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likeumeanit9497 · 4 months

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watch | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: after hearing you confess all of your insecurities to him, matt makes it his mission to have you see yourself the way that he sees you.

warnings: established relationship smut; fluff; mentions of body insecurities; hint of disordered eating; fingering (f receiving); dirty talk; choking; 18+

notes: i dreamt up this smut last night and immediately got to writing because it felt a little too real. i also knew it was gonna be a shorter one shot (compared to all of my others) so decided to try out second person narration rather than first person. i still can't decide which is better, so pls let me know which u all prefer to read. i hope ya'll enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed dreaming ab it ;)))

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

With Mac Miller playing softly from Matt’s tv, you sighed to yourself as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup. You took a moment to inspect your appearance in the full length mirror that you had been getting ready in front of, and felt like you didn’t recognize the girl in the reflection. For some reason, you were having a bad everything day. You had started getting ready by doing your hair, and it just wouldn’t fall right once you had finished styling it. Moving on to makeup, you had struggled with making your eyeliner match and all of your base makeup looked splotchy; it was like nothing was sitting the way it should on your skin.

Filled with frustration, you were tempted to tell Matt to cancel the dinner reservation, scrub everything off your face, and tuck yourself in his bed for the rest of the night. But you wouldn’t do that, because he had been so excited about planning your date night all by himself.

You and Matt had been dating for a few months, and had built a relationship filled with the perfect combination of comfort and excitement. Even though you both lived apart, there was rarely a day when you and him were not doing something together — whether that be just laying in his bed watching movies all day, or going on a random adventure in the middle of nowhere. You could never grow tired of being around him, but for some reason your insecurities in your appearance were so severe today that you almost felt like you wanted to hide yourself from him.

As you leaned closer to the mirror to inspect your creasing concealer under your eyes, Matt walked into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. “You look pretty,” He started, heading towards his closet to pick out an outfit. “You about ready?” You watched him through the mirror as he put on a pair of boxers, feeling a lump form in your throat at how undeniably beautiful he looked. You were hit with the realization that his looks so clearly outshined your own, and hated the idea of other people recognizing that whenever you two went out together.

Trying to get the negative thoughts out of your mind so that he wouldn’t have reason to worry, you cleared your throat. “Uh, yeah I am. I just have to get dressed.” After buttoning his jeans, he looked at you through the mirror and smiled warmly. “Everything okay baby?” He must have noticed the tension in your brow, or the slight downturn of your lips, but you nodded reassuringly. “Yeah of course, I’m just not really feeling my makeup.” You added a chuckle to the end of your sentence, hoping to make him believe that it was just a light hearted confession. He walked over to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I think it looks perfect.” He said softly into your hair, and you forced a smile onto your lips.

You walked over to the clothing rack that Matt had put in his room for you so that you could leave a variety of your clothes at his place for when you stayed over. Scanning your options, you skipped over all of your more bold pieces — knowing your head space was far too vulnerable tonight to mess around with any of them — and decided on your favourite black Skims dress. It had never failed you in the past, and you tried to reassure yourself with this fact as you removed your oversized t-shirt and replaced it with the soft dress.

Your positive attitude was gone just as quickly as it arrived once you began to examine yourself in the mirror. From the front your body looked okay, but as soon as you turned to the side you grimaced at the sight of your bloated stomach from the massive deli sandwich Matt had bought you for lunch earlier. The thin, tight material of the dress did nothing but accentuate the swell in your lower stomach, and you wanted to scream out in frustration. Maybe if your hair and makeup had worked in your favour the bloating wouldn’t have bothered you so much, but because everything that could have possibly gone wrong had gone wrong, it was enough to cause tears to well in your eyes.

As you stood in front of the mirror fighting the tears from spilling over, Matt noticed the sheen in your eyes and your wobbly chin and raced over to you. “Hey hey hey! What’s wrong baby?” He asked, his voice laced with a hint of panic. You shook your head rapidly. “Nothing, it’s nothing. I’m just being stupid.” Your voice was thick with emotion, and it made you even more angry with yourself as you knew this whole thing was stupid. “It’s clearly not nothing if you’re crying, Y/n.” He turned you around so that you were face to face with him; concern evident in his furrowed brow and racing eyes. “Tell me what’s going on sweetheart.” His voice was soft, and he rubbed his hands along your bare arms reassuringly.

You sighed and brought a shaky hand to your eye; trying to dab away any fallen tears in a weak attempt to not ruin your shitty makeup. “It’s stupid Matt.” You wined, not wanting to tell him your insecurities out of fear that speaking of them might make him suddenly see them just as clearly as you did. “Y/n, please.” He begged, desperate to try and help you. Groaning, you finally obliged; your voice barely above a whisper as you confessed. “I just hate everything about the way I look today, that’s all.” Matt stared at you with a blank expression as he took in your words, and you waited in silence — nervous to hear his response.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Y/n.” He sounded almost angry in his response, and it caused you to bite your lip nervously as you shrugged. “Nothing turned out the way I wanted it to when I got ready today, plus you’ve been feeding me too much lately and it’s been making me bloated.” You explained further, and watched as his eyes travelled from your face down to your body. “Baby, you look absolutely beautiful.” He said, and you rolled your eyes. “You have to say that, it’s one of the unwritten rules of being someone’s boyfriend.” A dry laugh escaped your lips, and Matt moved his hand to the back of your head.

“You think I’m lying?” He asked, his tone of voice mildly threatening and absolutely serious. So serious in fact, that the weak smile left your lips and you could do nothing but stare blankly at his face; unsure of how you should answer. He tilted his head quizzically, clearly still waiting for a response. Tentatively, you nodded your head yes as a singular tear fell down your cheek. Matt’s eyes softened. “Oh baby.” He breathed before pressing his lips softly against yours. He wrapped his arms around your waist as he began deepening the kiss — turning it into one filled with passion without losing its gentle nature. Delicately, his tongue skated across your lips; requesting access to your mouth without demanding it. You released a soft whimper from his tender movements as his hands travelled down to your ass; massaging it gently through the thin material of your dress.

“Turn around.” He ordered against your mouth, and you immediately obliged. Now facing the mirror, he stood behind you with his hands planted firmly on your shoulders. Into your ear, he spoke. “You are the most beautiful person that I have ever laid my eyes on, and I need you to know that.” His words — overflowing with emotion — caused goosebumps to cover your skin. Using both of his hands, he grabbed each thin strap of your dress and slowly peeled them off your shoulders. Not stopping there, he used his grip on the straps to pull the dress completely off your body — creating a puddle of dark material at your feet.

“Look at you, Y/n.” His hands moved across your upper body; exploring every square inch of your skin as he held you in front of the mirror. You shuddered from his touch; his hands lighting your body on fire as they glided across it. He grabbed your breasts in both hands, massaging them slowly as he planted a kiss to the top of your shoulder. “You might see flaws when you look at yourself in the mirror, but I don’t. And I never have.” His hands moved down to your hips, squeezing them slightly. “I think I just have to show you what I see, and then maybe you’ll change your mind.”

Dropping one more kiss to your flushed skin, he walked you forward a few steps towards the mirror, before using his hands to guide you to the floor. Knees tucked into your chest, he sat behind you and pulled all of your hair over to one side before leaning in to whisper into your ear. “Open your legs baby.” You gulped before obliging, sliding your legs apart but keeping your knees bent. Your bare chest rose and fell rapidly, beginning to feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation. You titled your head to the side out of embarrassment of having your legs spread in front of the mirror — with only your small pink thong covering you. Noticing this, Matt brought a hand to your jaw, grabbing it firmly and straightening your head back in the direction of the mirror. “You are breathtaking, Y/n. I don’t want you to look away.” As he spoke, he moved his hand from your jaw down to your breast, holding it firmly as his thumb swirled around your sensitive nipple. “Keep your eyes on the mirror.” He whispered before taking his free hand and sliding your panties to the side.

Your eyes planted firmly on your glistening core as he used two fingers to spread it open. You watched as your arousal began leaking from your slit, and your jaw dropped in ecstasy as he collected the fluid on his fingers. His eyes connected to yours in the mirror as he brought his wet fingers up to your lips. Confused, you furrowed your brow. “Even your insides are beautiful. Taste yourself.” He urged, and his words stirred up something within you. Slowly, you opened your mouth and immediately felt his fingers press against your tongue. You wrapped your lips around his middle and ring fingers; sucking your own sweet juices off of them and moaning at the heat of the scenario as his eyes burned into yours through the reflection in the mirror.

“Good girl.” He praised once you released his fingers, before moving them back down to your throbbing core. As soon as his fingers connected with your clit, you released a breathy moan and screwed your eyes shut in relief. “Open your eyes sweetheart, and look at how fucking beautiful you look.” He demanded sweetly into your ear, making it impossible for you to even consider disobeying him. Through your droopy eyelids you watched, mouth agape, as his ringed fingers massaged your bundle of nerves; their circular motions hypnotizing you. You also took a moment to admire your body as it writhed in anticipatory pleasure — your sweat-coated breasts heaving as you gasped for breath. Matt rested his chin on your shoulder — his left hand still caressing your tits — as he watched in awe at your various expressions of pleasure.

“Look at your pretty pink pussy, baby. And look how unbelievably beautiful you look when you bite your lip. God, I could cum in my pants just from watching you feel good.” His words were equal parts sweet and filthy in your ears, and they added to the pleasure you felt building up within you. Suddenly, his left hand moved from your tits down your stomach and towards your core. You watched in awe as he swirled two fingers around your opening teasingly, and practically screamed out once he slammed them into you. Wasting no time, his curled fingers pumped in and out of you rapidly, hitting your spongey g-spot each time.

“F-fuck Matty, feels so good.” You managed to get out through breathless moans. “Mmm.” He purred, “Looks so good too, doesn’t it? Your pretty juices like honey dripping from my fingers. Tell me how pretty it looks.” You whined before obliging. “I-it’s so pretty.” You watched his reflection as he shook his head and smirked. “Good baby, but it’s not just your juices. It’s you that’s so pretty. Say it.” As he waited for your response, he nipped delicately at your neck. “I-I’m s-so pretty.” Your voice was shaky as your mind was overtaken by your impending orgasm that was very quickly approaching. You felt Matt’s lips turn up in a smile against your neck. “That’s right. And just wait till you cum princess, there’s nothing more beautiful than that.” His words caused your walls to flex around his pumping fingers and your stomach tensed from the familiar feeling.

“G-gonna cum baby.” You cried out, tucking your chin into your shoulder and arching your back off of his chest as your orgasm began to roll through your body. Suddenly, Matt pulled his fingers out of your core and grabbed onto your throat, gently straightening your head up once again. “Watch yourself cum, Y/n.” He rasped into your ear and you watched through blurred vision as your fucked out face contorted into one filled with pleasure as your orgasm tore through your body. Still rubbing your clit at full tilt, Matt filled the space between you both with muttered praises; his eyes firmly planted to your face as he almost fell apart himself from the view in front of him.

Once you came down from your high, Matt wrapped both of his arms tightly around you; leaving small kisses on your skin as he waited for you to catch your breath. “I don’t ever want you to have negative thoughts about yourself like that ever again.” He stated as he rubbed your soft skin gently. Still waiting for the fog around your fucked out brain to clear, you could do nothing more than hum in acknowledgment. “I mean it, Y/n. I get that having insecurities is normal, but, when I look at you, I swear to god I can’t see a single flaw.” Your eyes fluttered open and connected with his in the mirror. “You are perfect, Y/n. And I’m not just saying that.” Giving him a small smile, your heart did leaps in your chest at his heartfelt testament. The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, and when you took a moment to look at yourself again in the mirror, you realized that maybe he did have a point.

Even through your makeup, your cheeks were filled with a lively glow that wasn’t there before. Your eyes seemed to glisten in the light, and your lips were swollen and pink. You would have expected your hair to be messed up, but Matt’s hands running through it had actually made it fall exactly they way you had hoped it would when you were styling it. You still struggled with your bloating, but flashbacks of your body squirming sensually under Matt’s touch — and the residual satisfaction of your orgasm a reminder of just how good your body could feel — allowed you to find a new appreciation for it. Feeling a lump form in your throat just as it had when you tried on your black dress — this time for an entirely different reason — you gazed adoringly at Matt. “Thank you baby.” You whispered before turning around and planting a deep kiss to his lips.

“It was my pleasure, sweetheart.” He responded, both of his hands on either side of your face so he could stare at it up close. “You think you’re up for dinner still? Because let me tell you, you’re on a whole other level of sexy when you’re shovelling steak into your mouth.” You erupted into giggles at this, and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’m serious.” He continued, his voice filled with laughter. “You think I have blue balls now, just wait until after dinner. They might explode.” You shoved his shoulders playfully at this, and hoisted yourself up to your feet to find your discarded dress. “You add a lobster to my dinner plate, and I might just be able to help you out with that on our way back.”

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets

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avocado-writing · 1 month

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i neeeed smth silly with wade and his s/o having a stereotypical teenage girls' sleepover- painting their nails, gossiping about boys (logan) and trying to style wade's wack ass wig.

sigh unfortunately i am in love with The Idiot

Honestly? You’re pretty fucking happy.

Wade is incredibly attentive. A goofball, sure, and the kinda guy to take things a little too far sometimes - but he can always tell when there’s something wrong. You’ve been far too stressed. Work has been getting you down, too much pressure with not enough appreciation, and it just feels like you’re being ground into the dirt by someone’s heel. Your usual enthusiasm when you come home has been ablated and you’ve barely been able to give Wade a smile recently.

So tonight, when you walk in with gloom heavy around you, you’re pleasantly surprised when the apartment is lit with candles and your favourite album is playing quietly on the stereo. Wade looks up from where he’s judging between two facemasks.

“Okay, we can go with ‘jasmine tranquillity’ or ‘rose seduction’. I’m feeling ‘rose seduction’, but maybe that’s because sensuality is my middle name. Well, one of my middle names. Wade Winston Sensuality Wilson.”

You put your work bag down and fix him with the smile which can’t help rising over your face.

“What’s all this?”

“I couldn’t have my pookie ending their week on a bum note. I co-opted the place for ourselves tonight.”

“And Logan doesn’t care? Al?”

“Out drinking and at bridge, respectively. I’ll let you guess which one’s where.”

The image of your gruffest housemate sitting across from three retirees while playing cards makes you snort, and Wade knows he’s got you.

