i just followed two of these people like three days ago... how did that happen

Oh my God, we're so sorry we blocked your doorway. Now go get your ear muffs.

I’ve had a long respectable career in game development. A couple of years ago I’ve abandoned it for a cushy corporate job, and now spend most of my days missing gamedev.

This story takes place about 10 years ago at the apex of my career.

I was the lead on a AAA project. Our parent company, for which videogames was just one of many lines of business, was going through changes. We had to move offices three times in one year. Second of the three moves, always intended to be temporary, put us into the basement of an older building long occupied by satellite departments not involved with development.

The basement we were given had been empty for years, save for the most distant office. You entered the basement through a dimly lit staircase. Then, after you snaked through a horror-movie-like maze of corridors and interconnected small rooms, you’d eventually arrive at the farthest room of all.

A golden plaque was on the door.

Trademark Compliance Department.

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OFF THE CUFF HOMESTUCK THOUGHTS #3: THE SELF PILE DOESN’T STOP FROM GETTING TALLER OR: THE PROBLEM OF DEAD MARIOS

DISCLAIMER

IMPORTANT THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK

[CHECK THE TAG FOR MORE THOUGHTS]

So, a long-ass time ago, Rose and Dave had a conversation like this:

TT: After you go, what do you think will happen to me?
TT: Will I just cease to exist?
TG: i dont know
TG: i mean your whole timeline will
TG: maybe
TT: Maybe?
TT: Is there a chance it’ll continue to exist, and I’ll just be here alone forever?
TT: I’m not sure which outcome is more unsettling.
TG: the thing with time travel is
TG: you cant overthink it
TG: just roll with it and see what happens
TG: and above all try not to do anything retarded
TT: What do you think I should do?
TG: try going to sleep
TG: our dream selves kind of operate outside the normal time continuum i think
TG: so if part of you from this timelines going to persist thats probably the way to make it happen
TT: Ok.
TG: and hey you might even be able to help your past dream self wake up sooner without all that fuss you went through
TT: I think the true purpose of this game is to see how many qualifiers we can get to precede the word “self” and still understand what we’re talking about.

This is the most important sentence in Homestuck.

I am dead serious.

Well, OK, I mean, it’s pretty important for understanding some major Homestuck themes and shit or something like that.

Also, I totally should have said: Pre-Retcon Doomed Timeline Non-Dreamself Rose but ultimately about to become Dreamself Rose who semi-merged with Pre-Retcon Alpha Timeline Rose and Doomed Timeline Dave aka Davesprite AKA future Davepetasprite^2 or as we all call them around the office, Davepeta, had that conversation.

Maybe you begin to see what I’m going to talk about here.

One of the major frustrations a lot of people had with the retcon was that the characters we ended up with at the end weren’t the ones we’d come to love and know throughout the story. Was it even worth it, to lose the characters we loved to the tyranny of Game Over? The victorious kids, with the exception of John and Roxy, were other people, with other histories, other goals, and other choices.

Allow me to submit that that may be the whole point.

SBURB is cruel. We’ve known that for a long time. It’s cruel not as Caliborn is cruel, but as the cosmos is cruel, as a supernova is cruel. It wants what it wants, and doesn’t care about how that intersects with the needs of humanity. It wants to make universes through a complex game-playing method, and drags hapless, vulnerable adolescents along for the ride. And most of the time it doesn’t even succeed, leaving its champions to rot in a doomed timeline or similar! Skaia’s victory is an amoral creation myth where individual human beings are just the carved pieces on the chessboard. (I mean, the other ones. Not the carapacians.)

Again, let’s consider the theme of VIDEO GAMES vs. REAL LIFE.

Homestuck, let’s be real, is basically some postmodern horror timey-wimey Jumanji. For a generation way more familiar with pixels than cute little tokens It’s easy for teenagers and in fact, basically everyone, to fantasize about escaping their life and slipping into some game world forever, where they get to do awesome things and be a heroic person.

Homestuck makes that literal. Congratulations, everything you ever knew is dead. You will never see it again, except your internet friends, who turn out also to be your family and other important people. I mean, from a distance, SBURB sounds like an awesome game, right? You figure out who you are and get to wear a cool costume displaying that identity. You get to make anything you want and enjoy this hyperflexible mythology tailored to YOUR CHOICES. HS fans talk all the time about how cool it would be to play a real version of SBURB. That’s a big part of the appeal of SBURB fan adventures. They put you and your friends in the story. Or your favorite characters! It sounds like a fantasy come true.

The thing is, as fantastical as it is, it’s also really fucked up, and ultimately you and your friends are being used. By a giant frog to let it have its babies. By the universe. By a smug blue cloud thing that doesn’t care about you at all.

SBURB does not care about you at all.

The funny thing, SBURB features a mythology with so many layers and nuances and seemingly human motifs about growth and self that you might search for some grand ultimate meaning behind it, but it’s not even human enough to have a personality, to be something you can argue with or fight. It just is. It’s all the cruelty and power of a god without any of the dazzling personality. It’s empty. It just wants to make universes all day long, or fail trying. It is a great, weird tadpole-making machine that eats children.

One of the big ways it doesn’t care about you is its attitude toward the self. Humans and trolls and whatnot prefer not to be relentlessly duplicated. SBURB says, oh yeah, let’s make tons of copies of the player characters and use them for a lot of different purposes.

There’s the dreamself, an essential bifurcation of identity (you are now and were always the dream moon princex) that sometimes gets merged into god tier but sometimes doesn’t. There’s doomed timeline selves, who exist ultimately to augment an Alpha timeline whose Alphaness is decided very arbitrarily and frequently by Lord English. There’s the you who exists before a scratched session and the you who exists afterward, who are two different people but started as one baby in an act of ectobaby meteor duplication, your player self and your guardian self. Dead timeline yous fill up the dreambubbles made by the horrorterrors and get endlessly confused with each other. Any one of these could be the you experience being at any given moment, and which one it is entirely arbitrary. Don’t like being Dead Nepeta #47? Tough hoofbeast leavings, kiddo.

To top it all off, in Terezi: Remember, we learn that every single time we thought someone changed from one self to another, was resurrected or something like that, it was another act of duplication. For every time someone’s died, there’s another version of them waiting in the Dream Bubbles, surprised that they’re not the main character anymore. And we have no way of knowing which is which. Even John, good old everyman John, may or may not be the person who died three or four times. It’s really impossible to say whether we’ve been following the same person throughout our story, or just the illusion of the same person, like a horrifying cosmic flipbook.

The retcon is a return to this same theme. Ultimately, there’s very little new in the changes John makes to reality except that they drive the point home.

John’s friends all died. John and his friends won the game. These things are both true at the same time, except those things may not have happened to the same people. There was a happy ending. Hooray! For, um, some folks who may or may not be the ones we care about. In fact, it’s very confusing, because from Rose’s perspective, Roxy is dead but came back to life, and from Roxy’s perspective Rose is dead but came back to life, except also she came back to life as a weird tentacle catgirl of pure id and self –indulgence. So there’s that. Um. Which Rose are we rooting for again?

