you push the dark haired boy back “Ben.. not here” you breathe out, The second Bridgerton son just smirks before kneeling down in front of you.

Unsure of what he’s planning, you remain silent, eyes trained on his as he begins trailing kisses up from your ankle to your inner thigh. His hands trail up the back of your legs, giving your ass a playful squeeze as he reaches it, causing a gasp to escape from your lips.

The mere sight of him like this sends heat directly between your thighs, all logical thinking thrown out the window as he begins to tug your panties down your thighs. A blush creeps over your cheeks and your hands find his hair, tugging lightly. Benedict continues with no hesitation, pressing light kisses all over your inner thighs, leading right up to your aching core. You’re unable to fight back the sounds that leave your lips as you feel his tongue pressed against your clit. “Christ Benedict… you’re going to be the death of me.”

He wastes no time, lapping, kissing and sucking at your soaked heat as strong hands grip on to your thighs, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. You lean against his desk to keep yourself upright while quiet moans and whimpers escape your lips, your hands pulling and tugging at his messy black hair, only encouraging him more. He pulls back only for a moment to look up at you “You taste fucking divine, my beautiful work of art.”

He is quick to return to your soaked heat. As his tongue works relentlessly on your clit, he slowly pushes two fingers inside of you, giving you a moment to adjust before slowly thrusting them in and out. Shortly after, you feel an unfamiliar knot form in the pit of your stomach and Benedict is aware immediately due to your incoherent mumbles and the way you clench around his fingers. “That’s my girl..” he says breathlessly “just like that..” After hearing his words, you completely unravel, shaky moans escape your lips as one hand grips on to the table and the other with a tight hold on your Fiancées hair.

Once your body has relaxed, he gently pulls your panties back up before standing to face you. You watch as he brings his fingers to your mouth “Open.” he commands and you immediately oblige, opening your mouth as he slides his fingers past your lips. The unfamiliar taste and the sheer sight in front of you causes a blush to fall over your face. He removes his fingers with a groan and offers your a smirk “You, my dear Fiancée are going to be the death of Me.”

A/N: Hi guys! I really hope every likes this :) if you have any request, feel free to send them to me :)

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x fem! reader #benedict #bridgerton #smut #anthony bridgerton #benedict smut #benedict bridgerton smut

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thegirlwhowrites642 · 6 months

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Could you recommend us some of your favorite hinny fics? Love your work btw!

Thank you <3

I would tell you to look at my bookmarks on Ao3 but I'll give you some highlights (I'll keep wips out of this because I never know how to feel about recommending unfinished work):

Gone was any trace of you -- I'm pretty sure I've read this something like a billion times, I can quote it word by word

Come stay for the summer -- this is always such a light fun work to re-read, I'm a big fan of muggle hinny, I really have a soft spot for it

Altered -- the obsession I have for this one-shot, this to me is hinny in its purest form

A Weasley reunion -- some hardcore pining from Harry, and fake dating, what do you want more from life?

Time -- Harry realising he wants children, with Ginny. The specific way in which the realisation is written is something I adore

Summer rain -- this is great, what else there is to say really, it's just great

Sacred new beginnings -- I love how this somehow manages to be a retelling of sixth year despite being a muggle AU with young adults hinny

Orchards -- the author definitely has a higher opinion of the "golden trio" than I have but the way she writes dialogues between Harry and Ginny is perfect, she also does a thing I love which is to make Ginny actually funny. It's one of her main personality traits and yet it's forgotten so often, I think it happens due to some sort of unconscious bias about women not being funny (not native English speakers writers are forgiven though because being funny in a foreign language can be quite hard)

After the leaves have fallen -- this talks about what I call Harry and Ginny's never-ending argument and it's written so beautifully

Everything I am is yours -- I just noticed that on ao3 it's signed as the first chapter of two but it definitely can stand on its own and is a very well done muggle retelling of Harry and Ginny's story

take what I took and give it back to you -- a beautifully written soulmates marks au that doesn't really change Harry and Ginny's story but, as one of the comments says, seems to bring up an existing implied element of the canon one

Already here -- because Hannah's stories that I love the most (they are all great though) are wips, I'll put this one in the hopes that one day she'll decide to turn it into a multi-chapter story (@takearisk-ao3 think about it 👀)

The brilliant dance -- this is so fucking funny and entertaining while also being heartwarming. Fucked up but inevitable/obsessed with each other hinny spending their early 20s being a hot mess is my AU drug

Someone else's life -- finished reading this a few days ago, a very well developed brilliant idea

[I already know the second I post this I'll realise I've forgotten some brilliant work]

#hinny #harry potter #ginny weasley #harry x ginny

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greyfics · 5 months

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even if it's handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you.

- °•. ✦ .•° -

pairing: the ghoul (cooper howard) x reader fic type: enemies to lovers, no smut, mild spice + eventual fluff slow burn meter: ◈◈◇◇◇ word count: 3.8K inspo: TPD lyric prompt list, reblogged on main reader type: assumed wastelander background, gender neutral, 'I don't need a knight to save me', assumed negative views of BoS, assumed gun for hire cw: strong language, violence, reference to fictional drugs, mild dismemberment summary: reader is a gun for hire who has gotten themselves into a bit of trouble in the form of a moderate bounty with a local segment of the brotherhood- and cooper howard knows he can get all the drugs he needs for what seems like an easy job.

- °•. ✦ .•° -

"We can do this all day, darlin'. Even if it's handcuffed, I'm leavin' here with you." you feel the pressure of a pistol barrel pressing against the base of your skull from behind, and a disgruntled, defeated sigh slips through your lips. The game is up- you're out of ammo, down to the ripper hanging from your side, and 'gun against the brain-cage' is the indisputable checkmate.

Up to this point, you'd been pretty successful in shaking off the swathes of bounty hunters and jet-scrounging raiders that'd been on your tale since you became an enemy to the brotherhood- which, nowadays, seemed to be a pretty fucking easy feat to accomplish. The rusty knights were getting a little big for their oversized, several-tonne boots- and you had never been a fan of self-asserting authorities using their power in the name of 'order', especially not when they could hardly organise their own little sectors across the expansive, sparse remains of the USA.

As good with a revolver as you are, today it seems your luck has ran out and your karma has caught up with you, because you've finally met your match in a ghoul with a face so smug you wish you at least had a chance to slap it before losing the game of cat and mouse you'd been playing for a couple days now across Junktown. Your face collides into concrete and a quick click combines with the feel of steel against your wrists, The Ghoul's threat having evolved into a promise.

You spit a ball of blood and saliva from your mouth, wrought up by the hard impact with the ground below, "Alright, you win this round you freak- I'll come with you, just get these off of me." You hear a smirk from above, "Now how stupid do you fuckin' think I am? No, I gave you a chance to come willingly, you chose to shoot me in the leg. Lucky I ain't returned the favour." He gives you a light, sharp kick in the side with the tip of his boot, "Up. We got a long way to travel, and sooner we get there, sooner I get paid. I'll be reminding you now that I only get a bonus for bringing you alive, so make my life hell and I'll live without the extra caps." "Not exactly easy when my-" you hear the chick of a safety being cocked, and awkwardly shuffle back until you can jut sharply up onto your knees and slowly stand, turning to glare daggers into your now captor. The Ghoul's expression remains stiffly affixed with the wry, smug facade he bears: relaxed, squinting eyes peeking out above a thin, ever-upturned lip- you swear to yourself to you'll smack that smile off his face- but by all accounts, beneath the withered, decaying skin that had festered in his ghoulish transformation, the man had the stature (and admittedly, the jawline) of a filmstar.

You shake off the irritable possibility of monster like this getting lucky with the gene pool as a calloused hand secures a vice grip on one of your wrists and tugs you in suit as it's owner sets into motion, dragging you away from the remnants of an old civilisation and towards a military base miles away you are all too acquainted with.

You had been so caught up in the wild ride of adrenaline that came with being on the lamb that you briefly detached yourself from the catalyst of the chase- but as concrete and clay inevitably crumbles away to distant sandy dunes and cacti, the dread stirs in your stomach like a plague. It was easier to wave off the consequences of your actions when you weren't being marched towards the gallows to face them- it wasn't like you made an attack on the organisation. You kill one knight trashing up a town in the name of redundant technology, and suddenly you're on a hit-list. You know The Ghoul probably doesn't know this, and you know for certain that even if you tried to give the man a sob story he wouldn't care. This was it. "You about to be sick?" You snap from your pessimistic daze at the sudden interruption of silence, "No. Why?" "You look like you just ate a mouldy iguana, that's why- and I don't want sick on my boots." You let out an irked groan, and sharply snap your head to face the horizon in the opposite direction to your captor. You hope this will satiate his sour jabs for the time being-

Your hope is crushed five minutes later.