Now? Now the facemask is smelling the room with soft perfume and you’re swilling your Merlot around in its glass, watching as Wade holds one of your bare feet in his lap and carefully applies red to your nails. There are curlers in your hair but none in his wig, because god knows you refuse to touch that thing any more than you absolutely have to.

“This wine is nice,” you hum, slightly buzzed from the two glasses you’ve already had.

“It’s not, it was ten dollars, but once you’ve had enough you stop noticing that it tastes like ass,” he replies. Yeah, okay, he’s right. You down the rest of it and lean back against the sofa, watching him work as your vision swims a little.

“You’re really good at this,” you hum. Wade doesn’t tear his eyes away from where he’s applying varnish in neat, diligent strokes.

“I can sever a guy’s spine through his first and second lumbar vertebrae from thirty feet away. I’ve got steady hands, babe.” As easily as if he was commenting on the weather he holds up a small tray of press-on decals. “Now, do you want the little apples or the little cherries?”

You snort, gleeful. “Oh my god Wade, did you get those from Claire’s?”

“Yes I did. I went into Claire’s today because I’m confident in my masculinity and it’s a wonderful, joyous place to be.”

“… did Laura go in with you so you wouldn’t feel weird?”

“Yukio. I’m picking the cherries,” he decides with an air of finality. You cradle your woozy head in your arms and sigh, happily.

“I love you, Wade.”

Finally he looks up, his face melting into a smile.

“Yeah, I love you too. Now do you wanna watch Definitely, Maybe or Bridget Jones tonight?”

“Bridget Jones. You get weird when we watch the other one.”

“Heh, yeah,” he agrees.

Taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13

#mcu x you #mcu x reader #mcu imagines #mcu x y/n #mcu imagine #marvel x you #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel x y/n #deadpool x you #deadpool imagine #deadpool x reader #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson imagine

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xxsunoosprincess · 3 months

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Enhypen and the small things they do

Just a collection of random things i could see enha doing that would make your heart flutter a.k.a how they would show you love

pairing: enhypen x reader (all members! I usually don’t write for ni-ki but I got this idea because of him :3)

warnings: none! completely fluff. gender neutral! reader

Heeseung: Holds your hand all the time. Like all the time. Subconsciously reaches for your hand when you are walking in a crowd together. Falls asleep holding your hand. Works up a MEAN blush when you point this out.

Jay: Shares food with you. If you are out to eat together you guys always order two dishes and eating half of both. If you are at home watching a movie he is alternating between takes bites of snacks and feeding you.

Jake: Always makes time to do your hobby with you. Let’s you paint his nails. Plays your favorite game with you and let’s you win. Will do on walks with you. It doesn’t matter he will always make time to do things you enjoy. Even if he’s really lost, it makes him happy to see you happy.

Sunghoon: bickers with you. NOW STAY WITH ME HERE. I think he has a little charmer personality he uses with fans and the public but once he starts teasing you, or whines to you about how you definitively cheated to beat him in a game, that’s how you know he is locked in. #forliferzzz

Sunoo: Does your hair for you. Sometimes it’s as simple as combing through your hair while you watch tv together, applying treatments with gentle hands. Sometimes it’s watching YouTube tutorials so he can learn how to do certain styles on you. Sees how stressful wash day can be and wants to ease the burden. Sweet baby!!

Jungwon: Brings you trinkets. Everytime he leaves the house he comes home with something for you. Little figurines that reminded him of you. A t-shirt he thought was funny and wants you to put on. A pastry he grabbed an extra of when he was hungry. Always so excited to show you, too :(.

Riki: Texts you updates throughout the day! Jake shared that text exchange of Ni-ki sending him a selfie and wishing him good luck and that made me smile. Does the same for you. Lots of “still practicing this new choreo 😮‍💨”’s and “miss you :p”‘s paired with a casual selfie.

END.

a/n: Just wanted to write a bit of fluff. Whipped this out in like 20 minutes as a warm up :p also my first time writing riki content!! Usually I’m writing smut so he’s not there, and am still getting comfortable doing fluff for him… but the Weverse exchange with him and Jake is what inspired this so I figured I’d give him a shot! - xx princess

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datcravat · 6 months

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HI HELLO I love your art So much,,, do you have any tutorials on how you render your stuff? For example, the colors you use & how you pick them, how you get that pink tone around the Lineart (I think) (it's just rly cool). I would love to see stuff like that, cuz your art is Such visual candy (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Hey! Thank you so much, I'm glad you like my art, I worked hard to make it what it is!! Means a lot you appreciate it!!!!!!

I've had no professional art training, I seriously don't know what I'm doing and struggle making tutorials. But will try here!!

For me the colour work is really situational on the drawing! I find myself experimentally attempting to weaponize colour theory and there's a lot of instinct involved that I can't figure out how to verbalise yet. Here's an example of some thought process I have:

My main advice is to play with sliders a lot and really experiment (that's what I do for every drawing)!

To get the pink glow around your lineart, copy your lineart layer, fill the copy in with a pink of your choice (sometimes I do a gradient), blur the layer (experiment with how much blur you'd like), put it directly below the lineart layer, and set the layer to multiply (or any mode you think looks pretty)!

You may want to adjust your piece's brightness/colours after applying it and sharpen the image after exporting.

A lot of colour gradients are involved and on their own they can eventually compromise the gritty/punchy style, especially the ones that are between extreme and subtle. A good way to combat this is with screentones/haftones!! You can use them to diversify colours and imply shading/texture.

I recommend going nuts and having a lot of fun with it to find what works for you!

I often add a lot of small lens flares as they satisfyingly cut through the piece, imply flash photography (which goes well with the strong black shading), add visual noise to areas you don't want to be your main point of focus, are a great way to show speculars, and idk man sparkles are just pretty haha.

Go nuts with them and have fun!! When you get them to look good, think to yourself why that is.

I made a tutorial ~1 year ago on how I shade with black. This simple trick will really help it look good, 3D and rendered - it just requires a lot of knowledge about shadows to start with. I have a lot of experience rendering "normally" which helped me learn how to use black in an experimental way.

Minor correction that the shadows labelled "ambient occlusion" in the tutorial are actually just normal shadows, ambient occlusion is total lack of light.

I hope this is useful to you!! You have a knack for art, your work is very inspired. Please keep drawing!! I am still learning too, let's keep going baby.

-Cravat x

#ask #tutorial #my art #art tutorial #thank you for the ask!!

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helen-with-an-a · 6 months

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The Object that stood in the way of a World Cup pt. 3

Hi. So here is part 3 (again, this will have another part because I am determined to get it happy at the end; it's just taking me a while to get there ahahah). Big thanks to @lyak12 for helping me work out my issues with the fic <3

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Epilogue

Ona Batlle x Reader

Flashbacks are in italics

TW: Injury, R ain't ok mentally, suggestiveness

Description: R comes home from Australia to start her recovery

Word Count: 3.6k

You had required three surgeries in total to fix everything – an emergency one to save your leg, one to place the screws and realign everything and one to reattach the ligaments in your knee. The damage the tackle had done was extensive; your shin was splintered into 3, some coming through the skin, and the force of the collision ruptured your ACL and meniscus ligament, too. No one dared show you the video, and you weren’t bothered to look it up. Even though you couldn’t remember what happened, you’d have the scars for life. You had asked what the timeline was for when you could get back on the pitch. One doctor had said it was an if not a when. You didn’t like that doctor. It would be a when – football was your lifeline, your escape when times were tough. You didn’t know how you would cope with it. Your physios at Barca had said that when … if … you were back on the pitch, your playing style would have to change. They had told you in broken English that you probably would never play the same and would have to rely on speed and technical ability rather than strength in matches. But that was ok; as long as you were on the pitch, you didn’t care how you had to play, just so long as you could.

You flew back to Barcelona a month after the World Cup. You wanted to be back earlier, but you hadn’t been cleared to fly and definitely hadn’t been cleared to fly halfway across the world. The medical staff in Australia were lovely – sneaking you extra desserts, cheering every milestone, no matter how small, braiding your hair, and helping apply your moisturiser when you were too tired to do it yourself. Your family had only seen you that first day. You didn’t mind – you didn’t particularly like when they were around anyway. It was always too loud with them. The bad kind of loud. The Lionesses were the good kind of loud. They had piled into your room, staying as long as possible. Georgia had left you with her Tamagotchi, making you promise her you’d try to keep it alive. Being suitably distracted by the mountain of sugary sweets piled on your bed by Hempo, much to the horror of Leah and Sarina, you missed the way Lucy eyed you wearily.

You considered Lucy a big sister, especially since moving to Barcelona. She had been concerned about you since you arrived. The happy, bubbly young woman she had come to care for deeply had retreated back into the quiet shell you had been when you first joined the senior squad. At first, she thought you were just nervous – she knew how scary it could be to be in a new city without many friends. But after a while, she knew it was something more sinister. She barely saw you outside of football; you were always making excuses to avoid team bonding or insisting you needed to stay late to work on things. Things you already excelled at. She grasped just how badly something was wrong with the first international camp of the new year. She thought you would return back to your old ways, finally being around your old friends and not having to navigate another language. But that wasn’t the case; if anything, you grew even quieter – especially around Alessia and Ella. That concerned her the most – you were closer than family to those two. They could always be relied on to drag a smile out of you. So, she kept an eye on you. Quietly observing your behaviour.

Whilst you hated that you weren’t back in Barcelona as quickly as you wanted to be, you were glad you didn’t have to see Ona again so quickly. That night was the last time you had seen her. You hadn’t said anything as she took a seat across from you. She hadn’t said anything as you started to drift into an uncomfortable slumber. Only when she was sure you were in a deep sleep did she break her silence.

“Mai podré dir-te com ho sento,” she whispered. “Sempre t'estimaré. Espero que algun dia em permetis estimar-te de la manera que et mereixes.”

“Oni, I can’t speak Catalan, remember? You’re going to have to repeat that in English.” You laughed as she chattered away. It was an off-day and oddly warm in Manchester. You lay with your head in her lap, top tucked up into your bra, exposing as much skin as possible in an effort to soak up the summer sun.

“Sorry, amor. I’m just happy it’s finally warm here. It reminds me of home a little bit.” She carded her fingers through your hair as you snuggled your face into her stomach.

“Tell me about it?” You asked gently. You loved hearing the stories of her home, her childhood, her life back in Spain.

“There’s this little cafetería back home. It sells the best Crema Catalana ever. I don’t know what they do, but, mmmm ... es tan delicioso. It’s even better than my Mamí’s. It’s so pretty too. It’s got this really cool tiled pattern flooring and vines on the wall at the front. During the summer, they open all the doors and play music and …” You could listen to Ona talk all day; the excitement when she mentions her home is unparalleled. You could feel yourself drifting into sleep – the warm weather, her gentle fingers scratching at your scalp, her intoxicating smell that wrapped around you like a soft hug.

“Mmmm,” you hummed happily. "It sounds fantastic. I wish I could visit,” you commented.

“You shall. I’ll take you. You’ll come to see my home, we’ll do all the touristy things in Barcelona, and then I’ll show you all the local spots in Vilassar de Mar, prometo,” She vowed.

“Good. I …” you cut yourself off with a yawn, “I don’t want to see Barcelona without you.” Your eyes fluttered gently.

“You won’t. I won’t let you. You’re stuck with me for life, amor.” You smiled softly at her words. You liked the sound of being with Ona for life. “Ve a dormir, amor. I’ll be here when you wake up.” You nodded and allowed yourself to slip into a gentle dream.

Arriving home, it was easier to avoid Ona than you thought. You were still on strict instructions to rest. Alexia had tried to force you to stay with her. When that failed, Lucy had tried. You liked your space. You liked your private time. You felt like you could never fully relax around people … except for around Ona - that voice in your head reminded you. No! You couldn’t allow that voice to win. You had a recovery to think of now. You had compromised a little bit, though. You lived in the same building as Ingrid and Mapi, so you gave them permission to get a spare key cut. This allowed you to have people constantly checking on you without feeling like a burden on them. Alexia wanted a key for herself, but she lived on the other side of town, and you didn’t like dragging her so far from her usual daily routine.

To be honest, you were unsure if you wanted to see Ona. Alessia had quietly told you that you wouldn’t calm down on the pitch until Ona held you. In the extra month you were in Australia, you had come to terms with the fact you were still in love with her. You had tried to deny it when you initially came to Spain. But now it was just a fact you had to live with. That night in the hospital was so incredibly awkward … strange … nice. She had stood in a training top you were fairly sure was yours once upon a time, head hung low as she picked at her nails. You wanted to bat her hands away, to tell her to stop, but she had sat too far and out of your reach.

“I’m telling you, Y/N, something’s wrong with Ona”, Hayley whispered to you in the bathroom. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but she won’t stop picking at her nails; she’s really quiet. Something’s not right. I think something may have happened during the break.” You sighed deeply. You also think something may have occurred whilst she was in Spain. You had picked her up from Manchester Airport, and you could tell instantly something wasn’t right. 3 of her fingers were wrapped in plasters, and the others looked just as sore. When you extended your arms out to hug her, she looked a little apprehensive but stepped into your embrace anyway. No matter how much you wanted to keep her in your arms, you stepped away after a few short seconds. You had never seen her so tired, so different, so … you weren’t quite sure what had happened. You kissed her forehead gently as you ushered her to the car.

It didn’t take long for you to find Ona – she was sitting in your cubby after all. Despite your concern, your heart couldn’t help but flutter as you recognised your number on the hoodie she was wearing.

“Me gustas en mi ropa,” You said as you crouched in front of her, hands resting gently on her knee. She didn’t smirk like she usually would. She didn’t react when you started tracing gentle shapes on her bare legs. She just kept picking at her nails. “Oni… lo que le pasó?” You asked in the gentlest tone imaginable. She just shook her head, wiping a stray tear away. “No … hey, hey, hey, no. Oni. Mi niña hermosa. Don’t cry.” You surged forward. “Please don’t cry.” You didn’t know how to comfort her. You had seen her angry, you had seen her scared, you had seen her frustrated. But you had never seen her cry before.

You had eventually coaxed her into going home. You had waited until everyone had left—Hayley hurrying people along to let you deal with the situation. The force with which she gripped your hand left a sour taste in your mouth. You had kept your hand in hers the whole journey home and into your flat. You led her to the sofa as you lay down, pulling her on top of you.

“Now …” You started, “I’m not going to make you talk to me. But I can tell something happened when you were in Spain. I want you to tell me, but I’m not going to force you. Whatever you want to share that’s entirely up to you. But please, Oni … I’m not going to judge you, or laugh at you, or hurt you for telling me anything. Un problema compartido es un problema dividido, right?” You whispered as your fingers slipped under her jumper.

