this is what made me realise it needs to get better

This is for @uncannycookie since I asked if they wanted anything and they requested something about Mob going with Teruki to get his ears pierced, so here it is!

But then I also found I wanted to do the entire scene and I didn’t have time to draw it all so… I wrote fanfiction for the first time in my entire life. Writing is very much not my forte so I hope I didn’t make too many mistakes. I just thought it was a cute fluffy scene. Ummm, I hope you like it! *screaming over writing*


“You didn’t have to come you know,” Teruki said as he opened the door, a bell gently chiming above them. “It’s going to be fairly quick to get done.” He held the door open for Mob before shutting it behind them, leaving behind a crisp Autumn day and becoming encased in the warm, dark interior of the shop.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

If the art was that good people would see it anyway. Without the artist needing to reblog it 100 times

I see you’re stemming from liv’s @larvesta own answer about this and I’m not gonna lie, I’m really hesitant about saying anything on the matter bc i don’t do this kind of thing but I realise people actually think this way so here’s a proper answer. 

It doesn’t work that way. I should know, I should really know. People here on Tumblr get lucky often and you wouldn’t think that, especially if you don’t create content yourself. Things just don’t become popular all of a sudden, most of the time it needs to get reblogged by the right person and add the balance between having good content yourself as well as an ongoing status as a creator. Not to mention how you go about treating your followers, your personality and how you act here. And you’ll tell me; “But people with good art have so many notes! It must be because they’re good! See, you don’t need to reblog it so many times!”

I hope you know what it feels like to be an artist here because I do. I especially do. I have talked, reblogged, supported, and have met so many, too many artists here, some insanely obscure. Some whose work looks like it took so many hours and has very little over 50 notes; my work included. And I can tell you now that I can personally handpick and tell you that some of the work I’m most proud of and have took many hours on are not over 200 notes. I’m not saying I’m frustrated by that, because some of us are reassured in our skill but let me tell you that every time I think of a fellow artist out there who releases amazing art and earns very little notes who looks at their note count and wonders if they are good enough, my heart breaks. And there’s young artists who are still getting by, who are not as good yet but took the same amount of effort and time, they deserve to be cheered on. 

Because people think artists here are machines, capable of creating content without regards to who actually appreciates it. No one is like that, artists are fragile just like everyone else and people really forget that. They really do. 

People don’t just see the art out of nowhere, do you understand the huge amount in this platform? There’s millions of work everywhere, you need to be supported to be seen, you need to withstand the thousands of others around you and you might have to create something that’s away from the norm to stand out, you might have to take hours of your time. You don’t know unless you really indulge yourself this platform, you don’t know unless you yourself do work for more than four hours, no breaks and absolutely tired, and look at your note count to see a disheartening number. You have no idea, you really don’t.

And don’t guilt them, please. I could reblog my art so many times, but sometimes the thougt of ‘maybe it gets annoying’ always bears in my mind, artists are made to feel like it’s okay that they’re not being appreciated. I’m proud of those who reblog their art because they know they deserve better, and guess what? They do.  

There’s a difference between good content and popular content, popular content aimed towards a specific audience that you know will like and reblog that. Good content is a dangerous hit and miss. I really appreciate people who do art for things that are not popular, because sometimes they really do have to rely solely on their skills. I say it’s a dangerous hit and miss because you know it might not have that specific audience, but you still take the effort and time into it anyway. Imagine that; knowing something is popular but going for the alternative anyway; taking time, taking effort, putting your all into it. That’s absolutely insane, man. Imagine knowing you can put that time and effort into something popular that might attract way more notes, but still doing something else for the sake of that something else. 

Also there’s the matter of timezones, in which there’s a worldly concept that everyone is in different times and not everyone is here at the same time to see the same content. I don’t want to explain this; please at least understand the concept of time. 

Artists reblog their work because they want others to see it, to appreciate it. Because sometimes it’s the only way others can. Reblogging their own work is an artist’s way of supporting themselves and you think I’m going to let you let them think that that’s a bad thing? That they’re not allowed to do that? Go home, buddy. 

I don’t have anything against anyone, I just wrote this realising that people actually think this is actually how it works and even then, I don’t have anything against you, maybe you’re just misinformed, some just don’t know enough about this to really understand. 

So here it is buds: support artists supporting themselves. It’s as simple as that. 

A LIST OF SWAN QUEEN FAN FICTION

B/C I KNOW Y’ALL ARE TIRED OF LOOKING FOR SWANQUEEN FANFIC RECS ON TUMBLR SO HERES THE GOOD SHIT.

  • all of these are in english
  • if you have any recommendations or additions, please let me know!
  • some fanfictions that i originally planned to include on this list were deleted by their authors :( 


CLASSICS (favorites)

The Art Of Being Extraordinary - if you haven’t read this already, wyd? The ending will destroy you - be prepared to cry. 

Letters From War - another extremely well known fic among swen. a heart-wrenching and beautifully written AU fic. even if AUs aren’t your thing, seriously, give this one a try.

Emma is a soldier on reserve in Fort Benning. Regina is the Mayor of Storybrooke. Through a pen pal program designed to ease the ache of homesick soldiers, Emma and Regina begin sending letters to one another as their relationship grows from cordial acquaintance to something neither woman would have expected - until the letters stop coming.

A Trail Of Destruction - DEFINITELY a classic imo. this is one of my favorite fanfictions of all time.

A hostage situation in City Hall leaves behind a battered, broken sheriff, and a mayor wracked with guilt. Trigger warnings for violence and gun threats and general angst. Slow-burn swan queen.

Miles To Go - AU; emma and regina meet at a party and the rest is history. this ones pretty long (80 chapters), but so worth the read! angsty & lots of ‘sexy times’ 

Everyone has their own story, this one is theirs and it paints the picture of a love story that spans over two decades, with all the ups and downs and everything else in between. SwanQueen AU
 

Of Love and Loathing - a lot of angry sex in the beginning, which eventually turns into lovey sex. another well known and well written fic - this author is one of my favorites. *reaaallyyy hot smut 

“I have been sleeping with someone,” Regina began tentatively, an acute awareness that once she said the words out loud that the madness behind her highly unorthodox situation became all the more real, “whom I absolutely loathe.” •Emma/Regina•

Meet me Halfway - one of the first swan queen fan fictions i ever read! still a classic to this day. AU

Emma Swan works hard every night as a bartender, struggling to raise her son and save up enough to own her own bar. Regina Mills is an upper class New York photographer who wouldn’t normally spare a second glance at people below her. When their paths cross, their lives adapt to each other, but how much are they willing to change?

Love Undefined - in the process of re-reading this one because of how much i love it. angsty as hell but such a beautiful story.

It’s been eight years since the last time Regina and Emma saw each other, eight years since Emma lost part of her happiness, her family, and everything fell apart. But she hasn’t forgotten those three years in New York, or any of what Regina had brought into her life. A late night phone call to Regina takes Emma back eleven years to when they met, saved each other from loneliness, and Emma started learning what it meant to live. She relives the moments that had changed her life for the better, and even the ones that had hurt.

Teacher’s Pet - KNOWN AS THE ONE TEACHER/STUDENT FANFIC THAT EVERYONE HAS READ. 

Emma Swan is starting her senior year. Her friends tell her about the Creative Writing teacher that she has on her schedule and how no one had passed her class with an A, not even her bookworm friend, Belle. What will she do? And who exactly is this ‘bitchy Evil Queen’ as they claim her to be? SwanQueen. Student/Teacher. M for language and future chapters.

Lost in Translation - i wasn’t sure about this before reading it but i LOVED it. the description pretty much sums it up.

AU. Regina is deaf. Emma is the only one who refuses to give her pity. In response, Regina is thrilled by this new challenge and the stand-offs commence, but over time she finds out there is more to the blonde woman than just a target to throw a stinging quip and pointed glare at.

Send Up a Signal - emma and regina are actresses and their fans ship them with each other. ;)

Emma Swan is catapulted into stardom, the newest lead actress on a sanitized show featuring modern fairytales. Regina Mills is a long-undermined star with a chip on her shoulder and a thousand reasons why she’s invested. Naturally, they loathe each other on sight.Their characters’ fanbases, however, have other ideas.

Reset - SO. GOOD. 95 chapters. if you’re looking for long fanfics, this is for you. 

Following the breaking of the curse everyone in Storybrooke is finding their happy ending, with one exception. Resigning herself to having lost Henry’s love and respect forever, Regina decides there is only one path available to her.

