#some of it might change in the end but the premise is the same | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

meichenxi · 12 days

Text

Language learning: slow learning versus toxic productivity

Or: the process in crisis

Five years ago, all of the productivity advice I read (and gave out) as a successful self-learner of many different languages had one basic premise: that I was not doing enough, and that I could always be doing more.

Several burnouts later, running headlong from one mental illness into another, I'd like to invite you to entertain the exact opposite idea: there is a limit to what you can do. I have run face-first into mine on multiple occasions, and burnt out. At many points I've stopped learning the language at all. Most importantly, I've learnt to be distrustful of the very premise that all of the so-called productivity or optimisation advice is based on.

More is not always more.

Listen to a podcast in the target language whilst you exercise. Exercise to give yourself more energy to learn your target language. Talk to yourself in the shower in your target language. Do Anki whilst eating breakfast. Listen to Glossika whilst walking to work. Change your phone settings to your target language. Bullet journal. Manage your time. Make friends in your target language. Control your time. Write a diary. There's always enough time. These are all things I have done myself and recommended others do, to increase exposure to the language, to increase productivity.

Productivity? What productivity? What, exactly, is it that we are producing? I am producing sentences and words but - for who? Who is listening? Nobody's here, in my room, at 7am on a Sunday. If productivity were just speaking or writing, I'd be productive in my native language too, by virtue of speaking out loud. Or conversely, in language learning circles, should we measure it in terms of input? How many hours did you spend listening to Chinese yesterday? What about today? Is there anything you do in your life, in your daily life, that you could optimise? You're wasting time. There's time here, for those that want it. If you want to get ahead, to be successful, to be a good language learner, you have to know how to use that time. Go online, and debate over which tools are the best; watch your videos. What exactly is it that is being produced?

Productivity is a measuring tool for concrete output: the productivity of a field means how much crop it can yield per harvest. The productivity of a factory is how many mobile phone chargers it can bring to market per year. There are direct and measurable ways to increase this sort of productivity. But what is productivity when it comes to knowledge work? Cal Newport's work, The Minimalists, Essentialism: they all run into the same problem, which is that nobody seems to know what 'productivity' for knowledge workers means at all. You can look at a factory line and see which parts need greasing up, figuratively or literally: it is very difficult, on the other hand, to look at the work of a self-contained writer and tell her where she is going 'wrong'. (And by 'wrong', I mean - slow.) And language learning is an even more particular subset of that particular subset of work.

You could judge a novelists' productivity two ways: by the 'busyness' of her daily writing routine, or the amount of novels she produces. But what exactly is being produced when we learn a language? What is the end product?

In some ways, language learning as a hobby is even more playful than traditionally thought of arts and crafts. (By 'play' I mean something which is done for its own sake, and which is pleasurable, and which may yield next to no monetary reward.) We might think of the poet as sitting on a tree and dangling his feet in the river, a vision of artful indolence, but at the end of the day there is output - a poem. A knitter has a jumper. A potter has a pot. But language learning doesn't follow this [work] + [time] = [tangible output] structure. We can't even use the second metric of 'productivity' to measure it at all. Something is being done, of course - I can learn to speak Greek, and speak it markedly better after two months than one - but my point is you can't look at a day's work and say, this is exactly how much I learnt. Learning is not memorisation in the short term - it's receiving input, and practicing how to wield and use a structure. It doesn't happen over the course of a ten-minute podcast.

Learning happens - encoding happens - when the brain is doing other things. In other words, much like every creative process, you need downtime. You need rest, and sleep, and fun, and brightness and joy in your life. You might 'remember' a bunch of words on Anki, but you need to sleep before you can review them again: that's the whole point.

There is a much wider problem here, a culture of goals and optimising your life and glowing up, and to be honest, I find it disturbing. I think that for a very long time my language learning metrics were a stand-in, a relic, for the kinds of unhealthy and obsessively perfectionist thinking that gave me an eating disorder. How many of us truly believe - genuinely, with every inch of our heart - that we are better people if we 'better' ourselves? Learn more. Exercise more. Study more. How do you feel about yourself at the end of a day, exhausted, because you've completed day 75/100? Do you feel better about yourself because you've achieved? I'm guessing that you do.

For many people - including for myself - this wider culture has spilled over into their hobbies. Hobbies like language learning in particular are a target for this because they are so easily quantifiable - and we are encouraged, if we want to succeed, to quantify them. How else will we know how to improve?

Over the last few years, after burning out, after living off grid and without wifi and doing extreme minimalism and a lot of other lifestyle experiments to try and understand why modern life is so fucking hard, it's become clear that most systems of 'productivity' measure 'optimisation' by getting the most done in a day, but they don't stop to question whether you should be doing those things at all.

They don't stop to ask: what matters? They don't stop to ask: why am I trying to write a novel, finish my dissertation, pursue a romantic relationship, get healthy, learn ice-skating, learn to cook, look after my aging parents, and learn guitar at the same time? They don't ask: how do I prioritise, and where do I find silence? They ask: how do I cram more time in the day? They don't ask: how do I slow time down? They don't ask: how can I know what matters, if I never give myself space to think?

In other words: 'productivity' in language learning is measured by 'busy-work', by how much you can see from the surface.

You can't measure how well the learning is going, exactly, but you can measure how many hours a day you show up and grind. Whether or not that struggle is the best use of your time, or whether you're spending the time on things that will truly bring you value and quality, is a different question altogether.

And it's not one most 'productivity culture' will ever ask.

There will be things in your language learning journey that, to borrow from self-help terminology, no longer serve you. Habits and relics and resources and mindsets that worked for you once, or no longer did. Those books that are too advanced that you feel like you 'should' be able to read. That textbook that's been sitting beside your bed for a year. That habit of scrolling social media in your target language that was helpful when you were at a more intermediate level, but does little for you now that you're advanced.

Take stock of these. Simplify. Do less, but do it better. Productivity culture never stops to ask: what can I do without? It always asks, instead: how can I do more? But maybe - just maybe - the way to do more is to focus on fewer things, but do them well.

Multi-tasking isn't multi-tasking, but switching quickly between different focuses of attention. The average American owns 300,000 things, and watches television for 4-5 hours a day. On average, if you are distracted, it takes you 20 minutes to reach the same level of deep focus: but the average American office worker opens an email within six seconds of receiving it. Are you any better with your phone? How much time do you spend there? If you meditate, that's wonderful, but do you have any time to let yourself think? To walk and to understand how to feel? I don't want to sound like a boomer, but: can you name the birds? Do you live in a place, not just a room?

Stop trying to be 'productive'. Do less. Do it well.

I am now facing a wall in my learning of Chinese, and I'm still not sure how to get around it. The reason for this is because so much of the advice I gave others around language learning, and so much of the advice I found online, is focused on this sort of optimisation. But I no longer want to be listening to something, to be watching something, every second of every day. I have a partner to love and a house to appreciate and I want to spend time, humming and pleasant, alone with my thoughts, and it's summer, dear diary, and I don't want to stay indoors. Routines can keep you afloat, but they can also drown you. Do something different. Do something new. Do something that is not productive, that produces nothing, idle away, walk to work without music and perhaps when you sit down to your language learning that evening, you'll be filled with a renewed vigour and love for it. Do it because you love it, not because you scheduled it in your calendar.

A lesson, related, from my martial arts teacher. He said:

If you are tired, do not train. If you do not train, rest. 'Rest' does not mean go on your phone.

The same principle applies here. If you are tired of learning, which you may well be, rest. Not going on your phone, not watching Netflix. I mean taking a walk and sitting under the tree and looking at the patterning of the sky. I mean lying with your dog and absently scratching his tummy. If you're tired, and you have the luxury to stop - stop. Let yourself be tired. Don't drink caffeine. Sleep.

Last year, I was able to write 340,000 words of fiction because I focused on one thing: writing my book. Apart from things that I literally needed to do to survive and maintain my health and relationships around me, I didn't set a single other to-do. My daily list looked like: write for three hours. Not a word limit. Not exercise, though I ended up doing that, not learning a language. I imagine that if I had tried to focus on Chinese at the same time that I wouldn't have achieved anywhere near half the result. I still learnt Chinese, a very decent amount - I went to China and Taiwan for three months in total! - but I did it because I wanted to, of a whim, on a Sunday, something fun. It wasn't a must, or anything I was forcing myself to do. Many days I didn't do any Chinese at all. It was so immensely freeing to be able to think, at 11am: I'm finished for today. Even when I was at work, because I knew I was just there to pay the rent, I felt serene. Stressed on a day-to-day level, certainly, because all work is stressful, but - there wasn't any striving. I just did the best I could. And that was enough.

I am writing this, now, as I come out of my first ever information-overload burnout. I've burnt out, but I've never experienced one of these before: even looking at a book, at a phone, physically hurt my eyes. I couldn't bear to listen to people speak and would lock myself away in my room. I physically felt I could not talk, and had to take extensive time off work. Even looking at a pen and a blank page was too much; listening to podcasts was too much; reading the instructions for dinner was too much too. The only way I could heal was by doing absolutely nothing at all. That period shocked me deeply, because it showed me how absolutely dependent I was on having some input of information all of the time. No wonder I was tired.

I know, now, that there are lots of movements built around this same idea, by frustrated learners all over the world: the growing realisation that metrics and Excel and polylogger and tracking tracking tracking can't be the only way to learn. That a list of the number of books you've read in one year is hardly indicative of how well you understood those books, and what you learned from them. You've read 20 books this year already - good job. When do you think about them? What time do you spend on reflection? Why did you choose those books? Which chapters, and which characters, hit you the hardest? Why?

Minimalism, deep work, 'monk mode', essentialism, every writer's dream to run away and write in a cabin in the woods, slow learning, Buddhism, Stoicism, Marie Kondo-ism, the art of less, project 333, my no-buy-year, slow fashion, slow food, slow travel:

What all of these philosophies have in common is the idea that doing things deliberately ('mindfully') means 1) doing things slowly, 2) doing things well, and 3) doing things one at a time.

I am now at a place in my life where I understand the value of time alone with my thoughts. I don't want to listen to podcasts every minute of the waking day, because I need time to think about them. I need time to let the ideas for my novel grow in the dark. Nothing can be heard in noise; so make space for silence. I am a member of the real, living, breathing world, and that means I cannot devote 8 hours a day to Chinese television shows like I could when I was 20. I have to call my father. I have to do the dishes. I want to flex my creative muscles in other ways. Alternatively - I no longer believe that my worth is tied up inherently with how well I do my hobbies.

You're just some guy. There's freedom in that. You, my friend - you suck <3

Let yourself be bad. Let yourself be mediocre. Let yourself 'slide backwards' or regress, because all that means is that you're putting focus somewhere else. It'll come back. It always does.

I'm no longer comfortable, therefore, with the way that the language learning community tackles productivity. Please don't misunderstand; a lot of us have time spare that we could use to do things 'better' for us. I know. But I just believe now that getting rid of things, like the time you spend on your phone, is going to be more helpful in the long run than trying to force yourself into some gruelling, achievement-centric regime that collapses from within after two months of struggle and self-flagellation.