It took a while, but eventually, she told you. You held her as she cried over the conditions in the Spanish camp. You held her as she recounted the story of her being forced from her bed at 5 in the morning for a run and not being allowed to stop until she threw up or passed out. You held her as she ranted about how mean the coaching staff were to Pina, and when she had stepped in to intervene, she had it twice as bad. You held her as she eventually slipped into a fitful reprieve from the nightmare she had just returned from.

But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake Ona’s voice from your head telling you, you weren’t could enough for Barca. If she thought that before your injury, what would she think about you now? You were looking at a year off the pitch, at least, let alone having to train in a new style and learn a new way of playing that could have you set back even further. It echoed in your mind before behind, when you looked at yourself in the mirror, when you were with the team as they tried to help you feel better.

Most days looked similar for you in the first month you returned. You were still in a cast and brace, so you couldn’t do much. The doctors - and Alexia - had told you how important it was to establish and stick to a routine. So, you did. You woke up at 8.30 every morning. There was training – you obviously couldn’t go, but since all your friends had that schedule to stick to, so did you. You would go into the bathroom and have a really awkward shower; more often than not, you would flood the bathroom, then get ready for the day. Lucy told you that you needed to change out of your pyjamas every day, so you slipped on loose shorts and a shirt – your ‘day pyjamas’ you had christened. You had breakfast with Ingrid and Mapi before they left for training, and then you sat on the couch. All day. With your mind slowly descending into chaos over everything that had happened. And then you would hear the conversations from outside that told you some of the girls were coming round to see you, and you plastered a smile on your face as you asked them about their day, and they would ask you about yours. On non-training days, you granted yourself a lie-in. Keira and Lucy would come by with pastries from the bakery down the round and fresh fruit for you to snack on. You would sometimes have a Lioness Facetime if everyone’s schedules allowed.

You had yet to go to a match or the training facility, watch a game on TV, or even just play Fifa. But that would come with time; you would have to go eventually because that was where the physios and trainers were. People thought you were reluctant to go because of what had happened. Which you were … a little bit. The main reason that made you nervous about going was Ona. A picture of her on your timeline had sent you into a spiral for a good few hours. You were scared of what seeing her in person would do.

You had seen the picture of her in the Champions League promotion. And she looked so good. You had stared for far too long at her beautiful smile that still took your breath away, her chiselled jawline that you used to pepper kisses across when you cuddled up against her, her veiny arms that had made you feel so safe and loved, her messy bun that you had jokingly begged her to teach you how to do, her freckled cheeks that would sport a soft pink hue every time you complimented her, the dimples you would poke at when she was trying to be angry at you but failing miserably.

“Great game today girls, you played fantastically. And well done to Ona.” You were standing next to her in the post-match huddle, she shyly groaned as her achievements were recognised in front of everyone.

“Mi Oni’s got her name on the score sheet,” You sang out as you walked back down the tunnel, arms wrapping around her waist. “We need to celebrate.” A round of cheers from everyone echoed the sentiment. Just as you were about to separate to go shower, you felt Ona squeeze you gently. “Hm?” You asked, scanning her features for discomfort.

“Could we do something … just us tonight?” As much as she loved the girls, she wanted a night with you. Alone. She looked so adorable as she quietly mumbled her desires to you.

“Absolutely we can,” your smile reassured her. You pressed your hands against her cheeks quickly before turning to head to the showers.

You didn’t even bother with an excuse when you messaged Lessi and Tooney.

Y/N: Sorry not coming tonight - other plans x

Tooney: Rude

Tooney: Do these other plans involve a Spanish defender???

Y/N: Maybe x

Y/N: She wanted to do something just us

Lessi: I want details! x

Y/N: Nothing’s going to happen

Y/N: U know we r just friends

Tooney: And I’m just friends with Joe :p

Y/N: Its just a MOVIE NIGHT x

Lessi: If u say so x

Tooney: stay safe x

Y/N: ffs and I do say so.

Y/N: text me when ur both home pls x

Lessi: Will do x

Your other plans involved very little deviation from your regular nights. She had cooked for you like always, serving up a delicious paella that had you begging her for cooking lessons. Over dinner, you relived her goal from your perspective and forced her to tell you what she was thinking when she sent it into the back of the net.

“Now that you’ve started scoring, you won’t stop. I’m telling you.” She had laughed at your promise. “I’m being serious here. We need to come up with a celebration for you.” She just hummed and kissed the top of your head as she gathered the plates and took them to the sink.

Later, you were lying on the sofa watching a Spanish movie she insisted on, telling you how it was a part of her childhood and she needed to share it with you. You weren’t paying any attention. You were far too distracted by her fingers running up your spine. It was driving you mad in the best way possible. Your ear was pressed against her chest, her heartbeat comforting and peaceful as you burrowed yourself deeper into her.

“Estás bien?” Ona asked, your movements catching her attention.

“Yeah.” You responded. “I’m really proud of you, you know that, right?” You shifted again, this time drawing yourself up to cage her in with your arms. The blush reappeared on her cheeks as you stared intently at her. God, she was so beautiful. “And I’m really happy you came to Manchester. You make everything better.” You told her honestly. She was getting overwhelmed. You could see that as she avoided your gaze. You gently poked the place where a dimple appeared when she smiled. “Oni …” you waited until she looked back at you. “Puedo besarte?” You said as you stared at her lips.

“Sí.” This wasn’t your first kiss, drunk or sober. But this time felt different. You couldn’t explain it. Her soft lips parted as you licked the seam of her mouth.

You continued to make out lazily on the sofa before Ona broke away for some much-needed air. You didn’t care, though. Your lips just moved to her neck – you were careful not to leave any marks, no matter how much you wanted to decorate the pale skin with dark splotches that claimed her as yours. She whimpered and whined underneath you until she was begging for more.

“Por favour. Do something. Anything. Necesito más,” she implored, hands tangling in your hair as you pulled away.

“Relajarse. Let me take care of you.” You sighed into her skin.

You're just a quick fuck. Easy. Nothing more to me. Her wicked words bounced around in your head. God, she had really ruined you. That was the first night you allowed yourself to truly feel everything, every emotion you had suppressed and bottled up for the last 9 months. It was painful. Raw. Terrifying.

At first, you were angry — so, so angry. Pure, unadulterated rage bubbled up and over the top of your carefully constructed walls. You threw a vase. It shattered into pieces like your heart had done all those months ago. It was satisfying, but you wanted more. You needed more. You ripped apart a cushion someone gave you as a housewarming present. You screamed and raged and shouted your emotions.

Then you cried. It started as a few lone drops that quickly became a torrent of unstoppable, hot tears. The sobbing hurt. It was painful and gut-wrenching. You had never cried like this before, and that scared you. These were the tears of someone heartbroken, and desperate. You cried so hard you thought you were about to throw up.

When you came to your senses, you were standing in the middle of the living room – how you got there was beyond you – feathers lightly floating around you, the wall had a slight dent, and someone was knocking frantically on your door. You didn’t move. If it was Ingrid or Mapi, they had a key. If it was Lucy or Alexia, they knew where to find the spare set. If it was anyone else, you didn’t want to see them.

Strong yet gentle arms pulled you to a warm body. The scent that engulfed you was soft and sweet. Alexia.

“Está bien, cariño. Let’s get you to bed, sí?” She was too gentle. Alexia didn’t do this kind of comfort. She offered practical solutions, honesty, and tough love.

“I… I’m scared,” You admitted as she helped you twist into bed.

“I know recovery can be scary, pequeña, but you will do it. It will be hard. But you can do it. Te lo prometo, puedes hacerlo. Everyone is going to help you. You can lean on us. We're here for you, bebita.” She was misunderstanding what you were referencing. You weren’t scared of recovery. You were physically healing well. A physio had been sent to your house from Barcelona to assess you at home to see whether you could start your rehabilitation at the club. She had asked you questions, and you had given the right answers. Your scars were healing well, and you had the expected range of motion for your injuries. Physically, you were right on track.

You were scared of your own mind. In the month you had been home alone, you had thought hard about anything. Ona had really broken you, yet you couldn’t let her go. What did that say about you? You had always thought you were stronger than that. You used to never understand what it was like when people would go back to an ex-partner who had broken their heart. Ona was never even officially yours, and she had managed to do so much damage.

This is becoming a lot more intense than I had planned ahahah. Hopefully, the next part will be out soon.

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso soccer #barca femeni x reader #barca femeni #fc barcelona #manchester united #man utd #man utd women #alexia putellas #lionesses #lionesses x reader #woso fanfics

276 notes · View notes

sayitdido · 1 year

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♡♡bf!txt and things you can do for them♡♡

synopsis: small or big things/gestures to show your love for them or things they would love in their partner and their reaction based on my observations and astrology /seperate

genre: pure fluff and nothing else i swear

wanings: delulu headcanons, might come across cringe to some, is fluff a warning? imo it is! fight me about it if you want, kissing?

i love my tubatu boys so much, i want to cry~

let him what he needs to do show love

i think yeonjun would get very upset if you were to say stuff like how overwhelmed you are with his gifts since you can't do the same for him or judge him for wanting to show pda

so he is most likely to settle for bare minimum in this case. he has high standarts in everything else but this one in particular restricts him and his love for you. so just let him love you however he wants~

listen to his advices

he no means to control you but let's just say you made changes in your style just because yeonjun suggested you to do that particular thing, he would be so happy. this may include lots of variations of advice but like i said not in a controlling way.

wear matching clothes/accessories with him

not cringe ones like "his/hers" or "look at my bf/gf" but like waering the same necklace he bought for you or same themed clothes that do not necessarily scream couple clothes.

tumbling down his walls

i don't think yeonjun likes showing weakness. i have similar placements with him, i would know. so when you be the person he can truly feel comfortable around to show his real self, he is considering you love of his life.

encourage him in what he does

although this may apply to everything he is passionate about, his job in particular is where he needs you to be hyping him up. call him "4th gen it boy" or compliment his lyricism and him being all rounder. yeah almost everyone does that but he also needs you to do that, too.

let him take care of you

soobin has this great parental energy that traditionally falls under father figure roles. what i mean is for example if you have a problem you are facing, just let him be the one who helps you solve it. i am not saying he wants to be your savior but he cares so much and this is his way of showing.

cook/bake together

soobin likes to cook/bake even though he is not the best at it. he tries. but he loves to cook/bake with you. especially if you are excellent cook. he feels like this is your love project together and also a fun activity on top of it. what's not the like?

be his equal

i don't think soobin would enjoy an obvious power imbalance in a relationship. of course there is some places he is better or worse than you but they balance each other out. and i mean this also in a way that no one in the relationship should hold the power, it would make him so uncomfortable.

get along with his friens

he is the introvert that has lots of friends for an unexplained and mysterious reason but he loves them and you so you getting along with them genuinely makes him happy. just like the one of the biggest hit there is: spice girls - wannabe. lyrics are just so soobin.

enjoy the things he enjoys

you get a joke he made and laugh at it, he is happy. you like the date idea he suggested and excited to do it, he is happy. you watch him play video games with his friends, he is happy.

basically he is happy to be understood and seen. many more examples can be given

not be boring

always stimulate his brain. play hard to get. (not too much tho) be cool in general. get his jokes. at least try to enjoy things he loves.

may seem a lot but he doesn't like the idea of being bored in general. (this i can relate) but it heavily influences his love life the most.

listen to his worries

beomgyu is also a human being. he needs nurtiring just like everyone else. no matter how small the problem is, show that you care. and also beomgyu deserves it. most people deserve this but beomgyu deserves it more than the rest.

be his star crossed lover

he wants to believe that it is more than his and your choice. he wants to believe that some powerful being or universe wants you to be together. call it soulmates, call it twinflame. doesn't matter. just be his true love.

validate him

he doesn't nor necessarily seek for validation from others,he does but not in the unhealthy way, but his s/o is a different story. so when you are proud of him, he is proud of himself. don't make him feel untalented or stupid or useless or someone who is trying or some- one who is not really nice.

open up to him

he feels uneasy with someone who doesn't share. it feels like you don't trust him. he talks about his problems, right? so why don't you. like i genuinely think he wants you to trauma dump. he wants to learn why you are the way you are.

be different

he doesn't want to commit to someone who is just like everyone else you can find on the street. maybe it is your style, maybe it is your personality, maybe it is your taste, maybe it is your dislike of pop culture... but don't be a poser and don't make this all of your personality.

take care of him when he is sick

idk why but i think tyun would show his vulnerability to his s/o but would also make sure that he has borders. but it changes when he is sick. he is a baby, okay? so take care of him!!!!!! (he lowkey likes the motherly/parental vibe you are giving, too)

let him take control

i am talking about your relationship. he likes independent people who take care of themselves but he would prefer leading the relationship. not in the toxic way i swear, he asks for your opinion of course.

kiss him a lot

some of you guys may know my taehyun the expert french kisser theory... and if you don't, here it is again. he is a expert french kisser. loves kissing so much. doesn't need to be mouth to mouth action. just kiss him or let him kiss you.

work out with him

i know some people make working out tyun's whole personality but i mean this in a way that be a part of his routine and also take care of yourself. two birds one stone, you know. he likes this activity so even you watching him do it is enough sometimes.

get along with his members and family

we all know hyuka doesn't let anyone to be in his life. he has his members and family. so if you are blessed enough to be in it, you should get along with them. he also values family so much. he seems to have very healthy relationships with his family and members so it is unavoidable that he wants his s/o to be part of it.

be a geek with him

i don't think hyuka is geek btw but he would love it when you play mario kart with him or watch batman the animated series with him. you know traditionally geeky stuff. also make commentary and jokes while engaging with the media. and react his commentary and jokes, too.

be nostalgic with him

this is why i think he would want someone his age or close to his age or older than him since they can experience his childhood memerioes. kinda related to the one above but if you enjoy the things he enjoyed when he was younger, that would make him happy.

cook for him

he would really appreciate this one. may want to help but the thoughtfulness of you makes his heart flutter. definitely loves your cooking even if you are not the best. also he may want to try different foods so when you cook something he wanted to try, he is in love. the experience is definitely better than a fancy restaurant.

beautify yourself

i am not saying fit in the beauty standart. i am saying be fashionable and confident. like if he likes your aesthetic, you are beautiful to him. so try to have your own style and aesthetic. if you put an effort, he would also put an effort. he likes to adorn himself for his s/o and expects you to do same.

a/n: i had this on my notes for so long. i am just glad that i finally got to share. i also tried to do moodboards. though i think i failed a little, it was fun to do it.