Take Me Home Tonight - AU!! lots of smut :) this is a newer one that i’ve seen around twitter and tumblr and i really enjoyed it! this one’s pretty short (14 chapters)

AU: Nineteen year old Emma Swan is a senior at the exclusive all girls boarding school, Foxhaven Academy. When her friends find out she’s a virgin they send her to the city to find a guy to take her v-card. But Emma is more interested in a sexy older woman she meets in a bar. A SwanQueen story.

The Staircase - non-consensual sex in the first chapter, so please be aware of that; its not for eveyone. this story is very dark but has a happy ending i promise!

Regina could still smell her cologne and feel the cheap pleather pressing into her back. The brunette sucked in a breath. She was still lying on the floor at the staircase’s base and she stared back up at it. Everything was different now. Changed. She felt broken by what had just happened, appalled and enraged, dirty. WARNING: NC17 for non-consensual sex. Dark. (But gets lighter.)

the trouble with emma - very very well known within the swan queen community. i’ll be honest, i never really got into the story but i can acknowledge that it is the most well-written fanfiction i have read to date. the author is truly talented. (the first in a series of fanfics)

Post ep 4x23, Emma becomes the Dark One and learns nothing is quite as it seems or as simple as black versus white. When Regina removes the curse no one in Storybrooke is prepared for the far reaching fallout which leaves none of their lives unaltered or untouched, least of all Regina’s.

SMUT 

shadow haven  - the one smut fic everyone has read.

Emma Swan is a PR agent who is sent on a holiday by her boss. Regina Mills is the owner of a private island named Shadow Haven. There is more to Regina than initially meets the eye. This story dips heavily into the BDSM subculture. Swan Queen romance / BDSM story.

the wicked stepmother - the one kinky fic everyone has read- or attempted to. i couldn’t get through the whole thing but the first few chapters,,, holy hell.

When the Evil Queen catches baby Emma along with Snow White, she decides on a new revenge. In Storybrooke, Snow White will be allowed to raise her daughter… but on her eighteenth birthday, Regina will come for her. Emma might just enjoy that.

in control  - Regina had never been in the habit of relinquishing control, but when it came to Emma Swan, she was starting to find out that giving in had its benefits. - Established Swan Queen - One Shot. Rated M for language and content.

the collar - It will carry strong mature themes as well as a Mistress/Slave relationship but it is also a lot more than that. However, as a warning this story will celebrate the shades of grey of our favourite couple as they find their way to each other and will deal with darker elements of their characters. Emma’s history differs a little from canon but will be covered by the story but there is no Henry and she is an adult in this fiction.

a little taste  - author of A Fine Line and Letters from War. 

Emma has been desperate to know what it’s like to kiss the smirk off of Regina Mills, but when she finally gets the chance, it doesn’t seem to be enough.

tempest - A storm ushers in an expected opportunity for Regina to finally rid herself of Emma Swan. She will posses the sheriff’s heart and then crush it. But what happens when nothing goes as planned? Rated M for language and Swan Queen sexytimes.

come on be nice - Regina has decided that the quickest way to get rid of Emma Swan is to scare off the commitment phobic woman with a come-on. This, as with many of Regina’s plans, does not go as, well, planned. Rated M for Swan Queen sex.

black lace - Emma and Henry find a way around the 'no visiting’ rule involving binoculars and the walkie talkie. Emma’s attention is fully on her son, she truly doesn’t intend to watch Regina at all. At least until the mayor begins undressing in front of her window..

dirty words - Regina is plagued by thoughts of a certain blonde. Deciding she is in need of cathartic release, she writes a quick narrative in hopes of cleansing her system. However, by a happy accident, the story falls into the wrong hands. What will Emma do with this new and intriguing insight into the mayor’s mind?

damn you, miss swan  Emma visits the mayor one night with a bottle of wine to cheer her up. Anger issues and smeared lippy ensues. WARNING: Includes a non-explicit passing reference to rape. This is my first story. A/N Jan 2015: Way back when I wrote this, no one knew anyone’s back stories, so I just made up stuff. Don’t be upset for canon divergence if you read it now. It wasn’t canon then.

mirror tricks The Evil Queen has made her way to Storybrooke, but she only seems to be interested in one thing: Emma. When Regina realises this, her jealousy starts to get the better of her.

my enemy’s enemy After her mother’s death, Regina finds a terrible surprise hidden among the witch’s belongings. Unfortunately, the only one able to cure her from the ailment is Emma…if she agrees. Strong language and mature themes. First stab at SwanQueen :)

ANGST

to remember her happy ending - “She doesn’t even remember her family! How am I going to explain this to her when she hates me!” She was falling apart now. The way the women in the other room had just looked at her, with such disdain. That wasn’t her wife. That was the Mayor, the Evil Queen maybe…but not her wife.

for endings are where we begin Regina Mills is your average working mom - she spends long hours at her bakery, loves her son Henry with all that she is, and can touch dead things and bring them back to life.Emma Swan is an orphan, an ex-convict, and a bail bondsperson residing in Massachusetts. She is also currently dead.This is the story of how they meet.

the loudest silence - New to Chicago Emma, a professional cellist, is shocked to find that a beautiful deaf woman is her new president of the board. As their friendship grows Emma begins to wonder, what does it look like when a world of sound and a world of silence meet somewhere in the middle? SwanQueen AU

broken 16 year Emma Swan is a preachers daughter on a tight leash, what happens when Regina Mills returns to town, dark, mysterious and dangerous? Will her father’s expectations take over or will Emma follow her heart? Is Regina legit or is Emma cute little pawn? Will Emma be able to love Regina for who she is or will her dark past ruin it ALL! SwanQueen G!P Some BDSM

bring her home Cora’s dead. Henry lives with the Charmings. Regina continues spiraling through grief and loss and hatred. Then Emma suddenly falls unconscious and Henry shows up at Regina’s door because he needs her help to bring Emma back. Reluctantly, Regina embarks on a wild swan chase through Emma’s mind, a whirlwind of ‘roads‐less‐traveled’ and ‘what‐ifs’ and ‘might‐have‐beens’, in order to bring her home.

if the blazer fits Emma decides to dress up like Regina for a Halloween party at The Rabbit Hole, a seemingly innocent decision that surprisingly leads to a relationship. The romance is openly feared by some and secretly despised by an unlikely source, who plots to end it.

a fine line Upon Regina’s banishment, the small town of Storybrooke becomes protected once again by an enchantment that prevents anyone from leaving or entering Storybrooke. Emma and Regina find themselves on the edge of the town, wishing for a way to the other side.

a pale imitation Regina is furious with Emma after she brings back Marian, but since she can’t take it out on her, Regina creates a mindless clone of Emma to hit instead. The clone doesn’t stay mindless for long though, developing an obsession with Regina. Written for summer 2014 Swan Queen Big Bang. (TW for sexual assault/rape and graphic depictions of violence)

FLUFF

one fine mess - Regina’s gut twisted with an agonizing pull and, for just a moment, she thought she might need to take up the same position as the woman crouched before her. “You’re pregnant?” she whispered grimly. Emma’s only response was to turn and retch into the toilet again. — Swan Queen, magic!pregnancy

coffee at midnight - (so good) Slow burn AU that starts with two women from different parts of the USA meeting on Twitter. Emma is an insomniac loner who is a Personal Trainer. Regina is a writer with a sleepless baby. Their lack of sleep and love for coffee soon brings them together and after that they find it hard to part. This is a fic where coffee is taking to mythical levels, despite it’s bad effect on people with insomnia and people with babies - showing that sometimes what you need and want isn’t always the thing that is wholesome and harmless. But also that denying yourself it will only lead to misery, something which Regina has to apply to other parts of her life.

all the single ladies With the library in desperate need of renovation, Storybrooke prepares for a fundraising dinner and bachelorette auction. What mischief and romance can be found as a result? SwanQueen with some RedBeauty Rating has been raised to M - now including adult content.