The other realisation I have had is just how much happier I am spending more time being alive, really alive, and less time in front of a screen. For a language like German or Gaelic that's much easier, because you can study with books, but with Chinese you always have to study to some extent with audios, flashcards, computers. Especially if - like me - you can read novels without a dictionary, but cannot handwrite even your Chinese name. So where next?

I don't have any answers. I'm not sure how to pair the two things together, to be honest, because almost all of my language learning has traditionally made use of technology. It's all been goal-orientated, systems-orientated, and despite the fact that I've failed at using these systems every day for years, despite the fact that Anki has NEVER worked for me, despite the fact that I have spent hundreds if not thousands of pounds on courses here, there, a wealth of overwhelm and five thousand words saved on Pleco, did I read that right? Five thousand. No wonder I'm stressed.

Regardless of happiness, it's much easier to achieve a state of deep focus and work when you're not online. After my period of information burnout, I feel actual physical pain from the weight of choices online. It's exhausting. I'm watching a Chinese show, but I want to go on tumblr. I'm on tumblr, but I feel guilty for not watching the Chinese show. I'm constantly torn between doing this and that, never fully committing to anything, seeing a post by Lindie Botes and thinking, damn, she's good. I should be better. But I don't want to compare myself to her. Do you know what? She is good. I admire her immensely. But I don't want to judge my self-worth by some imagined scale of productivity anymore - and, the more time passes, the more I'm not sure what 'productivity' in the context of language learning even means.

Try slow, focused, deep learning. You might just find it works.

There's something refreshing, almost counter-cultural, anti-capitalist, anti-consumerist, anti-rat-race, about this thought. Slow learning. I think there's an answer here, somewhere. It's a problem I've been dancing around for a while; and do you remember how you learnt your first foreign language? For me, it was on the floor, absolutely absorbed in German comic books, flicking through the dictionary furiously and scribbling things down in a notebook. I only had one book, and one dictionary, and one grammar book. I want to go back to that sort of simplicity. There was joy in that.

One again: I don't have any answers. I don't know exactly what direction this blog is going to go in, as I wrestle with these sorts of meta-problems. I'd love to hear your thoughts. And for now, if there's one thing I'd like you to take away from this long and frankly absurdly rambling post (thank you for bearing with me!) it's an alternative answer for the question I get so often, about what you can do to learn the language when you're tired, because:

Yes, you could watch reality TV shows in Chinese, or you could give yourself permission to be human. You could rest.

Thanks guys. Meichenxi out <3

#langblr #language learning #languages #productivity #productivitytips #^ tagging it with all of the above so it reaches the target audience of stressed out 17 year olds #my dudes. my guys. you are loved. or if you are not now - you will be #all will be well

229 notes · View notes

daddyricsdoll · 6 months

Text

Hate but I love you too ✭ Ollie Bearman

Summary: From when he ignored you then nearly kissed your lips. Or never said sorry to begging for you. Oliver was a rollercoaster of emotions and it's safe to say- It took hate to love him.

Warnings: Unprotected sex.

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: Based off of a request. I'm sorry it took a while, quite a few things happened, but I enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading this too! (did change a few things)

“Hey Ollie” I smile at him as we walk toward our karts that sit only metres away from the other. “What do you want?” He turns his head toward me with furrowed brows. “Oh, I-um just came to say hi and good luck.” I try my best to keep a smile on my face as he grimaces. “Ok then, thanks I guess.” He mumbles under his breath before quickening his pace and rushing to his kart.

It did hurt to watch him leave because of me, but it wasn’t the first time and it never made me stop from approaching him again. And just like the first time, it happened the next, he would always find a way out, but I found another in. I had questioned his actions and dislike toward me, but never got the answer, or maybe the one I was looking for at least. So after setting the goal of speaking to him every time we were in the same premises, I eventually lost it. Moving up into F4 and giving him a smile, then F3 and little glares.

F3 was an interesting time, it was when we started to only focus on racing, relationships later, whether it was friendships or romantically, we could all agree we had some struggles. And then came the part I thought would be my happy ending, but U-turned straight out.

But then came a experience for all of us drivers to experience what a lot of kids our age do. So then came a party with nearly all the drivers on the grid, hosted by a driver, so you could expect it to be on the spectrum toward chaotic. It happened to start light, small talk and grabbing another drink, before people loosened up and with that came party games. The truth or dare and spin the bottle.

My hand lightly shook as I grabbed the bottle in hand, trying to estimate which person it would point toward. Hoping it would be the British boy that sat across from me, and this time he wouldn't walk away.

Everyone's eyes stuck on the bottle and when it pointed in between two people I looked up to see it was Ollie and Jak. Everyone started shouting out their opinions of who it shall be before they all voted, and it was Ollie. I watched many emotions cross his face as we both leant forward and our lips inched closer to the other.

I stopped moving, waiting for him to make the next move, his lips were so close that I could feel his breath against my skin and I closed my eyes as I waited for him to close the gap. My lips curled into a smile as I was sure I would finally feel him. But instead of his lips ultimately against mine, I felt cold as I lost his presence and then his voice that refused to kiss me. “I can’t kiss her, we’re both rivals and it might ruin the race tomorrow.”

I don’t say anything, but sit back in the circle, at long last, accepting my defeat. I watched as some conflict arose, people telling Ollie it’s just a game and it doesn’t mean anything, but then he fought back claiming he wouldn’t kiss anyone in the circle, and then the game ended.

I found somewhere to sit in sorrow but also bliss, at how close his lips came to mine, but then how he left. I was alone for a short while before Arthur Leclerc approached me. He wasn’t even part of F3 this year but said “I could never miss out on a party.” and then sat beside me while enlightening me with his jokes and bad english. From there me and Arthur became close, while the tension between me and Ollie grew. I secretly schemed ways in my head to get Ollie back, make him feel the way I felt, make him regret something or tempt him with something, make it come so close then take it from him. There was no denying I wanted that thing to be me, and that’s what held my plan back.

The next year we both were signed into teams on the F2 grid, he had the opportunity to be with Prema racing and me with ART grand prix.

After Jeddah, our rivalry started to grow realising we were the top two drivers fighting for the win each race, me getting the victory first and him second. Then came up Australia, a track we were all new to, but it didn’t mean we wouldn’t try as hard.

I led the race with Ollie right behind me, fighting around corners and defending on straights. We had 3 more laps left as our tires started degrading drastically and our cars lost the power they had earlier in the race. Speeding down the main straight and reaching turn 1 Ollies tire clipped mine and we both spun into the gravel.

Furrowed brows under my helmet as I got out of my car that would’ve taken me to the top of the podium if it weren’t for Oliver Bearman. I put my steering wheel back in and smack the halo, needing something to take my anger out before walking away with clenched fists. Oliver stands still and stares at me as I aim to stride past him, but instead I land directly in front of him but don’t say a word. Our helmets would’ve touched if it weren’t for our heights and although my visor was still on I knew he understood the emotions that ran through me at that moment. We stayed like that for what felt like minutes until I walked away with a brush against his shoulder and hand.

Every race after that there was a stronger battle between both of us, it was either me or him that won, and those few times we didn’t, the bottom two on the podium had our names on it.

Just like last year, there was a party held, but this time we were in F2 and I wasn’t tailing after him.

Me and Arthur walked in together dressed impeccably and proud. We had a good season together and maybe letting loose at this “party” might make this season better.

Since everyone on the grid was here, it would be inevitable to see Oliver. Whether it’s a good or bad thing, I kind of do want to see him, especially since after that crash, I’ve never been better and he doesn’t enjoy being under me, so I’ll have a great time.

It barely took 5 minutes until Arthur found Oliver and started a conversation, while I stood with Arthur people congratulated me on having dominance over the season so far and I just waited till Oliver would say it too. And to my surprise it didn’t take long. “Oh um, congratulations.” I hear him mumble under his breath. “Sorry I didn’t catch that, can you say that again?” I ask him, hiding my smirk with a confused look.

He gives me an annoyed smirk, knowing wholly what I was trying to do. “Congratulations.” He quickly says and watches a smile curl on my lips before walking away with one too. Me and Arthur somehow separate and I find another one of my favourite people on the grid–Juan. I immediately laughed as the first words he said were an enlightening joke, and we sat at the table and talked, it felt so short but apparently it wasn’t.

I excused myself to the bathroom but not without a short interruption. “Nice boyfriend, since when?” The oh so recognisable accent drew me out of my stride.

“Oh, Oliver? I never knew you had an interest in people's personal lives.” I sarcastically joked, but I gained no reaction from him.

“I never knew you had an interest in people so low in the championship.”

“Unlike you Oliver, I actually know how to interact with people whether they are high or low in the championship because I know they won’t ruin my race even if we’re rivals.” I try to add some of his words from that night in F3 while taking a step closer toward him and most definitely getting in his personal space. He doesn’t attempt to move back into the wall that he already rests on, but instead looks down at me with concentrated eyes staring into mine.

“How do you interact with people? Oh please show me. Is it actions before words?” I knew exactly what he was asking for so I step on my tippy toes to stand taller and he lifts his head to look straight forward at me, I move my face closer to his, just like he did that night. I feel the ghost of his hand along my hips as my parted lips hover over his. I breathe against his skin and feel him try to move closer to me just before I break away and walk back into the main room.

Losing my need for the bathroom I walk back with a smirk and see the same one of Arthur’s faces. We both found a seat next to each other and laughed as I told him what happened. Arthur couldn’t get over it and started making fun of Ollie from across the table. Sending him air kisses and chuckles.

And just like I hoped this night did make the season more enjoyable.

I walked out of the Prema garage as we were 15 minutes till lights out and me and Arthur had just spent the morning being stupid together. We still couldn’t get over last night and Arthur was just waiting to see Ollie again, which was definite thanks to them being teammates. But as Ollie walked in, I had to leave. I sent him a teasing smile and he looked away with his signature furrowed brows.

We all got in our cars and lined up on the grid, me and Oliver sharing the front row. Once the lights went out Ollie kept the lead and I trailed behind him, keeping the gap close. Halfway through the race there was a yellow flag which lasted a few minutes before we were back to racing. The yellow flag closed the gap between both of us by a lot and now we were wheel to wheel.

I had the inside line so we both knew what was going to happen. But just like Australia, our cars collide and our race ends in seconds. I was most definitely filled with the same emotions as Australia but I knew hitting the halo wouldn’t ease them. I don’t dare to walk close or past Oliver so I take the long way around and stride straight to my driver's room. I don’t speak to anyone on the way there and slam the door once I arrive.

It hadn’t even been a minute until I received an unexpected knock on my door. Everyone knew that when I was angry, it was best to leave me alone unless you were certain that you could make me feel better. So when I got up to answer the door I was surprised to see Oliver. Before I could say a word, he beat me to it. “I’m sorry.” I stood there confused trying to process the words he had just told me. “I-I hit something and I couldn’t control my car, I think you hit it too and then we both…”

“And you think sorry will fix what just happened? For the second time!”

“No, I don’t think it will fix everything, but maybe if you accept the apology then things might change.”

“What happened? So you start talking to me, and now you learn manners! What happened to ignoring me and sending glares or not talking because I’d ruin your race or maybe you just never liked me!”

“A lot happened! And I don’t know how to explain it, but don’t act like I’m the only one that changed! What happened to the smiles you would give me before the race or when you would walk with me on the track?”