443 notes · View notes

physalian · 9 months

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Humanizing Your Characters (And Why You Should)

To humanize a character is not to contort an irredeemable villain into the warped funhouse mirror reflection of a hero in the last 30 seconds to gain “narrative subversion” points. To humanize is not to give said villain a tragic backstory that validates every bad choice they make in attempt to provide nuance where it does not deserve to be.

To humanize a character, villain or otherwise, is to make them flawed. Scuff them up, give them narrative birthmarks and scars and imperfections. Whether it’s your hero, their love interest, the comic relief, the mentor, the villain, the rival, these little narrative details serve to make all your literary babies better.

Why should you humanize your characters?

To do this means to write in details beyond those that service the plot, or the themes, or the motifs, morals, foreshadowing, or story. These might be (and usually are) entirely unimportant in the grand scheme of things. So, if I wrote lengthy diatribes on pacing and why every detail must matter, and character descriptions and thematic importance, why am I now suggesting go free-for-all on the fluff?

Just like real people have quirks and tics and beliefs and pet peeves that serve our no greater purpose, so should fictional people. Your average reader doesn’t have the foggiest idea what literary devices are beyond metaphor, simile foreshadowing, and anecdote, but they can tell when the author is using motif and theme and all the syntactical marvels because it reads that much richer, even if they can’t pinpoint why.

And, for shipping fodder, these tiny little details are what help your audience fall in love with the character. It doesn’t even have to be in a book – Taylor Swift (whether you like her or not) never fills her music with sexual innuendo or going clubbing. She tells stories filled with human details like dancing in the refrigerator light. People can simultaneously relate to these very specific and vivid experiences, and say “not that exactly, but man this reminds me of…” and that’s (part of) the reason her music is so popular.

What kinds of narratives need these details?

All of them. Visual media, audio, written, stage play. Now, to what degree and excess you apply these details depends on your tone, intended audience, and writing style. If your style of writing is introspection heavy, noir character drama, you might go pretty heavy on the character design.

But even if you’re writing a kids book with a scant few paragraphs of setting descriptors and internal narration, or you’re drawing a comic book – if you have characters you want people to care about, do this.

Animators, particularly, are very adept at humanizing non-human characters, because, unlike live acting, every single stroke of the pen is there with intent. They use their own reflections for facial references, record their own movements to draw a dance, and insert little bits of themselves into signature character poses so you know that *that* animator did this one.

How to humanize your characters.

I’m going to break this down into a couple sections: Costume/wardrobe, personality, beliefs/behavior/superstitions, haptics/proxemics/kinesics, and voice. They will all overlap and the sheer variety and possibilities are way too broad for me to capture every facet.

Costumes and Wardrobe

In the film Fellowship of the Ring, there’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment where, after Boromir is slain by the Uruk-Hai, Aragorn takes Boromir’s Gondorian vambraces to wear in his honor, and in honor of their shared country. He wears them the rest of the trilogy. The editing pays no extra attention to them beyond a split second of Aragorn tightening the straps, it never lingers on them, never reminds you that they’re there, but they kept it in nonetheless. His actor also included a hunting bow that didn't exist in the book because he's a roamer, a ranger, and needs to be able to feed himself, along with a couple other survival tools.

Aragorn wears plenty of other symbolic bits of costume – the light of the Evenstar we see constantly from Arwen, the Lothlorien green cloaks shared by the entire Fellowship, his re-forged sword and eventual full Gondorian regalia, but all those are Epic Movie Moments that serve a thematic purpose.

Taking the vambraces is just a small, otherwise insignificant character moment, a choice made for no other reason than that’s what this character would do. That’s what makes him human, not an archetype.

When you’re writing these details and can’t rely on sneaking them into films, you have to work a little harder to remind your audience that they exist, but not too often. A detail shifts from “human” to “plot point” when it starts to serve a purpose to the themes and story.

Inconsequentiality might be how a character ties, or doesn’t tie their shoelaces, because they just can’t be bothered so they remain permanent knots and tripping hazards. It might be a throw-away line about how they refuse to wear shorts and strictly stick to long pants because they don’t like showing off their legs. It might be perpetually greasy hair from constantly running their fingers through it with stress, or self-soothing. A necklace they fidget with, or a ring, a belt they never bother to replace even though they should, a pair of lucky socks.

Resist the urge to make it more meaningful than “this is just how they are”. If I’m using the untied shoelaces example – in Spiderverse, this became a part of the story’s themes, motifs, and foreshadowing, and doesn’t count. Which isn’t bad! It’s just not what I’m talking about.

Personality

In How to Train Your Dragon, Toothless does not speak. All his personality comes from how he moves, the noises he makes, and the expressions on his face. There’s moments, like in the finale, when his prosthetic has burned off and Hiccup tells him to hold on for a little bit longer, and you can clearly see on his face that he’s deeply uncertain about his ability to do so. It’s almost off the screen, another blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment. Or the beat of hesitation before he lets Hiccup touch him in the Forbidden Friendship scene. Or the irritated noise he makes when he’s impatiently waiting for Hiccup to stop chatting with his dad because they have a giant dragon to murder. Or when he slaps Hiccup with his ear fin for flying them into a rock spire.

None of those details *needed* to exist to endear you to his character or to serve the scenes they’re in. The scenes would carry on just fine without them. He’s a fictional dragon, yes, but these details make him real.

Other personality tics you could include might be a character who gets frustrated with tedious things very quickly and starts making little inteligible curses under their breath. Or how they giggle when they’re excited and start bouncing on their toes. Maybe they have a tic where they snap their fingers when they’re concentrating, trying to will an idea into existence. Or they stick their tongue out while they work and get embarrassed when another character calls them on it. They roll around in their sleep, steal blankets, drool, leave dishes in the sink or are neurotic with how things must be organized. They have one CD in their car, and actually use that CD player instead of the phone jack or Bluetooth. They sing in the shower, while they cook, or while they do homework, no matter how grating their voice.

They like the smell of new shoes or Sharpies. They hate the texture of suede or velvet or sticky residues. They never pick their socks up. They hate the overhead light in their room and use 50 lamps instead. They hate turning into oncoming traffic or don’t trust their backup camera. They collect Funko Pops and insist there’s always room for more.

And about a million others.

Beliefs, Behaviors, and Superstitions

*If you happen to be writing a story where superstitions have merit, maybe skip this one.* Usually, inevitably, these evolve into character centerpieces and I can’t actually think of one off the top of my head that doesn’t become this beyond the ones we all know. A few comedic examples do come to mind:

The Magic Conch in “Club Spongebob” and the sea-bear-proof dirt circle in “The Camping Episode”

Dean Winchester’s fear and panic-driven actions in “Yellow Fever” and “Sam, Interrupted”

The references to the trolls that steal left-foot socks in How to Train Your Dragon

I’m not a fan of wasting time writing a religious character doing their religious thing when Plot Is Happening, but smaller things are what I’m talking about. Like them wearing a cross/rosary and touching it when they’re nervous. Having a specific off-beat prayer, saying, or expression because they don’t believe in cursing.

The classic ones like black cats, ladders, broken mirrors, salt, sidewalk cracks can all be funny. Athletes have plenty, too, and some of them, particularly in baseball culture, are a bit ridiculous. Not washing socks or uniforms, having a team idol they donate Double Bubble to and also rub their toes. A specific workout routine, diet, team morale dance.

Other things, too. A character who’s afraid to go back downstairs once the lights are off, or fear the basement or the backyard shed. Or they’re really put-off by this old family photo for no reason other than how glassy their eyes look and it’s creepy. They like crystals, dreamcatchers, star signs, tarot, or they absolutely do not under any circumstances.

They believe in all the tried and true ways of predicting the weather like a grizzled old sailor. They believe in ghosts, vampires, werewolves, witches, skinwalkers, doppelgangers, fairies. They talk to the cat statue in their kitchen and named it Fudge Pop. They whisper to the spirit that possessed the fridge so it stops making all that racket, and half the time, it works every time. They wear yellow for good luck or carry a rabbit’s foot. They’re not religious at all but still throw prayers out to whoever’s listening because, you know, just in case. They sit by their window sill and talk to the moon and the stars and pretend like they’re in a music video when they’re driving through the city in the rain.

Haptics, Proxemics, and Kinesics

These are, for all you non-communication and psych majors out there, touch and physical contact, how they move, and how they move around other people.

Behold, your shipping fodder.

Two shining examples of proxemics in action are the famous “close talker” episode of Seinfeld (of which every communication major has been subjected to) and Castiel’s not understanding of personal space (and human chronemic habits) in Supernatural.

These are how a character walks, if they’re flat-footed, clumsy, or tip-toers. If they make a racket or constantly spook the other characters. If they fidget or can’t sit still in a seat for five seconds, if they like to sit backwards or upside down. How they touch themselves, if they do a lot of self-soothing maneuvers (hugging themselves, rubbing their arms, touching their face, drawing their knees up, holding their neck, etc) or if they don’t do any self-soothing at all.

This is how they shake hands, if they dance while they cook or work. It’s how much space they let themselves take up, if they man-spread or keep their limbs in closer. How close they stand to others or how far. If they let themselves be touched at all, or if they always have their skin covered. If they always have their back to a wall, or are always making sure they know where the nearest exit is. If they make grand gestures when they talk and give directions. If they flinch from pats on the back or raised hands. If they lean away from loud voices or project their own. If they use their height to their advantage when arguing, puff their chest, square their shoulders, put their hands on their hips, or point fingers in accusation.

If they touch other characters as they pass by. If they’re huggers or victims of falling asleep on or near their comrades. If they must sleep facing the door, or with something solid behind them. If they can sleep in the middle of a party wholly uncaring. If they sleepwalk, sleeptalk, migrate across the bed to cuddle whoever’s nearest with no idea they’re doing it.

If they like to be held or like to hold others. If they hate being picked up and slung around or are touch-starved for it. If they like their space and stick to it or are more than happy to share.

Do they walk with grace, head held high and back straight? Or are they hunched over, head hung, watching their feet? Are they meanderers or speed-walkers? Do they cross their arms in front or lace their hands behind them? Do they bow to authority or meet that gaze head on?

I have heard that Prince Zuko, in Last Airbender, is usually drawn sleeping with his bad ear down when he doesn’t feel safe, like on his warship or anywhere in the Fire Nation, or on the road. He’s drawn on his other side once he joins the Gaang. In Dead Man’s Chest, just before Davy Jones drives the Flying Dutchman under the waves, two tentacles curl up and around the brim of his hat to keep it from blowing off in the water.

When they fight, do they attack first, or defend first? Do they touch other characters’ hair? Share makeup, share clothes? Touch their faces with boops or bonks or nuzzles and eskimo kisses? Do they crack their knuckles and necks and knees?

Do they stare in baffled curiosity at all the other characters wholly comfortable in each other's spaces because they can’t, won’t, or don’t see the point in all this nonsense? Do they say they’re happy on the outside, but are betrayed by their body language?

Voice

Whether or not to write an accent is entirely up to you. Books like Their Eyes Were Watching God writes dialogue in a vernacular specific to its characters. Westerners and southerners tend to be written with the southern drawl or dialect, ripe with stereotypical contractions. Be advised, however, that in attempt to write an accent to give your character depth, you could be instead turning off your audience who doesn’t have energy to decipher what they’re saying, or you went and wrote a racist stereotype.

Voice isn’t just accent and dialect, nor is it how it sounds, which falls more solidly under useful character descriptions. Voice for the sake of humanizing your characters concerns how they talk, how they convey their thoughts, and how they become distinct from other characters in dialogue and narration.

If you’re writing a narrative that hops heads and don’t want to include a big banner to indicate who’s talking at any given time, this is where voice matters. It is, I think, the least appreciated of all the possible traits to pay attention to.

First person narrators have the most flexibility here because the audience is zero degrees removed from their first-hand experiences. Their personality comes through sharply in how they describe things and what they pay attention to.

But it’s also in what similes and metaphors they use. I read a book that had an average (allegedly straight) male narrator going off and describing colors with types of flowers, some I had to look up because I just don’t know those off the top of my head. My immediate thought was either this character is a poorly written gay, or he’s a florist. Neither (allegedly), the writer was just being too specific.

Do they have crutch words they use? like, um, actually, so…, uh

Or repeat exclamations specific to them? yikes, yowzers, jeepers, jinkies, zoinks, balls, beans, d’oh!

Or idioms they’re fond of? Like a bat out of hell. Snowball’s chance.

Do they stutter when they’re nervous? Do they lose their train of thought and bounce around, losing other characters in the process? Do they have a non-Christian god they pray to and say something other than “thank God”? Are they from another country, culture, time period, realm, or planet with their own gods, beliefs, and idioms?

When they describe settings, how flowery is the language? Would this grizzled war hero use flowery language? How would he or she describe the color pink, versus a PTA mom? Do they use only a generic “blue, green, red” or do they really pay attention with “aquamarine, teal, emerald, viridian, vermillion, rose, ruby”?

How do this character’s hobbies affect how well they can describe dance moves, painting styles, car models, music genres?

This mostly matters when you’re head-hopping and the voice of the narrator serves to be more distinct, otherwise, what’s the point of head-hopping? Just use third-person omniscient.

If you really want to go wild, give a specific narrator unique syntax. Maybe one character is the ghost of Oscar Wild with never-ending run-on sentences. Just be sure to not go too overboard and compromise the integrity of your story.

In the book A Lesson Before Dying, a somewhat illiterate, underprivileged and undereducated minor has been given a mentor, a teacher, before they face the death penalty. At the end of the book, you read all of the letters they wrote to their teacher. There’s misspellings everywhere, almost no punctuation, and long, rambling sentences.

It’s heartbreaking. The subject matter is heavy and horrible, yes, but it’s the choice to write with such poor English that has a much bigger impact than perfect MLA format.

How to implement these details

Most of these, in the written medium, need only show up once or twice before your audience notices and wonders why they’re there. Most fall squarely under character design, which falls under exposition, and should follow all the exposition guidelines.

These details exist to be random and fluffy, but they can’t exist randomly within the narrative. If you want to have your character be superstitious, pick a relevant time to include that superstition.

Others, like ongoing speech habits or movements, still don’t overuse, especially if they’re unique. A character might like to sit backwards in a chair, but if you mention that they’re doing it every single time they sit down, your audience will wonder what’s so important and if the character is unwell.