TEACHER+STUDENT / EMPLOYEE+BOSS

teacher’s pet - see above (classics)

take me home tonight - see above (classics)

step into my office, baby  - This is what you get for doing the nice thing, Emma thinks. You do that whole Pay It Forward bullshit - you buy a lady some coffee and you pretend like it isn’t totally motivated by how she looks in a pencil skirt - and she goes and insults your business card and turns out to be your company’s new Executive Director. Real fucking cute.From now on, she is drinking tea.or, the one where they’re in an office.

teaching miss mills  - Swan Queen Teacher AU: Emma is a gym teacher, who moves to Storybrooke Academy after becoming disenchanted with her job back in Boston. Regina Mills is the Head of English who Emma somehow seems to keep having run-ins with, despite the best of intentions. Along the way, Emma adjusts to small-town life, gets her teaching mojo back and grows closer to Regina. NOW COMPLETE

troubled teachers - COMPLETE! SwanQueen AU. Geography teacher Emma Swan starts a new life far from her troubled past and meets history teacher Regina Mills. But all is not as it seems when it comes to the composed, intelligent, and beautiful brunette. Family struggles and difficult relationships lead to a friendship and soon something more blossoms. Rated M for Ch 7, 18, 22, 24, 28, 29, 31, 35 and 38

not a virgin anymore When college student Emma Swan wakes up one morning with no memory of what happened the night before she’s very surprised she finds herself in professor Mills’s bed. 

is that so, miss swan? - College student, Emma Swan, is confronted by her favorite professor and secret heart-throb, Dr. Regina Mills. What happens when Emma is forced to reveal her secrets? We shall see. AU. Slightly OOC at times. No magic. SwanQueen. Rated M for serious language and eventual sexy times between our two favorite ladies.

butterfly effect - in her final year of college, Emma finds she has more to account for than the extra credits she needs in order to graduate. Only… she doesn’t expect it to come in the form of her newest instructor, Professor Regina Mills. Complete. AU Swan Queen

a sophisticated seduction Emma’s a college student, working as an intern at the Dazzle Magazine for a powerful woman she has never had the good fortune of meeting. But everything in her life is about to change when they finally meet. Especially when one falls so deeply in love with the other and the insecurities from a broken marriage comes to light. (Not Based on The Devil Wears Prada)

some other faves

down east decisions - Massachusetts State Police Capt. Emma Swan leaves her red-hot career to become the police chief of sleepy Storybrooke, Maine. She’s hoping for a less-complicated, less-dangerous life, a desire that is dashed on both counts. AU. No magic. Crime drama and romance. Swan Queen is endgame.

that drunken night - Emma’s wasted and accidentally calls Regina instead of her mom. And Regina isn’t as loathe to talk to the blonde as she usually pretends. Did things change between them so radically while they were in Neverland? (No copyright infringement intended.)

chasing henry - SQ. Tired of the tricks and lies of both of his mothers, Henry follows the dwarves, Red and Granny when they use Tiny’s magic beans to return themselves to their old land. Emma and Regina both chase after him, and they reluctantly travel together through the Enchanted Forest in order to find him and bring him back home safely.

so does this make us both the other woman? - Set after 3b in a peaceful Storybrooke where Regina is with Robin and Emma’s fallen into a relationship with Hook. Shame about all that subtext that’s rapidly threatening to become text.

How To: Develop Your Characters

I think we’ve all been in the situation where we want to write about a specific character but have no idea how to approach it. For some reason, despite them being your own character, you have no idea how they would act or what they would say in a certain situation. Sometimes, if you even write about your character(s) at all, when you read it back they seem fake or 2-Dimensional. Unrealistic, if you’d prefer.

In this post, I am going to give you some exercises to get past hollow characters and help develop your writing. 

1) Empty Their Pockets

Pretty simple. Think of what your characters would have in their pockets on a day-to-day basis. It doesn’t have to be anything super extraordinary, of course. Just start writing some everyday items down and think about whether your character would have these items in their pockets. 

Let’s take a look at one I did for my characters earlier. (sorry that just sounded like something from Blue Peter)

For example:

Character A’s Pockets Contained:

pack of gum, empty pack of cigarettes, library card, NOKIA brick phone

So, here a few things you can tell about Character A simply through the items in their pockets. They visit the library often, meaning that they probably have a high interest in reading (this also could be a sign of intelligence). Judging by the fact Character A has both a pack of gum and cigarettes this could indicate a potential smoking habit, chewing gum is a known way for helping people quit smoking. The pack of cigarettes could show that they are not very good at restricting themselves and could in fact be addicted and finding it hard to cope with smoking. Finally, the NOKIA brick phone shows how they may want to feel connected to people or want to allow their friends/family members/whoever to be able to contact them but have no desire to get the latest model of phone or perhaps believe that having such a device would distract them unnecessarily. 

When doing this exercise, think about key objects which portray certain details about your character! Try not to overthink it too much, write whatever comes to mind and put it down on the page! After writing down a couple objects, go back through them and feel free to edit out items you think are unnecessary or add items which you think would suit the character. 

2) Go Through Their Daily Routine

Again, another easily explained exercise. Go through a regular day in your character’s life, try and do this exercise as if it was happening before whatever events occur in your story or novel. This way it makes it easier to understand your character before they met a secondary character in the novel or before whatever events happened in your writing which may affect their routine. You don’t need to include every single detail in your description, just brief notes or key events which occur during their day would be fine. You can make it as short or as long as you wish, maybe don’t just do it for one day in your character’s week perhaps do it for multiple days. 

Does their routine change during the week? What time do they wake up? What time do they go to sleep? Are they punctual with going to work? Do they do any other activities outside their day-job? These are the kind of things you may want to ask yourself when writing it. 

3) Give Them Fears/Phobias

Everyone fears something: whether it be a phobia of spiders or oblivion, everyone has a fear. Giving your character a phobia makes them seem more realistic, it allows your reader to easily relate to your character.

However, just having a phobia for the sake of it doesn’t help develop your character at all. If you give them a terrible phobia of snakes and they come across a snake and suddenly within moments are able to get over their fear just like that, it’s not a phobia. It’s more of a mild inconvenience than anything else. The reader needs to feel convinced by their fears, they would feel more dissatisfied with your writing if they felt the character could dismiss anything and everything than knowing them being confronted by their fears could be a possible problem. Besides, it would give them no reason to motivate or encourage the character if they knew it was impossible for them to be defeated by anything. Still, this does not mean that your character has to be destroyed by their fear. There is a very big difference between simply dismissing your character’s fear and perhaps overcoming it in the future.

An easy way to write your character possibly overcoming their fear in the future is that when they first encounter that fear, add an element of chance or fate into it. For example, if a character were to move to get away from the creature which may be coming towards them; in the process of getting up, they could slip which could cause their legs to lash out towards the creature. The sudden movement may just be enough to scare the creature away, this way it does not appear to the reader as ridiculous or uncharacteristic courage but instead accidental bravery. This sudden revelation that the character’s horrible fear may not be as all powerful as they first thought could be the first step for them to slowly overcome that fear.

Don’t believe me? Let’s think about this for a moment. Imagine your character, let’s call them the Protagonist™, is stuck in a terrible situation. It doesn’t matter what the situation is but let’s say it’s something which involves them being trapped in a room with a snake. I’m going to give you two examples, both involving the same situation.

Example #1:

Protagonist watched with wide eyes as the snake slowly slithered towards them. The snake paused for a moment, it hissed lowly as it waited for Protagonist to move, waiting for the right moment to strike.  Not hesitating for a single moment, they suddenly realised how dire the situation was and jumped to their feet. Their heart pumping wildly as their body was filled with adrenaline, they were terrified yet they had to do something. Protagonist grabbed the nearest thing to them and stepped towards the snake.

“Get away!” They threatened, “Get away!”

Example #2:

Protagonist watched with wide eyes as the snake slowly slithered towards them. The snake paused for a moment, it hissed lowly as it waited for Protagonist to move, waiting for the right moment to strike. The blood in Protagonist’s veins ran cold as the snake grew closer and closer, Protagonist couldn’t move. They begged and screamed on the inside to move away, to get away as far as possible. They had lost all control of their movement, their fear had consumed them. They were frozen to the spot and could only watch as the snake widened it’s jaw, ready to bite down on it’s prey. It widened it’s jaw once, twice - suddenly, Protagonist gained back their instincts. Fleeing seemed like the only realistic option and seconds before the snake could chomp down on their ankle, Protagonist stumbled to their feet. They stumbled backwards into a puddle of water which had pooled behind them and their ankle rolled as they slipped, their legs accidentally lashing out towards the predator. The snake recoiled backwards in shock before deciding that the risk wasn’t worth it: it quickly retreated back to it’s nest, disappearing from Protagonist’s view.

Now, hopefully you see what I mean. I think we can all agree that the second example is a lot better than the first one. 

4) Create Their Flaws/Bad Habits

No one is perfect, this includes your characters. 

If you’re finding it challenging to think of any flaws, try to think of some bad habits. It doesn’t have to be anything so terribly bad that’s it’s illegal. Think simple when it comes to this exercise. It can range from anything between chewing their nails to swearing. 

It might help to try and develop these bad habits into possible flaws or weaknesses. If your character keeps biting their nails that might be a sign of nervousness or anxiety. So, creating bad habits might be a good way to show a certain trait your character may possess. 