Or wait: is it none of them, because the first Rose died in a doomed timeline, hundreds of panels and a number of years ago?

There’s a tension here which one experiences between saying it’s okay because it’s still the same people, and saying it’s not okay, because it’s not the same people at all. This tension is exactly what we’re meant to wrestle with. To put it another way, Homestuck asks if identity can work in aggregate. Are all Johns John, all Roses Rose, and do they all share in what they accomplish? Or are the final victors only accidents created by the whims and needs of the frog baby machine?

What I’m saying, basically, is that the retcon, in the sense that it pointed out our confused relationship with these characters, was already here.

In interviews and questions put to him over the years, Hussie constantly compares HS and SBURB to other video games, particularly Mario, which he frequently returns to as a baseline of comparison that most of his readers will know. One answer, from a recent Hiveswap interview, is particularly revelatory. To the question of “Why do you kill off all your characters?” Hussie replies:

[…]HS is supposedly a story that is also a game. In games, the characters die all the time. How many times did you let Mario fall in the pit before he saved the princess? Who weeps for these Marios. In games your characters die, but you keep trying and trying and rebooting and resetting until finally they make it. When you play a game this process is all very impersonal. Once you finally win, when all is said and done those deaths didn’t “count”, only the linear path of the final victorious version of the character is considered “real”. Mario never actually died, did he? Except the omniscient player knows better. HS seems to combine all the meaningless deaths of a trial-and-error game journey with the way death is treated dramatically in other media, where unlike our oblivious Mario, the characters are aware and afraid of the many deaths they must experience before finally winning the game.

The big man hass the answer.

Homestuck is the story of those dead Marios.

Other works, like Undertale, have engaged with this topic as well. But one of the major differences between Undertale and Homestuck is that in Undertale, between “lives,” one’s consciousness is preserved. In Homestuck, it’s discontinuous, and the value of the overall trial-error process is called into question by the fact that you, the player, may not even get to experience the victory. What meaning does victory hold if that is the case?

So, to put it in a nice thesis format:

One of the central themes of Homestuck is the challenge of reconciling an arbitrary and destructive pattern of growth and victory with the death and suffering you experienced along the way. Homestuck asks: is victory worthwhile if you’re not you anymore? And would you be able to know?

What even is the self? Is there such a thing?

If you were left feeling somewhat disconcerted by our heroes’ tidy victory and departure to their cosmic prize, or by how which Rose gets the spotlight is so deeply, deeply arbitrary, there’s a good reason for that. You’re supposed to be.

The philosophical problem of Wacky Cat Rose is insignificant next to the bullshit of SBURB.

And don’t forget—John and Roxy’s denizens helped them achieve the retcon. Ultimately, the victory they achieved was mediated by the same amoral system of SBURB, and was a victory over an enemy, Caliborn, whose power was created, perpetuated, and ended by that same system.

Okay, so here’s where it gets contentious. There’s an argument to be made, which I’m not sure how I feel about, that some of the character development that could have been in post-retcon Act 6 was left out precisely to push this feeling and play up this tension. Note that this is not the same thing as saying that they were deliberately badly written, but that they’re deliberately written to make us uneasy.That Hussie deliberately played with the balance between making these retconned characters feel familiar and making them feel eerily different to leave us feeling uneasy with the result.

I’m not sure I like that idea. It smacks a little too much of that “everything is perfect” thinking that comes sometimes from the far Metastuck camp. Some of the differences may also be the result of flawed writing. (See: Jane and Jake’s character arcs, which I might talk about later.) And I want to be able to critique those flaws. Ultimately, I think we still needed more time and development to figure out who these new people were—even if our goal was ultimately to compare them to their earlier selves. And again, more conscious acknowledgement of the problem from our heroes—especially John, the linchpin in this last and biggest act of duplication—might have helped drive this theme home.

Still, I think the Problem of Dead Marios is one of the most fundamental questions of Homestuck, maybe THE biggest question. It’s essential to understand it to understand what Hussie’s doing—or attempting to do— in the retcon and the ending.

I don’t know that Homestuck offers us a clear answer to that question. There are some confusions around the issue, too. Where do merged selves fit in, exactly? Clearly they’re a big part of the discussion, because Hussie spends some time in Act 6, especially near the end bringing the identity-merging powers of the Sprites to the forefront. (See also: the identity-merged nightmare that is Lord English.)  Can we even come up with a clear answer to what it means when a dead Mario returns to life grotesquely fused with Toad? How does he beat the game? Does he tell himself that the princess is in another castle? Or what if he merges with Peach? Are they their own princess? How do they know if they’re in the right castle?

Um. Anyway—

Interestingly, it’s not all grotesque—spritesplosions suggest that personalities that are too different don’t stay together long, so a fusion might rely on some inherent compatibility between the two players. Erisol’s self-loathing, sure, but also Fefeta’s cheerfulness. Davepeta seems to be a way of bringing out the best in their players, a way of getting Davesprite past his angst and Nepeta past her fear. Honestly, I know a lot of people don’t like Davepeta as the ending of these two characters’ arcs, but I can’t help but love it. They’re the ultimate coolkid. Cool enough to know they don’t have to be cool. Regular Dave got there, too, of course. But was his retcon assist from John ultimately any different?

Then, of course, we come to Davepeta’s speech to Jade in one of the last few updates before Collide. Davepeta suggests that there is such a thing as an ultimate self beyond the many different selves one piles up throughout the cosmos. A set of principles that describes who you are that’s larger than any individual instance of you. Your inherent Mariohood. (Maybe this is comparable to your Classpect identity, which attempts to describe who you are?) Davepeta even tells Jade, strikingly, that one might learn to see beyond the barriers between selves. Be the ur-self, in practice, rather than theory. This would be incredible news for Jade, who wrestles with the issue of different selves perhaps more than any other character. (There’s a lot to say about Jade.)

Honestly, I wish this ur-self idea had been developed more, and I honestly expected it to be. It doesn’t fully come to fruition, I feel. (Same goes for Davepeta’s character. Ohhhh, ZING!) I’m not sure it entirely makes philosophical sense, especially with fusion—I mean, doesn’t Davepeta themself disprove it? Or at least complicate it? Like, are they part of the ur-Dave or the ur-Nepeta? They seem to imply they’re BOTH? Does that even work? Does that mean that Marieach is all the Peaches and Marios at once?

(In fact, Bowser/Peach/Mario are but the three manifestations of one eternal principle. Also, Bowser/Peach are the true power couple. Read my fanfiction plz.)

And what, say, of Dirk, who ultimately ends up rejecting aspects of his other selves? It feels like there’s a lot more you could say here, and I wonder if Hussie would have said more, if he’d had time. What’s weird is, none of our victorious kids never reach an ur-self (though to their descendants, they become archetypal to some degree), which one might have expected. They’re just individual selves who happened to get lucky. Does that make them representative of the whole? It feels like something’s missing here, or like something got dropped at the last minute.