And, of course, you can let these traits become thematically important, like a superstition being central to their personality or backstory or motivation. These all serve the same purpose of making your character feel like a real person instead of just a “character”.

Just think about tossing in a few random details every now and then and see what happens. One tiny sentence can take a background character and make them candidates for the eventual fandom’s fan favorite. Details like these turn your work from “This a story, and these are the characters who tell it” into “these are my characters, and this is their story.”

#writing advice #character design #writing tips #writing resources #exposition #writing tools #writing a book

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2knightt · 7 months

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5 things dallas winston hated about you.

—even when you were on his last goddamn nerve, you were still everything to him. is he still everything to you? after all he’s put you through?

-> in no way is this me changing my style nor should this be taken seriously…i’m just bored. and sad. and bored. and i miss my boyfriend. posted on queue!! i’m probably either studying, working on asks + event, or sleeping. either one.

(I.your snarky remarks.)

“did nobody ever teach you how to properly play uno of all games?”

you asked, a chuckle in your voice as you held your one card in hand. dallas glared at you from across your table, holding 12 cards. this was the 5th game you two played. he was never one to accept defeat easily.

“this game is just fuckin’ stupid. n’ you’re a dirty lil’ cheater.” he grumbled, staring down at his all red cards, eyes shifting back to the green 3 that you had placed down. dallas wanted to say more not-so-nice words, but knowing you fully, you’d say something even worse back. he hated that about you. you always said that it was apart of your charm, he always disagreed.

“why would i ever need to cheat when you can’t seem to count?” you snapped back, brows furrowed. you referenced the fact that dallas tried to pick up only 4 when he had to pick up 6, thinking he was slick.

dallas just huffed, picking up another card from the pile before mumbling a small, ‘go.’ there was a tug at the corners of your mouth, causing you to grin a little too hard as you placed down the winning card. for the 5th time in a row. dallas threw his cards down, clicking his tongue in annoyance. he leaned back into the chair, his head turned away from you as his arms hung off the chair.

“stop bein’ a baby and help me clean this up.”

“no. it’s your house.”

“and you’re the one who’s bumming around in it. clean up with me before i let you walk those streets. again.”

(II.how important your looks were to you.)

you stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, fingers running through your hair as you starred at yourself in the window of a convenience store.

“are you serious, y/n?” he asked, pockets in hand. he stopped walking when you did. he said it was so nobody hit on you. in reality, he liked it better when he had his eyes on you 24/7. he likes knowing you were safe. even for a second.

“yes, dallas. i am.” you replied with an eye roll. you grabbed your pink lip gloss, re-applying it for the 4th time today. sure, you were willing to admit it slowed you down—your focus on your looks. but were you gonna change? no! if someone doesn’t like it, who cares?

once you were done, you continued walking, leaving dallas to rush to catch up. he walked beside you after speed walking behind you for a few seconds. your lips shined under the hot tulsa sun, eyes glowing along with them. dally couldn’t help but wrap an arm around your waist.

he grew more and more aware of the men around. he held you closer, even when they paid no mind to neither you or him. he felt almost threatened for a moment.

“are you even listening?”

you chimed in, breaking his train of thought. dallas nodded, head empty. he didn’t hear a single thing you said. was he going to admit it? no. he didn’t want these other guys to know about how terrible of a boyfriend he was.

you just hummed, walking to your house in silence. any insults, compliments, comments, or cries would fall to deaf ears as of now.

(III.how you were blindly loyal.)

“i cannot believe you right now.”

“i jus’ said she was pretty. god forbid.”

he muttered as he entered your car, sitting in the passenger seat. dallas knew it’d be a terrible idea to try and make you jealous. boundaries, you’d shout. boundaries!

“i’ve told you how many times on how uncomfortable that makes me.”

“m’sorry, doll. i…i know. it was the alcohol.”

dallas lied right through his teeth. in all honesty—he’d been hoping it’d make you want to show him off. he was stupid for ever thinking you’d so something like that.

your silence scared him. you usually would’ve spat something back at him without a single thought. a sigh left your lips as you started the car, finally speaking up.

“i know.”

you muttered quietly. goddamn, maybe loyalty was gonna be the death of you. he didn’t mind much, though. at least you knew where home was. with him…right? right, y/n? he wanted to ask over and over again. dallas wanted the reassurance. he needed the support.

for what? he didn’t know. he just wanted to make sure you still felt the same way he does.

(IV.the way you fought.)

“she got you good, y/n.”

“oh, shut up, dal.”

you muttered, washing your bloodied and bruised hands under the faucet. you stood there, spacing out, letting the water run off your hands. dallas tapped you on your shoulder, snapping you out of it.

he handed you a clean shirt, a couple of bandaids in the other. you ushered him out of your bathroom, closing the door to put the clean shirt on. ‘she got you good.’ what does that even mean? was there seriously no, ‘are you okay?’ you wondered to yourself as you opened the door.

dallas sat you down on the toilet, brushing the fresh blood that slowly streamed down your cheeks with his thumb as he placed bandaids all over your face. he kissed every single one after doing so.

he wanted to make sure you still knew he likes you. that dallas winston liked you a whole lot.

“you’ll be alright, doll.” he comforted, patting your head. he thought back to your several other fights. you fought strategically and with honour. something he’d never do. but, recently, you’d been fighting just for the fun of it.

when you fought before—he felt a little angry. he didn’t like seeing you fight, but he didn’t like knowing you were good at it. knowing you were at the same level as he was at something he took pride in hurt him. dallas was frustrated at you and himself.

maybe his bad habits were rubbing off on you. a way to remember him, as dallas thought about it. he said he’d talk to you later about it. he never did.

(V.how quickly you were able to move on. faster than he ever could.)

you realized you needed better. dallas didn’t treat you like he used to. why? you didn’t know. you tried to be the best girlfriend he’d ever have, so why did he have to ruin it? was it your fault?

you kept on asking yourself questions like this when the reality of it all sunk in. that same day, you left dallas winston.

he felt his world crumble before him. this whole, self-sabotaging thing that pony warned him about was catching up to him. dallas felt hatred for you. well, at least he wanted to. he wanted to feel angry. hatred for you.

he couldn’t no matter how hard he tried. even when he watched you move onto another guy. from afar, he’d see you giggle and flirt with him. like how you used to do with him.

even when you’re with someone else, you’re still everything ti dallas. would you ever forgive him if he said sorry? would sorry even fix the way he treated you?

#2knightt #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston x reader #this whole thing is just dallas being toxic #and just like disliking how reader is catching on #bibically accurate dallas winston technically #emotionally mature reader methinks #would modern day dallas listen to alpha male podcasts #this fic is technically me shitposting #i hate this so much #but idgaf #me coded dallas winston #queue posting my love #sleeping rn #was so not proofread #ifnore any mostakes

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depressedraisin · 8 months

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notes on "mr. snarl"

hello, hello, hello welcome to the mr. snarl is high camp discourse. i've been readin' and thinkin' and drivin' myself nuts over this, so i'll be blabberin' on for a good minute. bear with me.

before we dive into any discussion of camp, we ofcourse need to understand what camp is in the first place. camp as an idea is nearly impossible to neatly put down in a few words or a sentence. it has no definition as of such. camp is loud. camp is ostentatious. camp is exaggerated. camp is 'too much'. camp is gay. camp is ironic. camp is cheeky. drag is camp. marlene dietrich is camp. baroque art is camp. cher is camp. mommie dearest (1981) is camp. the rocky horror picture show (1975) is camp. dostoevsky is camp.

the girlies who get camp get it, those who don't, don't.

however we do have susan sontag's 1964 seminal essay 'notes on "camp"' from where most of our contemporary ideas and understanding of 'camp' comes from. in her essay, sontag noted 58 points on what camp is or might be. for our purposes in this post, we'll go by those. because it is the camp bible of course. and i am a pretentious bitch.

now before we get to the meat of the matter, a quick detour to discuss the many faces of alex turner.

alex's personas have now come to as closely associated to his image as an artist and public figure as blonde wigs are with dolly parton, i suppose. it even has its own section in alex's wiki page. he is one those performers to whom the "eras" concept can truly and perfectly apply. he is a different man on stage with every new album, each 'era' is unique from the other and distinctly defined. a new 'era' for alex is not only a change of a haircut or a new pallette, it is a total revamping of his mannerisms and performance style and public image. be it mr. schwarz (the car era), mark (tbhc era) or oliver tate sr. (early sias era), each one of his personas is another way in which he represents the themes of that album. understanding a persona is integral to understanding the album.

and alex admits to as such. each Performer is a fractured reflection of his own self, and of the album.

but. but. i do not think that he has always made use of the Performer, or atleast, tried to make perceivable distinctions between them. in the first three-four years of his career- during WPSIATWIN and FWN, he presented as just Some Guy. just another normal bloke from sheffield. which, you could argue, was the persona that fit the context of those albums, but i would say that he was probably not putting that much thought into it at the time. it isn't until TAOTU that we see alex using his on-stage fashion to project a certain kind of image that ties in with the music he's playing. (do i think it's miles' handiwork? yes.). the lil suits and ties and beatles-mop cuts, y'know.

the first distinct Performer appears during the Humbug era. the soft-spoken, brooding, fawn-mannered poet who is probably hiding a bagful of secrets and hang-ups behind those layers of brown curls- let's call her him aly. then we have the bright-eyed, puppy-smiled, deep-voiced loverboy of the early SIAS era. i propose to call him oliver tate sr. (after the guy from submarine (2010) obviously). then mr. snarl- we'll get to him later. the loud and theatrical and slutty and deliciously gay EYCTE era persona. then the melancholic space poet mark of TBH&C and finally the suave auteur of The Car- mr. schwarz.

mr. snarl is the one who has garnered the most fascination and endured the most in popular imagination. dare i say, AM-era alex turner is a lowkey late 2010s pop culture icon. it is very easy to understand why- the quiff, the leather jackets, the perpetual sunglasses, the biker boots, the LA drawl tinging his sheffield accent, the devil-may-care wantoness. the girlies on tiktok and pinterest aren't obsessed with him for nothing.

so, what makes mr. snarl camp? what am i yapping on about?

let's get back to sontag.

camp is artificial. camp is ironic. mr. snarl is too. he is a character. he is a mask. *cue the bourne identity and body paint*. 'artificial' does not imply fake or dishonest. we should be careful not to be quick in putting any value judgement onto this artificiality- the aritifice is a quality of camp. you can't appreciate camp, if you snigger at the artificial.

2. camp is character. mr. snarl is a character if there ever was one. extremely defined, visually and behaviourally- you see a performance and can immediately recognise the moment mr. snarl is peeking through. he is also very intensely one thing- very intensely masculine, very intensely rockabilly, very intensely rock god. he is 'instant character' as sontag puts it, which is why perhaps he so immediately and so firmly gripped our collective imagination.

3. camp is exaggerated. camp is style. do i even need to elaborate on this? Ben Beaumont-Thomas of The Guardian said it much better than i could- alex ironically "played with the role" of being a rockstar but simultaneously "can't help but be a real rock star." so, to put it in sontagian terms, he is not a rockstar but a "rock star"

the 2014 brit awards speech is the peak of this ironic, exaggerated performance i think. (i'm still waiting for someone to do a drag performance based on it).

4. but to me, what makes mr. snarl camp is his performance of gender. now let's get one thing clear- camp is not effeminate or queer behaviour. it is the "spirit of extravagance", so any kind of extravagant and ironic presentation of gender can be under the purview of camp.

this performance of gender is not the david bowie or marc bolan or brian molko kind, no. this performance of gender is much subtle, much more nuanced- he wasn't playing around with rigid definitions of gender or crossing gender lines. he wasn't trying to say something with it necessarily. i doubt even, if it was a purposeful thing that he was thinking of back then.

but mr. snarl is a performance of gender. it is a performance of masculinity. and the thing that makes it so very interesting is that it was a cis, straight man doing it.

[if y'all are interested, another interesting example is dolly parton + her persona + her performance of exaggerated femininity. for more on that i'll point you towards be kind rewind's video essay on her.]

mr. snarl was an image of a very certain kind of masculinity. 1950s, elvis presley, rockabilly, greasers, james dean- these are some of the pop culture touchstones that come to mind when we think of mr. snarl. he is also decidedly american. a "fictional character from america" as alex later put it. was this whole persona thing an effort to conquer america then? perhaps...but eh. there is no way i can conclusively say that. it certainly helped that cause. AM the album was very us-american in essence-- it drew from hiphop and r&b after all. the soundscape of the arctic monkeys was very much rooted in its northern british indie roots, and AM was the first one that was clearly not. and mr. snarl was just a visual reflection of that. [for more on how the arctic monkeys conquered the us]

mr. snarl was a certain kind of masculine in a way alex turner personas haven't been previously or since. he has always presented as conventionally masculine. even the humbug persona- him being my girlfriend notwithstanding- is not much different from the aesthetics of say, ray davies or mick jagger or george harrison back in the 60s and 70s. the slightly effeminate dramaticism of eycte is not exactly gender-bending as such.

but mr. snarl was hypermasculine. masculinity has had an interesting place in his lyrics up until they- they are both critical ('brianstorm' 'a certain romance') and fascinated ('jeweller's hand' 'catapult') of more aggressive masculine characteristics. (he does use a lot of very sexual but not necessarily erotic language to describe said masculinity- but that's another can of worms.) mr. snarl was in a way, alex being those characters from those songs he was writing about. mr. snarl also very aggressively straight. straight with a capital s. his songs in AM still had the self-abasing and submissive undertones to the narrator that love songs from humbug and sias, but much toned down. he was out there shouting out his girlfriend on stage. and who can forget the "ladiessssssss!" moment. he had models hanging off him in photoshoots.

you probably saw these photos and thought- "what the fuck?!" with a cackle. that is exactly what makes mr. snarl camp. the irony, the ridiculousness of it all.

5. i don't think alex was trying to be or do camp. camp is best when it is not intentional. i can even confidently wager alex would not take it as a compliment if i showed him this essay. a lot of very "serious" people look down upon camp as something lowbrow and tacky and unserious. but it isn't. i would go ahead and classify mr. snarl under naive camp- he is trying to be straightlaced and serious, but failing grandly, which makes it deliciously camp.

so. mr. snarl was an exaggerated representation of masculinity. in a sense, mr. snarl was basically drag. alex turner being "Alex Turner".