Flaws are important as well. Let’s be realistic, if no character had any flaws then every single book we read would be filled with a bunch of characters which are exactly the same. Besides, what’s a hero without it’s villain? 

So, to give you a few ideas, let’s go back to superheroes. Maybe a hero is so set on doing the right thing that they lose sight of what they want? Perhaps it gets to a certain point where they can’t handle that hollow feeling inside of them that they grow arrogant, selfish or even stubborn? There’s a story for you right there. 

Not only that, by giving your characters flaws it is possible that you could work that into your story somehow. This way, not only will you get to show off your amazing character development, but it could also be an exciting point in your storyline.

Write down some ideas, think of flawed personality traits and just write them down! Try to write down at least five straight off the bat, for each one you don’t like you should think about why it doesn’t suit your character. You’re bound to find one flaw you’re happy with!

5) Write Some Scenarios

Now that you’ve developed your characters, go ahead and write them in your story! If you think you still need a bit of practice, try writing something about them being in a certain scenario. It could be anything from ordering their favourite coffee to being trapped in a prison: just write it! Try not to think about it too much, just do whatever feels write (I unintentionally made that pun but i’m not deleting it). 

It doesn’t have to be long either, just a couple paragraphs would be fine. Try to focus on body movements and interior thoughts, it would be ideal if your character was on their own in the situation: that way you can get to know the character on their own a lot better. No other characters means no distractions. It’s just you, the wonderful author, and your character - there is an endless amount of possibilities for you! 


Have faith in yourself too! Nobody knows your brilliantly developed characters better than you do, so here’s your chance to show them off! If you’d like a second opinion, write something about them and give it to a friend/parent/random stranger etc. to read! If they don’t want to, make them read it anyway! 

I hope this helps you all in developing your characters! 

Happy writing!

- jess

quotes from the music department

*Repeatedly sings part of the music in scat*

“Ben swore to Jesus that if he didn’t help me at the concert he’d do thirty push-ups in front of the entire band, and I’m just as excited for this as you guys are.”

“If it were easy, football players would be doing this”

“We were 4.75 points off of the next band, and I’ll make certain this number will haunt you until next season.”

“Tomorrow’s gonna be a rough week.”

“I’ll just get a golf cart to follow the band in the parade. Maybe one day I’ll play a halftime show in a golf cart, all by myself.”

“No, Danny, you’re not starting a group chat for jazz.”

“Someone made me a 22&½-inch stick to measure steps. Don’t make me use it.”

“Trumpets, raise your right hand, and move it over to the person next to you. You’ll be fingering the notes on their trumpet.” *leans over to woodwinds* “this is gonna be really funny”

“We don’t have Thursday night rehearsal this week, so live the lives you have outside of band. So basically, catch up on homework.”

“Here it is– wait no, that’s 32 pages, that’s not right.”

“Before we step off on Saturday, you need to focus and say the following prayer”

“All the freshmen are on break, none of them are here!” *section leader raises hand* “Adeline’s here” “She’s the only one ADELINE WHY DONT YOU TAKE BREAKS IN THE STANDS”

“I hope this is loud enough, because this is as loud as its gonna get” *glares at the saxophone that forgot the speaker* “He forgot the speaker, my own flesh and blood.”

“As usual, the bassist knows the articulation and rhythms to the saxophone parts better than the saxophones do.”

*beatboxes to metronome*

“I want you to go home, do homework, practice, do more homework, have a milkshake, and practice some more.”

“If you want to annoy the heck out of a musician, play a cadence but leave out the last chord and wait like 20 minutes”

“this passage is called ‘Glendy Burk.’ I went to high school with her, actually.”

“you aren’t feeling well? Drugs?”

“while I was in the middle of complimenting you, you made a mistake”

“that saxophone line was jazzy as hell”

“you just have to play angrier”

“what’s the point if they’re all accented?”

“you squeaked in tune”

“can you take that d?”

“you can play my final pitch”

“imagine brass knuckles, but on a tambourine”

“I had to blow on my tongue”

“Bethany, you’re my number one!”

“the entire band is pianissimo, so play really loud. mezzo piano.”

“go through the head”

“BAD tambourine!!!”

“112 is the American tempo”

“the audience started clapping during the caesura. I didn’t know whether to continue on or leave the stage.”

“Matthew, while you were gone, Ed and I determined that you’re a freeloader”

“you came in early” “I don’t remember”

“did you just compare terrible bass parts to a terrorist attack?”

“Christ, Elizabeth, you’re such a violinist”

“All of our violas are at another rehearsal today, so we’ll begin today’s rehearsal with a prayer as that is the only thing that can save us.”

“We don’t have a spare bass bow to use while Ed’s is being rehaired, so you two are just gonna have to share. Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“Ah, yes, but what baroque style are we talkin’ here”

“It was at that point she handed the first chair violin a viola part. He proceeded to hand it back to her.”

“I went home and cradled that music. I never get original bass parts.”

“She turned the page in her score and forgot to continue conducting. Honestly, I would’ve been less surprised had she thrown her baton into the cello section”

“There are two basses in pit this year, so we’re an actual section, so he can’t just shove us in the corner this year HIGH FIVE”

“Does she really know how to buy a bow? She should make it a field trip so you get the right one.” *swings hands in air super wide* “it has to AGREE and BLEND with the instrument DO YOU SEE”

“When the orchestra director doesn’t know what to do she just asks the second chair. If he’s gone, she waits until a day he attends rehearsal to ask him.”

“Don’t be afraid to play out. Except during rests. Then you should be very afraid.”

“is it ok if I start to cry a little right now?”

“I had anaemia as a kid, and my schoolteacher’s name sounded like ‘anaemia’, so naturally, I hated her”

“she took the pen out of my hand and said, ‘no, Richard, use pencil.’ I was so mad”

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence that there are fewer bassists today and higher rates of suicide, gang violence, school shootings…”

“channel your inner Whitney Houston”

“play quietly, like you’re about to wake a baby. except you’re the baby, because you didn’t practice”

“I have another metronome app now. I collect them.”

“if someone calls my bass a cello one more time I’m gonna lose it”

“at the gig, a drunk guy came up to me, pointed to my harp, and called it a sideways piano”

“I want the space between these notes to be so big you can fit a little drawing of a house, a sun, a tree, and little dog in there.”

“90º angle notes”

“I want the sixteenth notes so sharp they could kill a man”

“turn the soundbox on”

“do you have a fancy phone? the answer is yes, yes you do.”

“I listened to the narration a few times before realising it was in German”

“I’ve got, like, four copies of that piece. the conductor keeps forgetting that I already have it and makes me a new copy.”

“soon I’ll have AIDS. Hearing aids, I mean. I’m old, is what I’m saying”

“more birdlike, turn on roundabout faster”

“kissing from the left is different from kissing from the right. not that I would know. asking for a friend.”

a sterek fic inspired by this stupid thing because how could I not

It’s a common saying among Stiles’ friends that he doesn’t have a lot of dignity. To be perfectly honest, Stiles agrees with them (as much as he argues against the point whenever they bring it up).

But this is probably a new low.

Well, not new-new, because this is into the fourth week of the habit and if he was a better person, he’d have stopped by now. He’s not a better person in this instance, but he’s made peace with it.

‘It’ being watching his stubbled neighbour jog past his place every morning in sweatpants and obviously non-supportive underwear. There’s a lot of movement down there. A lot.

“I mean, with that much jiggle, he’s gotta know, right?” Stiles asks his window pane, behind which he’s fake writing on his laptop.

They’re not quite neighbours, there’s about half a block between them for which Stiles’ sanity is thankful. Otherwise who knows what ludicrous amateur spying would have occurred.

As it is, he is very thankful he accidentally set his alarm for five am two (it was four) mornings in a row, because now he knows that this is a morning ritual for his neighbour.

Today hot neighbour is wearing the cut off, grey sweats. They’re a personal favourite of Stiles’ (better than the dark blue ones, which make it harder to see) because it means not only can he get a clear view of his neighbour’s dick as it swings forward against the fabric, but also his sweaty, perfectly muscled calves.

Stiles sighs out and bangs his head once against the window pane, a small punishment that is also part of the routine.

What is not part of the routine, is hot neighbour looking into Stiles’ window, and seeing Stiles’ face smooshed against the glass, after which he trips, possibly in disgust, or just simple distraction.

Stiles’ first reaction is to panic. He pushes his chair back from the desk and slams his laptop closed.

His second reaction is that he should call someone to come help.

His third reaction is to realise that, hold on, he can go and help.

Stiles rushes out his front door and into the chilly morning air.