"Go on then. I'm bored shitless and I'm outta jet, so spill." He says with an almost theatrical exasperation in his voice, "Spill what, exactly?" you coldly respond in a mute tone, focus still fixed on the horizon to the west, "Well what's the big story? Someone's always gotta be the victim when they got a bounty on their head, so what's the tragic tale behind 'Y/N', huh?" the muscles in your neck and shoulders tense up at the mention of your name- you weren't exactly a known associate or long-time rival to the brotherhood, and the wanted poster you had wrestled from the stiff fingertips of a raider last week only had a sketch and a scrawled account of the incident. You falter for a moment before replying, but ardently avoid taking the bait, "If your plan is to get me to tell you how we got to where we are right now just so you can mock me, then I think I'd rather carry on enjoying the view, if you don't mind." The sweet-toned sarcasm at the end of your sentence seeps with venom, and the hostility it implies does not slip away from your adversary.

This time, his laugh is a soft, whisper of a chuckle- something spiteful, foreboding- followed by matching words, "You should hear what your little community had to say about you for a couple caps and a promise not to shoot anybody- well, anybody else-" his words cut into something personal, then- and though you would normally know that attacking someone with your hands cuffed behind your back is never going to end in your favour, at this moment you couldn't care less as you swing your leg round in a swift roundhouse motion, and raise your knee towards the only place you can think to leave a mark-

You hit your target, but instead of howls of pain you are met with a split second of awkward silence as the ghoul cocks his head, unimpressed, before slamming it into your own, sending you staggering back a few paces-

Before you can reorient your vision, a heavy dull force plummets into your ribs- the sand cushions your blow slightly better than the concrete you met face-to-face with an hour ago, at least. Your arms, however, are not grateful to be pressed beneath you as a familiar, withered hand pushes into your throat, putting as much pressure on your trapped limbs when your upper body presses back as it does on your esophagus, halting your air supply as he lowers himself down to a kneel and fixes your gaze onto his,

"If I wasn't already a walking corpse, that could've really hurt- not a very nice thing to do to someone just tryna have a little bit of light conversation now, is it?" All you can do is glower through eyes blinded by the sun, which gleams behind the shadow of the ghoul's head, bearing on it a smile tweaked with frustration- you need to breathe- you can't keep this up, your heartbeat is louder than the sun in your eyes and-

The pressure releases. You turn your head to the ground and suck in air between dry, heavy coughs, and after you've finally steadied your breath, you find a minor fleck of relief in being hoisted up from the ground this time instead of scrabbling to get up at gunpoint. You wonder, perhaps, if this is some small act driven by guilt- perhaps this man had a conscience once and a set of values beyond doing what it takes to ensure one's own survival. You were a gun for hire yourself, so it would be hypocritical to criticise your captor for his line of work- mostly, you preferred to stick with jobs guarding merchant caravans and to take out bands of raiders harassing the cities you passed through, but you never questioned the legitimacy of the requests you received, or the cargo you oversaw; you had settled for a little while, having stuck around the same little settlement for a few years now and had started to develop some semblance of a connection to the people there-

or so you thought.

You know you're going to be walking for a while- so with a resigned breath, you begin saying what little there is left to say about your present situation, "Well, you probably know most of what I can tell you from the sounds of things, but I guess there's nothing else for me to do right now, and the horizon is the same no matter where you go around here. I guess you could say we're in similar lines of work, but that's not really what got me in trouble with The Brotherhood. They think they can rock up in a power armour with a logo on it and wreak havoc as they please because it's for 'the greater good', but they leave towns half-destroyed when they pass through. I didn't want that to happen to... well, I didn't like the sound of that happening where I was. So, dude gets out of his power armour and starts waving guns around screaming about some piece of pre war tech or the other, and I tell him with... a strong choice of words, to get going. He starts running for the power armour, guns blazing- and I just have better aim, I guess. Not even like I got paid for killing him, either. Maybe that would've made this whole thing a little bit sweeter."

Your profession leaves a silence hanging in the air for a little while after, but it feels appropriate. The dunes filter sand from the far west to respond to your story- the horizon quivers, but only through the illusion of heat; the sand dries your eyes before they have reason to shed tears. A loaded sigh escapes the ghoul in front of you, and the clasp on your wrist softens but for a moment before stiffening to pull you onwards, "Yep, well, caps keep you going a little longer round these parts, but money can't solve all your problems." "You should tell that to the Brotherhood. They seem to be doing pretty well for all the wealth they've hoarded- can even pay big time bounty hunters to do their shitwork from the looks of things." You retort, but after a moment follow up with, "Wish I could say I was upset about it but hell, if I were you, I'd turn me in too."

You hear that soft chuckle again, but when you turn around to catch a look at the face that matches it, you see relaxed muscles and a far-off stare- he won't let you go, but he has let his guard down but a little bit- perhaps when we get closer to my story's end, he'll even let me walk to my death with my hands unbound.

- °•. ✦ .•° -

After trudging on in silence for a while, head bowed to your fatalistic contemplations, you find as you drag yourself out of the pit in your head and look over the horizon once more that the scene has changed: the atomic orange dewdrops spattering the sky not long ago have quickly to faded into a bruised overhanging shadow of violent, lavender, crimson; twilight approaches, and you're still surrounded by desert hills and illusions.

One of these illusory quivers catches your sharp eye, a dark blip that has appeared somewhere in that distance; it's moving, but it isn't close enough for you to determine whether it's just a trick of the heat or whether it's something heading in your direction. Your brow furrows, but you say nothing yet.

Within a minute, the object comes into better focus- or, rather, the creature. Your heart skips a beat, and you open your mouth to utter some kind of warning, managing to rasp, "Get the handcuffs off of me." "Now, darlin', I thought we managed to get past this already-" "No-" You tug your bound wrists, pulling the ghoul into your side- his other arm steadies itself against your shoulder before slipping up to your jaw and dragging it to face him, his own clenched and unaccompanied by a smile this time- the pallid complexion of your own face gives him enough pause for you to blurt in a fruitless, strained whisper, "Deathclaw."

If The Ghoul's skin could have paled more than it already had in his lifeless state, then it might have at that moment. The tight grip holding you against him slackens completely and you thud onto your ass as he draws his guns and casts you a playfully pitiful glance from above, shrugging and saying, "Sorry, darlin', guess I forgot to pick up the keys." He steps in front of you as a curse rips out of your throat in the sudden panic that ensues, and you try to muster enough brain cells in this moment to figure out a way of not dying, prematurely, and becoming just another skeletal curio.

There's the back-up plan, the 'if shit goes south' plan that you still hadn't gone through with because of the possible dismemberment that it might entail- but you had not been unarmed when you had been restrained earlier, and the phantom hum of a ripper blade always strapped to your waist as your last resort. You won't be able to wield it with any competence with your hands restrained as they are, but you can hit the power button from your current position-

Though, usually, you'd prefer to do it when the blade was already in your hand, not digging into the side of your leg.

shredded leg is better than deathclaw snack. Your astute analysis confirms your decision, and with a grunt and a whack, the blade starts chugging into a steady whirring action by the will of the dregs of an energy cell embedded inside- the next couple of seconds are far too long.

The blade begins it's excursion into your thigh as the gunslinging ghoul whips around at the sound, eyes wide at the sudden display of spraying crimson. You scream, struggle to try to align the cuffs without jerking your shoulders out of place. The deathclaw bounds into the mid-distance, closing in upon it's approach- it caught your scent before you could even see it's silhouette-

The tip disappears as your leg reflexively jerks, responding to the dancing jig of the chainsaw blade- you see pathetic sparks as the thing bounces off of the cuffs- strong enough to sever a leg, too rusted and battered to cut through metal. Your plan is failing. Your leg is bleeding. The cowboy falters as the deathclaw closes further-

You make a snap decision: fingers are easier to fix than legs.

You twist your wrist, and the pain just melts into the already existing burn emanating from your leg- a bloody, three-fingered stump slips from it's cage, and you swing your still-cuffed hand around in a fluid movement to drag the ripper from its sheath within your leg, snapping the cord that ties it to your waist-

You hear a frenzied firing of a revolver, but the approaching thunks are unimpeded- and though you know your leg may give way when the adrenaline finally dies, and though you know you need to find the two fingers you lost before sand vipers snatch them up and you're known as three-fingered y/n for the rest of your life- you launch yourself from the ground on your good leg, and stagger towards the approaching beast.

You grew up in the wastelands. You grew up in a settlement up here that, like any of the rest, was constantly plagued by critters and beasts- and if you were taught anything by the survivors that surrounded you, it was the following:

If you can't blow the bastard up, get 'em in the belly.

The deathclaw- a baby, thankfully- has it's gaze fixated on the man that had in the past half a minute become it's primary aggressor- so when you stumble forward, low and bleeding, with what to the creature is just another indistinguishable bit of metal in your hands, it does not see reason to change the track of it's jump.

As it launches itself above you, you pray to lady luck that you hit your mark.

An ear-splitting yowl and a sudden muffled crash tells you she's listening, for once.

Finally, after a few ragged breaths, the adrenaline wears off and you feel the weight of your body pressing into the wounds that liberated you- and the blueberry sky fades to black as you become weightless. This time, your fall is of your own accord- and this time, something stops you from hitting the ground.