Same goes for the idea of the Ultimate Riddle. You’d be forgiven for missing it, but there’s been this riddle in the background lore of SBURB that seems to have something to do with personal agency in this overwhelming, overarching system. Karkat called it predestination, saying something like “ANY HOPE YOU HAD OF DOING THINGS OTHERWISE WAS JUST A RUSE.” But others have interpreted it more positively. My favorite interpretation, from bladekindeyewear: the answer to the Riddle is that YOU shape the timeline through your existence, personality, and choices, even when it looks like it’s all predestination. Ultimately it’s your predestination, your set of events, based deeply on your nature, that you are creating. Someone like Caliborn can use his innate personality to achieve power; someone like John might be able to use it to achieve freedom.

I definitely expected something like that to be expressed more explicitly. Like, a big ah-ha moment that helps John or Jade or whoever understand how to escape Caliborn’s system. Something like that would have been very helpful for a lot of our heroes, actually, who’ve been pushed around by Skaia and SBURB together, in finding a cathartic ending.  Once again, I wonder if something was dropped or rushed because there wasn’t time to put it all in. There’s places where you can see hints of that Answer being implied, maybe? But it’s kind of ambiguous.

You can see how the Answer to the Ultimate Riddle ties into some of Davepeta’s ideas. If your personality, the rules of your behavior are a fundamental archetype that goes beyond each individual self, then the answer to whether it matters if one self of yours makes it through to victory is an emphatic YES. You are all of those people, and by winning one round with Skaia, you’ve won the whole game, despite all the arbitrary challenges and deaths it heaps upon you along the way.

This may strike some as too positive for Skaia’s brutality, or again, some way of excusing flaws in many characters’ arcs, or unfair things that happen to them. To be fair, I don’t know that Davepeta’s necessarily meant to be taken as authoritative or the voice of Hussie. They may simply be offering a purrspective.

Hussie not choosing to come right out and engage with the Ultimate Riddle leaves the question of Dead Marios and what they mean for the victorious versions of our cast very open. I like that in some ways—let the reader decide—but I can’t help but wish we had more to work with in making that decision. Plus, it might have brought the thematic messages of Homestuck all the way home to tie them more closely to our characters and their experiences—character development being one of the things most people found most lacking in the ending.

NEXT TIME: All that wacky gnostic stuff probably

It’s A Comfort Thing

Author: @sincerelystiles
Pairing: Dylan x Reader
Word Count: 3,738

Warnings: nsfw aT ALL THIS IS SO SINFUL I’M NOT EVEN SORRY

A/N: i was gonna keep this fluffy, but we all know it’s pretty impossible for me to not write sin for dylan, so here you go!! also i apologise for how dirty this got. fUCK. and thanks to my bby @sabrinas-wolves for helping me with this and the puthey… and this is dylan pov

listen to this


Originally posted by arkhamcutie


my baby: text me when you’re on your way home so i can start dinner xo

dyl pickle: will do xx

I shove my phone back into my pocket with a smile and rub my hands together eagerly. It had been five months since I’d been home, which also meant five long, agonisingly lonely months since I last saw Y/N. Admittedly, I’d much rather be home with her right now, either fucking the shit out of her, or holding her close to my chest as I wash her hair in the bath tub. She always loved corny shit like that. But unfortunately, I wasn’t. I was in my dressing room, waiting with T-Pose to be interviewed with Ellen DeGeneres.

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Uncle Gerry’s Family Fun Zone

by reddit user Red_Grin

This is a lengthy story but it is worth it:

I didn’t know Will could draw, I remember thinking as my friend’s hand quickly moved across the page. And then I looked more closely at Will’s impromptu sketch, and I immediately regretted it. I tried to unsee it. I shifted my attention to other things around me, anything at all that wasn’t ink on the page: the blur of Will’s hand, the beads of sweat gathering at his temples, the gentle autumn breeze creeping through the crack of the window.

Don’t look at the page. Just don’t look at it.

But I knew I had to. So I looked. And it was worse than I expected. Much worse.

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FP Jones/Andrew’s Family/Riverdale imagines - Oh Dear Part 12 - Final Part(For now)

Originally posted by fyeahriverdale

AN: So we’ve come to an end until Season 2 comes out. I will continue to write FP and Riverdale imagines so if you don’t already please follow me for more. I am so in love with this fic and all of you have been so kind about it, I hope to continue it next season and I hope you stick around for that. Love you all!

(Part One)(Part Two)(Part Three)(Part Four)(Part Five)(Part Six)(Part Seven)(Part Eight)(Part Nine)(Part Ten)(Part Eleven)

Overall Summary: You’re Archie’s old sister and you have a thing for a certain serpent

Pairing: Reader x FP Jones, Sister!Reader x Archie Andrews, Daughter!Reader x Fred Andrews

Word count: 3,947

Warnings: Well, FP is clearly older than the reader in this fic, 

The following few days that came after the discovery of the true murderer of Jason Blossom was a whirlwind of events. Clifford Blossom killed himself and was busted for hard drugs, the Blossom house and company was completely ransacked by the sheriff’s department, Cliff Blossom’s funeral (if you could even call it that), the Cooper’s reuniting and you constantly fighting with yourself to go see FP. 

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zazzhowell  asked:

ok so dan being all whiny and phil being busy playing a game or something so he grinds on phils thigh until he cums? bonus points for daddy kink💕

This probably isn’t what you meant by whiny but hey go hard or go home. And ofc I added some daddy kink. Getting me not to is the hard part.

Anyone who tries to tell you that humans don’t go into heat clearly hasn’t met Daniel Howell. Years ago, Phil would have said the same thing – that it’s reserved for oestrous cycle animals and that men who claim to have anything along the lines of a “sex addiction” are just fishing for excuses to sleep with the nanny. Then when he met Dan, everything he thought he knew about human sexuality went out the window. It’s not that Phil’s boyfriend is an overly sexual person all the time – in fact, for most of the year he struggles to keep up with Phil’s rather standard libido. Dan has a tendency to run himself into the ground and survive off as little sleep as possible, which tends to wreak havoc with his sex drive. That’s not to say that they don’t normally have sex, because they do, but generally no more than two or three times a week. Usually, it’s just some nice vanilla loving with Dan’s back on the bed and his legs around Phil’s waist, or, if he’s not too tired, sitting in Phil’s lap and riding him as they lazily make out. They’ve both come to the agreement that handjobs aren’t even worth the effort, but there’s the occasional blowjob thrown in when they’re bored or don’t have the time to go all the way. What they have is probably considered the average sex life for two people who have been together as long as they have. And then there’s that one week a year when all this information becomes void and null.