“You ignored it Oliver! You never showed an interest and you knew what you did that one night. You really hurt me Ollie.”

“Well then please, give me a chance to fix it. I regret everything I ever did or didn’t do.”

“And why do you want to fix it now Oliver?”

“I… I realised something. I realised that I really enjoyed when you would talk to me! And that the reason I ignored you before races was because you would infiltrate my mind during the race like you do every day and night! And I really wanted you- I still want you!”

“Fuck it.” I mutter under my breath as my hand grabs his and pulls it into my room and shutting the door right behind him. I had spent so long wondering what his lips would feel like, and now I know, they are the definition of paradise, my paradise. And his hands finally against my body did more than just touch my skin, they touched my mind and I tried to engrave the feeling into me. We broke the kiss and I looked into his eyes, irises being eaten by his pupils. Once my eyes landed on his neck, my lips did too. Placing hickeys all over his skin and moaning at the sound of his hushed groans.

“Is this what you wanted, Oliver?” I ask him against his skin. I don’t get words as an answer but little whines instead. My hands go to the top of his racing suit and I start unzipping it, soon pulling it down his body. Ollie starts to help me, mirroring my actions and seconds later we both stood in just our fireproofs. I couldn’t bear to still see him in clothes so my hands pulled his top off and my hands travelled along his unclothed chest.

“Come on Oliver, I’m not the one that has to fix this.” I mumble against his lips with a smirk. His hands then grip the back of my thighs and pull my body up against his. My legs wrap around his body like it’s not the first time and he lays me down on the small driver's bed.

“Is it too hard to finish what you started?” He whispers against my skin as he pulls my pants down my legs and they land on the ground. I sit up and lean forward to slide his pants down his legs so he can help ease the need between my legs. And once his pants sit next to mine, I have to clench my thighs together for at least some friction.

“Would you like to watch me finish what I started?” I ask and before I gain an answer I swap our positions, I replace my body on the bed with his and I stand in front of him. I barely give him any time to react as I crawl onto his lap. And then in seconds I lower onto his dick. Emitting a loud moan from his perfect lips, one that’s louder and longer than my own.

“I guess I’ll take first place again, on your list of best people you’ve fucked.”

“Fuck, oh, you’re the only one on the list.” He somehow manages to grit through his teeth. His words do something to me, and I start to work harder, his hips also coming to meet mine.

“Good, let’s keep it that way.” I occupy my lips with his and we capture each other’s moans. It didn’t take long until we were both moments away from coming, and it was like we had planned it together as we simultaneously came. I started riding both of our highs out until he grabbed my body again and flipped us over.

My back hit the soft bed and his hands slid along my hips as he started ramming into me. My whole body moved and it was something I didn’t expect from Oliver, but luckily I now enjoy the unexpected. We both cursed under our breath and out loud as our second climax was inching closer. I clenched around his dick and traced the delicacy of his body as I let myself feel everything that he was giving to me.

His eyes that remind me of autumn glint down into mine before I have to shut my eyes as my back arches and I cum onto his dick for the second time. I wait for the disparate feeling of him releasing in me again and whine when it finally happens.

He then lets out a long sigh and lays down onto me, body enveloping mine as he stays inside of me. “This was more than what I wanted.” He breathes out and then lays beside me, resulting in feeling the emptiness between my legs but oh so satisfied.

“Have I fixed what was broken?” He asked me.

“Maybe, but this is the first step.” I turn toward him and smile before he smiles back. This was more than I hoped and certainly more than I expected. So to sum it up, Ollie is many things and emotions, maybe I had to go through the dislike to savour and realise how much the like is worth. So Oliver, you made me want to stab you, but heal your wounds. Drown you, but part the ocean so you can walk through. You made me hate you, but love you too.

#ollie bearman imagine #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman fluff #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman #ollie bearman smut #f2 fanfic #f2 fluff #f2 fic #f2 smut #f2 #oliver bearman #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #prema racing

403 notes · View notes

bangtanflirt · 9 months

Text

(Un)natural Instincts (Part 7)

*Series taglist is closed.

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, future smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: none aside from what's in general warnings

____

You don’t want to wake up. It might be a new day, but yesterday’s fatigue still seeps into both your bones and brain, like a hangover without the fun of drinking. And it’s Saturday, which means you can’t sleep in until Yoongi leaves for work. You might have melted into his touch last night, but now that you’re a lot less hazy and emotional, the events of yesterday cause a resurgence of anxiety in your stomach. His last sentence rings crisp in your ear.

You’re my best friend.

Best friend yet he couldn’t have one proper conversation before berating you in front of everyone? Your fears keep growing and rumbling inside, fears that he does hate you, and that the only reason he’s sticking around is because of his mother’s bills—just like he stuck around for his old boss. Did he see you the same way he saw him? If he could work under someone like that for years and put up with it…what’s to say he wasn’t just putting up with you? Saying whatever he thinks you want to hear?

And there’s also Taehyung and Hoseok—getting mad at them feels equivalent to kicking a puppy. Well with Hoseok, you’re more disappointed than actually angry. You really wish he hadn’t lied like that, but your heart hurts thinking about how much he’s been through to get to that point.

All you want to do is stay in bed all day and avoid the aftermath of last night, and that’s exactly what you plan on doing until you hear the little knock at the door.

“It’s unlocked” you mumble, rolling over to see who it is and what excuse you have to make to not leave your bed. In peaks a mop of light brown hair, timidly walking in wearing a rather messy apron.

“I made breakfast, everyone else is at the table already.” It’s not the chipper tone he had yesterday morning, but rather a jittery one.

“I’m not in the mood to eat.” You pull the covers up, hinting for the boy to leave. But he stays right there, making tiny noises with his feet as he nervously shuffles from one foot to the other. You pull the cover down to raise a brow at him.

“I said I wasn’t hungry Jimin.”

“W-we just want one last meal with you…please.”

“Last meal? What are you talking about?”

He looks like he’s ready to cry at any moment. “We all know you want us gone as soon as possible…a-and we don’t blame you! Just one last meal before the shelter, please?”

Shit, you’re going to have to get out of bed after all.

___

It’s clear everyone uneasy around you, dodging eye contact as you sit at the table. Yoongi’s the only one who meets your gaze, but now you’re the one looking down at your omelet instead. It’s clear whatever was “resolved” last night was a just temporary band aid for a much deeper wound.

“This isn’t working. Things need to change.”

They wolves nod half-heartedly, knowing exactly where this is going.

“You guys can’t just assume that I’m going to ship you off to some shelter the second I’m mad. It makes me feel like I can’t even be angry without scaring you, and that’s not fair. I should be able to be upset without feeling like the asshole here.”

It takes a few seconds of mechanical nodding before your words actually sink in, causing them to look up and around in shock, mentally asking each other if they heard that right.

“We can stay? Even after last night?” The Alpha has to hear you explicitly say it before his packmates get their hopes up.

“Yes Namjoon. No one’s going to any shelter, even after last night. That doesn’t mean I’m not mad at Taehyung, because I am. That book was very important to me, and he shouldn’t have been so careless,”

The guilt is still fresh on the wolf’s face, and it’s clear he wants to apologize again, but the words are stuck in his throat.

“and Hoseok, no more lying. Whatever’s on your mind, you have to be honest and let us help you.”

“Yes, absolutely! I-I’ll be honest. I’ll be good!”

“You don’t have to be good. You’re not being evaluated here. No one’s sending you away for being ‘bad,’ but rather we all need to be accountable for when we mess up. That’s how things work here, everyone clear?”

All six hybrids are quick to respond, each feeling lighter after knowing that this isn’t their last day here. It’s Namjoon who your words leave the deepest impression on, the word accountability being played over and over again. It’s a word he likes. Punishment is for pets, but accountability? That’s for people.

Taehyung’s thoughts could not be more different.

Punishment is familiar. He knows how to bite down and stay still with each hit, knows how to cope with the binder clips on his tongue, knows how to huddle up and ration warmth every time he’s locked in the time-out room, but he has no clue how to do what you’re asking of him. He probably knew before the lab, right? But those memories feel like years ago, even if it’s only been a few months. All that’s really clear in his head are the commands and the punishments, and he wishes for nothing more than for you to toss him in your wine cellar with no food for a week. He doesn’t say anything though, not wanting to ruin the mood now that everyone else can finally breathe around you again.

“This omelet is heavenly. I’ve never had one seasoned in this way. What’s in it?”

Jimin beams at the mention of his omelet, listing off spices and vegetables at the speed of lightning.

“It’s actually Jin hyung’s recipe! Hyung, tell her how you came up with it!”

The oldest’s ears go red at the attention, and he laughs shyly before telling you of his experimenting ways in the kitchen. Your little praises in between only cause the redness to deepen, until his ears are the same color as the tomatoes diced into today’s breakfast.

It’s once again Jimin and Jin getting the attention. Getting to talk to you, be praised by you, and not have to spill eight thousand apologies. Caretaker hybrids who don’t mess up every task they’re given. Suddenly the omelet is leaving a bitter taste in Taehyung’s mouth.

___

“I want to apologize again.”

You let him in, closing the door.

“I just really wish you would’ve talked to me before jumping to conclusions. Did you really think I was capable of that…in the two years that you’ve known me?”

“I just—I didn’t know he could lie. Didn’t know it was possible with all those fake hormones in him…thought he had to be honest all the time or some shit like that…so I lost my temper, and I know how wrong it was of me. I really am sorry y/n.”

“If what you said was solely about me and him then maybe I could have chalked it up to some big misunderstanding, but that’s not all that happened, and you know it. The shit you said about servants and yes-men…being tired of coddling me…I know those words came from somewhere inside of you. That’s what hurts.”

He combs his fingers through his hair in frustration, saying nothing. The longer he’s silent…the more your anxieties turn into rage, defense systems on high alert.

“Oh, so I’m right? Spit it out.”

“Y/n.”

His eyes are pleading for any way out of this conversation, but you’re not having any of that today.

“No, say it. Go ahead, stop coddling me, as you’ve been doing all this time apparently.”

He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath before looking at you again, room silent enough to hear both of your hearts beating.

“Going to work yesterday…everyone was in such a good mood. It was the first time since I’ve began working at Shin Investments where the atmosphere felt so…light?”

You wish you hadn’t asked. In fact, you wished he rather punched you in the gut than say what he just said.

“I already know everyone at work hates me, Yoongi. Might as well bring my grandmother’s book back out if today’s all about rubbing salt on existing wounds.”

“It’s not about that y/n. I’m not trying to hurt you, but you need to hear it from someone. The way you act at the office…it puts everyone on edge. And no I don’t think it’s wrong when it’s the board members we’re talking about, because I know how sleazy and cunning they can be. But the receptionists? The interns? The wait staff at the office restaurant? All the people that are just trying to do their jobs? What about all the times you’ve humiliated them? Or worse, fired them right on the spot for one thing you didn’t like?”

You can’t help but cross your arms, needing to feel protected in some way, even if it’s only words attacking you.