- °•. ✦ .•° -

When you come to, you do not open your eyes at first- awake though you might be, your body is heavy with exhaustion. Before your encounter with the ghoul, you had been on the run for weeks, and in the last twenty four hours had not had time to stay put long enough to sleep. Coupled with the rough journey and the blood loss, you couldn't move if you wanted to. That being said, in those few dark minutes, a few things of note still catch your attention.

There is a faint crackling to your side, and the lulling warmth of a fire that brushes in waves against your face- and though you feel the silky grains of sand cushioning most of your resting body, your head lays higher up, neck leaning up to a more elevated surface- your attention snaps to the light sensation of fingertips absently grazing your neck in a repeating pattern, and the distant hum of an old country song embedded into muscle memory. The surrounding sensations are a strange comfort for all the brutal imagery this post apocalyptic world usually beholds; but it is brief, as your neck tenses, giving away your lucidity. The hand pauses, lifts- settles somewhere to the side.

When you dare to open your eyes, you are unsurprised to see the question-begging smirk and sharp eyes peering down from above, "Have a good nap?" You bolt upright, and immediately regret it when the bending of your leg snags one of the stitches you didn't know had been sewed into you until just now. Defeated, you flop back down, turning your head to the side to gaze into the dying embers of the fire beside you- praying you can brush off the flush of blush creeping into your face to the influence of the fire. Eventually you garner the courage to speak, "Feels like I've only been out for an hour." He snorts, shaking his head, "You went down around sunset, and it'll be sunrise in a couple hours." This catches you by surprise, and not just because of the amount of time you've lost, "What happened to getting your caps as soon as possible? Lost a lot of time waiting." He frowns, but does not lose his grin, "You trying to get yourself killed? 'Cos you've done a damn fine job of that so far. No, I've just been doing some thinking." "Congratulations. I'm proud of you." His eyes narrow into slits and he tuts at your sarcasm, following your gaze into the fire, "See, it could be argued that I would've been minced ghoul splattered n' buried six feet under the dunes if you hadn't gone all psycho slicing yourself up like that to get that baby deathclaw where it hurts." "That was a baby?-" "Anyway, guess my point is I might be willing to do a lot of things, but I still got my principles- only human thing I got left, probably. So I'd say I owe it you to not kill you at least. When you can walk, we'll go east to- well, to what's left of Shady Sands, and then you can do whatever the fuck you want."

You consider his words, and not knowing how to express appreciation or what to begin to make of this mysterious stranger and his obscure appeal, you find yourself rejecting this suggestion, though you don't know why- and so naturally, you dig yourself into a hole, "Well, you could also say that I would have died of blood loss if you didn't stitch my leg up." He studies you then for a minute, before shrugging and clasping your hands together at the wrists. You begin to stammer indecipherable protest and with a smirk he pulls you up, your hands still held rigid in your lap by his own, his head resting on your shoulder as he murmurs, "Now, I'm starting to get the impression you want me to march you up to our friends at the brotherhood just to keep my company." If he can't see the warm hue in your face now, he can certainly feel the heat flushing through your flustered face- you fight against the feeling, if only to make sure you stand a chance of winning this little exchange,

"Says the man who watched me sleep all night." You feel him shrug your comment off as his grin extends, "I might look like a monster, but I was a gentleman once upon a time. Like I say, I got principles." He lets you slip forward out of his grasp when you move to shuffle yourself around. As you do, you feel for the first time you are looking at him properly, sincerely- face to face, on equal grounds, with no threats of death or necessary facades of false confidence. After soaking in as much as you allow yourself to without losing yourself to curiosity entirely, you crossing your arms across your chest, and reply,

"Well, I have principles too- and if you're oh so graciously not turning me into the brotherhood then I still I owe you, so I guess I'll just have to stick around until you nearly get yourself killed again- that's all. No other reason." The ghoul rises, resting a hand on his pistol,

"You tell yourself that, darlin'- I'm gonna enjoy this change of scenery, I think."

#greyfics ✰°.• ➸ [ 01 ]#greyfics ✰°.• ➸ [ cooper howard ]#greyfics ✰°.• ➸ [ fallout ]#greyfics ✰°.• ➸ [ x reader ]#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #fallout fanfic #cooper howard fanfic #the ghoul fanfic #x reader #greyfics #fallout tv series #I know that the way I used the lyric does not match the lyric but hey don't knock the weird literal train of inspiration #may rewrite to polish a couple details nagging at me but have put way too much time into fidgeting around with the words for now hehe #also I feel like this definitely has second part potential if I want to divvy into it in the future so #note to self for that one

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thursdayygrrrl · 9 months

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inevitably, inetivably, inebivatly

⌦ .｡.:*♡

characters: actress!wanda maximoff x gn!reader

genre: fluff, slightly suggestive

summary: After Wanda finishes filming a day drinking segment on Seth Meyers’ show to promote her current project, you take care of her.

word count: 2,061

a/n: i was watching random yt vids and came across the day drinking with seth meyers segments (the lorde and the dua lipa ones) and i just thought to write something short and sweet about it. i have not written in a while and english is not my first language, so please bear with me. this is also my first time writing for wanda. you can read it on ao3 (here) or under the cut. regardless, i hope u enjoy it !!

Your phone tells you it’s currently 3:46 PM, but the way Wanda is absolutely wasted makes it seem like 4 AM after a wild night out. She agreed to go on Late Night with Seth Meyers and participate in the day drinking segment. When the offer first came up, mentioned by her team, you were both apprehensive. But after some talk about it, guaranteeing her safety on set and the fan reception it would bring in, she ultimately agreed to it. Also, seeing your wife have some fun and let loose is one of the best sights ever. So here you were, hand on her waist, guiding her to your car after the shoot.

“Okay, Wands, we’re almost there,” you say gently.

She mumbles something. “Hm?” You ask her, wanting not to miss anything.

“Don’t wanna…”

You suddenly remember that she’s wearing shoes which, honestly, looked painful to wear. You take this as a cue and carry her bridal style the rest of the way to the car. A little yelp escapes her in surprise when you lift her with ease.

“Better?” You ask her. She hums happily and buries her head into the crook of your neck. You kiss the top of her head as you walk nearer to the vehicle. Once you’re there, you bend down slightly to open the passenger door.

Wanda removes her head from its former position once she hears the door open. She furrows her brow in that adorable manner you can never seem to get over. “Seth’s like… scary good at making people drink a lot a lot,” She slurs as you help her onto the seat and put her seatbelt on. “Yeah?” you try to keep her engaged.

“Mhm. Did you see me with those crazy cocktails? And those shots too?” Wanda rambles, emoting and gesturing without abandon, while you get behind the wheel. You chuckle, “Yeah, you took them like a champ, honey.”

“I sure did, Y/N,” She nods to herself proudly. You prep for the drive, making sure the temperature is comfortable and your phone is connected to the Bluetooth system.

You open Spotify on your phone and gesture it towards her, “Any requests?”

She shakes her head, “Whatever DJ Y/N wants!” She giggles at the impromptu nickname she calls you. Her laugh is like music to your ears, you smile along with her.

“Alright, alright, alright!” You put your joint playlist on shuffle and start driving. One of your favorite songs comes on and Wanda starts dancing along, at least as much as the seatbelt allows. You join in by tapping your finger on the wheel and lipsyncing exaggeratedly. “I love this one!” She speaks loudly, still dancing, unaware of her voice modulation.

You match her energy, “I can tell!” This drive-turned-dance party continues for a few more songs until a slower one starts playing. She runs a hand through her hair and settles into the seat with a content sigh.

“Now that was fun, Y/N. We need to do that more.”

“Dance?”

She nods with an air of authority, “Absolutely.”

“Noted, darling,” You flash her a smug smile and she blushes.

She slumps in her seat and covers her face with her hands. “God, Y/N, that petname is so corny. And old-fashioned.”

You shrug and keep driving. “Sure, but you know you like it.”

She giggles, conceding, “Yeah, yeah. I do.”

You let the music take over as you make your way home. After a while, you look over to check on Wanda only to find that she’s blissfully asleep. Her copper waves are splayed across her shoulder. You smile to yourself as you park on the driveway. You take a moment to just admire her, to be enchanted by the curve of her cheek, the slope of her nose, and the peaceful expression on her face.

You leave the car and walk to her side, opening the passenger door as quietly as you can. Wanda stirs anyway. She whines softly when her sleep is interrupted.

“It’s okay, sweet girl, we’re home now. Okay? Just let me take care of you.”

She nods as you unbuckle the seatbelt and carry her again, this time into your home. She holds you as if her life depended on it.

It was a challenge to get the front door open, but when you do, you immediately close it with your hip. You kick your shoes off and make your way to the bedroom. You lay her gently on the bed, which she immediately curls up in, then help take her heels off and pick out a change of clothes for her. The noise of clothes ruffling alerts Wanda. Her voice is muffled by the pillows and sheets surrounding her.

“May I wear one of your hoodies tonight? Pretty please?”

“You don’t have to ask, Wands. The answer is yes every time.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, a wide smile on her face while she drags out the last syllable of your name.

You look through your closet for some random sleep shorts and the exact hoodie you know she’s referring to. You also know how diligent she is with skincare, so you take the essentials with you too. Once you’ve got them, you go over to the bed again and bend so you’re at eye level with her.