#alex turner #arctic monkeys #the last shadow puppets #camp #susan sontag #i spent wayyyy to much time on this #journal of alex turner studies

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existentialterror · 29 days

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ARG notes: ZampanioSim, part 2

Hey guys. catfishAnabasis (Light) here, continuing my… uh, ZampanioSim Let’s Play? That’s dumb. My investigation into the Homestuck/Magnus Archives/House of Leaves-inspired alternate reality game ZampanioSim. Read Part 1 first.

Now we have the bare minimum on Zampanio Sim’s format. Actually, we don’t know much and it’s constantly changing, but we at least have an idea of what we’re in for. Cool.

What is the story unfolding within Zampanio Sim?

So we know from the Classpect Menu game, the one that “is” ZampanioSim, that this was an effort to simulate a now-deleted game from the 1970s called Zampanio, based on a now-lost* FAQ on how to play it. At some point, possibly just search engines, I have learned that Eyedol Games is the company that makes Zampanio. Let’s take that going in.

*dubious

A lot of the “routes” off the house at the start of ZampanioSim – see the diagram – are procedurally generated places to explore or are otherwise collections of content. But other have a more directly obvious narrative to them. I have marked these places here.

Let’s go. We'll start... Uh...

…

(Okay, so there’s a recurring meme in ZampanioSim about whether personality-typing you based on whether you traverse labyrinths clockwise or counterclockwise.

But I’m confused about which one that means – like if I’m looking at a drawing of a labyrinth top-down, and I go from the entrance to the right passage, I guess I’m going counterclockwise. But if I were standing in a physical maze, the clockways framing wouldn’t occur to me – I mean, they’re both chiral processes, but like, the hand of a clock moves to the right, so which reference am I taking?

Maybe I’m not cut out for labyrinths. When I’m caving in minecraft I go to the right, so if I’m coming back into the house through the north door, then... I guess:)

We’ll start with the non-existent West Route (accessible by clicking on the west side of the house, where you’d expect a door to be.)

AdventureSimWest

AdventureSimWest is an audience-participation adventure game that, like Problem Sleuth or Early Homestuck, takes suggested commands from an audience that guide a character, and the author tells a story around it. This one has been running for quite some time, so there’s a lot of backlogged material!

AdventureSimWest gives us a lot of info right away. It’s about a character named Peewee, who is hired by Eyedol Games. Peewee and the staff of Eyedol Games are trapped inside a Space Loop. A Space Loop is like a Time Loop except that once you die, physical space (within the loop) and many of the circumstances reset, but its point in time is… not fixed. Peewee is a snakelike alien called a lamia. He first appeared in a different SBURBlike game on FarragoFiction.com called Farragnarok, which he remembers but which I don’t know anything about. He is a COOL GAMER who has lived various other lives including through the destruction of his home planet, Segundia. Keep in mind that he is from a SBURBlike.

Oh, hey, according to an offhand exchange in AdventureSimWest, solving mazes by following the righthand wall means you’re going counterclockwise. Everyone jot that down. We can bootstrap this. We can do this.

I read up through the “JR Rambles about Spoilers” interlude. And it was fun! It’s Peewee’s quirky, haphazard series of adventures in a quirky, sharp universe. The style is fun, self-aware and whimsical. I don’t know how much about the AdventureSimWest lore applies to mainstream Zampanio, especially given the multilayered narrative Zampanio serves up to us like a delicious but concerningly non-Euclidean cake, but some of the characters and concepts appear in other places, and so the worldbuilding might too. Here are some things we learn about the world of AdventureSimWest:

Peewee arrived here from his old universe by jumping into a giant, spiky, magical wall of flesh called an Echidna. He’s actually one of the set of gods who created this universe, but seems to be the only one left.

People central to the space loop remember the space loop exists.

Eyedol Games may have caused or be causing the space loop, but does not appear to be completely in control of it.

The space loop started in 1971 and is spiraling towards the end of the world in 2022.

Eyedol has other employees, including:

Wanda, the “CEBro” and “Lord of Space” (homestuck classpect). She’s tremendously rad and maybe a shapeshifter.

The Intern, a college-aged dude from Ohio, who Wanda is always trying to find and who seems unexpectedly critical to the existence of Eyedol Games. (I might apply a little homestuck logic and guess that he’s the “Muse of Time”, but this is my own speculation.)

The Closer, an aggressive businesslady in a suit and cape

Someone called the Eye Killer, who, like, lives in Eyedol’s basement and kills people.

Flower Chick, some kind of identity-stealing fae, who keeps a copy of Peewee’s skull on her desk.

Quotidians, which are another alien species – these ones are shapeshifting crows and are a hivemind. Many of them are named Tom.

Parker, a “waste”, who has made his business out of learning glitches, hacking, etc, in reality itself.

There are also just two other teams of people who don’t work at Eyedol Games, who both got ejected into some kind of infinite labyrinth around the same time. They have kind of SCP energy. I don’t know what their deal is. Yet.

What about that FAQ?

The mysterious lost ZampanioFAQ actually exists, more or less.

When I found it, it felt like natural game progression: I beat the Classpect Menu game, then there got a link to the official Discord. Then buried in one of the Discord channels, one of the pinned links goes to – yes – THE Zampanio FAQ.

But then it turned out the thing I’d found a link to was a fan-made transcript (by @verbosebabbler) of a different “official” ZampanioFAQ PDF. And through various link-hopping, most of which I now forget, I also found the original PDF on a different website by JR. So I don’t know if I got there the way I was “supposed to” or where else I might otherwise have found the FAQ. But we’re here now!

(The official discord, by the way, does not have talk permissions open in any channel. They are all frozen conversations from years ago, with only a spare few used threads acting as the actual usable channels. So the discord is its own labyrinth too. ITS A-MAZE-ING)

Okay. The ZampanioFAQ. In the frontnote to the FAQ, JR describes this finding a printout of fic they'd read long ago, and sharing it as evidence that they did not invent Zampanio – that this is a sburbsim/glitchFAQ (we’ll get to that, hang tight) crossover fanfic by someone else that they read once, lost, and recently re-found - and that it has a couple indications that it’s referencing Zampanio.

Mostly, contentwise, this FAQ is sort of a interuniversal document about how to play SBURB (the universe-creation game that the characters in Homestuck play), written by a group of players. The Zampanio FAQ has, unfortunately, been heavily redacted by interdimensional forces, perhaps SBURB itself.

It’s like it’s written by a new set of characters who are playing their own game of Sburb. They’re learning about it as they experience it! Haha, that’s a cute gimmick.

Oh, the skull? Yeah, don’t worry about that. Hah, no, I get how it looks. But it's actually totally fine.

The redacted words in the ZampanioFAQ seem mostly to do with certain details of SBURB itself, like SBURB is trying to keep its players from spoilers.

Drawing from VerboseBabbler’s transcript and partial de-redaction of the FAQ, I gave my hand at making what sense I could out of the original PDF.

Excerpt. You may not like it, but this is peak ARG performance: multiple collaborative layers of nested PDF annotation.

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

Trying to fill in these blanks made me appreciate the potential of the fan-ARG.

Homestuck is a story that both rewards a lot of knowledge about its worldbuilding and also often doesn't explain itself – I think that’s why it has such intense fanwork, because it implies so much but leaves you to fill in the gaps.

Like, okay, classpects, alright? Fans make a big deal about classpecting and it’s cool but it’s also kind of nothing, like, we get some gestures about what it means but not much. (Quick, what does a mage do?) There’s so much fanon trying to make sense of it that even the wiki explanation is based on fanon. But fanon can be dope and people have done some really, really neat stuff bouncing off of the gaps in canon.

ZampanioSim is about nested realities and missing information, and it's heavily based on specific fanworks of homestuck. And filling in missing information on this document, I could use my knowledge of Homestuck to make inferences about this related-but-separate storyline and worldbuilding. That’s so cool!

In the same way that the best fanfiction draws from and interacts repeatedly with canon, the fan-ARG can act as a commentary on or a dialogue with its sources - a story made stronger by connection to another.

There have been other fan ARGs and this is really my first experience with the genre (well - does EverymanHYBRID count as a fanwork? discuss), but like, holy shit, I get it now.

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

Okay, let’s regroup. So the FAQ is a bunch of advice written collaboratively by a group of people playing SBURB. The FAQ is about a kind of SBURB that is very similar to the one in Homestuck – but it’s even more similar to another game on the FarragoFiction website, SBURBsim, which is “is a fanmade browser simulation” of SBURB.

In SBURBsim, you can throw in a randomly-generated or customized set of characters into their own session, and SBURBsim will invent plotlines, fights, character progression, romance, alchemy, time travel shenanigans, and more, eventually telling you a story about how that session might go. It is mind-bogglingly ornate and cool, check it out.

Okay, anyway, so the game described in the FAQ is mostly Sburb-y but has some clear Farrago/SburbSIM elements in the form of the fan-classes – wastes, graces, smiths, and more. But it has some stuff that feels more Homestuck-classic-SBURB, like in the FAQ [EDIT: SBURBsim] there’s a convention where all the randomly generated player-usernames have the same initials as their classpects, so like the session’s Bard of Time might have the username belugaTrainer or belligerentTriangle or whatever, which isn’t a thing in Homestuck nor in the FAQ. It also adds a few elements all its own, like that there’s a recognized pantheon of gods who have sway over the rules of the universe, with their own usernames and classpects.

(Hey, synthesizing that with some background Homestuck knowledge + what we’ve learned from AdventureSimWest, I think the ‘gods’ are the players whose Sburb session created the ones that the FAQ authors were born into. Elegant!)

Oh yeah, as JR mentions, the Zampanio FAQ also takes heavy and pseudo-explicit inspiration from a fanfiction called the Sburb Glitch FAQ, a sprawling fanwork I haven’t read that’s sort of a game guide and technical manual to SBURB. Maybe more of this is references to that, I don’t know.

(Sidenote, Rose’s GameFAQ was one of my favorite plot points in Homestuck. I’m only sorry it wasn’t used more. So I’m delighted to see all these fanworks that took inspiration from it.)

So okay whether the FAQ players are more playing OG-SBURB, or SBURBsim, or a game that has aspects of both – well, they’re all pretty similar, I don’t’ think we need to split hairs. This document is an in-universe survival guide for a SBURBlike.

You know what it’s not particularly like? ZampanioSim, the game it supposedly inspired!

This is so fun to me. SBURBsim existed long before ZampanioSim. If you were going to make a simulator game based on the Zampanio FAQ, that game would be SBURBsim. But SBURBsim was already a thing! JR knows this – they worked on SBURBsim! Their sburbsona is on the about page!

They mention this in the introduction to the “found scanned printout” of the FAQ - they initially read it deeply to figure out, through the redaction, if it was a fanwork for their own project (SBURBsim). They write:

this is obvs JUST the faq, not any of the like, description or author name or all that shit that eventually lead me down the rabbit hole. like, you could find the missing sections in this weird ...not arg? I don't THINK? and they started talking about things like the achievement system and shit, stuff that stuck with me a lot more if what i chose to focus on in zampaniosim is any indication. still. having a record of the START of this branch is better than nothing

So, okay, the FAQ itself is not explicitly Zampanio. We’re missing the description and whatever else that’s supposedly out there somewhere, as lost media. I tried to find some reason to think the fic was supposedly out of time, like that it would have been from before SBURBsim was made, but there isn't any - everything lines up with what JR said in the forward.

So I think maybe reading so far into the FAQ without that other supposed metadata was a great time and, yes, sold me on a new art form, but it wasn’t that productive in terms of the broader Zampanio story.

... Or was it?

I've connected the dots

There was a reference somewhere – I think in the South route, though I can’t swear to it – that was pretty outright something like “JR added Magnus Archives elements to Zampanio because of an at-the-time obsession with the Spiral from TMA.” Now, some stuff like the south route is less in-character than in other places, so I don’t want to necessarily say that everything like that will “carry through” to the rest of canon, if that makes sense. But it helps put those pieces together, so here’s my running theory:

In the story, Zampanio is a memeplex that moves and spreads between dimensions - very diverse multiple dimensions, including different fictional worlds. (Think the Big Bad in There Is No Antimemetics Division - effecting "universes which embed ours as fiction".) Sort of a psychic prion that goes around twisting orderly systems and punching its way between meta-layers. The core of it stays similar between - it has a predilection for spirals, mazes, meta bullshit, and games - but some of the specifics change from instance to instance.

Zampanio probably spread rampant among this constellation of Sburb universes, perhaps because Zampanio is affiliated with games and Sburb universe is a game. (Or at least uses a game to reproduce.) It’s a great carrier. From there, Zampanio rode into our universe on the back of the FAQ. (Game FAQs being a known way to throw information between Sburb dimensions, in Homestuck.)

JR took the seed that came with the FAQ and instantiated Zampanio in this universe, and added their own compatible TMA-spiral flavoring to it.

(This also lines up with another cool aspect of Zampanio, which is that if you make your own fan-work or fan-story about Zampanio, that’s canon too. It is impossible to gamejack this. Thus far I’m focusing on JR’s ZampanioSim canon, but there are other people out there putting their own spins on it, which are also canon.)

Questions I have now, if that theory is true:

What other aspects of ZampanioSim carry on between versions?

Is Eyedol necessarily associated with the Zampanio memeplex? Does or did it actually create ZampanioSim in some causal way?

Does the Space Loop that occurs in AdventureSimWest have ramifications or equivalents in other instances of Zampanio?

Why does Zampanio like games so much? (Is it because interactive games are a convenient way to punch through from one dimension to the fictional dimension within it?)

There are comments about someone, maybe Eyedol, trying to scrub the ZampanioFAQ from the internet (in our dimension). Why would they want that?

What’s the other missing metadata that would have associated the ZampanioFAQ with Zampanio?

Who wrote the ZampanioFAQ? Was it written (...IC) as a fanwork of SBURBsim or did it “come from a SBURB universe”? Who censored it?

Aw man. And there's still so much I haven't even gotten into.

Like, okay, do you guys know gopher? It’s an early alternative to HTTP as a way of organizing the internet that was mostly sidelined, but a few servers are still around.

Apparently there’s a bunch more Zampanio stuff only accessible via Gopher and I’m going to have to figure out how to use it.

Thanks, JR, YOU MAD SORCERER.

So, that's where I'm at vis a vis ZampanioSim. I gotta get back to my own stuff for right now, but thank you ZampanioSim discord for helping blaze trails and mostly to JR for weaving such a wonderful weird mystery.