“Do you think I like being the bitch? You of all people know I don’t go home and laugh after making someone else cry. I thought, because of your old job at least, that you’d understand to some extent. Sometimes you have to be the bad guy. I’m stressed every day about my father coming out of retirement, or someone on the board becoming the major stockholder, or five hundred other things that could go wrong. So I’m very fucking sorry if I need to play the bitch to keep things under control.”

“I don’t know if that excuse is enough anymore.” It’s barely a whisper, more to himself than you.

God you just want to be swallowed by the carpet right now.

“What?”

“It isn’t enough. It used to be, because yes I did do shitty things under my old boss and yes I thought I had no right to judge anyone else because of that, but I got out of there y/n. At some point I stopped making excuses and feeling sorry for myself and got out of there because I didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore. And I know you can do better, that you can change too.”

“You…you don’t get it…”

You don’t get that the second I let my guard down, they’ll all jump at me like piranhas. I can never be the soft, sweet person you think you can fix me into.

“and honestly you shouldn’t even be working for me anymore. It’s more obvious than ever that you do hate me, so just turn your resignation letter to Minhyun and move out of here. The less of me you see the better.”

You’re about to open the door to make him leave, but a hand on your shoulder halts you.

His gaze is softer, as is his voice. “I’m not going anywhere, not away from the company or you.”

“If this is about your mom’s bill—”

“It’s not. I don’t hate you, and I do think of you as my best friend. Which is why I want us to figure this out together instead of running away from it. Look, I’m not saying you can’t be mad at me. I know I deserve it for blowing up the way I did, and I’m going to keep apologizing and making it up to you until you forgive me. But the things I’m saying right now, it’s because I care about you…a lot.”

___

Accountability.

The word completely fills Taehyung’s brain as he paces a hallway in god-knows-what part of the ginormous house. Searching by scent is what finally gets Namjoon to track down the fretting wolf. Taehyung doesn’t even notice, too busy letting his anxiety gnaw away at him. It’s only when Namjoon blocks his pathway does the younger wolf look up.

“Oh, hi hyung.”

“Hi Tae,” he looks down past the hybrid’s face, “oof, let me see those hands.”

Taehyung shamefully puts his hands up for his Alpha to take in,

“I told you biting your claws isn’t a good habit.”

“Sorry Alpha.”

He flashes a warm smile, dimples working overtime to try to soothe his packmate’s nerves.

“It’s alright pup. I know how stressed you are.”

“I just—I just don’t know how to fix the mess I’ve made, and I want to burst out crying every time she looks at me now, but I can’t because I don’t want her to think I’m trying to get out of it by crying either. I just don’t know what to do.”

Namjoon pulls Taehyung in, tucking the wolf under his chin.

“You’re not alone in this. I’ve been thinking about different ways you could make it up to her, and I think I know one. It’s not perfect, but it might make her less angry. And it involves something you love to do.”

Taehyung pulls back to look up, brows raised all the way up in curiosity. Namjoon wastes no time in coming up with the game plan, telling Taehyung exactly what materials he needs to gather and what he needs to do. He watches fondly as the younger wolf’s expression becomes much more cheerful, hope coming back into his eyes.

“That might actually work! Thank you thank you thank you!!!!”

He doesn’t forget to plant one kiss on his Alpha’s cheek before running away excitedly to start his task.

“Careful! Don’t run!”

Namjoon can’t help but laugh at the way Taehyung only barely slows down.

Okay, one down. One more to go.

He knows his conversation with Hoseok isn’t going to end in smiles, because he has no solution to offer his hyung. Only apologies. The wolf is sitting out in the garden, zoned out in front of your flowers, when Namjoon’s presence pulls him back. He takes a seat too, taking a moment to admire the flowers before speaking up.

“I owe you an apology.”

It’s clear that’s not what Hoseok is expecting to hear.

“You do?”

Namjoon nods, “I haven’t been doing the best job at being your Alpha lately.”

“That’s ridiculous, you’re the best Alpha our pack could have.”

“I’m not talking about the pack, hyung. I’m talking specifically about you. I haven’t been the best Alpha to you. You were hurting all alone and didn’t even feel like you could tell me the truth, and I know it’s my fault. You always seem so…put-together…so self-sufficient y’know? A lot of the time I just let you do your thing and focus on the other members instead. But I see how wrong that is of me. You need to be taken care of just as much as Taehyung or Jimin or anyone else, and I’m going to make sure that happens from now on.”

“I’m sorry too, for lying, and for bottling everything up. I know it’s hard to be my Alpha, I’m not the best at showing when something’s wrong the way the rest of them are. It’s really not your fault though.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that.”

The two stay on the bench for a while, eyes darting between every bee that the flowers draw in.

___

“It’s Jungkook. Can I come in?”

He opens the door at your approval, taking in your distressed features.

“Um, I can come back later.”

“No no, I’m fine. I was just answering some difficult work emails,” you lie through a smile, “What did you want to see me about?”

He pauses to fish something out of his pocket, looking victorious when he holds up his little notepad.

“I finished Extraordinary Attorney! I wanted to fill you in like you asked!”

If there’s anything that can even remotely soothe your hurting heart, it’s the sight of an excited Jungkook flashing his more-bunny-than-wolf teeth.

“Now’s the perfect time, come, sit.” You motion next to you and he wastes no time cuddling up to your side, bursting with excitement to tell you every plot point. He walks you through everything: dancing through revolving doors, an extensive history about whales, and a handshake he insists you try with him. You don’t even notice two hours pass as you’re laughing and invested the whole way through.

“Thank you darling. I really needed this.”

He preens at the nickname, snuggling closer into you.

“Hard day?”

“Yeah, and it’s only eleven a.m.”

“Is it because of Tae and Hobi hyung?”

“More about Yoongi if I’m being honest.”

“I didn’t like the way he spoke to you last night.”

“That makes two of us. But I prefer it to what he said today.”

Jungkook sits up, eyes wide, “He was meaner today?”

“No, just said some things I really didn’t want to hear.”

“Well if you need him to, Namjoon hyung can beat him up for you.”

You throw your head back laughing, the statement even funnier due to his completely serious, deadpan delivery.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

___

He has to be in one of these rooms.

You open one door after another, making your way around from one side of the mansion. You haven’t seen Taehyung since breakfast, and it’s already 4pm now. Namjoon had assured you he was fine when you questioned why he wasn’t at lunch, saying he’d be eating alone today as he had something to do. But what could he possibly have to do? You can’t help but think he’s bawling his eyes out in one of the spare rooms, feeling too bad to eat or talk to anyone. Yes, you want him to have some sort of remorse for what he did, but the thought of him being miserable brings you no satisfaction.

You’re about to check another room when Namjoon quickly makes his way over, putting himself between the door and you.

You give a questioning look, “Is Taehyung behind that door?”

“Yes, but please don’t go in.”

You examine his face, becoming even more confused. There’s no concern in his eyes, making you think the caretaker hybrid isn’t crying on the other side of the door.

“Why?”

“It’s a surprise. Could you trust me on this? Please?”

He knows it’s a risky ask. You could easily laugh at his face, making it clear that humans and hybrids operate on commands and obedience, not trust. There’s nothing stopping you from giving a direct command for him to open the door right now.

You mull it over in your head, concluding that if Taehyung was in any sort of trouble, Namjoon would look much more stressed right now.

“Alright. I won’t ask.”

The Alpha can’t help the little smile that peaks through. He can’t help but feel as if he’s being a little greedy, pushing the boundaries of what autonomy you’ll allow him to have—but it’s so tempting to desire more, especially thinking back to how different things were at the lab.

Instead of turning around to leave, you decide to ask him to come out with you. You need some fresh air, but being alone with your thoughts is not something you’re sure you can handle at the moment.

“Do you want to take a walk with me? It’s not a command so feel free to say no.”

His face lights up instantly, “I’d love to. It’s a really nice day.”

The two of you make your way over, making a quick stop at your closet where you remember the new jackets you’d bought for them. You pull out a long maroon one, perfect size for the tall wolf. In another life, he would’ve been a model with legs that long. You smile as he checks himself out in the mirror, really feeling the outfit it seems. Just as you’re about to reach for the front door, a timid Jin stops both of you.

“Where are you guys going?”

“Just out for a walk.”

He looks at you with concern, so you elaborate.

“We won’t take long, and Yoongi’s here if you need anything.”

“It’s not that…”

There’s a moment of silence, neither you nor Namjoon understanding what the problem is.

Until you follow Jin’s gaze…all the way to Namjoon’s neck.

Fuck.

You forgot one of the strictest hybrid laws:

Owned hybrids must be collared and leashed when out walking in public areas.

It seems Namjoon has this realization a couple seconds after you, face going from confident glow to despondency in a second.

It’s a crisp wake-up call. A reminder how stupidly naive his dreams of becoming independent all are.

At the end of the day, I’ll always be seen as a pet.

“I…I forgot...I’m so sorry Namjoon. We don’t have to go.”

He shakes his head, “No, it’s fine. I’d still like to go.”

He tries to hide his disappointment as best as he can, standing firm. You shouldn’t have to be burdened with his feelings—an Alpha isn’t supposed to make anyone worry about him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Do you have a collar and leash?”

You nod, admitting to have the items makes you feel like you’re guilty of a heinous crime.

“I got them for each of you when I was shopping…just in case anyone wanted to go out.”

It’s the truth. The only reason you got them was after reading up hybrid laws, making sure to keep some in case they ever wanted to go outside. But that doesn’t mean it feels right saying it.

Namjoon shivers as you click the dark blue collar around his neck, contrasting stark against the white bandages underneath. You notice the way he stiffens as it’s on, but he assures you each of the twenty times you ask him if he wants it off. It doesn’t hurt against the wounds perse, more just uncomfortable friction. The real hurt is to his ego at the thought of being collared again.

At least this one doesn’t have needles. He tries to find the glass half full.

You miss the conversation Jin and Namjoon are having throughout the ordeal. It’s not with words, but rather their eyes. With Jin asking his packmate if he’s sure he’s okay, and the Alpha lying convincingly enough for Jin to drop the subject.

___

It’s clear you’ve never done this before with the awkward way you’re holding the leash. If you’re feeling this way, you can’t imagine how much worse it is for Namjoon—how humiliating it would feel to be walked out in public in this way. You’re trying to think of any solution, maybe wrapping your scarf on him and tucking the leash in under his jacket…but that would only make things worse. Namjoon is, as clear as day, a wolf hybrid, and there’s no doubt a fleet of cops would come at the slightest alert of a wolf who doesn’t look leashed.

The streets are relatively empty today, but the few people you do pass try to walk past Namjoon as quickly as possible.

“Thank you for coming out with me. I’m sorry it has to be like this.”

He gives a small smile that doesn’t fully reach his eyes, “It’s okay. It’s not like you make the laws.”

The two of you walk silently for a while, both lost in your own thoughts while pretending to look around and appreciate the scenery. You’re the one who breaks the silence—quite abruptly.

“What do you do when your pack doesn’t listen to you?”

Namjoon looks caught off guard for a moment, before processing your question.

“I find the cause of why they aren’t listening. They aren’t the type to act up because they can. Once I figure out the reason, I can get them back in line.”

“They’re never too stubborn?”

“Not typically. They respect me and the hierarchy enough to know better,”

Inherent respect. Must be nice.