“Sit up and let’s get you into something cozier, hon. Yeah?”

She wiggles her eyebrows playfully while following your instructions. “Ooooo, you wanna see me naked, huh?”

You try to suppress the growing smile on your face as you unzip the back of her dress. A blush creeps up on your face despite wanting to keep it at bay. Wanda teases you, “You totally do, Y/N! Look at you!”

The dress falls off her shoulders, revealing her upper body. She makes an excited noise. You take the dress and toss it on the floor, leaving it a problem for later, already coming up with an apology for her meticulous stylist. You sit in front of her and press a kiss on her shoulder as you unhook her bra. “I do, but I want you to be comfortable above all,” You whisper into her smooth skin.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” She pouts like a petulant child, but you know she would never mean anything bad by it. You help her slip into the shorts and the oversized hoodie. When her head pops out, a goofy smile is on her face. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Wanda.”

Now, you take her preferred cleansing balm and warm it in your hands. She closes her eyes as you massage it gently all over her face, to remove the makeup she’s wearing. Then, you take a damp cloth to rinse away the milky residue. She moans quietly at your touch.

Her eyes are still closed as you prepare to finish her routine with her favorite cleanser. “You’re so good with your hands, Y/N.” You chuckle at her comment, unsure if she meant the double entendre.

“I mean it,” She says sincerely as you keep working on her skincare, first with the cleanser then a clean washcloth to dry off. You cradle her face with your hand. She moves slightly to kiss your palm.

“I’m glad to be of service then.”

Your hand moves to rest on her thigh instead. Her face gradually gets closer and her lips meet yours. It’s surprisingly gentle and tender, especially for someone so drunk and usually so eager. You let her deepen it, let her tongue venture into the familiar environment of your mouth, until she pulls away to catch her breath. You smile and give her one last peck before standing up and gathering the stuff up off the bed.

“I’m gonna get some water and some painkillers too. You’re gonna need it.”

Wanda scoffs and clumsily tilts her head upward to maintain eye contact with you. She takes her pointer finger and pokes your chest. “Please. Judging from a while ago, I could outdrink you, Natasha, and Yelena. Combined!”

You shoot her a questioning look, stifling a smile. “Sure, honey.” With that, you leave the room briefly and she lays back down. She lands on her back with a soft thud and stretches her arms and legs out like a starfish. “Y/N,” she calls out. “I am so grateful for this bed.”

With a bottle of water and a small dish containing some pills in hand, you enter again. “The bed is pretty great. It’s done us a lot of good.” You place the dish on the bedside table and open the water bottle, urging her to sit up again. “Here, Wands, drink up.”

She closes her eyes tightly and shakes her head. She makes a noise of disapproval that is not missed by your attentive ears. You tilt your head to the side, thinking of ways to try and persuade her. Wanda is stubborn, you knew that from years of experience, but you also knew that she would always fold at your actions if you played your cards just right.

Mustering up your best acting skills, you flash her your best wide-eyed, puppy-like gaze. Her eyes unscrew the tiniest bit, but it’s not enough. So you place the opened water bottle on the side table and move on to the next course of action.

Laying down and nuzzling into her side. A hum, much like a cat’s satisfied purr, leaves her lips.

“You like that?”

Wanda nods. “Yeah. A lot.” You then subtly move to sit up, leaning your back against the headboard. She whines at the gradual loss of contact. You can’t help but giggle softly as you pat the spot beside you.

“Come up here, then. Sit up with me. I’m all yours.”

She begrudgingly does so, this time settling into your side and leaning most of her weight on you. You take this moment to brush some of the stray hairs away from her face and kiss her temple. She practically melts under your fawning.

You take your chance, continuing to play sweetly with her hair. “Now that you’re up, how about that water?”

A beat, a pause, until she yields.

“Okay, okay. Fine.”

A proud squeal you were trying to suppress escapes you. Wanda shoots you a knowing look, “Such a dork.” You quickly hand her the bottle, which she accepts and drinks from gratefully.

“Yeah, but this dork is just happy to get you hydrated before you inevitably fall asleep.”

“In-ev-it-ab-ly. Inetivably.” She sounds the word out and scrunches her nose when she mispronounces it. “That word is funny, Y/N. Inebivatly!” Both of you explode into laughter. She continues rambling about etymology and phonetics, gesturing wildly with the half-empty water bottle. "Woah!" You take it back before any of its contents threaten to spill.

“Hey! I was drinking that.” She pouts. You do your best to stay firm and mature, to resist your instinctual response to give in.

“Or were you using it as a prop?”

“Mmmh, you got me there.”

Both of you settle back on the bed. Wanda takes her arm and wraps it around your midsection. Her head rests on your chest and your steady heartbeat grounds her. You alternate between caressing her hair and languidly stroking her side. The setting sun’s golden light creeps into the windows, bathing everything in a warm tone. After a comfortable silence, she speaks softly.

“M’sleepy…”

“Go ahead and rest, darling. I’ll be right here.”

“But there’s so many hours left in the day. Only old people sleep this early,” She drags the last word out in a whine.

“That’s okay, we have tomorrow.” You assure her like you unfailingly do.

Wanda hums in contemplation before nodding approvingly, “Yeah, tomorrow.”

You keep soothing her until her eyelids eventually close, to hide those gorgeous eyes you could get lost in forever, and her breathing steadies and turns into quiet snores.

It is a guarantee that Wanda’s hangover tomorrow will be rough, but you don’t mind at all. It just gives you more permission to give her extra affection, attention, love, and care. Even in her messiest and most raw moments, there is nowhere in the world you would rather be than with her. This, you know, is certain. It is fated. It is inevitable.

#ky writes!#oneshot #fanfic #marvel #marvel oneshot #marvel fanfic #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda x reader #wanda x you

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haru-dipthong · 1 year

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I'm a big fan of localisation. I believe the goal of a translation should be to keep as much meaning and nuance as possible from the original. Localisation is key to this. Language and culture are inextricably linked, which means you must engage in cultural education and/or localisation to successfully translate. Cultural education is preferable, but in many cases it is not appropriate (not great having to pause every few seconds to read a translator note when you want to turn your brain off and watch a show). However, I think sometimes, translators take the wrong approach to localisation, and I want to talk about that here.

There was an example of "bad" localisation given by a twitter user in this Sarah Moon video: the example was anime characters subbed to use zoomer slang like "sus" and "cringe". I actually think that is an example of good localisation. I am not talking about that kind of thing.

This scene from 深夜食堂 (Midnight Diner) made me want to write this post. パチンコ has been translated as "pinball". I'm sure there are people reading that translation and cringing, just like I did! I tried to put my finger on what irked me so much about it and I realised: this localisation is localising the wrong part of the meaning of パチンコ.

Part of localising is choosing the closest cultural equivalent of a concept. This inevitably means losing some of the specific details of the original word, but usually those details aren't important (if the whole cultural concept is important, you should probably just use a translator's note IMO). For example, the word パチンコ has lots of bits of meaning in it: "gambling" "played on a machine", "time killer", "uses small metal balls", "generally played by older men", "big flashy lights", "money sink", and so on. In this context, the character is talking about "winning money" from パチンコ, so you'd expect at the very least that the localised word would preserve the "gambling" and "money sink" bits of meaning. However, instead they chose to preserve the "small metal balls" and "big flashy lights" bits of meaning (まさかの！). This is a very silly choice because those bits of meaning don't have a shred of relevance to this scene, or any other scene in this story at all. I can see a context in which "pinball" is the best possible localisation for パチンコ. But this was not it, and not even close. I've never heard of anyone winning money from pinball.

I think if I were a translator, my process for localisation would be to break down the word into those bits of meaning, then rank the bits of meaning in terms of relevance to the line/scene/story, then pick a localised word that hits as many of the higher ranked meanings as possible. In this case, there are many better localisations (read: localisations with meanings more relevant to the scene). If I were localising it, I would probably do this: "He took all the money I won from the pokies." but I am aware that pokies is an Australianism. Assuming I was localising for a global english speaking audience: "He took all the money I won from a slot machine".

(TBH though, I don't think パチンコ needs to be localised because the english equivalent loanword, pachinko, is already well known enough to be used in english subtitles imo)

#localisation #translation #japanese #langblr #japanese language #language #linguistics #jimmy blogthong #official blog post

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nso-csi · 1 month

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240820 ELLE KOREA D Edition September 2024

Q. We met you on your birthday on the 18th of July and time has passed this fast. T. It was even more meaningful to be meeting TASAKI on my birthday. I was able to feel the beauty that a pearl holds throughout the shoot.

Q. How would you have spent your birthday if there wasn't a shoot? Even though you went straight to dance practice on the shooting day T. I will probably do a commemoration birthday live with my fans like I always do yearly. Though I didn't have the time to do so on that day as I ended my practice a little over midnight, I will usually spend time with my family or my friends after I am done with the live

Q. New mini album released on the 19th of August, your solo world tour, and up till your survival program MC challenge! Are you spending your time busily on purpose? T. No, I'm a person who wants to go about my daily life being relaxed and slowly getting ready (laughs). I debuted at a young age, and it's also because I have come this far not being able to make any decision myself, without resting. However, right now, I just have lots of things that I need to do (laughs).