If you have questions or comments you want me to talk about in a future one of these, my ask box is open.* Also, if you get into ZampanioSim yourself, feel free to say hi on the discord.**

*(okay I know people have been involved in this for years and I’m still mostly trying to formulate my own opinions about what’s going on, so if you know something that’s like “an actual answer” and want to share, then consider phrasing it as an ominous clue instead of telling me outright – but I’m under the strong impression that this is an ARG where there’s not gonna be like a canonical underlying “answer” to a lot of things so, you know, do what brings you joy.)

**Your first challenge is to find the discord. I wanna be cryptic too!

#zampaniosim #creepy shit #light's arg notes #arg #unfiction #light writes #homestuck #house of leaves #light listens to the magnus archives #light draws #zampanio #unreality #I mean. the ARG is real #really an ARG #alternate reality games

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seonghwaddict · 1 year

Text

★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 007 ] the latter option.

synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of… interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au. chapter warnings. alcohol consumption, swearing. word count. 2.2k

　　　　　　　　chapter vi // chapter vii // chapter viii

The boys dropped you off at your apartment since it was on the way to their house and you promised Sangmi that you’d go to the party together. Not to mention you needed some more things for your outfit; makeup and undergarments. After waving goodbye to them as they drove off, you spun around on your heels. You walked into the apartment building, nodding hello to the workers in the lobby and quickly getting into the elevator and riding it to the fifth floor.

You unlocked the front door and walked in, finding Sangmi and two of your friends, Daniel and Minseong, in the living room playing Uno as they waited for you. At the sound of you entering the 2 bedroom apartment, they all set down their cards and turned to greet you.

“Hey.” You smiled at them warmly, letting the two men side hug you as you clutched your bag of clothes in your dominant hand. “Are you guys also coming to the party?”

“Of course! Daniel needs to get super drunk so he can forget about his rough breakup with Sunhee.” Minseong laughed, lightly punching his best friend in the arm.

They were already changed into something you’d expect them to wear to a party. Daniel wore a silky blue button-up tucked into a pair of black pants, chains hanging from his belt while Minseong had a much more casual outfit—blue jeans and a loose white tank top. Nevertheless, both of them looked positively handsome.

“I moved on, and so has she,” the brunet shrugged, “I saw her and Daehyun looking awfully smitten in building C earlier.”

You regarded his posture carefully, squinting in disbelief. “You’re still in love with her, aren’t you?”

Daniel’s face suddenly changed to a pained grimace, hand coming up to wipe away non-existent tears. “Yeah, I am.” He straightened himself out and offered the three of you another shrug. “I don’t know… it’s been like a week, and everywhere I go I just end up looking around and hoping I see her somewhere.”

“You were together for almost three years, it’s okay to miss that relationship.” Sangmi patted his shoulder reassuringly before turning around and heading to the kitchen, grabbing a cup and filling it with water. She continued, speaking over her shoulder. “And who knows, maybe you’ll find someone at the party today.”

Assuming that the conversation was over, you excused yourself and shuffled to your bedroom. You pulled the new clothing items and laid them out on your bed, trying to decide what else you’d wear. The corset top didn’t seem like it needed a bra, so you just pulled out black panties. Feeling that it needed one more thing, you grabbed a pair of white thigh-high socks.

Once you had everything on, you sat at your desk and did your makeup, watching what you did through the desktop mirror. You were never a fan of thick layers of cakey makeup, so you opted to go for a light look.

You put a little bit of eyeshadow on your eyelids, followed by some iridescent glitter, a thin straight line of eyeliner and some mascara on your upper and lower lashes before dusting some blush on your cheeks. As a final touch, you applied red-tinted lipgloss to your plump lips.

For your hair, you brushed it and then fluffed it up, too lazy to style it properly. Everything looked great when looked at yourself in the mirror in your closet and you exited the room with a smile, happy with your choices. You heard a low whistle as you walked past the kitchen and turned to find Minseong checking you out. Feeling generous, you gave him a twirl.

You knew he didn’t mean anything by praising you for your looks, too committed and in love with his boyfriend—who he was going to meet up with at the party—so you didn’t question it when he came up to you and wrapped an arm around your waist, leading you to the living room so you could all leave.

“You went shopping?” Sangmi raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down and then nodding approvingly.

“Mhm,” you hummed in confirmation, taking the hems of each side of your white shirt and parting them so she could get a better look at the corset. “Don’t worry, I still have money for the rent. Wooyoung and his friends paid for me.”

The three of them stilled and looked at you, then at each other, then at you again.

“Are you fucking any of them?”

Taken aback, you choke on nothing and step away from Minseong as the question leaves his lips, holding your hands up. “Woah. Let’s calm down a bit. No, of course, I’m not!”

“But why would they just pay for you? We saw the bag, that place is not cheap by any means.” Daniel leaned against the back of the couch, arms crossing over his chest.

“I’ve been getting close with Wooyoung because of our project and he obviously sees me as a friend. They’re filthy rich and from what I can tell, they’re nice people. So, I’ll do you one better.” You mirrored his pose, sticking your chin up and crossing your arms over your chest. “Why would they ever think to sleep with me?”

Sangmi snorted. “They’ve probably gone through more than half the girls on campus.”

On one of the days when you and Wooyoung were working together, Seonghwa decided to keep you guys company again. It was that day that you asked them about the rumours. They admitted to having slept around quite a bit but were very quick to deny that everyone was exaggerating and that they didn’t want you to see them as sex-thirsty animals.

Which is why you completely dismissed Sangmi’s statement in favour of arguing against it. “Actually, that’s not true, people on campus just tend to dramatise and sexualise everything about them.” You sighed. “Guys, I swear, it’s not like that. I think they just need a genuine friend.”

They exchanged looks again.

“So, you’re telling me,” Daniel started, scepticism dripping from his tongue, “you haven’t even thought about them in that way.”

“No.” Your answer was firm and clear, so they didn’t doubt you for even a second. Deciding to move on, the four of you left the building and got into Daniel’s car as you sent him the address of the house.

But what you said was one hundred per cent, without a doubt a lie. Of course, you had thought about them in more than a platonic way. It was hard not to, especially with the way they treated you.

You couldn’t deny the way your breath hitched every time Wooyoung leaned a little too close.

Or how at peace you felt when you sat in the library with Seonghwa, revising notes from a linguistics lecture until you fell asleep and woke up in his car with his jacket draped around you.

Or how you couldn’t help but feel all giggly and silly every time Jongho walked through the door of your bookshop.

Or how your throat suddenly went dry when you rode shotgun in San’s car, his hand flying to your thigh to keep you steady after a particularly abrupt break.

Or how appreciated you felt when you entered Yeosang’s café and he started making your drink without you having to order it, having memorised and perfected it to your tastes based on his observations.

Or how your face felt so warm when Yunho kept you company as you picked out jewellery.

Or the pull of attraction you felt as soon as you caught sight of Mingi, his aura so intriguing with looks to match.

Or how completely seen how felt when Hongjoong indulged and participated in your rambling of music and art throughout most of the drive.

During this drive, however, you knew no one would have those conversations with you. Both of the guys in STEM courses—Minseong took biology and Daniel took Mechanical Engineering. Both of them completely messed up their sleep schedules and regretted all their life choices very thoroughly. And Sangmi, while she did have to work with music a lot as a dance major, she didn’t care about it or think about it as you did.

Soon enough, the car slowed to a stop a little down the street of the house. Despite this, as soon as you got out of the car, you could already hear the music in the distance. The sound of which only got louder and louder the closer your group got to the building, beats resounding through your bones.

Inside there were far more people than you expected, already feeling warm as bodies swayed and danced around you. Trying to remember the layout of the house, you squeezed your way through the crowd and into the kitchen area which was thankfully less crowded than the entrance hall and living room. It was also the only place actually illuminated by the ceiling lamps, they had set up some kind of projector that lit up the rest of the house a dark blue with specs of light.

Daniel was still behind you, talking to you though you couldn’t hear him through the loud noises surrounding you as you both poured yourself your first drinks of the night. Ten minutes later and you had downed five or six shots of soju and were feeling reasonably lighter and more carefree. Between your shots, you made sure to take a few gulps of water and have bites of pizza from the counter in hopes to make your hangover the next day a bit lighter.

Daniel disappeared into the crowd and when you looked into the living room, you caught brief glances of Sangmi already dancing with the girl she had been telling you about for the past three weeks. Minseong separated from you as soon as the four of you stepped into the house, on a mission to go find his boyfriend. So, all on your own, you took one more shot poured by some shirtless guy on the opposite side of the counter, downed the rest of your water, and made your way to the heart of the party.

You weren’t sure how much time you spent in the living room, your phone having been handed to Minseong since he was the only one staying sober tonight and you didn’t want to risk losing anything. Eventually, you got tired of the sweatiness as people nudged and rubbed and danced. You had yet to see any of the boys, so you decided to walk around in hopes of finding one of them.

Knowing Hongjoong was deejaying tonight, you knew he must be somewhere in the living room as well, so you shoved your way to the back end. True to your suspicions, he stood behind a makeshift DJ setup as he talked with Mingi, both of them holding red solo cups in their hands and occasionally taking sips. A giddy smile overtook your face as you skipped over to them.

Sneaking up behind Mingi and hoping his body was large enough to hide you from Hongjoong, you quickly wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face and giggling into his back. You felt him freeze beneath your touch as Hongjoong let out a chuckle.

“Hey, I’m sorry but–” he peeled off your hands and turned around, cutting himself off when he saw you. “Oh.”

You stepped into the space next to him so Hongjoong could also be part of the conversation, Mingi’s body following you as he continued to stare. Hongjoong was faring much better. Both their jaws dropped ever so slightly as they took in your appearance.

He’d never tell you this, but Hongjoong and Seonghwa both had a thing for corsets. So, when the blue-haired man saw through the opening of the white shirt and finally noted the fact you were wearing one with a waist chain, he couldn’t help but let his eyes flit over you hungrily.

“You guys look great!” You shouted over the music, words slurred together as the alcohol began taking effect.

Mingi collected himself, grinning as he slung an arm over your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. “We could say the same for you, princess.”

As his words registered, they both watched with adoration twinkling in their eyes as you looked up at him and giggled a “thank you” and covered your blushing face with both of your hands. The three of you conversed, though neither of the men could tear their eyes away.

Much to Mingi’s dismay, you eventually removed yourself from him and moved to step away from them in general. “I’m gonna go find the other guys. Do you know where they are?”

They both thought for a moment. They had two options; tell you they didn’t know and hope you stayed with them, or tell you what they knew and watch you leave. Finally, they settled on the latter option, not wanting you to get disappointed.

“Yeosang is upstairs making sure people aren’t fucking in our rooms,” Hongjoong laughed, “If you go upstairs and he’s not in the hallway, try checking the third room on the left.”

“Thank you, Joongie!” You went up to him, hugging him briefly and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before turning and disappearing up the stairs.

Yeah, the latter option was definitely the right choice.

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] sorry this chapter is out a bit later than usual, i didn't have everything ready to be published. but, anyways, i hope you guys liked it!! i think the mutual attraction between mc and the boys has been established, so let's see what happens when they all look delicious and get a little too drunk.

　　ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ taglist ... @atinytinaa @marievllr-abg @moonsangie @kiss-hwa @cqndiedcherries @ateezourstars @kitty4hwa @hyukssunflower @aestheticsluut @neohyxn @mrowwww @darkdayelixer @itsokaytobedumb00 @hwa-sans @purplelady85 @meginthebuilding27 @stopeatread @mothworked @foliea @euphoric-emily16 @teezers99 @mulletjoonsupremacy @imalildelulu @sunukissed @blehhhidk @ad0rechuu @d1am0ndw0lfxd @strawberry-moonpies @bluehwale-main @stupefystudies @yandere-stories @seongwin @huachengsbestie01 @galaxypox @moonminji @lilactangerine @asjkdk @honey-lemon-goose @stayteezdreams @diorwoo @yunho0o0o0o @majestickitty @shookykookie30 @kyukyustar @seongfury @90s-belladonna @lightinyinthedark @skz-enthusiasttt @legohwas @0325tiny @seongua @swiftschuyler @satsuri3su @ren-junwrld

@senpai-of-doom @humpmed4ddy @starillusion13 @cosmic-w0lf @watamotee33 @stinging--nettle @ynxxho @hiraii-gf @minkisfairy@sanniesworld05

#★ — › NEVER SAY NEVER !#ateez #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #vampire au #college au #fluff #eventual smut

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skuiive · 3 months

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im bored so lemme give some inspo for what type gears you can get without raising suspicion!!

(this is aimed for those closeted therians but this can apply to anyone! even ppl who aren’t alterhuman and just enjoy the simple things in life!) (i am speaking from what helps me! but obviously you can take your own spin on this :))

this is a lengthly post so my apologies!!

necklaces / chokers : some necklaces have pendants of either a bone or dog, you can easily play it off and say it reminds you of your pet! also some chokers can be played off as an “alt style” of thats more your type! this can be applied to actual any theriotype! such as cats or fish or insects, etcetc.

backpacks : for our winged friends, you can find bags that has wings on them! some have moth, butterflies, and bats! i have even seen some with fly wings :)

cape / blanket : there are some capes or blanket that have a winged pattern, you may use it as gear so its like you have your wings !!

keychains : some keychains have tails! esp if they come with a bag :D

leg warmers / arm warmers : these can be very helpful for our fluffy friends !! it may replicate as if you have your thick fur

rings : rings have all different shapes and designs, some rings i have saved are dinosaur shaped, shark, and bones !!

hats / beanies : some hats or beanies come w animal shaped head! it could be either shark, cat, bear, etcetc. you could play it off that you are interested in in these type animals!

house slippers : ive seen some house slippers where they’re in the shape of paws, claws, and even dinosaurs!

fishnet : you can apply this to either your arm or legs, im not too sure but it is a thought! it could help for those who are more scaly

headphone accessories : theres some headphone accessories where you can clip on ears or shark/fish fins :))

thats all i can think of atm!! feel free to reply some gear that you use thats not very suspicious ! or to suggest some things

(reminder that you don’t have to have gear to be a therian, it doesn’t make you any less valid)

#therian #alterhuman #otherkin #wolf therian #caninekin #therianthropy #wolf theriotype #coyote therian #fish therian #bear therian #shark therian #felinekin #furry #insect therian #winged kin

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chariscooluwu · 3 months

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jordan riki x fem!user

kinks: daddy, height difference, degrading , sloppy , spitting , unprotected, fingering, cream pie, hair pulling , bruising

Jordan Riki, your boyfriend, had recently been suspended for two games for aggressively charging at an opposing player. Today, he was bitter and seething with frustration, trying to keep his anger in check as he sat silently in the apartment, watching his team play on TV. You wanted to help him release all that pent-up rage and bitterness through intimacy. Jordan, wondering why you were taking so long in the bathroom, had no idea you were preparing a special surprise. You carefully styled your hair and applied makeup, slipping into dark red lingerie and stockings that accentuated every curve of your body. This was the set he had gifted you months ago for your birthday, and you had been saving it for the perfect moment. That moment was now.