Keep reading

Six Years and Seven Days

This is pretending that Bellamy could hear Clarke talking all those years, she just can’t hear him responding, and that the ship at the end is them coming back to Earth. 

So…pain. 


Day Three

“Bellamy…are you up there? Are you alive? Is anyone alive?”

Static.

“I only woke up yesterday. At least, I think it was yesterday. I barely made it into the bunker in time, but I made it. And the computer says it’s been three days since the radiation hit, and I was so hungry I thought I might die. Please tell me you didn’t die.”

Silence.

“Bellamy, my mom was right. In a way. My face is disgusting, covered in boils. You’d be laughing at me…probably. Because she was right but so were you. I’m not dead Bellamy. I hope you aren’t either.”

His fingers slammed on the respond button, pushing it down to the point of it feeling like it would crack from the pressure.

“I’m not dead, Clarke. I’m not dead.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

What about aliens that have limited telepathy when holding physical contact and they touch a human with intrusive thoughts and a Millennial way of dealing with it? So they heard "what if The ship just crashed into that sun?" "Glathor is having a kid soon I'm not going to do that Sharon." and instantly tries to send the human to medial "you are under mind control that wishes to kill the whole ship please let us help! WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT YOUR BRAIN JUST DOES THAT!?"

As far as humans went, Casey was for all intents and purposes normal. They were better with numbers and physics than most – humans and Frilaks alike – but still well within the range of normality. They were a kind person; compassionate in the same way most humans xe had met were. All in all, there was nothing that would have warned Garnork about the entities controlling them.

Out of respect for privacy, Frilaks tended to avoid physically touching other species, but most humans didn’t seem to mind. As a matter of fact, a lot of them sought out physical contact in the form of ‘hugs’ or ‘high fives’ or other strange concepts. Casey had never been opposed to physical contact, so when xe saw them again after a period of absence, xe engaged in the customary ‘hug’.

Xe had expected to pick up the normal ‘this is surprisingly nice,’ or ‘naw xe likes me,’ or even a ‘wonder what’s for dinner’ as the two of them hugged, though xe ended up picking up something far more important.

‘What if the ship just crashed into that sun?’

‘Galathor is having a kid soon, I’m not going to do that Sharon.’

Instantly, Garnork pulled away from the hug, but made sure they were still touching. “Casey, you need to go to the medical bay.” Xe said, xir colours betraying xir worry. Casey knew enough Frilaks to know how to interpret xir hide turning a light teal colour. At least that was what their thoughts told xem. There were a lot of socially inappropriate words too, though in xir experience, these ‘swears’ weren’t considered as inappropriate as some humans liked to pretend.

It took a bit too long before Garnork remembered that Casey didn’t have the abilities of a Frilak, and therefore had no idea what was going on.

“You are under mind control that wishes to kill the whole ship please let us help! WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT YOUR BRAIN JUST DOES THAT!?” xe asked, sounding and looking more than just a bit frantic. This wasn’t good, this really, really was not good.

Maybe they didn’t know quite what was going on. Humans did have very little experience with actual mind control. However, before xe could press on, Casey stepped out of xir reach and ran a hand through their hair.

“Okay, so this is going to be a bit difficult to explain, but I’ll do my best. So what I’m guessing you heard or saw or however it is you do your mindreading thingy,” they began, holding up a hand when Garnork attempted to say something. “Let me finish, please. They’re called intrusive thoughts. Annoying? Yeah. Dangerous? Not really. Normal? Yes. Completely. Pretty much every single human gets them from time to time. It can be like it was just now, or suddenly thinking about swerving into a different lane on the motorway, or stabbing a friend,” they said, clearly realising they had to change their tactic as xe turned a deep magenta colour of fright.

“But we don’t act on them! They’re intrusive, so you can’t really stop them, but you can deal with them when you get them.”

“But you called them Sharon. Is that not a name your species use on some individuals?”

“Well, yeah, but I’m a millennial. Fatalistic humour and unconventional coping mechanisms are sort of my thing,” they shrugged, but continued their elaboration when they realised Garnork didn’t understand. “It’s easier to not do it when it sounds stupid, and it’s really annoying. So I just pretend it’s being said by some posh soccer mum.”

It took a while before xe remembered another human crewmember’s explanation of the phenomenon and expression of ‘soccer mums’ and that they weren’t the creators of a sport as the title suggested.

“And this helps you not crash the ship into a sun?” xe asked, getting a nod and a smile in return.

“Yup. But like I said, it’s nothing to worry about. Oh, but I see Galathor, I’ve got to ask xem how xe’s doing. I’ll catch you later, alright?”

And with that, Casey left xem, more confused than usual, though it really wasn’t unusual that humans confused anyone.

{PART 19} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Not knowing whether to stay and fight, or run and protect you; Jungkook gets thrown into a world of fear and panic. Meanwhile, Yoongi and Serrena battle for victory in the silent game of war they play;

“How dreadful…to be caught up in a game and have no idea of the rules.”

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time) 

{Part 1} // {Part 18} {Part 19} {Part 20}

Keep reading

little monster | (m)

Originally posted by gotjimin

pairing: park jimin x reader | feat. kim namjoon
genre/warnings: smut, voyeurism sort-of, auralism? masturbation, teasing, switch themes
words: 8,844
summary: you’ve been good friends with your roommate Jimin for a while, occasionally flirting with each other, especially when you’ve had a drink, but nothing has ever happened between the two of you…until that is, he secretly listens to you and Namjoon have sex one day…He thinks you don’t know, but he’s wrong…
note. based on a request.

Keep reading

Mock up the courage

Bucky x reader

Notes: fluff, just pure fluff. 

A/N: Bucky is tired and needy and just wants to cuddle. (who. fuckin’. wouldn’t?!)

Originally posted by sebastianobrien

If there was ever something more adorable than Bucky being tired or in any way not feeling well, you’d never seen it. Now, the serum made sure he was never not feeling well, but it didn’t help exhaustion after a week long mission with only 2 hours of sleep a day.

This is why he came stumbling into your floor, somehow overriding every security protocol with his left over spy-skills, calling out your name at two in the morning.

Actually, it was more like a drawn out whine.

Keep reading

Paper Stars

Summary: Dan starts to get love notes in his locker in the form of origami stars, so he gets the help of his best friend, Phil, to figure out who it is.
Word Count: 2,398
Warnings: cussing
A/N: Thanks to @insanityplaysfics as always for giving me ideas. I’m a fucking sap recently because my boyfriend proposed to me and I just wanna write a crapton of fluff and puke rainbows everywhere. This is short and sweet, which is very rare for me! I hope you like it anyways!
Read it on AO3

-

The day Dan opened his locker to a strange slip of paper folded into an origami star was one of the strangest moments of his life.

“What,” Dan said simply, giving the offending paper a strange look. He bent down and retrieved it, staring at it long and hard. It was thin, made with a flowery paper, and he could just make out words written in very small print on it. “What,” Dan said again.

With a small amount of struggle, Dan managed to unwrap the star, revealing the writing inside. The script was sloppy to the point where Dan thinks it was written with the wrong hand. Dan said “what” again and the word didn’t even sound like it was real anymore. It took him a few minutes to read what it said due to the scribble, but he eventually managed.

‘i used to stare out the window because i thought the scenery was beautiful. Then i saw you and suddenly the world didnt seem nearly as captivating as before.

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anonymous asked:

How about a semi angsty fight with the rfa+V but they make up because HAPPY ENDINGS ARE NICE

I’m a slut for angst don’t give me this power 

Yoosung: 

✮ you had accidentally knocked the power cord to his computer while you were cleaning and he was playing LOLOL 
✮ he screamed 
✮ he was ranting and raving about how he was in the middle of an important raid and he was so close to levelling up 
✮ and you’re kinda standing there with a laundry basket and a pile of clothes almost over your head 
✮ and you don’t know what to do 
✮ you kind of want to cry 
✮ you kind of want to throw the laundry at his head 
✮ until 
✮ “rika never did things like this!!”
✮ oh 
✮ of course
✮ it somehow always got back to this point. comparing you with rika 
✮ sometimes he didn’t mean it or even realise he’d done it. but this was different 
✮ you remain eerily calm, putting the laundry down before turning to glare at yoosung 
✮ a wave of realisation hits him and he’s just full of guilt 
✮ you very calmly tell him you’re going to spend the night with jaehee, and ask him not to contact you 
✮ he begins crying and pleading with you to stop and stay 
✮ he’s so sorry and he’s just hating himself while you pack an overnight bag
✮ he’s practically on his knees and following you, begging you to stay 
✮ you kind of pause when you see the raw sorrow in his face 
✮ you sigh and stop for a moment 
✮ you’re hurt but you know that you have to talk it out with yoosung for it to get better 
✮ you both talk for a few hours, and he completely understands your viewpoint and he apologises 18923475829 times 
✮ he stays off of LOLOL for a few weeks, and even after that he tries not to get too obsessed– because that’s how the whole problem started 
✮ he just doesn’t want to lose you 