Q. How was KCON LA you went to at the end of July? You were the main person at the 'Dream Stage' where you did a stage with the fans. T. America holds the biggest music market, doesn't it? I garner a sense of anticipation and greed every time I go. I usually don't go and search for each and every reaction to my stages but for the stage this time, as it was also trending on SNS, I felt a sense of pride. I think that I will need to personally go and meet the fans that have supported me for so long. It's actually really not something easy for one to buy a plane ticket and fly over to another country to see the artist you like.

Q. You had your fan meeting mid July too. You did 4 shows altogether including the additionally added show. T. This is just my personal thoughts but I feel like I am especially close with my fans. I was really young when I made my debut so it was hard for me to say anything but at some point, the seal seemed to have just came off.   Q. Other than getting more comfortable, is there anything especially different as time passes? There was a stock of Pansy, which is also the title of your fan song, appearing in your 5th mini album's trailer and that really touched your fans. T. As much as Pansy is the birth flower of the very same date as SHINee's debut date, its flower language means 'the moment of debut' which holds the meaning of revealing oneself to the outside world for the very first time. I wanted to convey the meaning along with the birth flower that no matter where I belong, I will be working with the identity called Taemin and it would be nice if there would be no prejudice present at my start.

Q. Despite being in your 17th year since debut, do you know that you have lots of new fans coming in? T. If that’s true, it will be something I am very thankful for! I want to make it impossible for them to get out (laughs). Thinking that there aren’t a lot of teams that can promote for so long regardless if it’s as SHINee or as a solo artist, I want to be the real memories of others. The song released this time may be a memory to people 10 years later too.

Q. Your mini 5th album title means 'Eternal'. On the other hand, you are starting your world tour titled at the end of August. They both have a totally opposite meaning and that's interesting. T. You will remember the name, won't you. I chose the word 'Eternal' for the album name with the desire to leave a record like a proper noun despite the change in generation. I have lived a life where there's no guaranteed anonymity ever since a long time ago and I have thought a lot in regards to this. I know it's a thankful life but I wonder what will be a difference if I am not exposed to the public's view, when I think of the unnecessary misunderstandings that inevitably accompany me, I think about 'Gaze' itself. However, that gaze itself will be very different depending on each person and the one who recognizes the eyes that people have on will be me. If I don't recognize it, it will eventually be nothing. That's why, I decided on the tour title to show it on stage.

Q. Your resolution for your first solo world tour that starts at the end of August is… T. They say that SHINee is 2nd generation idol, right. However, as much as we are actively promoting right now, I want to be a symbolic existence and not be forgotten. Substitute someone, the industry likes to use the word 'Substitute'. I know that people can express it that way and it's not something said wrongly but because it made it sound like (we are) products, I don't like it. I want to continue to open up myself and my possibilities through an even wider market and stages abroad.

cr. iheartshinee_

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bucky-barnes-diaries · 2 years

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Day 14 — Role Play

Pairing || CEO!Bucky x MysteryWoman!Reader

Word Count || Around 2000

Contents & Warnings || Smut — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, explicit content/language, pet names, prostitution, oral (male receiving), face fucking, degradation (use of the word whore), protected vaginal sex, alcohol consumption, choking, Sir kink, orgasm denial, mention of bodily fluids.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Kinktober Masterlist

You took a deep breath, filling your lungs with calm and pure air to compose yourself before knocking on the hotel suite. A few seconds later, the door was opened by the most handsome man you’d ever come across.

“Hey there,” you purred as you cocked your head teasingly to the side while displaying an alluring smile.

The man stood high and assertive in the doorway as he checked you out from head to toe with a mischievous smirk on his face. His eyes lingered for a second longer on your cleavage that peeked from your coat before he moved aside to let you in with a warm welcome.

The suit was huge and luxurious. You knew who the client was, of course. James Barnes, CEO and one hunk of a man—every woman's hot dream, and he would be all yours for the evening. Mr Barnes would be paying lots of money tonight for your services, and you would, to the best of your abilities, please this man to the fullest with whatever he wished for.

“Let me take your coat.” His sleek and husky voice uttering even such innocent words aroused your whole body with need.

“Thank you,” you muttered in a sultry style, trying to one-up him with your sensual tone.

Mr Barnes groaned behind you, followed by a low curse once the coat was off, revealing the dress that barely covered any of your skin. You felt his presence behind you, inching closer until he was all but pressed up against you. His breath fanned your neck, and his hand grabbed your hip. If his wish was to split you in half in the entry, then, by all means, you would bend over and let him have at it. But it didn’t seem that he wanted it that fast and easy.

“Come with me,” he murmured in your ear as he ghosted his lips on the shell.

You followed him into the main bedroom and sat on the bed, making yourself comfortable by leaning back on your palms and crossing your legs.

“Champagne?” The kind gentleman offered.

“Yes, please, Sir.”

He gave you the glass and clinked his with yours before he sat beside you on the bed with a smug look—both of you taking a sip. You placed your palm on his clothed thigh, slowly stroking up and down as he leaned in closer to you.

You talked briefly in hushed and teasing voices—building up the inevitable that would occur tonight.

“So, Mr Barnes, what would you like to do to me tonight?” You purred as you inched your hand closer to his cock straining his pants.

“What am I allowed to do?” He questioned. His eyes were already swimming with intense lust. He just needed confirmation that you were willing to submit.

“Whatever your heart desires, Mr Barnes,” you leaned closer, ghosting your lips with his, “and whatever your dick yearns for,” you whined as you palmed the dent in his pants.

Mr Barnes shut his eyes briefly to compute your sinful words. He could never resist such an offer from a woman like you.

“Stand in front of me and take off that slutty little dress of yours,” he ordered as he seized your jaw hard.

With no second thought, you got up and stood before him. He leaned back on his palms as he watched you intently. You unzipped the dress, and it fell, pooling at your feet, leaving you in your see-through underwear. His mouth parted, and he licked the corner of his mouth as he studied your curves.

“Take it off.”

Unclasping your bra and slipping off your panties, you finally held no secrets from him as you stood completely bare.

Something in him switched the moment you were revealed to him. That tiny glimmer of sweetness in his eyes was gone and replaced with a desire to dominate and conquer.

“Get on your knees,” he all but growled as he got up from the bed and towered over you, making your whole body tingle at his roughness.

This man had decided to be in total control tonight, so you would do nothing but attend to his every command.

You happily went on your knees for him, no questions asked, so eager to please as you watched him undress till he was left in his underwear as well.

“Are you gonna be good tonight and let me do what I want?” It felt more like a statement than a question—like there was no choice but to say yes, although you could never dream of saying no.

“Yes, Sir,” you confirmed as you looked up at him and displayed a delicious smile, “but,” you reached into your purse on the floor to retrieve an item, “you have to wear this,” you held up a condom.

He chuckled as he shook his head in amusement. There was also a slight annoyance written on him with your only exception of using protection. “How much extra without the condom?”

“Nu-uh,” you shook your head with a smirk, “first time with a condom only, and then you can do me as raw and dirty as you want all the other times.”

“Other times?” He licked his bottom lip at the confirmation that this would be more than a one-time occurrence. “I’ll hold you up to that.”

You gazed up at him as he removed the last article of clothing—his underwear. His thick and heavy cock coming into view had you part your lips as you practically salivated, and your eyes glimmered with hunger.

“Oh my. Quite impressive, Mr Barnes,” you complimented as he put the condom on his girthy length.

You go to take him in your hand, but he's quick to shut you down. “Don't touch me. A filthy whore like you doesn't deserve it.” He had a cruel yet teasing look on his face.

His spiteful yet arousing words had you solidify your submissiveness to him. “Ok, Sir,” you complied as you held your hands behind your back.

With one hand, he grabbed his covered dick, and the other went to the back of your head to push you on his cock. You wrapped your lips around his tip, suckling and swirling your tongue on him until he was adequately satisfied with the teasing, but now, he wanted more.

He forced you to take more and more of him in your mouth till your nose met his base and the tip of his cock tickled the back of your throat. Having him nestled so deep made you cough, and the vibrations had shivers run down his spine as he let out a throaty groan.

He gave you no time to acclimate to his girthy cock as he thrust his hips quick and sharp into your cavity, taking all that your warm and wet mouth had to offer him—bruising and abusing it.

“Look up at me.” Your watering eyes stared up at the powerful man as you slobbered all over his cock and balls, making a complete mess with your saliva as he rammed into your poor mouth. “Yeah, look at me, you fucking whore. So full of my cock in that slutty little mouth of yours.” With a few more sharp thrusts, he pulled out of your used cavity, finally letting you breathe pure oxygen as you gasped for air.

“Such a beautiful mess,” he mumbled as he caressed your sore jaw. “Go sit on the bed for me.”

You did as he said and sat on the edge of the bed—supporting your weight on your palms and crossing your legs, teasing him by not revealing your sex yet.

“Spread them,” he growled while moving closer, “and show me that pussy, you whore.”