“but that’s just part of it” he goes on, “the main thing is that they know that everything I do is with their benefit in mind.”

He’s quick to notice the sour face you make at that sentence.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” you sigh “I just don’t think I’ve been doing that last part pretty well.”

It sucks to admit, but it is true that you can get a bit narrow in your focus when it comes to work—only thinking about how to benefit yourself.

“I don’t always get it right either. If it’s any consolation, you’re doing it pretty well when it comes to the pack and me. You’ve shown us more compassion in three days than we’ve seen in three months.”

Your eyes soften. It does console you a bit, reminding you that you are capable of compassion—that you aren’t a complete lost cause. You ask the next question plaguing your mind.

“Are there ever times when you have to lead them even though they aren’t happy with you?”

“Oh plenty of times. I’m constantly telling them things they don’t want to hear.”

“And when it feels like it’s all falling apart?”

“Then I have to change my approach.”

“What if you’re not the problem?”

He stops for a moment, bending down to admire a particularly beautiful flower in a patch of grass.

“Most things are my fault. No matter which packmate messes up, it can nine times out of ten be traced back to some way I failed to communicate with or lead them. And even when it’s not, I still need to step up. That’s just how it works when you’re trusted to be the Alpha.”

There’s a pregnant pause as you soak in his words, before letting out a frustrated groan.

“Leadership. That’s what you’re describing. And accountability. Can you believe I lectured you all about it this morning only to be so shit at doing it myself?”

“It sounds like you’re trying. You wouldn’t be asking me all this if you weren’t.”

“How do you know exactly what to say?”

“Lots of practice with five very different wolves” he smiles.

“You’re an amazing person Joon. I hope you know that.”

It’s almost overwhelming. Your sweet words, the loving nickname his pack uses, being called “person” instead of “mutt.” The collar and leash serve as a reminder of servitude and ownership, but the way you talk to him goes against everything they symbolize. Everything feels so conflicting. Will the two of you ever truly be equals?

____

A/N: My brain is kind of mush today so nothing more to say than I hope you're week is going well.

Permanent Taglist: @skyys-universee @morelovefortn @seagulljk @shadowyjellyfishfest @m4gg13-g

Series Taglist [CLOSED]: @welcometomyworld13 @kalala22 @fxirytaetae @btsfluffsworld @belikejk @shycreationdreamland @danielle143 @singukieee @blackrockshooter780 @g-b-artist @i-have-no-life-charlie @sopemee @no-regrets-just-confusion @acciocriativity @ldysmfrst @amara-mars @caelumwrites @estrellaburnxd @borahaetelevision @on-1ce @fuckthinking @jaiele

#bts hybrid au #bts hybrid x reader #poly ot7 #ot7 x reader #hurt/comfort #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #unnatural instincts

964 notes · View notes

blossomthepinkbunny · 2 months

Text

Vivzepop will always be the biggest issue with her own show if she doesn't change. And i'm not saying that because I desperately want to shit on her but rather because it's so clear that her attitude is what made Hazbin Hotel be so dissapointing after the long wait. The pilot released four years ago and Viv had these characters for much longer than that. One could assume that with this much time on her hands she would have a concise plan for how a series of her story would play out (I can imagine that having an own show is a dream for lots of creative people out there). And I get that that plan might get screwed up by a shorter episode count then expected, but she should be the one who knows her story best and who should know what stuff could also be cut out. The first season of Hazbin Hotel is so incredibly overstuffed with characters and plot that it completely looses the main premise the show was originally pitched with (the idea of a hotel were sinners are redeemed. As it is now the hotel is really not important at all). People have talked endlessly about how Viv can't handle criticism and it really sucks because criticism is one of the best ways to improve your writing, drawings, music etc. Without criticism you won't refine the thing you're working on in a meaningful way. Of course it feels bad when you put something out there you wanted to share and then people critique it, but that's part of pretty much every creative journey, or atleast it should be and Vivzepop shouldn't get a pass from this just because she doesn't like it. And there are great shows, movies or books that are rarely or almost never criticised. But the artists behind these works probably went trough years of honing what they do by being criticised for the stuff they put out. And I don't want to say that Vivzepop didn't work hard to make Hazbin Hotel, but it is hard to claim that she improves in her craft, when everytime someone says they don't like her show she throws a hissy fit. She wants the same reactions that these other amazing pieces of media get without ever listening to criticism. Which she sees as a personal attack rather than a tool that could help her to achieve the same level of writing prowess the creators behind media like that have. She believes she is already on the same level as them, just because she basically shuts anyone out who disagrees with her. There's this clip at the end of a Drew Gooden Video which I think sums up the situation with Viv pretty good (the Video is called "Leaving the YouTube Bubble"). He is talking about Lily Singh and her talk show but I feel like a lot of the stuff he says about handling criticism applies to Vivzepop as well.

(you might have to turn up the audio).

Unprofessional behaviour like that might be excusable when the creator is pretty young or they are interacting with publicity for the first time really. But neither of that applies to Viv. And Hazbin Hotel isn't just an indie animation pilot on youtube anymore. It's now a fully realized show created with a pretty prominent studio on a major streaming network and it should be held to the same standards as other shows or movies alike (not saying indie animation or animation on youtube doesn't have a standard but with more budget and support, there's obviously going to be different expectations for the show now). There have been issues in Helluva Boss and the Hazbin Hotel pilot ever since their release which could've been handled with more time and the new show. But Vivzepop shows time and time again that she isn't willing to listen to people who criticise her, which could actually lead to her show getting better. I don't like Viv or her work a lot. I think she is incredibly unprofessional and she has done her fair share of questionable or problematic stuff, which often leads to issues in her shows. There have been some characters I like, some songs or scenes that were pretty well done, very cool animation and an actually interesting premise on paper in HH and HB. There are things that make me come back to these shows to watch the next episode. And i'm obviously passionate enough about these shows to make whole posts about what I think was done badly and what could be changed. But for the aspects of HH or HB I enjoy, there are soo many more problems I have with it. Problems that won't go away unless Viv stops seeing every criticism as a personal attack. Because if Vivzepop doesn't stop acting like her writing is some unreachable stuff that needs no changes I don't really see a point in assuming that these shows will ever get better.

#vivzepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #i dont support vivziepop

169 notes · View notes

thepenultimateword · 12 days

Text

Writing Challenge!

Hello, everyone! As I mentioned a few days ago, I am hosting another writing challenge! I loved reading what everyone came up with in the last challenge I hosted, so I’m excited to see more cool stories this time around!

What is the challenge?

The premise for this challenge is fairytales! In this challenge I will assign everyone who decides to participate two fairytales! You then must write your own adaptation that combines the two stories together. This can be done anyway you like—for example you can keep it in its original setting, tell it in a fairytale style, modernize it, change its genre, swap character roles, etc.—but the fairytales must be at least somewhat recognizable

Is there a deadline?

To make this more of a challenge, there will of course be a deadline! That deadline is July 1st, giving you until the end of the month to write your story! Because this challenge is individual, there’s nothing wrong with going over the deadline; meeting it on time will just give you a sense of accomplishment. It will also just be fun to flood the feeds with fairytales that day!

How do I join and is there a time limit for joining?

If you would like to join the challenge, send me a message, and I will start sending out fairytale combos (which I will choose through a randomizer) sometime in the morning of June 11th (Mountain Standard Time).

The individualness of this challenge also means that anyone can join at any time throughout the challenge, just know that you will still have the same deadline as everyone else.

Does this challenge have any conditions?

This challenge is open to anyone who wants to join whether this is your first time writing or you’re an established writblr.

There is also no specific word-count requirement for this challenge. It can be as short or as long as you like as long as you get your fairytales across.

I’m also not going to restrict what people choose to write, just make sure if you write something with themes that could cause someone discomfort that you tag it appropriately, that way everyone knows which stories they feel comfortable reading.

Other Details

In order to make finding everyone’s stories easier, when you post your story on July 1st, use the tag #ficsandfables. That way, even if you aren’t being followed by all the participants, everyone can find your story.

Also, feel free to reach out to me if you have any issues with the fairytales you are assigned. If for some reason you just really aren’t vibing with your given fairytales, we can see about switching them out. But please only do this if you are really struggling, not just because you have a preference, part of the fun of the challenge is writing an adaptation you might not have thought of doing otherwise.

You may choose for yourself whether you want to keep your fairytale combo a surprise or not. If you don’t mind people knowing ahead of the deadline, feel free to brainstorm with others if you need to!

Most importantly have fun with this!

P.S. Because I don’t know how many participants we will end up with, and there are a limited number of fairytales (at least immediately recognizable ones) some people will probably end up with one of the same fairytales as another, but I will try to avoid anyone getting the exact same combo.

#creative writing #writing challenge #writeblr #writblr #writers of tumblr #fiction #sci-fi #fantasy #hero x villain #fairytale #fairytales #fairytale adaptations #adaptation #writing prompt #prompt #short prompt #short story

90 notes · View notes

ishimondoevents · 1 month

Text

Here are the prompts. Thank you to everyone who contributed ideas to this! The list will be written down below the cut with some ideas for those who want a little elaboration, a little help brainstorming, or simply understand how loosely prompts can be interperted!

Please make sure to check out the RULES AND F.A.Q. so we can have a smooth week.

July 14th: Family / Dates

July 15th: Promise / Sickness

July 16th: Roleswap / Seasons

July 17th: Competition / Future

July 18th: Talentswap / Gifts

July 19th: Confessions / Soulmates

July 20th: Free Day*

* For the Free Day, you are free to use a prompt that you hadn't used on one of the previous days if you would prefer a specific prompt to follow.

Remember— these are just ideas to help with brainstorming, you are not limited to interpreting the prompts in just these ways.

Family: You could choose to interpret this as being in relation family members (canon or head cannoned) for a scenario like meeting the in-laws; or them building one of their own (with pets, fan kids, v3 kid AUs, etc). Another angle could be a reflection on their own childhoods, with a focus on their family life/dynamics to tie it back to the prompt.

Dates: Quite a few options to go with, off the top of my head: first dates, blind dates, double/group date, fake dating, or even a study date lol. This could also be interpreted in the sense of important dates like birthdays, anniversary, etc.

Promise: This one might be a tad bit easier on the writers since all you'd need to really do to meet the prompt is throw in one 'promise between men', but you can definetly get creative with it. You could go a more canon route of 'I'll build your house bro' or 'We'll get out of the killing game alive' to anything else you could think of, big or small— perhaps even broken promises (as serious or silly as you'd like, e.g. 'you promised you'd stop speeding')

Sickness: Just a few ideas besides a literal cold— lovesickness (figurative or more literal like a hanahaki AU), a despair disease scenario, or a mental health day.

Roleswap: Anything that generally swaps the canon role would apply here. So Protagonist AUs, Mastermind AU, Survivor/Future Foundation AUs would all be applicable here. Remnants of Despair AUs may also apply, see the elaboration given in the Talentswap section.

Seasons: Take this as liberally as you'd like. Focus on one season or all; focus on seasonal activities like going to the beach, a seasonal school vacation; or a seasonal holiday/festival, just to offer a few different ways you could try and meet this prompt.