Jaehee: 

✎ you just wanted her to stop working so much 
✎ she was working overtime at the cafe 
✎ so much that she practically lived there 
✎ she was there after-hours and before-hours 
✎ sometimes she slept there and wouldn’t come home 
✎ so you book a holiday for her in secret, making plans behind her back for the cafe so it can function without her
✎ you tell all the employees and the deliverers who are close with the shop 
✎ but when you sit jaehee down and announce your plan 
✎ she gets so cold 
✎ she wants none of it 
✎ she’s not overworking herself dammit 
✎ she’s just doing what needs to be done 
✎ you try telling her that she doesn’t need to coddle the cafe, that you and the other emplyees were fully capable of running it 
✎ but she’s so worked up 
✎ and she says that you can’t 
✎ you’re clearly offended and you’re upset that your hard work planning this holiday for her is being pushed aside 
✎ somehow, you get her to take the holiday and see how it pans out 
✎ she’s calling you constantly 
✎ eventually you start ignoring her calls and texts 
✎ she gets so freaked out that the cafe is literally crumbling with you in charge so she rushes home 
✎ and you’re so mad when she rushes into the cafe, only to stop when she sees everything is going as usual 
✎ “b-but you weren’t answering my calls! I thought something happened!” 
✎ “jaehee i was ignoring you because you have no trust in me and I was busy making sure you could enjoy your holiday!” you were screaming 
✎ she felt so bad 
✎ she took her vacation and came back a lot better 
✎ you two made up, and she explained that her problem came from being jumin’s assistant for so long (if she didn’t do her job everything fucked up bc jumin is horrible at his job lmao) 
✎ she was a lot more calm after that and took breaks when she needed to (even took some time off on every second weekend- when you took care of the cafe) 

Zen: 

✿ he was working 
✿ of course 
✿ his job was the root of most of your arguments as a couple 
✿ but this time he had gone out for drinks with the cast 
✿ while you were standing outside of a restaurant waiting for him- you were going to have a date since filming was wrapping up that day (which is why the cast was having drinks in the first place) 
✿ you had faith in him, and stayed there until the restaurant closed 
✿ which was very, very late in the evening, seeing as it was part bar 
✿ as you were walking home, upset 
✿ zen came stumbling out of the bar with his castmates 
✿ he doesn’t notice you at first 
✿ until one of his acting buddies points at you, not recognising you, and laughs about how you’re soaked in rain and look like you’ve had that worst day of your life 
✿ you hear him 
✿ zen chuckles slightly before looking closer and realising who it is 
✿ swears up a storm as he pushes away everyone- muttering out something like ‘ssss my girlfirendddd’ 
✿ he tries to grab you because you’re storming away 
✿ he’s trying to coo and ask you why you were out so late because he’s drunk and doesn’t remember 
✿ you slap his hands away before screaming at him 
✿ “I was waiting for you! Our date for celebrating the end of filming?! Guess you had other plans, huh?!” 
✿ he’s so shocked like 
✿ it looks like he’s been smacked in the face 
✿ he follows you all the way home, apologising profusely 
✿ you make him sleep on the couch and lock yourself in the bedroom 
✿ when he wakes up the next morning he remembers, even through his wicked hangover 
✿ he cooks an amazing breakfast and waits for you to come out 
✿ when you do he hands you flowers with a card about how sorry he is
✿ he swears that he’ll make it up to you- and never let it happen ever again 

Jumin: 

₩ he was planning on properly introducing you to his father 
₩ but he was getting so controlling 
₩ he literally dressed you and did your hair and practically gave you a lecture on how to act and what to say 
₩ you’re kind of pissed at him but try to understand that he’s just stressed about how his father will react 
₩ his father loves you, and you loosen up- begin to be yourself 
₩ his father leaves after blessing your relationship together 
₩ but jumin is fuming 
₩ ‘what were you doing?! I told you not to say this or that’ blah blah 
₩ you’re just so shocked 
₩ “jumin that’s not who I am!” 
₩ “that’s who you should be!” 
₩ silence. 
₩ jumin has never been afraid of anything 
₩ but he’s afraid of this silence and the tears that are slipping down your cheeks 
₩ he’s afraid of what he said. he’s afraid of himself 
₩ he stumbles over his words as he tries to apologise, saying that isn’t what he meant 
₩ you can’t hear him though, all you can hear is his previous words echoing through your head 
₩ you tell him you’re sleeping in the guest room that night- the only thing you said before locking him out 
₩ when you get up the next morning 
₩ you open the door and see jumin sitting on the ground agains the wall next to your door, elizabeth pulled to his chest 
₩ his eyes were puffy and his cheeks and nose red 
₩ he had a note next to him that he hadn’t finished 
₩ it read ‘I’m sorry’ over and over, tear stains smudging some of the letters 
₩ you sigh, and kneel down to wake him up 
₩ he explains that he thought his father wouldn’t accept you unless you were like the other women and he didn’t want his father to come between your relationship anymore than he already had with the Sarah bullshit 
₩ and you make up but he spends so long reassuring you that he loves you so much, just the way you are 

Seven/Saeyoung: 

✞ he was doing it again
✞ he was trying to push you away 
✞ someone had approached you while you were on the street, asking about a ‘707′ 
✞ when you told saeyoung he got so scared and reverted back to his old ways 
✞ trying to push you away so that you ‘wouldn’t get hurt’ 
✞ when you try to kiss his cheek he physically pushes you away (after acting hostile all day) 
✞ and you trip over his wires and fall- hitting your head on the ground 
✞ he’s shocked, you’re shocked 
✞ he reaches forward to try and help you but freezes when you flinch away 
✞ he feels like less than shit 
✞ he feels like death himself. the grim reaper- that’s him. 
✞ he watches helplessly as you stumble to your feet and rush off to the bedroom, locking yourself inside (even though Saeyoung had control over the locks) 
✞ he spends about an hour just leaning over his desk with his head in his hands, thinking over how terrible he had been 
✞ how you deserve so much better 
✞ he was unstable. he was dangerous. 
✞ you were the light. you were everything 
✞ after a while he unlocks the door and sends your robot-cat in with flowers and a note in his mouth 
✞ it’s a handwritten letter from saeyoung, telling you he was just scared 
✞ that he was so sorry. that he loved you more than he could ever understand and he didn’t know how to deal with that yet 
✞ you slowly walk out, seeing him sitting on the ground somewhere, surrounded by the mess that he’d made 
✞ he had thrown all the cushions and pillows on the couch. ripped up the first drafts of the note. he’d even knocked one of his monitors to the ground, shattering it.
✞ you sit with him and talk together 
✞ you make a plan for how you can both deal with these times better 
✞ he promises to spend his life making sure you’re as happy as you can be 

V/Jihyun:

☼ i’m so sorry but i don’t want to hurt this precious roll 

instant gratification (m)

Originally posted by pjmksj

fuccboii jk x cheerleader! reader ft sex in an instant photobooth

7k, smut

WARNING: this is just pure smut no plot whatsoever lmao and it’s filthy as hell read at ur own risk


11.57am [Jeon Jeongguk]: Quad. Now.

The brevity of his text should annoy you, but it only ignites a desire that burns insistently till it’s quenched. With your screen brightness turned down this low, it should be hard for anyone but you to decipher the words on your screen, but you still jump in surprise and guilt when your roommate, Sejong taps you on the shoulder.

“Hey, don’t forget practice is at 12.30pm today, don’t be late!! Coach already seemed near the end of her rope the last time and the team sure as hell doesn’t need her cracking down any harder. Got it?” Sejong might be your dearest roommate, but as captain of the cheer team she definitely takes her duties very seriously.

Swallowing back nervous laughter, you attempt to flash her an easy smile. “Yes, I promise I’ll be there on time!! It won’t happen anymore, I swear.”

You quickly stash away your phone in your bag and finish adjusting your knee socks before standing and bidding her a hasty goodbye.

“Wait, you’re leaving now? There’s still like half an hour before we start!” Sejong narrows her eyes at you just as your hand lands upon the door handle. Even facing away from her you can feel her scrutinising gaze on your back, and your urgency to leave the room increases.

“Uhh… yeah, you said my splits needed some work last time right? I think I’m gonna go in early and get some practice in.” To your own ears your excuse sounds flimsy and coupled with the slight tremor in your voice, you’re almost definitely sure that Sejong will call you out.