You picked your feet up from the floor and placed them on the mattress, spreading your thighs nice and wide for him to view you. He now stood towering over you as he lusted over your wet and glistening pussy. His stiff cock twitched, and he pumped it in his tight fist to relieve some of the aching need.

Suddenly, he pounced on you and moved further up the bed to have more room to play. His hand clasped down on your throat, making you shriek at the harsh action. He squeezed enough to bring a hint of pleasurable discomfort.

“You're my whore for tonight, aren't you?”

“Y-yes, Sir.”

“Will you let me use you like one? Fuck you like one?”

“Y-yes, S-sir, please. Fuck me like a dirty whore.” The words came out as a struggling murmur, but he could hear you loud and clear. He chuckled at you submitting to him like you were nothing of value.

He glided his condom-covered cock on your sticky folds before he tapped his head on your clit, making you twitch due to being so sensitive with need. He lined himself up with your hole and sheathed his entire cock between your quivering walls with no warning, making you cry at the brutal force. His fullness was perfection, and you've never in your life felt so complete.

“Fuck, I've never felt a more tighter pussy than this,” he growled in your face as he ever so slowly pulled out before ramming inside you once more, making you wince at the pain laced with pleasure.

He snapped his pelvis into yours as he brutally fucked you to his liking while he kept his hand around your pulse at all times. It seemed like he took all of his pent-up frustration and stress out on your poor pussy, and you didn't mind one bit. The way he was pounding you, so primal and rough, was nothing like you'd ever experienced before, and you needed this just as much as he.

“You take me so well, baby. You like this? You like being a whore that gets her pussy fucked and used?”

“Y-yes, Sir. Don't s-stop.”

His growls and grunts were so animalistic as he continued to pound you into the mattress with no effort, barely even breaking a sweat. You clutched the sheets in your grasp and cried aloud like the cock whore you were.

“God, I'm gonna fucking come,” he groaned as his hips stuttered.

“I-I'm so close, Mr Barnes.” You brought your hand to where he and you were connected to play with your clit, but he clasped your hands in his and placed them above your head.

“Don't fucking come, or I swear you will regret it.”

A second later, he moaned loudly, followed by heavy grunts as he spilt his seed into the condom, slamming brutally into you as he rid himself of the orgasm. You whined as you struggled not to come, not wanting to piss off the man in charge if you did. It was cruel of him to deny you, but at the same time, it had to be the hottest thing you've ever experienced.

Once he was done, content and satisfied, he pulled out of your used hole, making you wince before he fell to his side and pulled you with him as he cradled your body to his.

A minute or two went by in silence before all was back to normal.

“Ah, that was amazing, honey,” your husband let out in satisfaction.

You snuggled further into him, blissfully happy and content that you'd pleased him so much. “It really was, babe. We played real good.” You peered up at his face that now beamed with softness and love.

“Maybe a little bit too good,” he chuckled. “The condom was a nice addition. But it honestly made me want to forget about the role play and instead bend you over and spank you for suggesting it.”

“Well, I did say you could do me as raw and dirty all the other times,” you grinned up at him.

“That is very true.”

He flipped you over to your back again, making you giggle as he found himself on top. “I did pay for a double session, and this time,” he discarded the condom before he sheathed his raw cock in your deprived pussy, making you moan and flutter your eyes shut, “I will make my wonderful wife come so fucking hard on my cock.”

Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

I don’t do taglists so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

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finexbright · 2 years

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she is beauty we are world class seems to be a song about louis' relationship with fame and social media in general. lemme elaborate lyric by lyric

conversation is currency - he needs to be extremely calculative with his words and what he says whether it's for an interview or with a fan or whatever as long as it's in a public setting because he knows his words will be used to fuel speculation

shapes become a language - thinking of emoji culture and how so many conversations on social media are had through emojis or in general abbreviations and such

square eye and sunglasses - celebrity looks and the poses they hold, sometimes they have this poised, indifferent manner

finding faces in the trees - definitely paparazzi

fabricated fairytales bring a new world to life - making celebrity culture and fame look high class when it really is exploitative in nature (also headlines that are constant from just like you)

the chorus - fame is a fickle fiend and it's beautiful and after years of being in the spotlight, he's somehow learned to maneuver this lifestyle

escape the inevitable - trying to navigate a private life while being a public figure and the tricks he uses to do that

fade into light, soak up the empathy - how despite trying to be as private as possible, sometimes you just can't hide things and you sort of need to fade back into the spotlight and soak up the empathy and gratitude

surrounded by light (the bridge) - the endless spotlight of having fame and how in the face it can be and how there's always camera flashes going off

the outro - are we one or we two / are we me or are we you - a very existential, introspective question because it's more like "am i a person or am i brand or am i both?" and how to navigate through that thought process and realise your identity and your place in this world

have we been all this before, do you see what i see? - it's a repetitive cycle, so much that it's happened so many times that you tend to forget if it really happened or did you just dream it up and you sort of want confirmation from someone else. very reflective of overthinking and throws back to the line of conversation being currency because of how much he needs to think before talking

#hastily thrown but hopefully some of you will understand it #she is beauty we are world class #lyric analysis

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misscammiedawn · 2 years

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50 Days of HypnoFetish - Day 2: Bratting

Alignment: 100% Top Only - Lady Ru'etha's Sunrise could NEVER. (She has tried. It never goes far)

Bratting is an art. One I never really understood because my experience, until this past year, had been with those who enjoyed to fight for the sake of the fight.

There is nothing wrong with that, I can respect the allure of wanting to test one's strength and try to overcome. To feel that the opposition from your partner is giving as much as possible and that if there is surrender, it is earned through exhaustion all available options.

It is the difference between one who wishes to test their restraints and confirm their helplessness and someone who wishes to escape and prove that they are not helpless at all.

I am not a fan of the fight until you collapse model because I do not feel strong enough to provide that. Eventually the keyfabe of the scene will break, in-scene and out-of-scene emotions inevitably clash. My imposter syndrome keeps me from committing and when I am in opposition with my play partner I can never tell when and where the lines are. It's emotionally exhausting for me.

Much love to all those who *can* top those kinds of scenes. It's just not me.

But when my partner and I are working towards the same goal? When strength and power is exchanged and every move is a battle of wits and wills?

Oh how I am on-board with that.

I get into little battles of wits and wills with my darling lass every now and again. I wrote a story about one such occasion here. As many Madison/Belladonna stories tend to be, this was inspired by a real moment where I had misworded a suggestion *just* enough that it gave my dear brat the wiggle room to make it a chase. I had asked her to brat as hard as she could, but when I said a certain word it would cause her to begin pleading. My intention was that she would maintain her boisterous and confident energy as words begging for surrender poured from her lips.

She was able to ignore it because when I told her which trigger I intended to use I got the wording *just* wrong enough that she could ignore it.

Even if it had worked, she may well have continued bratting just the same way she had. Because another time we were clashing our minds against one another she confessed to me her weakness. "I don't want to win."

Her bratting is her pleading. She wants to lose and every jab, jibe, provocation, mischievous giggle and bounce of self-satisfied delight is outright saying "Please hypnotize me, Miss Dawn. Please make me surrender, please make me helpless, please prove that submission is inevitable."

So what do I mean when I say bratting and why is it hot?

It's the emotional charge of it. I have always loved it when people intentionally get under my skin and try to get a rise out of me. Regardless of which headspace I am in, I am told that I have the most delightful reactions and I like how active a bratting scene is. I can go out, trying to demand and command attention and obedience and in the right circumstances, someone rewards my conviction with their own.

It's the most delicate kind of dance, because energies have to be aligned. If someone deflects or tanks the energy then it is removed from the scene. If it is redirected and poured back towards the other party then it grows.

Bratting is the process of performing "Yes, and" improv while using the language of no. The unspoken truth is that every action is designed to go to the same destination. That every action and reaction is within the keeping of the game and the game is over when the brat has been subdued or the energy of the scene dies.

I vastly prefer it when the brat eventually surrenders.

The best thing about this kind of play from my experiences, (besides seeing the broad smile and hearing delighted giggles and feeling my own buttons being pressed) is it pushes me. Drives me to break my routine and actually engage with the induction and seduction processes. It makes trance all the more of a reward, which is a delightful thing when a simple snap of the fingers is able to win it at the best of times.

Of course. I am a Fae and I cheat. I am a horrible cheat when it comes to these contests. 90% of the time keeping me within the rules of the game is part of the fun. My hypnotee pushes my buttons and makes me want to win fair and square.

But the 10% of the time, when a smirk crosses me face and I firmly command a quick and powerful victory?

Can you even imagine the power rush of riling up a partner to get ready to combat you before you say "You like Captain Marvel, don't you? Then you'll know what I mean when I say "I have nothing to prove to you." SLEEP."

Gosh I never realized how much I would enjoy it until I found a bratting partner on my own wavelength.

Day 1: Unwinnable Conditions

FULL SCHEDULE MASTER POST

Day 3: Summoning

#dawn posting #hypnosis #hypnokink #50 days of fetishes #scheduled reblog

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whitherwanderyouspirit · 11 months

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20 questions for fic writers

I was tagged by @pinkytoothlesso11! Thank you! This looks fun!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Currently only 11.