Competition: With how competitive these two are, hopefully this won't end being too restrictive. Be this between the two of them, one rooting for the other for sports/other extracurricular activities, or a double date scenario with someone as competitively spirited. You could also stick to more canon moments for reference like the Sauna Scene or the race between Mondo and Daiya.

Future: You could do something with Futuristic themes like cyborgs/androids/etc. Or more broadly approach the prompt with discussions of the future (v3 talentplan style), or in settings where they're older (be that 30 or 80, however you wish to interpert it).

Talentswaps: The difference from the roleswap Is that the former implies the talent isn't changed, just the role within the story. A talentswap may change several factors, but most notably the talent. So whether you're swapping just the talents between the THH cast or swapping game premises as well (e.g. v3 au with SHSL Inventor Oowada), all of that would be better suited here. Remnants of Despair AUs could go here if it's a talent swap that includes SDR2's general premise, but if the talents were to remain the same AND the concept to be (for example) that Junko chose Class 78 over 77 to brainwash, then that could fall under a Roleswap instead.

Gifts: This should hopefully be easier to achieve as a prompt, but this could be around any kind of celebration involving gifting (birthdays, holidays, etc.), or just a general occasion of wanting to get a gift. Maybe focusing on having difficulty with finding a present, etc.

Confessions: This could be anything from a love confession, or a completely innocuous thing like— oops, I’m the asshole that has been in your parking spot bc I’m dyslexic and thought it was mine meet cute(?). Perhaps it could be one of them receiving a love confession and the reaction around it.

Soulmates: Since I know there are quite a few ideas people have come up with over the years for soulmate AUs, I think this one should also not be too difficult (hopefully).

Here are four lists I got just from googling, should you need a few ideas about what you might do:

https://www.tumblr.com/r-evolve-art/144380748003/

https://www.tumblr.com/ausforsoulmates/190255248494/

https://www.tumblr.com/thegeminisage/94680598838/

https://www.tumblr.com/creativepromptsforwriting/647547186533531648/

You could also go more straightforward with red string of fate concepts for soulmates as well, or just the idea of soulmates, not necessarily a soulmate AU if none speak to you!

#ishimondoweek2024 #ishimondo #danganronpa #kiyotaka ishimaru #mondo owada #tumblr girlies get this first bc i gotta finish formatting the carrd tonight #hii guess who got everything together (finally). i think all the details should be ironed out pretty neatly!#a few days late but still early enough to give everyone time to start brainstorming

106 notes · View notes

theminecraftbee · 4 months

Text

so, first, accountability statement: I plan on trying to finish the “zedaph steals a baby” fic by the end of the month and god is that one-line summary no longer accurate but we’re sticking to it, said here publicly so now I have to do it. obviously I also have recursive exchange and the writing I have for hotguy comics zine, but I am not SUPER worried about either of those time/inspiration-wise at the moment and also for Reasons I know it won’t be long until I have more free writing time after that, SO.

various items that are on my potential writing docket, I am curious which of these appeal most:

I dust off the supervillain support group au. two ways this could go: I chip away at the second arc of my original outline and acknowledge this will be like a 300k fic I’m not ready to feel “done” with or “ready to post” with for ages, or I re-work it into something a little more doable and less ambitious keeping the same premise (ren runs a support group for supervillains, doc pov as he starts to heal and redeem himself). this MAY honestly be a target for “if I don’t hate the first 50k on re-reading it and I can actually make my brain write the second arc, do a slower release schedule and then start releasing chapters before I’m done writing”? but this ALSO runs the risk of “I stopped writing it, which is often a sign I was having trouble writing it”.

pearl monster au, which has been cooking in my head for a long while. the basic premise is “one day, pearl, with no memory of how or why this happened, wakes up in a facility as a monster and must try to figure out how she got there, escape, and find her way home, even knowing she may be irrevocably changed”. now with bonus season 10 fish flavor to add to this creature design I’ve been iterating on in my head for forever! this one is ALSO an experiment for me in “can I write a fic where I can’t write dialogue for basically the entire first act”, which would be interesting to see from me, you know?

the related “bigb folklore au”, where after secret life bigb is woken up by Cat and Dog by the tracks of the King Snake, which bigb can recognize as the railroad track, and decides to journey down the railroad to see if he can figure out what the fuck is going on. I need to do video review of life series bigb for this one. this is my excuse to get Weird and Metaphorical and also assign everyone to various animals for no reason, along with using some very specific aesthetic I have wanted to use for some worldbuilding but hadn’t gotten around to yet in any of my stuff. man walks through the desert with animal, confronts train that might be the watchers, might be death, and might just be a train. also, realizes that “confront” is the operative word there and has to deal with that. you know how it is.

““office au””, in air quotes because it’s not REALLY what anyone going to an office au is looking for so much as an excuse to write weird horror. iskall, normal-ish software developer man in a boring office job who does game jams in his free time, goes to work one day to work in his boring downtown office on a payment system for a client. and then things, uh, Take A Turn. this would be a LITTLE me going “what if I wrote an au with a guy who works in tech but like, the boring side of tech I’m in. like, banks and consulting and manufacturing and shit. where you sit in meetings all day and tweak java 8 code even though that language is ten years out of date. but THEN. something exciting happens in the worst way possible.” I’m doing to iskall what I did to mumbo stuffed bird is what I’m saying. it’d be fun.

DO ANY OF THESE PARTICULARLY INTEREST ANYONE. your input will be valued. like 50% chance i get hit with a strong bolt of inspiration then IGNORE that input but it’ll be valued all the same,

#note that me telling you about these ideas is ALSO accountability #on account of both ‘anyone can make whatever based on my things forever’ meaning one of you could make one now #and on account of people will start asking me about them on rare occasion now lol

118 notes · View notes

secretidentie · 1 month

Text

My Superbat prompts

I've been reading superbat since forever and I finally got a tumblr account so I thought I could ask some writers to use these.

Clark kent is at the manor to interview Bruce Wayne when Dr Freeze attacks and they're basically snowed in. Bruce trying to hide secrets and Clark getting the chance to write the story of the year in the form of an I depth exposé from inside the home of billionaire blah, blah, blah... Chaos and fluff.

Bruce is in a love triangle with superman and Clark Kent. Clark assumes Bruce knows he's one person. Bruce decides to solve this by brooding and going on a series of dates with them both until he decides who's his perfect match. (you decide if Clark knows Bruce is batman but think both versions are hilarious)

Bruce Wayne has to go undercover as a carnival worker in a small town on batman business. After the Daily Planet is bought out by corrupt government officials, Clark quits and goes back home to Smallville. He feels like he's changed and isn't as fulfilled by the simple life, not to mention how much harder it is to keep being superman. He doesn't even feel useful on the farm and can't find a job he enjoys to make some money of his own and leave the house. He starts visiting the fair to take his mind of things and meeting this handsome carnival worker who he definitely would have recognized in a small town like this.

LexCorp frames Wayne enterprises for some shady dealings putting the company under investigation which might even lead to it filing for bankruptcy. While Fox and others fix this, Bruce, as the face of the company, is advised to lay low and leave Gotham for a bit. He decides to get an apartment in the cheap side of Metropolis, since all his assets are frozen and he only has one working bank account. On top of that he has to deal with his hot new roommate (or neighbor depending on how you write it) who keeps leaving and coming back at the weirdest hours while also trying to keep tabs on Gotham and maybe getting himself a job in the mean time. (to be clear Clark is the roommate)

During an argument batman says he could easily do superman's job and superman says the same. So they swap cities for two weeks. First to call for backup looses. (feel free to add romance if you want but it's not compulsory)

Clark final gathers the courage to ask out batman but right before he does, green lantern starts flirting with batman too. Harvey dent is recently released from arkham and claims to be reformed and wanting to rekindle his well known public relationship with his collage sweetheart Bruce Wayne. This causes Oliver queen to also try to win his childhood best friend's heart. It's a very long week for Bruce. (all povs if possible. Also Bruce knows everyone's identities but no one knows his. This also doesn't have to end up superbat, choose your favorite ship. Make this love-pentagon as messy as you can)

These are just a few of my personal favorites. I have a lot more. Let me know if you want me to post them. If fics with these premise already exist let me know coz I would love to read them. You can make it as explicit as you want or make it for general audiences but for my sake please add fluff. If you use these prompts also make sure to tag me here or on AO3.

118 notes · View notes

marvelettesassemblenow · 4 months

Text

Under my Umbrella

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female Reader

Summary: On your vacation in Edinburgh you spot a lonely man sitting in the rain on a bench. You decide to give him a hot beverage

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: none I think

A/N: This takes place before Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen as did certain things in IW because who knows me, knows I only write fluff. So Steve stays and gets his happy ending.

The sun had just been shining, but now the first drops of rain were landing on the fabric of your jacket. You struggled with the mechanism of your umbrella before you finally managed to open it and even more droplets had found their way onto your skin in the meantime.

When you were more secured under the protecting fabric, you continued walking towards the pavilion that was selling hot beverages. While you were waiting in line you spotted a man sitting on a bench. He was staring at the castle (as most of the people in Edinburgh were) and didn’t seem bothered by the changed weather. His baseball cap protected his face from the rain, but that was about it. He wasn’t even dressed like most of the tourists with rain jackets and walking boots.

“Don’t mind him, he’s been here for a few days now. He’s harmless,” the vendor ripped you out of your thoughts and you realized that it was your turn to order. You ordered two hot beverages and struggled to hold the hot containers and the umbrella at the same time. You managed to arrive at the bench the man sat at with only one shoulder slightly more wet.

“Um hi, I thought you might want something to drink to warm you up. I’ve got tea or hot chocolate if you want.” Blue eyes started into yours and you almost let the paper cups slip. Wet pieces of hair came out under the cap, his beard also had some droplets of water in it, but his blue eyes were what caught your attention. “Don’t feel pressured, I just saw you sitting here in the rain and thought you’d might like something.”

“That was very thoughtful of you. I’d like the hot chocolate if that’s okay with you.” His voice was raspy as if he hadn’t used it in a while.

“Of course, I offered, right?” You tried to hold out the right cup, but lost the grip on the umbrella you had with your arm.

“Let me,” he said and when he reached out to take the umbrella and hold it over your head he was very gentle.

“Would it be okay for me to sit here and drink my tea?” you asked and he nodded and told you to wait before you sat down. He took a t-shirt out of a backpack that you hadn’t spotted under his legs and swiped the bench dry with it. You offered to share the umbrella and the man agreed under the premise that he would hold it.

It was quiet for a while until he said: “Do you know that over two million people visit the castle every year?”

“Wow, that’s a lot. But I get it, I haven’t seen something like this before. And the people here are so nice!”

This was a start of a discussion for the two of you. He provided more facts about the city and you learned that he wasn’t originally form Edinburgh too. You talked for almost an hour and the cups were empty when you had to leave.

“Thank you for the hot chocolate and the companionship,” he said when you stood up and he got up with you – still holding the umbrella.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for the nice conversation -” you stopped and noticed that you haven’t gotten his name.

“My name is Steve,” he provided.

“Farewell, Steve,” you said and took your umbrella. When you looked back you saw him sitting again in the rain and you weren’t sure if he really had a small smile on his lips or if it was your imagination.