Keep reading

Here’s the thing.

I am a transgender man (see photo of my mug for context).

I love all trans people and I love non binary people. But lately some of my trans spaces (both on the web and irl) that are mainly non binary have started to feel a little hostile.

I want to make something perfectly clear before I continue - I love and respect non binary people, I think their genders are valid and I am in no way suggesting they are any less important that myself or any other binary trans person. I also need you to understand that this isn’t meant to be a post calling out non binary people at all, it is just me talking about my personal experiences in the hope that it can get people to be a little more considerate sometimes?

In university spaces, it seems that there is a growing population of non binary people that tends to dominate trans groups. Which is good in lots of ways, especially since it shows how this generation has become much more relaxed and aware that gender is a construct and fluidity is key. However, amongst people I know there is a lot of ‘ew gross men’, or 'ew gross trans men that are masculine’, while at the same time being predominantly DFAB populations.

Now trust me, I very much understand the dislike a lot of dfab trans people have of men. A lot of us are survivors and I think that does play a big part in how we feel about the gender overall. Not to mention it is not uncommon for men to be, for lack of a better word- wankers. However, I don’t think people consider trans men when we are talking about this.

Making a comment like 'ew men are so fucking gross’ to a room of trans people means that to a trans man you are saying one of two things - 1) you are gross, or 2) you aren’t gross because you’re not a Real Man, and you are excluded from this statement because you are and always will be, partly a woman. Even now I feel uncomfortable 'complaining’ about this. I have to remind myself that just as suggesting that a trans woman is somehow different to other women would be considered incredibly offensive, so is it for trans men.

I didn’t realise how much this stuff affected me until it did. Constantly being around people that talk about, how body hair on men is gross, masculinity is by default toxic, making jokes about my masculinity being toxic when I excitedly tell people that I’ve started going to the gym and its making me feel better about my body. No, it’s not funny. It’s MY dysphoria I’m trying to ease. I as a trans person want to feel supported and loved when I do things that have a chance of making me feel good about my body.

It hit me like a brick wall when I realised how much it had affected me. I was with my partner, and was trying to have sex, but I just broke down. I felt so incredibly disgusted with my body and myself. So much hair, so masculine. The noises I made, gross. The way I touched him, creepy. I couldn’t get out of my head the idea that later in life he would talk to people about how gross and unshaven I was, just like I had heard friends describe ex boyfriends so many times before.

I felt cheated because these were the changes I WANTED my body to make. But now they felt ruined. Spoiled.
It was after that realisation that I decided I had to get out. I stopped going to some of student socials and instead started attending a group for older trans people. It was so refreshing to meet other trans men for once (just because I rarely meet them at uni, and it was nice to talk to someone similar.) It was awesome to be around people who weren’t shitty about trans people being stealth (as I remember I once was.)

There are some important things to take away from all of this:

1) Telling trans boys and men that they are disgusting for wanting to be like men will only destroy self esteem and feed into the toxic environment that a lot of cis boys grow up in.

2) Non binary people are extremely valid and awesome, but also must accept they have a responsibility to cultivate a supportive and friendly atmosphere in spaces where they are dominant (I put this in here for university spaces especially)

3) Laughing at a trans man/woman for being excessively masc/fem presenting if you are a dfab nb person who mainly presents as fem or androgynous is facetious and not respecting that they may have to present that way to stay safe, (especially in the case of trans women that may be more 'obviously trans’) and that despite suffering prejudice in many ways, the one thing you are not realistically facing is street violence and such because you inevitably are not going to be clocked as trans. (which yes, does NOT make your transness invalid but we have to respect the different struggles people in our community face.)

4) Someone being stealth does not mean they are adhering to 'toxic gender roles’. It means they are either 1) trying to be safe or 2) surprise surprise they want to live their life as the gender they identify with. Trans people are not less legitimately trans because you think they are 'acting cis’.

5) Being a binary trans person does not give you privilege over nb people. Like seriously, trans women are literally the most likely to be murdered. Don’t be a dick. Erasure is a problem yes but it’s not the same. I read names out at the TDOR vigil and pretty much all of them were trans women of colour. Respect that. Help the community. This isn’t about scoring points over who has it the shittiest.

6) The idea that the only good kinda of trans men are 'soft sensitive kinda trans masc guys that don’t have surgeries and shave all their body hair’ is shitty and offensive (tho that kind of trans man is totally valid, that not what i mean). Its shitty because one you’re sexualising them either as more childlike or more feminine (both is rude, former is creepy), but its perpetuating the idea that trans men aren’t really men and the best ones are the ones that YOU think still kinda look suitably enough like women.

When Duty and Desire Meet Chapter 4

Art by @edendaphne , words by moi!

Summary: After their accidental kiss on Valentine’s day, both Marinette and Chat Noir have to deal with the emotional fallout of their actions.

Read on AO3
Read on tumblr

~

Valentine’s Day Part 2

“So, let me get this straight,” Alya said, leaning back against Marinette’s desk chair and steepling her fingers. Beside her, on a little table-cushion Marinette had made, Tikki slept soundly, having already heard the story a thousand times over. “You’re in love with Chat Noir.”

“You already knew that,” Marinette groaned from her chaise, hugging a cushion to her chest and leaning back like a Freudian patient. Lord knows she was about three sentences away from a therapy-inducing hissy fit regardless, so it was probably prudent of her to be lying down in such a way. She was preparing for her inevitable breakdown that’s all. It was the smart thing to do.

And she rarely did the smart thing nowadays it seemed, so she really needed this.

“You’ve been in love with Chat as Ladybug for like a bajillion years,” Alya continued, ignoring Marinette as she continued to rehash pointless details. Details which made Marinette want to bludgeon herself to death with her cushion.

It was most likely impossible to do such a thing but she was never one to back down from a challenge. Death by cushion- she’d find a way.

“Yes. We’ve already established that,” she replied through gritted teeth, said cushion slowly creeping up to cover her face.

“But last night you kissed him by accident,” Alya said.

“Uh-huh.”

“As Marinette.”

“That is correct sir,” Marinette wiggled a finger.

“And he gave you a rose and kissed you back.”

“Tru’ dat.”

It was indicative of Marinette’s deteriorating mental state that she’d said “Tru’ dat”. She’d never said “Tru’ dat” in her whole life.

“I see,” Alya nodded a few times. The fact her tone had remained neutral the whole time was doing nothing to help Marinette’s poor nerves, and so she swung her legs over the side of her chaise, sitting up to get a better view of Alya’s twinkling eyes. A sense of dread settled in Marinette’s stomach. Alya’s eye-twinkles were never a good thing, at least when they were directed towards her.

I see?! Is that all you have to say? Seriously?! I thought you’d be freaking out right now, I mean I’m freaking out but then I ALWAYS freak out. You not freaking out is making me freak out harder! Can you please freak out with me? Join me in the freak out zone already!” Marinette blabbed, waving her arms and promptly dropping the cushion to the ground.

Alya said nothing, instead choosing to raise an eyebrow at her and cross her legs. At least she’d stopped steepling her fingers, Marinette thought gruffly.

After a short pause, Alya finally spoke, but her voice wobbled and strained unnaturally, her lips thinned in a way that was entirely too suspicious. “Firstly, stop saying freak out, secondly I’m not freaking out because this is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She barely made it to the end of her sentence before she doubled over and descended into giggles.

It was in that moment that Marinette realised Alya’s peculiar behaviour had been due to her hiding her amusement, and she felt fully justified in yanking the cushion from its position on the floor and hurling it towards her supposed ‘best friend forever.’

Unfortunately, Alya dodged the fluffy projectile with ease.

“Come on, this is serious! I’m in hot water here!” Marinette cried, crossing her arms across her chest.

“When are you not though? Let’s be real,” the redhead shot back with a wry grin, twirling in the chair and kicking backwards to check her hair in the small vanity mirror on Marinette’s desk. The sight made Marinette relax a little. Alya only checked her hair with such scrutiny when she was seriously contemplating something.

Suddenly missing the comforting embrace of the cushion, Marinette flopped down once more. As her back hit the large pillows adorning her chaise, she let out a long sigh and all the fear, the panic, the fight, left her in one fell swoop. Only tiredness and uncertainty remained.

“How am I going to face him?” she whispered. Her head tilted towards her small, round window, to the afternoon sun beaming down in a total antithesis to her feelings. She wondered where Chat Noir was at that moment.

Did she cross his mind?