You emerged from the bathroom slowly, swaying your hips like a Victoria's Secret angel. The instant Jordan cocked his head to the side to look at you, his jaw dropped, and he immediately turned off the TV. The room fell into silence, the only sound being your unsteady breaths.

Your breath trembled with anticipation, wondering what he would do next. Jordan stood up, his taller frame moving toward you. His eyes were filled with lust as he flashed his pearly whites. He gently tilted your chin to make you look at him, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. His thumb slid into your mouth, and your soft lips instinctively sucked on his fingers.

“I’m going to fuck your little brains out, hm? You fucking slag.”

His voice was gruff and needy. You had done something truly special to make him this tempted. Jordan picked up your small frame with surprising gentleness, carrying you to the bedroom. The living room was no place for what he had in mind; you deserved to be ravished against silk bed sheets. His eyes glared at you, analysing every detail of your appearance. He licked his lips, his erection painfully straining against his shorts, begging to be freed. With a swift motion, he threw you onto the bed.

Jordan climbed onto the bed, gripping your hair to make you focus on him. He spat on your face, then pulled you into a wet, sloppy kiss, savouring the messiness he loved. He wanted you to be his little slut for the night. As he broke the kiss, a string of saliva connected your lips. He licked your saliva and lipstick, taking a deep breath.

"Are you going to be a good girl? Or do you already know what happens to bad girls?" he cooed, chuckling softly.

"I am, Jordan... Please. I'll be a good slut," you responded, leaning in for an affectionate kiss. He held your tiny body with one hand, towering over you, knowing he could take you at any moment. It was incredibly arousing. With his other hand, he tore away your dark red underwear, revealing your wetness. He curled his thick fingers inside your tight pussy, pumping in and out as you pleaded for him to go softer. He laughed loudly, shaking his head.

"Be a good girl... for Daddy, hm?" he said, pushing deeper than before, stretching you more, hitting your G-spot repeatedly. You squirmed and whimpered his name loudly, trying to move but his strength with one hand held you firmly in place. You could barely breathe, your mind going fuzzy, seeing stars. His fingers pounded your pretty pussy, making your juices gush, spraying all over his shorts and the sheets. He was your poison, your weakness. He turned your body over quickly, your arch unbelievable. You was too overwhelmed to think expect of your dirty thoughts. He pulled his wet shorts down, throwing to the side and then pulling his boxers down. Letting his fat, veiny cock out. Harder than a rock. With one hand,on your hip he pulled your body to him. With the other he pulled your hair. Making you moan his name loudly. He took one last breath as he entered your tight pussy. Him groaning loudly at your tightness, feeling like he was going to fill you up already but he needed to stop himself for you. Inch by inch, you and him moaned in unison. Your body is shaking and pleading for help. He let go of your hair. He needed to go wild. Fuck this team, fuck the players he thought. He grabbed you with both of his hands on your hips. Leaving bruises for sure. He slammed his cock into you. Pounding in and out like a fucking animal. Jordan and you was the quote of fucking like animals. Him fucking you like this was his redamancy. As you pleaded for more he went deeper feeling like he was touching your uterus. All of your juices came all over his fat thighs and dick.

“Fuck- Oh my god Jordan Yes!. Please!”

“Fucking slut aren’t ya? Such a pretty thing for me.”

He gasped out. He was even running out of stamina. He felt his high, his head rolling back as he slowed down. Making you squirt even more. As he stopped he rubbed his cock for extra stimulation. Giving all of his cum in one whole package. As he took his cock out of your pussy, all of his cum came trailing down. He slapped your ass roughly, you whimpering loudly as he rolled over.

“Fuck the Broncos. I’ll fuck you.”

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spoiled-milk · 1 year

Text

honkai star rail characters’ reaction to your tattoos [ft dan heng, welt, blade, kafka, gepard]

a/n: it's been four weeks of uni and i have pulled too many all nighters and consumed way too many energy drinks. i am running on no juice at the moment and i wrote this is like two sittings and it is very much not proof read

content warning: mentions of tattoos (duh), very out of character characters probably, shitty writing, sfw

word count: ~780 words

dan heng

neutral to your body tattoos and just see it as another part of you

i personally hc that he has at least one on his body and it’s on right shoulder (source: me i saw it in person in his bed)

doesn’t mean that every time you wear a tank top and your back is somewhat visible he can’t help but stare at you

it’s just fascinating to him. he wants to know if it has meaning to you or if you got it on a whim, if you were meticulous in picking every element represented or it’s just a collage of your favorite things. if the artwork on your back shows your lifetime story that words can’t describe

sometimes at night when the you’re giving him information to fill in the data bank and you fall asleep he’ll unconsciously hover his hand where your tattoo is and rub circles where it is

welt

welt sees your tattoos in pretty much the same way dan heng does, but he admired how the artwork on your body highlights your beauty

when you fall asleep on the couch filling out paperwork for both himeko and for the data bank, your tattoo is visible

as you snore on the red couches in the lobby of the express, welt can’t help but bring you a blanket and shift you into a position that won’t hurt your back in the morning

welt sits next to you book in hand while he watches you snooze away. eventually he too succumbs to slumber and he is seen sleeping next to you on the couch (no one is sure how the two of you manage to fit on one couch)

blade

he’s the first one and probably the only one to notice that your tattoo covers a scar

he won’t ask you about it (it’s not any of his business) but he would point it out in private

“you’ve got a scar there” he’d point at your tattoo and you’d play dumb “pfft… what scar?” then he points at the exact spot on your tattoo where ink covers scar tissue

freaks you out tbh you thought it was not that noticeable and blade senses your panic and reassures you it can’t be spotted that easily

he’s a little confused on why you would want to cover it and you tell him honestly. you don’t like it when people point it out while in public and you just found out easier to cover it up permanently without needing to always apply foundation

he feels bad for you but he’s got bandages on his hands so who is he to talk about covering up wounds

he has a new sense of closeness to you and vice versa. You sometimes catch him eyeing your tattoo and you ask him if he wants to get one too

he politely declines but if you wanted to get matching tattoos with him in a discreet spot, he won’t reject probably

kafka

i’m surprised that in that one light cone of kafka from forgotten hall she’s got none but that’s okay she’s still hot nevertheless

mommy kafka thinks your tattoos are hot probably so she deliberately buys you clothing that don’t cover the tattoo (backless dresses, sleeves less shirts, low rise jeans, shoulder less blouses)

she will be upset if you don’t wear the things she buys you

she probably thinks back tattoos are the sexiest and if you let her she would totally kiss your back just to make you squirm

loves water color style type tattoos the most, but whatever you have on you is hot to her

gepard

in one of gepard’s voice lines he mentions that he’s into gardening (hot hot hot) so i think if you had a tattoo of flowers he’d melt probably

if it’s on your shoulder or back and you show him? he will scream. he’s gonna scream, throw his jacket at you, then go into another room. he’s just a little baby you gotta cut him some slack

will admire your tattoos from afar but cannot look you in your eyes because he will go red in the face

if you ask him for his input for some flowers for a new tattoo idea that you have, will be honored that you asked him of all people

he would suggests lilies, amaryllises, morning glories, or bellflowers. don’t ask him why though he will not be able to tell you without blushing

he thinks all these flowers are gorgeous and he finds you gorgeous and if you incorporated some of these in your new tattoo he will be putty in your hands

he rarely gets to give out advice that’s not related to silvermane guard rules, regulations, and formalities so he’s secretly ecstatic

#milk.txt #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail headcanons #dan heng x reader #blade x reader #welt x reader #kafka x reader #gepard x reader #dan heng hsr #welt yang #gepard landau #hsr kafka #blade hsr #Spotify

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spriteofmushrooms · 6 months

Note

Pls… pls elaborate 👁️👁️ so I can change my answer (in spirit) from crying a few days ago to crying right now!

Jiang Wanyin lies broken on the ground. Jin Ling, screaming, swings Suihua at the monstrous yao he'd just been pushed away from, the one that killed his jiujiu. Lan Jingyi should help, should move, but--anything that could kill Jiang Wanyin--

A clarity bell chimes as Lan Sizhui begins to play his guqin. The moment breaks, and Lan Jingyi leaps to flank the yao.

The battle is blue-lit by their signal flare and the full moon. Starbright sword flares sweep across the forest. Flashes of Jin Ling's qi, the golden brown of wutong leaves in autumn, bury themselves in the yao with every qi-laced arrow.

But it's only once Wen Ning holds the yao still that Wei Wuxian, responding to their flare via Hanguang-jun, eviscerates it with his trapped ghosts.

Hanguang-jun who is staring where Jiang Wanyin lies, his white robes bathed in red.

"Ah, stay back, a-Ling," a man's mirthful voice says. "Your jiujiu would be upset if I caught you, too."

Jin Ling starts "who the fuck" but is interrupted by Hanguang-jun's "Wei Ying."

Lan Jingyi turns to see Jin Ling's silhouette limned in red; Jiang Wanyin's body transformed by red; and a transparent youth in YunmengJiang-style robes sitting astride Jiang Wanyin, as bright and red as the setting sun, surrounded by a rainbow whirlwind of qi.

"Lan Zhan," the boy says laconically as a nearby tree cracks and falls. "Don't be boring for once, alright?"

As Lan Jingyi watches, the boy rests one hand on Jiang Wanyin's upper dantian and plunges the other into the swirling qi around them until all transforms to red. Another snap breaks the night, and Lan Jingyi realizes.

The little qi lights are from plants, bugs, and lesser spirits; the youth is draining the forest. An ash-black circle spreads from Jiang Wanyin.

Whose chest is moving.

"Jiang Cheng, wake up, ah? You're going to be late if you stay in bed all day." With the stolen vitality pulsing through him, the youth's features are clearer. He's handsome, his face much sweeter than Jiang Wanyin's sharp beauty. Mischief curls at the edges of his smile.

From Lan Jingyi's side, Wei Wuxian says coldly, "How often have you done this to him? Forcing foreign qi into his system will inevitably cause backlash."

The youth's smile sharpens. "Do you care, Wei-wanbei?" Without moving his hand, his thumb caresses Jiang Wanyin's cheek. "Besides, if I make it mine before I give it to him, is it really so different from spending years coalescing it into a golden core? His body knows me well."

"Gusu can integrate this part of your soul with the rest of you," Hanguang-jun says.

The youth laughs, and Wei Wuxian says "don't bother, Lan Zhan."

Ignoring his cultivation partner's advice, Hanguang-jun continues, "You will never rest until all pieces of your soul are joined. Let go of Jiang Wanyin, and come to me."

Jin Ling shifts. "You're healing jiujiu, right?"

"I am," the youth says, turning away from Hanguang-jun.

Jin Ling moves between Jiang Wanyin and Hanguang-jun, Suihua bare in his hand. "Let him do what he wants."

"How many times must Wei Ying destroy himself to fulfill a life debt to the dead?" Hanguang-jun demands, hand on Bichen.

Lan Sizhui finally speaks. "Hanguang-jun, Jin Ling, shouldn't we wait until we know more? None of us have the expertise to weigh in on Wei-xiao-gongzi's situation, do we? Applying theory without evidence could be harmful, too, Hanguang-jun." Then the traitor turns to Lan Jingyi. "If Zidian hasn't expelled Wei-xiao-gongzi, doesn't that mean Jiang-zongzhu is not possessed?"

"Yes," Lan Jingyi tries, then clears his throat. "Yes, Zidian wouldn't let its master be possessed. This must be something else."

A small voice interrupts the argument. "Wei... Wuxian?"

"Can't you call me shixiong just once, Jiang Cheng?"

"Started training first," Jiang Wanyin whispers.

"How would you know when my parents started training me? Especially since I'm older, and my mother is from a different tradition. Perhaps Baoshan Sanren starts her disciples at their hundred day celebration, hmm?"

"Stupid," Jiang Wanyin says. Then, "You're dead. Saw it."

"That was just my idiot body," the youth says with a smirk.

"Fuck you," Wei Wuxian spits.

At the noise, Jiang Wanyin's eyes flick to them. "A-Ling?"

"I'm fine, jiujiu!"

"Everyone's here because it's so rare to you lazing around," the youth says. "Do you think I could sell tickets? See Jiang Cheng take a break, only fifty tael!"

"Jiang-shixiong," Jiang Wanyin says, eyes back on the youth, taking huge rasping breaths between phrases. "Sounds better. Sixty tael, maybe."

"If he doesn't recognize you, then you don't know what this will do to him long-term," Wei Wuxian says.

"Oh, I do. I just wipe his memory every time. It keeps Jiang Cheng from digging me out of him, you know?"

"What."

The youth smiles beatifically down at Jiang Wanyin. "Did you think you got away with all of your not-quite-suicide, shidi? Did you think there wasn't a cost to being careless with yourself? Poor Pan Fu,¹ did his hero really not know what he gave his life to?"

"No!" Jiang Wanyin's fingers twitched, but even now his arm was more gore than whole. "Stop, stop. Shixiong, stop. Pan Fu, Pan Fu..."

"Still sad about that brat even now? Why am I not surprised. He wasn't even that strong of a cultivator; he just reminded you of me. Let go already."

"I raised him," Jiang Wanyin cries. "Don't, please, please."

Merciless, the youth bent down until their faces are centimeters apart. "What can you do to stop me? What have you ever been able to do against me, shidi?"

"Let me die, let me die, let me die, please let me die."

For a moment, the youth only gazes at Jiang Wanyin. "No," he says, and pours more of the forest into his shidi.

¹ Pan Fu is from this ficlet. No, Wei Wuxian wasn't jealous, why would he be? Pan Fu was simply to hand when Jiang Cheng threw himself into danger.

(To protect Pan Fu. But why should that matter? Jiang-zongzhu can't die for one of his hundreds of disciples. What would they do without him, hmm?)

#pallas.rtf #sandu-zidian #mdzs #my writing #jiang cheng

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