2. What's your total A03 word count?

61,178...feels like it would be a lot more! I do have several un-posted WIPs and unfinished chapters, so I'm guessing that's why my brain is doing a double-take.

3. What fandom's do you write for?

Currently, only Trollhunters/Tales of Arcadia. I have an unfinished WIP for Hocus Pocus that I've been chipping away at since last Halloween, but it's far from done. I tend to kind of zero in on a single fandom at a time, for the most part. I've been part of a lot of fandoms in the past though, so there's every chance I could jump over to another and drop a fic at any given time.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Locked Rooms

Media Consumption

Snippets, Snails, and Trollish Tales

A Measure of Intellect

Sketchy Antiques

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Many times yes, sometimes no. If I'm not responding to a comment you left on my work, I'm either struggling with social burnout or I've waited so long to respond that I feel like it would be...awkward. I am thankful for and genuinely appreciate all comments though! Sometimes, I just don't have the spoons left over at the end of the day.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably Blood and Frost, which is located within Snippets, Snails, and Trollish Tales. If only because it's left intentionally unclear within the narrative whether or not the monster is the protagonist's deceased and reanimated wife or just a doppelganger. I'm not a big fan of raw angst or whump. A dash, just enough to pull the heartstrings is good, but I've dealt with enough trauma in my life that I don't read to intentionally induce negative emotions.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Locked Rooms. It's not an end all to solve to Barbara and Walter's notable relationship drama, but it's enough of a milestone that at least one of them probably felt major relief from the outcome. Underneath the pain from the blunt-force trauma to his skull.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully, no. I'm very relieved that this fandom seems to honor the concept of "don't like, don't read."

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Generally, no. I'll get suggestive and imply or tease certain inevitabilities or outcomes of what the characters intend to do, but I just can't stay engaged enough with smut to write it. I don't have a problem with smut at all, and will read it if it involves characters I ship, but I don't really get anything from it. I'm asexual, and I tend to just zone out during those scenes. I think it's a part of a healthy relationship when both parties clearly want it, so I think I'm generally clear that, yes, these two are fucking. I just...get too bored with it to write it.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I would with the right motivation and time, but not yet. I do read them though, if I like both fandoms.

Having come into the ToA fandom from Danny Phantom (I kept seeing that meme about good series that have "wtf did I just watch" endings and figured it was worth watching), I have brainstormed out scenarios where Vlad gets his ass chewed out by Barbara on the importance of reciprocated feelings and for being a stalker. Not motivated to write it at the moment, but it's fun to visit.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware of, but I've considered translating my own for language practice. I'm fluent (albeit out of practice) in Japanese in addition to English.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but I'd be interested in collaborating if the story premise peaked my interest!

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

All-time? Oh man, I tend not to rank things like that, to be honest. My current fixation is Stricklake. Longest ship...probably Touya/Yukito from Card Captor Sakura? I was really hoping the CLAMP would explore more of their relationship in the current follow-up series but, alas, Nakayoshi has the final say I guess (because you can't convince me that CLAMP, the queens of smut doujin and shipping crack that they are, didn't want to pimp out their power couple as much as possible).

I'm admittedly not big into shipping in the grander scheme. It's less common for me to get into a ship than, say, some other aspect of a story or character. It happens, but it's not the norm.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I am entirely too much of a perfectionist to never finish my WIPs, even if they seem to be taking forever for me to update. If I've posted it, I plan on finishing it eventually.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm good about keeping characters in-character, from both an action and a dialogue perspective. Also grammar. Generally, I think my pacing's usually okay, though sometimes I think I draw things out too much.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I have the hardest time figuring out what idle background actions are going on during dialogue-heavy scenes. This is responsible for 75% of my writing delays, lol. You would think that as someone who got their writing start in text-based role play, I would be a master of fluffing up the spaces between to up my wordcount, but not anymore! Gone are the days when I could churn out multiple 500+ RP posts. To be fair, though, I think I've finally eliminated all my more damning writing tells from those days, lol.

Figuring out how to do this better though is something I'm actively working to improve.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I try to stick to what I know, or get at least a little familiar with the language so that the characters sound natural enough. I will fall back on the protagonist not speaking enough of the foreign language to understand, and thus not translate it directly.

I generally won't create languages or conlang for fantasy races. I don't have a problem with them, but it's an effort that I often just don't have the energy to undertake. When writing starts to feel like work for me, the writer's block tends to set in quickly. I try to avoid that.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Published or no? Published: Tales of Arcadia/Trollhunters. Unpublished...Probably Animorphs. And by "unpublished," I mean it's probably handwritten in pencil in a leftover marble notebook from middle school.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Currently, A Measure of Intellect. I enjoy exploring the modern fantasy aspects of ToA that would theoretically occur post-reveal in Arcadia Oaks. It's an aspect of modern fantasy that I think often gets overlooked because the reveal is often designed to be set as the ending of a series. It's always been my favorite part to fantasize about though--how the mundane world and fantasy can intermesh and interact.

If I can ever finish In Betweens and move on to post-Trollhunters works set in that series, I think some of the things I'd like to write would be my favorites. I just need to figure out the details of this plot and get it done...

#Ask Game #Fic Writers Ask Game #Long Post #Why the heck is there no underline option for text editing on this hellsite?!

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lizpaige · 11 months

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Thanks @tinyarmedtrex and @zephfair for the tag!

How many works do you have on ao3? 39 on lizpaige (12 on my IT account, 4 on my BBC sherlock account - I made new accounts for fandoms for some reason)

What’s your total ao3 word count? 280,560 across my three accounts

What fandoms do you write for? The Raven Cycle atm, have written for HP on this account too

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 1. Someone (jegulus) 2. The Holiday (wolfstar / offscreen jily) 3. PDA (pynch) 4. rendezvous (pynch) 5. Gossip in Gryffindor Tower (wolfstar)

Do you respond to comments? I have tried to be better about it recently, but I don't always get to it. I read and cherish every comment tho!

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Probably finis (trc) - spoiler: everyone dies lol but it's kind of hopeful at the end?

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? All my fics have a happy ending I think?

Do you get hate on fics? I got a few rude comments on HP fics which put me off writing in that fandom. TRC fandom has been lovely.

Do you write smut? Occasionally 🫣

Do you write crossovers? No. I write fics inspired by other works, but no characters from other fandoms have appeared in my fics.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Not that I know of.

Have you ever co written a fic? No, but I want to! Has to be the right fic/idea and happen naturally tho i think. I am the worst when I am told to do something, it never gets done.

What’s your all time favorite ship? atm it's pynch, but it changes. I'm big into friends to lovers ships.

What’s a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I hate to say Sirius Black Doesn't Care because I think about it often and I know exactly how it will end, but I just haven't been in an HP mood to get to writing it.

What are your writing strengths? I come up with a lot of ideas! lmao I don't always write them all, but I think I am an idea generator sometimes.

What are your writing weaknesses? Finishing. Or I come up with an idea but don't have enough to make it a full story.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I try to avoid it for multiple reasons. I don't want to offend, I will inevitably get it wrong, and I personally don't like to have to look up a phrase or something when I'm reading a fic if it wasn't translated already for me.

First fandom you wrote for? Embarrassingly probably the musical Rent? I think I roleplayed as some characters on MySpace and then moved to writing fic on ff.net. I think I was 13? lol

Favourite fic you’ve ever written? Oof I don't know I'm going to cheat and say it's not a specific fic, but a type of fic I write that I like. I'm a fan of the silly ones I write. The quick oneshots in both trc and hp that are like ~2k and just quick snippets/slice of life fics. I made a series for them - moonstar tales (wolfstar) and magic boys (pynch)

I tag @mychemicalrachel @iammistressofmyfate and @mletart if you want and haven't done this already!

#writing ask game #my fics

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peascheinthevoid · 1 year

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A letter from him💌

Hello.

This is the last birthday of my twenties. I don't know whether it's because of the peculiarities of the profession I'm in, but birthdays are always accompanied by a slight feeling of embarrassment. For me, it’s just a day like any other but.. because so many people wish me so sincerely, I feel quite happy and fortunate.

I often think about how love is just a process of being named. Like Kim Namjoon becoming ‘Kim Namjoon’. Although this is only one day out of a numerous 365 days, my birthday doesn’t just pass by without notice, even for my 29-year-old self. This is all thanks to you.

I want to be someone who is as honest as possible, but in this relationship between fan and artist, existing somewhere between the tangible and intangible, just what can we go beyond and what can we become? Is everything acceptable under the generous phantom label of ‘love’? I continue to have so many experiences where disclosure becomes weakness and honesty leads to hurt, but I still don’t really know.

I’ve said in the past that as time goes on, it becomes harder to say things and that makes me sad. I think that continues to be true. But I do think I’m a lot more level-headed now. The sincere feelings I once used to worry I would never receive now pour onto me like heavy rain. As a result, I realised that I, who used to think that it was cool to be a pessimist and think that nothing matters, am actually quite an optimist by nature. Isn’t this a miracle? These days, I live by the words ‘why not’. This optimism can be explained as a product of the love I receive from the people around me, and I am spreading it around.