The next day you found yourself back in princess street garden. There were a few reasons for that: 1. The castle was like a magnet, as you could see it from almost every point in town. 2. The garden was such a beautiful place! It was so green and clean, you felt relaxed walking through it. And the 3. reason was something that you had to admit was Steve. You just hoped to see him again.

Was he living there? The vendor had said he had been there for days, but he hadn't smelled or anything. On the other hand he had a backpack with clothes in it. Maybe he was an unfortunate traveler that had been stranded here? Maybe he wasn’t even there anymore and you had come for nothing. Well not nothing as you had clearly come for the view of the castle and the tea. Maybe you’d try the hot chocolate today as Steve had seemed to enjoy it.

And why on earth was your mind always going back to Steve? A guy you had talked to for not even an hour? And were your feet also carrying you faster when you saw the shade of a man with a baseball hat on a bench? You stopped by the pavilion again and ordered two hot chocolates this time.

“I’m trading a hot chocolate for a fun fact about the castle,” you said and held the cup in front of Steves face. This time you were sure there was a smile on his face as you saw it clearly.

“Above a door in the royal palace are the initials MAH engraved. They did this when Mary, queen of the Scots, gave birth to King James IV.”

“Definitely worth a cup of hot chocolate,” you held out the cup and he took it and patted the seat next to him. This time you didn’t have an excuse to sit as closely to him as it wasn’t raining. You were in the middle of a sip when a touch on your leg startled you. You looked over to Steve who pointed a finger towards the grass where a small squirrel was, before it continued its way towards the two of you. It nibbled shortly on your shoelaces before it decided it wasn’t a snack and went back to its next target.

“Did you see that?” you asked full of glee.

“I did!” he confirmed. It did seem like he just noticed that his hand was still slightly touching your leg and he removed it. “You want to take a walk with me?” he asked and you agreed.

Visiting Steve was like an unspoken rule. Just like you never asked why he was always sitting on that bench. Time with him flew and one hour turned into two. He made you laugh, he was very attentive and, on the day, when it rained again, he held the umbrella so you wouldn’t get wet while he had to duck his head.

“This is my last day here. I should be packing, but I rather saw you for the last time.” You couldn’t believe that you told him that. But there was nothing to lose, this was the last time you saw him.

“I think I have to stay a little longer, but at least I’ve got to know you.” You had reached the end of the park and looked at each. Steves skin was tinted red from the reflection of the umbrella and you had never seen someone more beautiful!

“I’ll miss our daily dates,” you almost whispered.

“I’ll miss you,” was Steves simple response. He bent forward and suddenly he pressed his lips against yours. It was gentle at first but then he put more pressure in it when you didn’t pull away. His hand was touching your face softly and his finger stroked your cheek when he put some distance between your faces.

“Stay safe, sunshine”

A few years later

“I can’t believe that we took the hard way. No one else here is out of breath!” you complained when you let yourself fall on the grass and watched the people walking the paved path while you and Steve had walked the hard way to the top of Arthurs seat to enjoy the view of Edinburgh.

“Have I told you that you look even more beautiful than the day I first saw you, sunshine?” Steve sat down so close to you, so he could put his arm behind you and you could lean against it.

“You tell me that every day,” you laughed and put your head on his shoulder.

“It’s the truth! When I saw you struggling holding all three items in your hand and the rain falling down your umbrella, a small slip of sun came through and illuminated you. I don’t call you sunshine for no reason.”

“You are a charmer. I can’t believe we’ve met that way!”

It had been two days after your farewell when you saw the news about Captain America destroying a train station in Edinburgh. It only took a few seconds of the footage until you realized that the homeless/ stranded man you had seen daily was actually Captain America who had been on the run. Months later there had been a letter in your postbox. It had been from Steve who figured out where you lived and wanted to give you the option if you wanted to see him or not.

Of course you had wanted to see him and after a lot of dates, that didn’t include a bench in the park, you moved in together and finally decided to visit the place again where it had all begun.

“It is a nice story. But I think we could leave out the part where you thought I was homeless,” he laughed and pressed a kiss to your side of the head. He was very affectionate since the two of you began dating and you were loving it. When the two of you met again in person, he had told you that he had been searching for Wanda. And while he had be sitting in the park, he had heard about all the stuff people said about the castle, so he could provide the facts he told you in exchange for the hot chocolate.

“I will never leave out that part. It is one of the best parts.” it was your favorite part because it made everyone laugh.

“My favorite part was meeting you,” he pulled you towards him until you both fell back onto the ground and kissed you. Never in your life would you have thought that you’d meet your future husband on your vacation. Not that Steve knew about your upcoming proposal. The only other person who knew was the vendor in princess street garden who would make sure that your bench wouldn’t be occupied tomorrow. But for now you would enjoy being in Steves arm.

Masterlist | Library Blog

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #captain america x you #steve rogers x you #steve x you #captain america oneshot #fluff #marvel fanfiction

115 notes · View notes

poichanchan · 2 years

Note

Hiii, someone relatively new to the phandom having just played through p5r, but can I ask how the swap au premise works? I'm curious what your own takes might be on how the situations for both joker and akechi happened to lead for them to be on opposite sides in comparison to the game! I tried to look it up a bit, but there's a lot of different headcanons, but I love your concepts so much I wanted to see if you had any particular thoughts on the setting :3

Hiiiii welcome to p5 brainrot jail haha! (genuinely though, welcome and im happy you enjoyed p5r!) Everyone has their take on swapAU, I specifically wanted to play with the idea of Goro and Akira swapping their ROLES ONLY.

In my AU Goro Akechi is still the son of Shido who is largely out of his life. Goro's life is a mess, his moms in rehab, and he is sent to Tokyo on probation (to his mother's friend Muhen the owner of JazzJin). I've adjusted Goro's life just enough to have him keep his childish love for justice. He finds his found family in the PT. Goro is a Snarky, whole, intelligent, a little mean, energetic, gets flustered, but also is passive and observant when he needs to be. HIS ROUGH LIFE MADE HIM GRUFF AND HONEST BUT HE ISNT JADED. Akira hates how shallow and transactional his life is. He has his awakening, ends up on Shido's radar via the research group he has in place to explore and exploit the metaverse. Akira's parents probably work around the research team somewhere and didn't think too hard about what they were getting their son into... a mix of negligence and wanting to get more opportunities as a family/bootlick. From there he has his forced 2nd awakening and gets ensnared in Shido's conspiracy. There is a lot of resentment in his life because of this, and when he is faced with Goro's existence, the literal SON OF SHIDO WHO HAS THE SAME POWERS yet life turned out so different for him because their roles are swapped its terrible. Akira is also very good at adapting to who he talks to like in canon. He is good at socializing and charming, thus the detective prince facade becomes a thing to help him gain access to deeper levels of mementos blah blah blah

Akira is also rationalizing a lot, he is seeing himself weeding corrupt people out, a hero getting hands dirty and sacrificing self for greater good. The metaverse is his stage. And he is THE showman. Detective prince Akira is more sweeping/showy/charismatic/flirty, his joker vibe comes through more normally. APART from the resentment Akira has for seeing Goro live his life the way he does, the resounding ITS NOT FAIR he feels in his heart, he also reeeeeally want the stupid phantom thieves to 'cherish your normalcy. stop messing with my plan. how fucking naive do you have to be to think THIS is justice?' COLD SEETHING FOCUSED FURY FROM AKIRA Its such a mess lol But i think hit Akira in the places that would make him play out the detective prince and Black mask bits without losing too much of his own flavor. His rationalizing is important, otherwise i felt he would feel the moral conflict harder and withdraw instead of being showy and sweeping. Also for their social links i have thoughts, i think detective Akira's special place would not be... jazzjin. I think he would drop by like canon Akechi drops by Leblanc, but nothing more. I have in mind a place up high at a height, something like the Shibuya Sky observation deck as a place he personally visits often to reflect and stare at the massive view of the city from. It felt right to have him up there looking down alone but comforted by it. Plus eventually share the view with Goro who he sees as this actual fated rival for all the reasons above. Their outfits are the way they are because i did not want to change them too severely in colorpallette or essence but wanted to play up some parts of their personality and represent it in the outfits. AND BECAUSE THIS IS A SHUAKESHU BLOG I NEED TO STRESS THAT because they are less jaded, because Akira is bolder and flirtier and Goro is more stubbornly optimistic about this dark world akira sees, they get closer alot faster, which makes the whole black mask and interrogation room bit very messy/

added pix to make post spicier THIS IS A MASSIVE POST BUT IM GLAD YOU ASKED BECAUSE I DUMPED MY THOUGHTS IN ONE PLACE FINALLY. there are some other things ive thought out a tiny bit, like hobbies etc but i put them down later when ive developed it more etc @ anyone reading, thank u for reading and these are my personal thoughts i am thingying to entertain myself!!!!! dont be mean to me thanks ;v;

#swap au #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #IS THIS A MASTERPOST #masterpost #ref #sorry if i have typos in there its 2am and the question has me brainrotting again

820 notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 6 months

Note

Maybe I'm just dumb and uneducated, but the publishing world just sounds a bit like a scam. Not in the traditional sense, but more in the sense that everyone for some reason thinks they'll make the break through so you should aim to get a publishing deal because you might end up being the next big star! You'll be the one who's books will lead to having a movie made*, you'll get the merch, the comics, the games, you'll be lauded and remembered for your writing and how YOU changed the publishing world. You just need to be a human machine who managed to write exactly what the publishing chefs at the top want. Please keep individuality to a minimum. In reality you might get a boost in money maybe if your book ever gets deigned to be bought up, how much is the average? 10-20K? Everything after that is just dead air. You will probably never be able to survive on the royalties, your book is most likely gonna end up side by side with books with the exact same premise as yours, because publishing prefers just copy pasting the same things over and over. Maybe you'll be the rare "token" #NotLikeOtherBooks that's there to test the waters for the next big trend, but most likely not, because those spots are for nepotism publications or big social media names. Oh but maybe you'll be the super big social media star who managed to get a huge social media following, so maybe you'll get a publishing deal that way, not because you're a good writer, but because you already got an audience. Oh the writing of this famous person is subpar? Oh who cares, just buy their book, we can sell with their name! While you're at it, do all the advertisement yourself, we don't really want to bother anymore. What do you expect us to do? Actually promote your book? Pfff, do that yourself. Oh you don't have social media? Welp, goodbye!

*from what I've seen studios might buy movie deals but that just means they'll keep the right to making a movie, not that there ever will be a movie, and you obviously lose the tiny nugget of chance that another studio does it.

I think you're being unduly pessimistic, not because this stuff isn't true of publishing but because this is how most sexy jobs work.

You become an accountant because the pay is steady. You might also enjoy it, but it's not one of those sexy jobs with a zillion people flinging themselves at the opportunity to be perpetually underpaid. Most arts jobs and a fair number of other over-mythologized ones, however, are in this same category where people have romantic ideas that they'll be the lone success... and they won't be.

Sure, it's sad that the dream of buying a mansion from your book royalties is out of reach, but... lots of life is like this? I don't think it's a big deal.

Now, as for the movie deal thing, you've misunderstood that one totally. What studios buy is options. That means they're tying up your movie rights for a few years so nobody else can have them.