The only way either of them can describe it is a form of heat. It hits Dan every year without fail, always around the same time. He falls into this sexual frenzy where it’s all he can think about – he can’t sleep, he can’t work, he can barely eat. The only two options available in his mind are fuck or be fucked. Every little touch against his skin is oversensitive – even the fabric of his clothes brushing over his skin gets him desperate and panting. He tends to spend the week indoors in only his underwear for a lax attempt at modesty. When he’s not actually naked and fucking, that is. He probably comes more times in that week than he does for the rest of the year combined, and when it passes he sleeps for three days straight, waking only to drink water and use the bathroom.

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Words Aint Enough

It’s finally here. 
The one shot was inspired by this song by Tessa Violet: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pWAAFCZeIKM

Plot: Y/N never asked him to commit himself to her, but when Harry flirts with someone else it breaks her heart. 

Warnings: None aside from mentions of Sex. But there’s no smut. 

…. now….

I was in love with him. Whole heartily and knees weakening in love. Even though we were destined to fail.
What Harry and I shared was special, a bond much stronger than anything else I knew. Or so I’d thought. From the moment we met he was magical to me and enchanting. I couldn’t get enough of him. He was addictive.
And I would always do my best to keep him.
I liked what he liked, learned to care for the things he cared about and felt proud whenever he discovered as a happy surprise that I enjoyed the same things he did. Harry liked me a lot. I hoped that maybe if I adapted more to his likings he would learn to see in me what I had long begun to see in him. A plan that couldn’t possibly work.
Times passed and my heart grew heavier. Far too long my infatuation with him received little response and though I had tried not to let it hurt me and had kept on telling myself that some of his love was better than none at all, it’d pained me. There was only so much I could take, but to my misfortunate I’d realized too late just how much I depended on him. Too much. So far too much.

Harry had contributed a lot to me staying oblivious to his lack of romantic feelings for me. So many times he’d stolen a kiss to my cheek, had held onto my hand or had pulled me in to sit on his lap for no apparent reason at all other than the fact that he’d wanted me to be near him.

„You’re like my puzzle,“ Harry had murmured into my neck one evening after he’d pulled me onto his lap.

I’d giggled. „Because I’m confusing?“

„No,“ he’d laughed against my back, „It’s because we fit so well. With you sitting like this… ’S nice, you know?“

I wish I would have had the guts to tell him right then and there.

My fingers had squeezed his before leaning back into him. „Yes, I know.“

Always being the more confident between the two of us, I’d assumed those sweet gestures were him taking the steps I never dared to. Steps towards us being more than close friends.

But I’d been mistaken about quite a few things…

The first kiss he’d given me had been what doomed it all to change. His game of stolen touches and unspoken feelings couldn’t be played for much longer without me going insane over how much my feelings tore at my heart. And what had instantly followed our first kiss was much more.
I remembered that morning so well. I had opened my eyes and found him asleep by my side. Unlike all of his other touches, which could have been excused, this hadn’t been an accident. Kissing someone all night and whispering words over adoration… Sleeping with them. That doesn’t just happen.
Especially not when you’re as sober as Harry and I had been when we’d stumbled into bed and into each other’s embrace.

As I’d lain there I allowed my hand to reach out and touch his warm skin gently.
Images of Harry’s face only inches away from my own had clouded my memory. His kiss, foreign as I’d never got to taste his lips before and then familiar at the same time due to how many times I’d been staring at his mouth. Every curve, extra soft section and particularly warm spot of his mouth… I’d got to know them.

The smile was impossible to keep from my gracing my lips. Harry… my Harry, was naked and asleep in my bed, wrapped up in my sheets while I was wrapped up in his arms. His chest was pressed against my bare back making me feel safer than I’d ever felt before and when I turned my head just a little bit I could press my lips to one of his many tattoos. Even his legs were intertwined with my own. There would have been no untangling us even if we’d wanted to.

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Disobey

Request: If your doing requests I have a Steve thing that came into mind. It’s pretty much just smut, inspired by lyrics from the song ‘tied down - James young’. Specifically “So please can I be selfish with your body, cause I don’t think I can share you with nobody” and “When I have you, I’m gonna brand you with my lips, so all of the world will know that your mine now”. -however you want it is fine with me :) -also sorry for bothering you :E I just couldn’t resist 

Words: 3,973

A/N: Smut warning. I also haven’t had the chance to edit I’m sorry

Originally posted by urmychilicheesecake

“Y/N!” You ignored Steve yelling at you through the earpiece. Grabbing the gun off one of the Hydra agents, you checked to make sure there were enough bullets to get through the next hallway. Four bullets.

“Y/N there are too many agents in that room, forget the extra intel we got what we needed,” Steve spoke through sternly again. You ignored him once again, holding the gun up, finger on the trigger, ready to fire at any given moment.

“Sorry Cap, we can’t just walk away when we know there’s more information that we could use.” You whispered through the earpiece. You rounded the corner, gun aimed high, shooting once, effectively taking out two Hydra agents that were rounding the corner together. One would think not to walk right behind the other.

“Y/N. Get out of there and start heading for the Quinjet. Now.” You rolled your eyes. You continued making turned until you found the door that led to the information you were looking for. You jiggled the doorknob, hoping that there was a small chance that it wasn’t going to be locked. You backed away from the door, contemplating whether or not you were going to shoot the lock and fight however many people were in there with two bullets or walk away like you were told. You raised your gun, thinking to hell with it, before shooting the lock once and kicking the door open, gun still raised. To your surprise, the room was empty. You rushed to one of the computers, inserting a flash drive before hurriedly tapping away on the computer.

“I thought I told you to go to the Quinjet.” You turned around, holding the gun up out of instinct, caught off guard by how quiet Steve had been. There were deep frown lines on the edges of his mouth, his usual bright baby blues that typically reminded you of the sky on a sunny day were now a dark navy blue that reminded you of the deepest edges of the ocean. You swallowed, the tension in the room growing thick. Your heartbeat rose, waiting for him to yell at you. You watched as he tightened and untightened his jaw, something you know he did when he was annoyed. His broad chest rose and fell so lightly that if you hadn’t been studying him so closely you would think that he wasn’t breathing. His hands were in fists, knuckles white that you could only imagine were from how hard he was digging his nails into his palm. You didn’t know what to say.

You heard the computer beeping, you turned your attention from the very angry looking super soldier to the Hydra computer. You read the big green letters that popped on the screen.

Transfer complete

You let yourself smile a little bit, ejecting the flash drive before turning around to face Steve again. His eyes kept burning holes into you.

“Are you just going to stand there and stare at me or are we going to head back to the Quinjet?” You asked, praying to whoever was listening that didn’t sound as snappy as it sounded. He turned around stalking out of the room cautiously.

You trailed behind him, looking behind you to see one agent rounding the corner. You raised your gun and shot them in the arms, not lethal but definitely enough to knock them out. You looked forward again, hearing grunts and punches landing. You rounded the corner, hoping that it wasn’t Steve who was receiving such painful sounding punches. You felt your body relax when he saw that he had taken out six agents. He may have been a good fighter but he wasn’t perfect. When he turned around he avoided eye contact, but you saw the gash on his right shoulder. He kicked his foot down, causing the shield to fly up and allowing his arm to grab it before ordering you to follow him.