I am also putting it into the songs that will come out some day.

Right, could there be a more beautiful way for me to be honest than through music? Everyone already knows this, but sometimes I feel like music alone is not enough. I wonder if that’s the reason why I became part of BTS. To want to quench that thirst through multiple different means. Whether it’s through programs, interviews, dances or whatever it may be.. what a blessed life this is. And these things always make me want to look clearly at where I've come and think deeply about the place I'm in.

They say if coincidences overlap, it must be inevitable. Coincidences are also fate in disguise. I think this letter I’m writing to you right now feels like that - like it would have been written in September of 2023, no matter what version of myself I might have been then. The birthday letters that I write each year are all places that I have arrived at in that moment, and are each a different language of love. Thanks to all of you, I’m living a really good life. I want to live a good life. All I have wanted each time is to just tell you I love you as the latest best version of myself. It's probably impossible for me to hug each and every one of you, but the feelings I have go beyond that. I won't ask you to love me in all of my different forms. However, since you do give me your love, I promise to do my best.

And so the last birthday of my twenties also smoothly sails by. No matter what skies you’re under, let’s please try to be healthy and be happy for a long time. Let’s meet again soon, after some time has passed.

I sincerely wish you a happy birthday as well, though it may be a bit late, or perhaps slightly in advance.

Thank you.

-Namjoon [230912]

#namjoon #bts rm #kim namjoon #namjoon birthday

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suckitsurveys · 7 months

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How many pieces of gum have you chewed today? Zero, I rarely chew gum.

Any big events coming up? I have a meeting I’m running at work on Wednesday which is pretty big and I’m gunna probably throw up during it. But then I have a concert on Thursday (S Club hahahahah) and then Sunday we are leaving for the Dells for a couple days.

Do you know anyone who is paralyzed? Yes.

What did you do last night? I started packing for the trip I just mentioned because I am That Person. Then I watched John Mulaney’s special New In Town. Then I got a buncha lunch stuff ready for work for the week.

By doing that, what time did you go to bed? Like 11 maybe.

And what time did you wake up this morning? 4:45am.

Have you been debating anything recently? Well yeah now I am debating on even getting tickets the Vampire Weekend show in July because I thought the plan was always that my friend was going to come to Chicago to see it with me but it happens to be on the same weekend she has a camping trip planned and I don’t know anyone else who would go with me.

Who was the last person to text you? My husband.

Are there icicles on the sides of your house? Not right now.

Do you get intimidated easily? Little bit, yeah.

Does anything on your body hurt currently? My back, always. I need someone to dig their elbows into me.

Are you often trying to escape the inevitable? Blah.

What were the first words you said today? Something to my cat because she was SCREAMING at me this morning.

Which lyric is your favorite from the song you are listening to? I’m not listening to anything.

Does it hold any memories? --

Why did you last cry? Tik Toks.

Did someone see you crying? My husband.

Do you crack your knuckles? Yeah.

Is it really going to give you arthritis? Probably oh well.

Are you excited for the new year? It just started.

List three things you are excited for in ‘09? Oh good LORD I don’t need to be reminded of myself in 09.

What is the wallpaper on your cellphone? Lock screen is a signed polaroid of Michael Longfellow from SNL and my home screen is just purple hearts.

Where is your best friend right now? Two are definitely asleep and two are at home.

Can you count to 100 in any other language? Spanish.

Do you headbang often? Nope.

Magenta or orchid? Magenta.

Are you a fan of Rob Zombie? Eh.

Last two songs you listened to? The two new Vampire Weekend singles, Gen X Cops and Capricorn.

Are there any shoes you are really wanting? Yes I need a pair of every day sneakers so bad and I keep going back and forth over these pairs of slip on Converse.

Describe what you are wearing? Jeans and a red shirt and a purple pull over hoodie.

Look out the window - what do you see? The building next to ours.

Television or computer? Both.

Germany or France? France.

Hawthorne Heights or She Wants Revenge? HH I guess.

Is your skin sensitive? Yes.

Are you sensitive in general? Sure.

Who last left you a note? I don’t know.

Have you ever made a gingerbread house? Yup.

Who did you last get in a fight with? It’s been a bit since that happened.

Are things resolved between the two of you now? ---

Did you have any weird dreams last night? Not that I know of.

Tell me one thing you remember from it? ---

Lets have some lyrics to end this, yeah? Don’t think I’ve left you all behind I still love you and Tennessee, You’re always on my mind And mama, every Saturday, I can hear your Southern drawl A thousand miles away

#surveys

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purplesurveys · 7 months

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1812

How many pieces of gum have you chewed today? None. But the last time I chewed gum was in December when my teammate and Resident Gum Supplier Ruthie had a pack of gum with her and was giving it away after our team dinner hahaha.

Any big events coming up? There's my resignation coming up which I'm really looking forward to. It's really what my body and mental health are asking from me at this point. I'm still job-hunting at the moment, but in case that takes a while to settle I also have an agreement with my current company that they're ready to have a spot for me moreso for backend support – which I'm fine with. The main thing I just really no longer have the capacity for is dealing with clients.

Do you know anyone who is paralyzed? Yes.

What did you do last night? Applied for a couple more jobs, watched some videos here and there, and that's pretty much it. I was really tired and I didn't even have coffee the whole day so I was out by around 11 PM.

By doing that, what time did you go to bed? Oh hehe. ^ There ya go.

And what time did you wake up this morning? Initially it was around 7 AM, then I went back to sleep again and when I woke up it around 8:50 AM – just enough time to prep for work.

Have you been debating anything recently? You can say that, but it's a work issue and I don't care enough about it to expound on it in full detail here.

Who was the last person to text you? Work contact.

Are there icicles on the sides of your house? No, I live in Southeast Asia.

Do you get intimidated easily? Little bit, yeah. So I prefer to play it safe most of the time.

Does anything on your body hurt currently? Yup my upper back so the area around my shoulders and the back of my neck have felt extremely strained this week. I can't wait to more or less bathe myself in ointment tonight, lol.

Are you often trying to escape the inevitable? I guess so, especially if the 'inevitable' entails major changes. It's why I held out at my job for as long as I did or stayed in my previous relationship even when it was blatantly falling apart.

What were the first words you said today? I can't even remember. All I know is that I woke up with the heavy weight of anxiety that I usually wake up with on weekdays.

Which lyric is your favorite from the song you are listening to? I'm watching a video game playthrough at the moment, no music.

Does it hold any memories? Sure! It's a Mario Kart 8 video and it often makes me recall the fun I had playing Mario Kart Wii when I was younger.

Why did you last cry? Saturday.

Did someone see you crying? Probably. I was crying in my car, but the car parked beside me had someone inside (I assume they were waiting for someone) – considering I don't have much of a tint on my windows they probably saw me crying.

Do you crack your knuckles? Yeah at least once a day.

Is it really going to give you arthritis? They say it doesn't, but if it turns out to do so then it is what it is for me. I've been cracking my knuckles for as long as I can remember lol.

Are you excited for the new year? That's around...10 months from now, and it's so soon to tell haha. I'd like to give 2024 a chance as to what it can give me and where it can take me.

List three things you are excited for in ‘09? So that's 15 years ago, but I remember being excited to have my first pair of glasses; catching New Moon in the cinema (LOL); and the release of the Telephone music vide.

What is the wallpaper on your cellphone? Lock screen is of Namjoon's bare back hah, home screen is an OT7 military photo.

Where is your best friend right now? Either at home or spending the night out with her boyfriend.

Can you count to 100 in any other language? Filipino and Spanish.

Do you headbang often? Not anymore.

Magenta or orchid? Magenta.

Are you a fan of Rob Zombie? Nope.

Last two songs you listened to? Escape Route by Paramore & No. 2 by RM and Park Jiyoon.

Are there any shoes you are really wanting? It'd be cool to have Sambas but I'm in no rush to have them since everyone's still wearing them haha.

Describe what you are wearing? My AJ Lee t-shirt and my favorite pair of gray lounge shorts.

Look out the window - what do you see? My curtains blocking out the view.

Television or computer? Computer, if computer can also mean laptop.

Germany or France? France.

Hawthorne Heights or She Wants Revenge? I'm not familiar with either.

Is your skin sensitive? When it comes to being irritated, yes. I'd get rashes from certain cloths and grass.

Are you sensitive in general? Personality-wise, I am.

Who last left you a note? Leah telling me to take a breather.

Have you ever made a gingerbread house? Not make it from scratch, but I've had to decorate a gingerbread house that was made in advance.

Who did you last get in a fight with? My mom. Tbh she's the only person I fight with these days lol, I'm super low-maintenance and haven't argued with anyone in years.

Are things resolved between the two of you now? Yep pretty much.

Did you have any weird dreams last night? I probably did.

Tell me one thing you remember from it? I never remember my dreams.

Lets have some lyrics to end this, yeah? Dear, don’t look back anymore / Left behind these memories mixed up so vividly will be these remaining lives like extras / All you did was just to do your best.

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