The key feature here is that options run out.

If you keep being successful for a long time, you can sell an option on the same work over and over and over. It's a great deal for the author!

The chance that your thing will actually be made and that, if it is made, the adaptation won't be an absolute abomination is low. It's not worth worrying about. (If you want to make movies, go pursue that, not book writing.) But that sweet, sweet option money is great if you can get it.

A lot of people like to get huffy about how "good" books don't sell and "bad" books do, but this is short-sighted nonsense.

Like other commercial art, a good marketing campaign can sell an inferior product, but a lot of what makes the difference is a book being appealing or not. Yes, yes, the plebes have bad taste, boo hoo. More people want to buy a romance novel than a very depressing and dense literary one in general. News at 11.

But for every genuinely shitty book with a lot of buzz, there are a number of solid genre fiction works that are obviously fun for the audience for that genre.

Celebrity memoir sells, sure, but the majority of novels aren't by famous people. There are some gimmick books on the market, including, yes, novels by social media stars, but a lot of "bad" books sell because people just actually do want a Wattpad-sounding crap romance with an alphahole dude and a girl who's pretty when she takes her glasses off—or whatever other cliche you can name.

Like other products, books benefit from a strong brand. An author who's been writing for years is more of a sure thing. As a reader, one has limited time and energy to vet newbies.

This is sad for us as authors, but think about it as a reader! How much of your free time do you want to spend magnanimously giving a chance to people who are probably wasting your time vs. picking up something you know you'll enjoy?

And also from a reader's perspective, I don't want surprises. Sure, I don't want a book that's so predictable it's boring, but when I pick up a romance novel, I want a happy ending. When I pick up a mystery novel, I want the mystery to get solved. When I'm reading on AO3, I expect your ship tags to be accurate.

It's a great mistake to focus on how ~nobody likes originality~. This is just pretentious art student puffery that ignores how normal human tastes and emotions work. People with this attitude are ill-suited for creative professions.

I think that, in general, most publishing pros, whether authors or not, are fairly up front that it's hard to live on royalties and that most authors have day jobs. This isn't new. It's something people have been trying to educate prospective authors on for decades.

I'd blame starry-eyed outsiders for these kinds of misconceptions more than I'd blame the industry.

I do support trying to inform hopefuls about the realities of choosing this as a career though. They need to know they're not going to be making rent money in most markets on writing alone.

All of that said, the two big changes that I do see are a couple of things related to publishing companies getting ever more beholden to corporate overlords. The profit margin has always been slim, and this can be an issue when the bean counters are too involved.

First, editorial standards have slipped a lot. 1990s trash fiction did often get at least a little bit of developmental editing from the publisher. 2020s trash fiction might get that from an agent, but often, it's expected that an author shows up with a publication-ready manuscript.

I think the idea that the publisher wanted to sit around with their thumb up their ass workshopping your baby forever was unrealistic even back in the day, but there has been a change and most people acknowledge it. I've also seen way worse basic proofreading in recent books that I don't see in used books from years ago. It's still rare to see many errors because publishers do provide this type of editing, they're good at it, and correctness is far more objective than for developmental editing, but I used to see basically zero typos and malapropisms in big publishers' books, and that is no longer true.

I'm no insider, but from what I hear, the basic issue is that publishers are being squeezed and they just don't have time or budget to do more than cursory editing now compared to some times in the past. (Of course, plenty of greats did come out of the world of pulp fiction, and I'm sure that was edited in ten seconds too, so...)

Second, yes, publishers offer very little in the way of marketing help, book tours, etc. now and expect a lot from authors. Again, I gather they're being squeezed.

It's that latter issue that made me just not bother to pursue traditional publishing. I don't trust them to understand BL-y type aesthetics in most cases. I don't want to write books within the word count that is most profitable in traditional print. And I really, really don't want to be asked to do marketing within specific parameters while not being given access to timely sales data like a normal marketer who works for the publisher or a selfpub author would have.

But all in all, people who work in publishing are not the enemy. They like books. If they have to make some commercial decisions over artistic ones or bow to popular tastes you don't like... well, that's life.

117 notes · View notes

brazenautomaton · 15 days

Note

Please don't take this as an offense... Looking over the posts you've made about how "Popularity" is the Central Unifying Concept ruling every aspect of life, I can't help but feel like it's just as compromised as other worldviews that blame the world's problems on a singular concept like Race, Economics, Patriarchy, Hierarchy, etc.

Am I mistaken in this assessment? How is this any more valid than others? If not, have you ever reexamined the premises to see if you might need to change your views?

I think that those world systems are trying to substitute something else for popularity and fit everything into that hole, when "popularity theory" is upstream of all of them? social power struggles consume every group of people, psychopaths are very good at social power games, social power games result in social status, people use "social status" as a Goodhart's Law-ed proxy for every relevant aspect about a human being unless their balls are right next to the bandsaw and survival is more important than affirming a flattering story about themselves.

there's no structure to this, no intentionality, it's an emergent property of how human beings think. revealed preferences are that people want to reward high-status / popular people and want to punish low-status / unpopular people. they find it difficult to believe or remember negative things about the popular, and similarly can't believe or remember positive things about the unpopular. they want to be seen aligning with the popular and punishing the unpopular. popularity can be correlated with different things in different situations, but those things it correlates with are not the One Solution.

popularity is expressed by bullying. bullies are rewarded for being popular, because bullying is something you can only do if you are popular; this is why people want to fight bullies, cannot form the intent to actually oppose a popular person, and go after unpopular nerds instead. the popular try to punish everyone around them; the unpopular suffer more from this, identifying them for more punishment. people reward this not because of some ideology or sinister machination but because that's how ape cruelty games work.

popularity can certainly correlate to other things, and people try to make those other things into the be-all-end-all explanation. if you're in the South in the 1960s, and you're black, and you're surrounded by white people, no, you're not going to be popular. you're going to be unpopular and people will hate you, seek to harm you, seek to believe bad things about you, and reward others for bullying you. but it isn't "whiteness" that's doing that, it's popularity -- go look at the segregated black high school and everyone behaves the same way toward whoever is on the bottom of their pecking order.

a man or woman who is not fitting into their assigned gender role is going to be unpopular, and gender-conforming people are going to crush them. that's not because men crush women or women crush men it's because the popular crush the unpopular and gender conformity is a lens to use to find the popular. the people who hate "the patriarchy" and "gender conformity" behave exactly the same way towards people for violating a different set of gender norms that they made up, because the problem wasn't that these gender roles are uniquely corrupting, the problem is popularity needs to find a way to punish the unpopular and this was something it used.

45 notes · View notes

booksandabeer · 3 months

Text

A Man Takes His Sadness Down to the River (The Consolation of Philosophy) (E | 150 K)

To celebrate the completion of the fourth & final part Lost Vocabularies that Might Express (The Memory of These Broken Impressions) in this wonderful series by dorian_burberrycanary.

Author's summary: The worst of times, like the best, are always passing away. How’s that for some consolation on the road? A post-The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Stucky fix-it as part of the all-American road trip, detours included.

Follow Steve and Bucky on their Great American Road Trip as they drive and eat their way across the country and beyond. From the beaches of the Jersey Shore to the graveyards of Savannah, from the cragged horizons of Mexico to deserts with (small) volcanoes, from college campuses to earthship settlements, from the mountains of Colorado to the monumental emptiness of the Great Plains and on and on and on…there is always more road ahead.

A Man Takes... is a miracle of a series that works with what should be an unworkable premise: Steve really did leave to go live in the past. He returned a few months later, yes, but he still made that choice. Knowingly. So, how can any author, any story, rectify such a colossal mistake, and how can it be reconciled with a believable, satisfying romance that short-changes neither Steve nor Bucky? Like this. With patience, and care, and often painful honesty. Just like Steve, this story slowly digs itself out from under the burden of that terrible decision.

I know that some people are very reluctant or even outright refuse to read EG-compliant fics and I understand why this might be a tough sell for them. Believe me, I do. But this series manages to neither let Steve off the hook for his choices nor does it punish him excessively. Instead, Steve and the readers are repeatedly confronted with the fact that there are no magical solutions here, no take-backs—it’s a fix-it, yes, and very much a Stucky fic through and through, but it’s not a fix-it fantasy where in the end everything turns out to have been an unfortunate misunderstanding after all. What's done is done and the only way out is through. But. even if you usually prefer to ignore anything that happened post-[insert preferred point of canon divergence here], please, please try to give this absolute marvel of a series a chance. It is genuinely one of the most rewarding and satisfying works I've ever read in this fandom. It's catharsis in slow motion.

You will find descriptive writing here that is so incredibly beautiful that it will bring you to your knees in awe. This series transcends fanfiction in many ways, as it stands out for the remarkable quality of the prose and the nuance, subtlety, and precision with which it explores both the emotional landscapes of its protagonists and a fictionalized, yet very recognizable post-Snap America. At the same time, it could only ever work as fanfiction because it stays so close to the characters and is so deeply rooted in and filtered through Steve’s inner life and perspective. Just like the real Steve Rogers, this story is smart and curious, and deeply empathetic towards its characters and the world they inhabit.

Every detail is imbued with meaning. The food Steve and Bucky eat. The clothes they wear. The art they look at. The books they read. The music they listen to. The places they stay at. The landscapes they drive through and the objects they carry with them or acquire along the way. One doesn't need to understand or even notice all of the references, allusions, or ambiguities to enjoy the series, but it makes for such a rewarding reading experience to really dig deep into the many, many layers the author has so expertly assembled into this phenomenally rich text. More often than not in this fic, the curtains aren’t just blue. Or rather, Bucky’s sweatpants aren’t just gray.

At some point amidst this sprawling, reflective journey, a bittersweet realization sets in: There simply is no compensation for the time and life lost, for the pain suffered. No money, no medals or statues, no hagiographies, and certainly no delusional pipe dreams forcibly made real, will ever make up for all that loss. You can't outrun your past, but that doesn't mean you should bury yourself in it. And maybe, solace can be found in mutual understanding, not just between these two men, but in interactions, in shared community—however fleeting—with ordinary people doing ordinary things in their ordinary lives. And in the beauty of the mundane and the relief that there still is a world in which such beauty can exist, even though it is so often a cruel and unjust place. Steve Rogers finally allows himself to feel his feelings: his grief and his shame, but also his joy and—even though he’s already so very tired—his hunger for more. More time, more life, more Bucky.

This series is a wonderful tribute to Steven Grant Rogers—an honest and affectionate portrayal of this compelling and lovable, if at times difficult, character. It is also a gorgeous, intricate love letter to the miracle of a man that is James Buchanan Barnes. As you can probably tell by now, I love it a totally not normal amount.

A most heartfelt thank you to @burberrycanary for taking us all along on Steve and Bucky's long journey across America and (back) to each other. Thank you for letting us sit in the back seat and watch as they learn to love and live with each other in old and new ways, finally find some measure of well-deserved rest and peace, and, together, face their greatest challenge, their longest fight, the eternal question:

How to live with all this survival?

#stucky fic rec #or: a completely unhinged and very sappy & very gushy love letter to this series.#stucky #steve x bucky #steve x bucky fic rec #stucky fic #stevebucky #my recs

61 notes · View notes