You started to move but one of the agents that were lying on the ground cocked his gun and aimed it at you. You froze, staring at his bloodied mouth curl up, watching his finger move slowly towards the trigger before hearing him fire. You closed your eyes and flinched, waiting to feel the bullet pierce through your skin. You opened one eye, looking at the wall to your right and seeing a very familiar shield wedged into the wall. You looked over to where the agent was lying, seeing him shot dead. Steve was at the other end of the hallway, eyes trained on the agent, a gun pointed at the dead body. You let out a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding, tears pricking your eyes. You swallowed again, blinking away the tears. You grabbed the shield, following him out of the building.

You raced to get on the plane, feeling it begin to take off once the both of you were on it. Steve had his back to you. You looked down to see the shield in your hands. Your fingers traced over the scratch marks and a fresh bullet mark on it. The black spot was warm, it caused a cold shiver to travel up your spine, thinking about what could have happened if the shield wasn’t there. If Steve wasn’t there. You turned and started walking deeper into the plane, looking for Steve. You saw Natasha and Agent Hill by Tony who was flying the plane. You kept walking towards the emergency medical wing, spotting Steve going through the cabinets in the room. You knocked gently on the door, catching his attention. He opened the door, looking at you silently before his eyes trailed to his shield. You handed him his beloved armor.

“Thank you.” You said quietly. You looked up at him again and saw that his fingers were tracing the same bullet mark that you were minutes ago.

“You’re not coming on our next mission.”  He said harshly, catching you by surprise. You blinked a few times, processing the words that just came out of his mouth.

“What?” You asked, more to yourself than him.

“You’re off the next mission.” He turned around again, setting the shield down by the door, looking through the drawers.

“You can’t do that!” You argued, angry that he thought he could control you and tell you what to do. He ignored your protest, eyes scanning the labels on the many bottles he had taken out.

“I’m going on the next mission whether you liked it or not. There is no reason for me to be taken off of it.” At your words Steve snapped his head towards you, standing up to his full height.

“You’re off the next three missions.”

“You can’t do that!” You exclaimed again, throwing your hands up in anger.

“I just did.” He muttered, pushing past you. You followed behind him, refusing to let this go by.

Keep reading

City of Love

Pairing: Teacher!Derek x Teacher!Reader

Warning: NSFW, 18+, spanking, vaginal sex, oral (fem receiving, and male), no dk unfortunately

A/n: It’s very rare that I write fluffy Derek smut, but damn I do love it as well. This was a request, and I did alter the request slightly so apologizes but I just find this works <3 Thank you to @ninja-stiles for reading through this <3

Masterlist

Originally posted by iminlovewithderekhale


“Remember class, we’re meeting at the airport tomorrow morning at four am.” You announce to your class full of teenagers who were chatting among one another. You could tell they were excited about their trip to Paris, France but you could bet you were more excited than all them put together. It was always a dream of yours to go to Paris, you loved everything about the city.

When your principal asked you to organize a trip abroad for your class, you couldn’t help but choose the one place that fascinated you the most. You ran it through the school board, highlighting the array of activities that were available over in France; The Louvre, The Eiffel Tower and Disneyland. Six days away from Beacon Hills was everything you needed.

“Miss Y/L/N, what other teachers are coming with us?”

“Miss Martin and Mr Hale.” His name fell from your lips with a hiss, and the class giggle at your tone. “Right, have a good evening and I’ll see you bright eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow.”

Keep reading

“I don’t like cats” - Bruce Wayne x Reader

“i love your stories. i have become addicted and i was wondering if you could write a batmom story of were selina kyle doesn’t know bruce is married and she comes to the manor in a very sexy outfit and batmom and the boys walk in on that and it very awkard. thanks :)” requested by @cheesecake-chic

Well, first, thank you, and then : here it is. I know a lot of you tell me I shouldn’t think my writing is shit, but with this one, I’m really…unsure. Meh, it’s all over the place. Anyway. Hope you’ll still like it

(My masterlist blog here : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com)

_________________________________________________

Today, Bruce woke up with the feeling that something bad was going to happen. Usually, his guts were always right and he spent the entire morning on edge…

But as the hours went by, and he saw that everyone was safe, he relaxed a bit. When your lips kissed his cheek lovingly as you came down in the kitchen for breakfast, he let go a little bit. When his sons didn’t even fight once, he let go a little bit. When Alfred made the best pancakes ever, he let go a little bit. When his hands wrapped around your waist to bring you closer, and his lips kissed your neck, while his sons made loud “ewwww” noises, he let go even more…And by noon, he was his normal self again. Still slightly worried about everything, a bit broody and all (though your presence made him smile like an idiot), but not waiting for a catastrophe anymore.

And oh how wrong he was to let his guard down. 

It was 10 pm when all Hell broke loose (ok, he was over-exagerating). 

It was 10 pm when Selina Kyle knocked on the Manor door, wearing a dress that was revealing a lot of skin. 

It was 10 pm when Selina Kyle invited herself in the Wayne family house, and after a sexy “Long time no see Bat” and her sultriest look, kissed Bruce without any warning as he was coming to the entrance hall to see who rung the door, curious of who came to visit at such an hour.

It was 10 pm when you came in as well, with all of your kids, wondering too who was ringing so late in the evening. 

Reflexively, as you all witnessed your Bruce pushing Catwoman away (oh the bitch stuck her tongue in his mouth !), your two oldest sons, Dick and Jason, held your shoulders…Just in case you decided to jump on Selina you know, and like, kill her or something. It was notoriously known that when you were jealous, you were dangerous. Granted, you weren’t often jealous, as Bruce only had eyes for you, and mostly ignored women who were hitting on him unsubtly (though none of them would ever dare doing it in front of you, and if they did, your natural sarcasm and wits would humiliate them right on the spot). 

Bruce’s eyes were going between you and Selina, and the worry he felt earlier in the day came surging back. He knew how well you and Selina fought, if you decided to attack, it would be a disaster…

But it didn’t seem like you were reacting. At all. Your sons were holding you by your shoulders, waiting to use all their strength to hold you if need be. Damian and Tim’s stance also showed they were ready to intervene. 

But you weren’t really reacting. You were just looking at Selina blankly, as if the things you just saw were trying to register themselves in your head. 

Keep reading

I Know Your Wife (She Wouldn’t Mind) - Part Thirteen

Summary: You travel to Rome and meet up with the Padaleckis. Thomas has some questions about your relationship, and you fight homesickness by FaceTiming with Danneel and JJ
Words: 4k
Jared x Reader x Gen, Misha, Tom, Shep, Jensen, Danneel, JJ
Warnings: brief angst
Beta: @blacksiren

IKYW Masterpost

Your name: submit What is this?

You and Misha drove back down to London on Monday, the day before your flight out to Rome.

Seeing as you hadn’t visited the UK before, he insisted that you fit as many tourist-y things into the one day you had.

Keep reading

Let's Pretend (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Epilogue ❤️

A/N: Here it is you guys! The Epilogue! *cries historically* I just wanted to say thank you to all of you who’ve stuck with this story! It’s my first series and y'all are hella awesome for all the positivity!! 😭❤ Please excuse any misspelling! And most of all, enjoy! - Delilah ❤

Warnings: Mentions of sex. Fluff. 

Series Masterlist

Keep reading

Bad Match Pt 5/?

Series Summary: Bucky and the Reader are set up on a date, but things don’t go as well as expected.  

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Word Count: 3064

Warnings: angst, self-hatred, jealousy, swearing, slow burn.

A/N: Thank you Mee, @imhereforbvcky  you rock my world with your notes!  

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

Bucky couldn’t take his gaze away from the soft hand that was entangled with his. He kept his body completely still and was breathing silently, so he wouldn’t wake up the sleeping form next to his bed. Y/N… she looked so peaceful, even if the position she was in was anything but comfortable for someone to sleep. She was sitting on the floor with her back to the wall. Her head leaning on his bed, while she kept her free hand on her lap. He thought about the pain that she was sure to feel after.

It had been the sunlight peeking from the balcony’s curtains that had woken him up to face the guest in his room. His mind hadn’t process right away what had happened, but then he knew… it must have been one of those nightmare filled nights and he probably got loud. Steve wasn’t there so she must have been fed up with his screams and had no choice but to go to him.

Keep reading

Finding Closure (Part 2)

Summary: AU. Reader left behind a hometown full of misery to make a new home in Brooklyn. A death in the family forces her to briefly return to the place that has haunted her dreams and memories for three years. Will she finally be able to move on, or will a figure from the past change everything?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 3,682

Warnings: angst, language, more angst, mentions of sexytimes (so I’ll slap a NSFW-but-not-really label on this), flashbacks, mentions of alcoholism

A/N: This is the 2nd part of my submission for the talented and wonderful @tatortot2701 ‘s AU writing challenge.  I took a fluffy prompt and darkened it. My heart has an owwie.

My prompt was 28 .“____ is not a real word.” “Yes it is!”

Part:  1 - 2 - 3 -

Originally posted by heartfularry

Keep reading

Just a dream

ARCHIE X READER IS HERE YAY

Originally posted by songsoftheheartless

Authors Note: I am doing a sentence prompt, “It was just a dream” because Archie feels mkay? So on with the story! :)

Warnings: I don’t think there are any, just nightmares


Archie, Betty, Jughead, and Y/N had been best friends since childhood. The summer before Jason was killed, Archie and Jughead grew apart, and from that, Y/N, along with Betty, grew apart from Archie. Y/N and Betty spent most of their time together their freshman year of high school, and the summer Jason was killed, they grew closer than ever. The week before school, when Veronica Lodge came to town, something tragic happened for the second time that summer in peaceful old Riverdale. Y/N went missing, and a few days later, they found her parents’ bodies in her old house. 


“911, what is your emergency?” 

“Hello, I’d like to report a missing person, she’s been found.”

“What is your name sir? Can you ID her?”

“My name is Archie Andrews, and the girl’s name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

Keep reading

Into You

A lovely anon requested: hey babe, I’m in love with your imagines you are such a good writter and I was wondering if you could do one with Peter Parker based on the music video of into you by ariana grande, thanks bb”

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Heavily implied sexy times, but no smut. Heavily implied cheating.

Word Count: 5, 096

Summary: In their early twenties, Peter Parker and the reader have been life-long friends. The reader has anything everyone could ever want; they went to their dream school, landed their dream job, and have the dream boyfriend. However, he’s not Peter Parker.

Masterlist


A/N: I watched the music video and I wasn’t sure as to whether or not it was okay to write as an AU so I guess it ended up being semi-AU-ish in the sense that I made him and the reader in their early twenties. I wrote this piece as how I interpreted the storyline of the music video and I hope it turned out okay! It is so much longer than I thought it would be because I’m Way Too Extra ™. 


Originally posted by thr0wyourdem0ns

Originally posted by juliechavira


Into You by Ariana Grande

You wake up to the sound of soft snores and a slight pounding in your head. When you open your eyes, the light peeking through the worn out curtains is blinding. You immediately shut your eyes as the subtle brightness seems to enhance your headache. It take you a few moments before you build up the courage to let your eyelids peel back again and the light doesn’t seem as harsh anymore.

Once your eyes have been well adjusted, you scan your surroundings without moving another muscle. Your focus wanders from the empty red cups and half-empty packs of candy on the little desk, the cards splayed out on the stained carpet floor, to your clothes that are strewn all over the arm chair, and finally lands on the form next you; the source of the aforementioned soft snores. He has one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you close, his face is buried in the pillow with only his soft brown locks peeking out, and the white sheets are gathered around his hips, exposing his toned and bruised back. You smile as memories from the previous night come flooding back.

You hadn’t told each other explicitly, but you sure as hell both felt it. Instead of using words, you used your bodies; passionate kisses, light touches, and clinging to each other like your lives depended on it.

To say that you’re “into him” is the biggest understatement of the century.

Keep reading

Siniy (Intro)

A/N: hey y’all! this is a new series that i started working on all the way in December, but never got around to publishing. Idk why it took me so long, but I really like this story so far. Siniy means “blue” in Russian and it’s of super importance throughout the story! I hope you guys like it! ENJOY! - Delilah

Siniy: Reader is an Avenger with her good friends, but unlike them, she’s not a demi god, millionaire, super soldier, or a science experiment. She’s got a whole other dilemma: she’s not of this world. Things happen, and she finds herself on the run with Team Cap in Bucharest, along with catching the eye of Bucky Barnes.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Warnings: Flashbacks of violence. That’s literally it lol. 


The way you met Natasha Romanoff, your dearest friend, was by complete accident. Or so you think, she always counters with the whole “fate” belief, but you knew better. 

It was perfect example of being in the right place at the right time. Had you not been there, she probably wouldn’t have been alive today and she made sure you knew that.

It was 2012. You were just eighteen years old at the time and had only been in New York City for three years. It was supposed to be a normal day for you like always. You had just spent the day skipping class to rid yourself of the bullies that followed you around like you always did. You boarded the subway east like you always did.

But that day was far from regular.

Unlike usual, you took a second to read a text you had gotten from your brother. You stopped in the middle of the crowded street and covered your phone with your hand, trying to make out the content.The sounds of a Paramore song blaring loudly through your headphones blocked out most of the noise from the city. As you processed the meme your brother had sent you, that’s when you heard it.It similar to a thunder storm, only there was not one cloud in sight that day. Suddenly, that’s when they came from the sky.

The Chitauri.

And they attacked everything in sight.

You took shelter in one of the antique shops with a few other citizens, watching as the famous Black Widow fall from one of the flying alien air crafts and landing onto a destroyed car below. You winced as she landed on the metal, her head slamming against it with a loud crack. Seeing her state of vulnerability, one of the Chitauri shot at the bottom of a fire escape behind her, causing one of the latches to fly off with a loud sound and slowly begin its descent towards her.

It was pure instinct. You had absolutely no intentions of exposing yourself, but you couldn’t just let her die there. She was an Avenger, the world needed her.

Before you knew it, you were lying on top of her. Instead of the antique shop you once stood in, you both were on the other side of the block, far from the broken fire escape that was now nothing but a pile of rubble on top of the car.

You blinked, and this time, you were standing.

Her blue eyes stared up at you, wide with shock and confusion as she tried to piece two and two together. One minute she was lying on the concrete, waiting for the metal to crush her, then the next, she was on an entirely different street. How was this possible?

You, some random person, had saved her life.

But at a price.

By now, people had come out of the antique shop, amongst various other stores as well, and began gathering around the two of you in a small crowd. Who was this mysterious girl that had just saved Black Widow? And how did she get there in the nick of time?

“Who are you?” She asked, her eyes focused on you and taking in your unnatural blue hair and eyebrows. Her eyes widened even more as she noticed the small, baby blue freckles peppered across your nose. She instantly realized that she had asked the wrong question. What were you?

You blushed at the sudden attention and placed the small beanie you wore back onto your head. You were caught red handed this time and everyone had already seen your face.

Instead of answering, you backed away slowly, eyeing all the people around you warily. They all began whispering to each other in hushed voices, pointing in your direction. You could hear their thoughts as they came to you as though they were being spoken out loud.

Who is she?

Is she an Avenger, too?

What’s up with her hair?

Is she one of those mutants?

How did she get to her so fast?

Being the king of person you were, you did the only rational thing you thought of at the time.

You ran.


It was a week later and you were a nervous wreck each time the doorbell or house phone rang.

New York was in the process of being rebuilt by the government, along with Tony Stark and the Avengers, who was gracious enough. The aftermath of their battle had left the city in crumbles, much to the President’s dismay.

You, on the other hand, had completely shut out what happened a week ago and you prayed it would stay that way. Nobody had gotten any pictures of you which meant that the internet was a safe place. They had no way of contacting or finding you, which was good so far.

You had no intentions of being found. Patricia, your adoptive mother had gone through so much already with moving your family here. She loved New York, and you didn’t want to mess that up once again. There were over eight million people in New York City, not to mention there were probably thousands of girls with blue hair. What are the odds of SHIELD finding you? Slim to none!

You thought about the previous events absentmindedly as you grabbed your bag and headed out the front door of your family’s apartment. You tried to reassure yourself that, with all that happened, you were probably out of the woman’s head by now. She probably didn’t even remember you.

Boy, how you were wrong.

It took you few seconds to notice her, as she was standing at the bottom steps outside of your apartment, waiting silently. You just assumed she was either a neighbor or waiting for someone, which wasn’t unusual. But as soon as you planted your feet on the sidewalk, you froze.

She was a lot smaller than you’d seen from the videos on YouTube and you were a pretty tall girl, but with her killer looks and curves, you were instantly reminded what she was capable of. And you were reminded of how you heavily resembled a linguine noodle.

A frightened linguine noodle, to be exact.

“You know,” she says, stepping closer to you. “You’re quite hard to find, kid. Turns out there’s exactly six thousand and twenty girls in this city with blue hair. But only one with matching eyebrows, too.” 

You let out a nervous laugh as you backed away, peering over your shoulder.

“Look, Miss Black Widow Lady,” you spoke, peering up at your apartment warily. “My mom and brother cannot find out about this! She’d lose her mind if she found out I’m not keeping a low profile!” You sounded like one of those overly-dependent children you saw on Dr. Phil and she smirked with amusement.

“I’m not here to out you, kid. I’m here to offer you a job.”

Your eyes could have shot out of your skull with how hard you were staring at the redheaded woman. “A job?” you questioned, raising your eyebrows in suspicion. “Doing what?”

“Joining the Avengers. Stark was really curious when I told him about my near death experience with you.”

“Stark,” I say. “You mean Tony Stark? Playboy millionaire son of Howard Stark?

“Well, yeah,” she says with a playful eye roll. “I don’t think there’s any other guys with the same name out there. What do you say, Y/N? Are you in?”

She held out her hand, but you just stared at her like the dork you were. There was the possibility she was just completely bamboozling you and just here to lead you to your arrest or something worse, but she seemed completely honest.

But at the same time, Patricia would shit bricks if she found out. You promised her you’d try your best to stay out of trouble, but here you were, about to not only break that promise, but go against everything you stood for. How could you explain it to her once she found out? Everyone knew who the Avengers were. Everyone.

You bit your lip as you stared at her hand. You were very tempted to meet Tony Stark, though. You may or may not have had a crush on the guy as a child. That and if she was telling the truth, you’d be able to be a part of something great for once and not hide your true nature. you’d be with people like you.

With a deep breath, you shook her hand.  

“Deal.”


-Fin!

*squeals* i hope you guys liked it!! *alien theme song plays in the background* 

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Tags are open for this series!

Even if... -(으)ㄴ들 (-ㄴ/는다고 한들)

Back with more advanced grammar for you! This time, we’ll look at one of Korean’s many ways to say “even if…”. When should we use this one? How is it different from other ways to say the same thing? Let’s take a look.


Function

This form is used when you want to indicate that the information in the preceding clause has little or no impact on the following clause, or when you want to indicate that something different to the outcome you expected has happened. In English, this can be very comfortably translated to “Even if…”. 

There are already other ways to say the same thing in Korean, and they are more or less interchangeable. The only difference is in how likely the situation in the following clause is to occur.

As you can see, this form is pretty low on the “expected outcome likely to happen” scale, so you don’t want to use it for situations where the hypothesized outcome is fairly certain to be what actually occurs!


Usage

This form can be used with action verbs, descriptive verbs, and nouns alike in the past and present tenses! In the present tense simply add -은들 if the verb ends with a consonant, or -ㄴ들 if the verb ends with a vowel or you are using the grammar with a noun + 이다. In the past tense, conjugate the verb to past tense and add -다고 한들. Also, you can conjugate the verb to the past tense and add the retrospective -더 before adding -ㄴ들. When used in this manner, there is sometimes (but not always!) a sense of reflecting on a past situation in a regretful or desirous way. In the following clause would come a desired or better outcome that did not actually occur.

This grammar can also appear in the form -ㄴ/는다(고) 한들.

Action verbs:

PAST: -았/었다(고) 한들

  • 바로 1시간 전에 밥을 먹었다 한들 아직까지 배가 부를까? (Even if he just ate an hour ago do you think he would be hungry by now?)
  • 제가 아무리 많이 컸다 한들 제게 아기 때 붙여주신 애칭을 쓰시는 할머니께서 저를 어른 대접 해주시는 건 불가능한 것 같아요. (No matter how much I’ve grown, it seems impossible for my grandmother, who still uses my baby pet name, to treat me as an adult.)

PAST RETROSPECTIVE: -았/었던들

  • 파티에서 좀 더 일찍 나갔던들 그렇게 많이 마시지 않았을 테고 지갑도 잃어버리지 않았을 거예요… (If I had left the party a bit earlier, I wouldn’t have drank so much and I wouldn’t have lost my wallet…)
  • 그 친구를 좀 더 소중하게 여겼던들 계속 친하게 지낼 수 있었을까? (Even if I had not taken that friend for granted, would we still be close?) [LIT- If I had considered that friend a bit more preciously…])
  • 그 친구를 좀 더 소중하게 여겼던들 어차피 내가 이사 가버릴 거라서 별로 친하게 지내지도 못 했을 것이다. (Even if I had not taken that friend for granted, I would have moved away anyway so we wouldn’t have been able to be that close.) [NOTE: We can feel little/no sense of regret, but there is some reflection and the content of the preceding clause has little/no impact on the outcome in the following clause]

PRESENT: -(으)ㄴ들 / -ㄴ/는다고 한들

  • 매일 밤 잠을 3시간밖에 못 잔들 (잔다고 한들) 그래도 돈이나 많이 벌 수 있겠어요? (Even if I can’t sleep any more than three hours each night, is it possible to earn a lot of money?)
  • 돈을 10년 동안 열심히 모아 둔들 (모아 둔다고 한들) 그렇게 비싼 차를 살 수 없어요.  (Even if I save money for ten years, I couldn’t buy such an expensive car.)
  • 공부를 아예 안 한들 (한다고 한들) 시험에 합격할 수 있다고 생각해요? (Even if you don’t study at all, do you think you can pass the the exam?)


Descriptive verbs:

PAST: -았/었다(고) 한들

  • 제 이력서가 뛰어났다 한들 사장님은 아들을 고용하고 싶어해서 제가 고용될 가망이 없었어요. (Even though my resume was outstanding, the boss wanted to hire his son so I had no chance of getting hired.)
  • 그 케이크가 아무리 맛있었다 한들 상희 씨는 알레르기가 있으니까 먹지는 않았을 거예요. (No matter how delicious that cake was, Sanghee has an allergy so he wouldn’t have eaten it anyway.)

PAST RETROSPECTIVE: -았/었던들

  • 어렸을 때 더 외향적이었든들 대학교 때 친구를 더 쉽게 사귈 순 없었을 거예요. (Even if I had been more extroverted when I was younger, I would not have been able to make friends more easily at university.)
  • 성적이 좀 더 좋았던들 더 좋은 대학교를 다닐 수 있었을 텐데… (If my grades had been better I would have been able to attend a better university…)

PRESENT: -(으)ㄴ들 / -다(고) 한들

  • 윤서 씨가 아무리 예쁜들 (예쁘다 한들) 계속 남들 뒷담화를 하면 누가 윤서 씨랑 친해지고 싶겠어요? (No matter how pretty Yoonseo is, if she keeps talking about others behind their backs who will want to be close with her?)
  • 가격이 많이 저렴한들 (저렴하다 한들) 이렇게 품질이 안 좋은 걸 사는 사람은 거의 없을 것 같아요. (Even if the price is really cheap it seems like there would be hardly anyone buying something of such poor quality.)
  • 상준 씨가 아무리 친절한들 (친절하다 한들) 음주운전을 하다가 상준 씨의 어머니를 죽인 사람은 절대로 용서하지 못해요. (No matter how nice Sangjun is, he can never forgive the person who killed his mother while drunk driving.)


Nouns:

PAST: -이었/였다(고) 한들

  • 그날 소개팅으로 만난 남자가 세상에서 가장 멋있는 남자였다 한들 성격이 너무 안 좋아서 계속 만나지는 않았을 거예요. (Even if the man I met on a blind date that day was the coolest guy on earth, his personality was so bad that I wouldn’t have continued meeting him.)
  • 오래된 빌딩이 아니었다고 한들 주변에 거의 아무 것도 없어서 거기서 살고 싶어하는 사람은 거의 없었을 거예요. (Even if it was not an old building, there was nothing nearby so nobody would have wanted to live there.)

PAST RETROSPECTIVE: -이었/였던들

  • 제가 좀 더 부지런한 사람이었던들 대회 신청 기한을 놓치지 않았을 거예요. (If I had been a more diligent person, I wouldn’t have missed the contest application deadline.)
  • 제가 학교를 다닐 때 게으른 사람이었던들 공부를 할 땐 열심히 했어요. (Even though I was lazy when I was in school, I studied hard.)

PRESENT: -인들 / -(이)라(고) 한들

  • 준호 씨가 아무리 부지런한 사람인들 (사람이라 한들) 2주일 치 일을 1주일 만에 하지는 못할 거예요. (No matter how diligent a person Junho is, he won’t be able to finish two weeks’ work within a week.)
  • 아무리 예쁜 원피스인들 (원피스라 한들) 한두 번만 입을 옷에 그렇게 큰 돈을 쓸 수 있는 사람은 많지 않아요. (No matter how pretty the dress is, there aren’t many people who can spend that much money on something they will wear only once or twice.)


Honestly, this grammar form (and thus, this post) gave me a TON of trouble. If you check the Schedule link at the top of the page with any regularity, you might have noticed that the scheduled posting date for this particular post got pushed back more than once, and that was because I was busy trying to wrap my brain around the concept, haha! Anyway, I hope that this post is as helpful to you as the process of struggling to write it was to me!

Happy studying~

I hate you │1

All you’ve ever wanted was a peaceful student life, but when a vicious fuckboy gets involved in your business, everything changes.

Originally posted by jeonify

member: Jeon Jungkook x reader

genre: fluff, romance, angst

word count: 1740

warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook badboy!Jungkook; 

I hate you Masterlist 123 4 5 6 7 (ongoing)

A/N: This is the very first fic I wrote, I already have the next part planned, so please tell me what you think, what you liked and disliked. I’ll try to take your suggestions into account 


Being a university student was new for you,  exciting but scary at the same time. Having gotten a scholarship and being the straight-A student all your life, you felt pressured. How would the freshmen year ago? What kind of new experiences would it bring? 

You were deep into thoughts when someone loudly opened the door stopping your lecturer from speaking. Your head involuntarily followed the loud click of the door just to be met with the muscular grinning boy in ripped jeans and a white oversized T-shirt. Only when his eyes found yours you realized you’d been staring at him. 

“Not bad for the first day”, you thought to yourself, breaking the stare not to seem rude, but still looking at the guy from the corner of your eyes as he slowly sank into his chair and plugged his earphones in.  What was the point of attending a lecture if he didn’t even listen to the lecturer? He was handsome, you’d give him that, but he definitely was not the guy for you, or so you thought.

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