Over the years Marinette had asked herself that question more times than she could count. But it was different now. Now she wondered if Chat thought of her, of Marinette, not of Ladybug. Did he dwell on it- how they’d kissed? She had. She’d thought about it all night, until exhaustion had finally overcome her and she’d woken up late, cold, wanting something she could barely comprehend.

For years, she’d thought about what it would mean to kiss Chat Noir, Dark Cupid incident aside considering she couldn’t even remember it.

A small, involuntary whimper left her when she recalled the night before. The kiss had been an accident… at first. But the second she felt Chat’s lips press into hers was burned into her memory, playing over and over again. The moment he returned her kiss had ignited something dormant inside her and she felt raw, emotions exposed and unlocked, with nowhere to hide.

She considered her question again. How on earth could she face him as Ladybug, knowing what she did, knowing him the way he didn’t know he knew her (and god wasn’t that sentence confusing in and of itself)?

For God’s sake Marinette, it was a peck of a kiss at the most, pull yourself together!

“You’ll figure it out.”

Alya’s voice sounded lightyears away, so stuck was Marinette in her own musings. She jumped, a little sheepishly, and realised she hadn’t noticed Alya coming over to her until the spinning desk chair was pressed right by the chaise. The next moment, Alya’s hands were in her hair. Having thoroughly fixed her own short curls, she now concentrated on the silky strands of Marinette’s loose locks, braiding little plaits as if they were children at a sleepover.

Marinette let her. Two perfectly groomed heads were better than one.

“You think you can talk to him about it? As you I mean, not Ladybug,” Alya suggested, quickly clarifying her meaning whilst tugging the red ribbons loose from Marinette’s dark hair.

Snorting in response, Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Talk? To Chat? The very idea…

“Yeah sure, let me just tweet at him Ayla. Hashtag balcony make-outs,” she giggled, feeling a little better as her hair fell around her shoulders.

Foregoing the braids, Alya reached up and began tying something new into Marinette’s hair, tutting in disapproval. “Slide into the DM’s at least girl, I raised you better than that.”

They shared a laugh, settling into a comfortable silence as Alya worked on both sides of her hair. Marinette sat back and mulled over her options. Truth be told she didn’t have many. She couldn’t talk to Chat, after all it wasn’t likely he’d be back and she had no idea who he was in real life. The notion that she could talk to him as Ladybug, thus revealing herself, made her rapidly descend into a panic so sharp that she quickly pushed that thought to the side.

Really there was nothing else to do but call it what it was. A blip. A crazy alignment of stars which had given her a taste of everything she’d wanted for the past four years, a reminder that it was probably all she was going to get.

She tried not to let the disappointment settle in her bones, yet it was fruitless. Her chest ached as though a hole had been carved there.

Suffice to say it was a familiar ache where Chat was concerned, but it was bigger now.

“There. Done,” Alya pulled back, pleased with her work, and Marinette stood. Stepping over to the vanity mirror, she leaned down to check her reflection. “Matching colours for you and the bae,” she teased, eyebrows wiggling from underneath her rounded glasses.

Marinette threw the cushion at her again, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction as it smacked her right in the face.

At the very least, she had the Gaming Club that night, that would provide a very welcome distraction.

***

Adrien was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Which was ironic, considering he’d joined the Gaming Club to avoid that exact thing from happening.

“I can’t do this, I’m going to cancel,” he whimpered, hiding out in the bathroom a floor above their usual meeting place like the coward he was.

“So cancel,” Plagg shrugged, busy amusing himself with unfurling a roll of toilet paper- as per his usual hobby.

“I can’t cancel!” Adrien replied, horror struck as he gazed at himself in the mirror. His fingers gripped the sides of the sink so hard that his knuckles turned white. “Are you insane?!”

“So don’t cancel,” Plagg’s disinterested monotone was really starting to grate on him. “Honestly kiddo what do you want me to say and will it get me food faster?”

The resounding groan from Adrien’s throat was so despairing in nature that he was afraid he’s start rumours of a ghost haunting the building. He leaned on his elbows, burying his face into his hands.

Stupid. He’d been so, so, stupid. And reckless! Totally reckless. What had he been thinking?!

It was worth it though, a small, unchecked part of him thought. Adrien squashed it flat in an instant. After all there was no time to consider the fluttering in his chest, the pleasant swoop of his stomach. Now was the time to face the consequences of his actions. His incredibly foolish, totally moronic actions.

Because, although a part of him ignited, burned in the best possible way, at the memory of Marinette’s lips against his own, another part felt thoroughly ashamed. It felt like he was tricking her in some way. Granted that had never been his intention. His plan had been simple. Leave the rose on her balcony for her to discover. She’d never know it was him and be happy at the gift from a secret admirer. Obviously, things hadn’t worked out the way he planned, though he should have anticipated that.

When had things ever gone the way he planned?

He needed to apologise to her, as Chat, and he was going to do so that night in fact. But before that Adrien needed to pretend, he needed to lie, to Marinette. To the girl he loved. He needed to act like he hadn’t heard her soft sigh, felt the warmth of her skin and the taste of her cherry-blossom lips. He had to fake it, act like it had never happened.

He had to pretend he didn’t desperately want it to happen again.

The idea of being so fake made him ill, and so he placed his hands under the cold water tap to splash his face, allowing the iciness of the water to penetrate his senses and offer him some much-needed clarity.

It didn’t really work but it was the best he could do.

When he entered the Gaming Club, Plagg tucked securely inside his jacket pocket, he was relieved to see Marinette talking to other people. He could barely look at her, the meagre glimpse he’d gotten from across the room had sent his heart cartwheeling down the corridor and somewhere into the next arrondissement.

Not wanting to look suspicious, and fully admitting that he was stalling for time, Adrien wandered over to the desk where Nino was hooking up an old Nintendo console for one of their signature Mario Kart nights.

Mario Kart…Marinette…partners… sitting close together… oh no.

“Hey bro!” Nino chirped, offering Adrien a fist to bump, clearly not noticing how the blood had completely drained from his friend’s face. “Everything ok?”

“H-hey! Everything’s good!” The first lie of the evening. How could Adrien have forgotten it was a Mario Kart night? More importantly, how was he going to survive the evening now? Sitting next to Marinette, shoulders pressed together, watching her tongue poke out in concentration like it normally did? How could he concentrate on anything knowing how close he’d been to said tongue the night before?

Grow up Adrien! You aren’t some horny teenager and Marinette isn’t a prize to be objectified. Show her some respect already!

If Nino had thought Adrien’s reaction was strange, he didn’t show it. Together they settled into an easy conversation, Adrien helping his friend set up the old console. Focusing on such a menial task did wonders for his nerves. He was almost starting to feel normal. Almost.

Of course, just as he was beginning to relax, Marinette had to tap him lightly on the shoulder.

She might as well have given him a 1.21 gigawatt electric shock, given his reaction to both was about the same. If he’d been Chat Noir at the time, his superpowers might have actually propelled him through the ceiling.

“A-Adrien?” Marinette tilted her head, taken aback by his startled shriek. “Are you ok?”

Subconsciously, Adrien’s hand reached up and he clutched his chest, fingers burying into his jumper as if it would cure the frantic beating of his wild heart.

Because she was there, right in front of him. Marinette. The girl he’d kissed last night.

His eyes flicked down to her lips before he could help himself.

“Adrien?”

The second time her voice permeated through his cloudy mind, something snapped inside of him. It was as if he were a character in a film, once played in slow motion, now fast-forwarding.

“Hey!” he cried, louder than he intended, and the people around him turned to stare. He looked at her eyes instead, with far more intensity than normal, mainly because he was so intent on not looking at her lips any more. “Marinette! It’s my friend- Marinette! My good friend, I’m good! How are you? You good- good? Yeah, I’m good, friend. How are you? Did you have a good Valentine’s day?”

WHAT?! Adrien’s brain-filter kicked in far too late, but began screaming at him nonetheless. Why would you ask her that? WHY?! You know how it went! YOU WERE THERE!

Marinette blinked, and it proved just how far gone he was that he found her blinking adorable.

Her blinking.

“Umm,” she blushed, unsure of what to say and, honestly, Adrien couldn’t blame her. He sounded insane even to his own ears, and he’d just asked her something quite private. Actually, he was surprised she wasn’t berating him for it. Then again, she thought he didn’t know about her encounter with Chat Noir.  His words may have seemed innocent to her ears.

What a mess Adrien had gotten himself into, and it only seemed to grow worse with every bit of word-vomit he expelled.

(Was it bad that he felt a tiny bit of pride at her blushing? Probably. But he was going to hell anyway so he might as well enjoy the slow descent at least a little bit.)

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Marinette glanced baffled at Nino, whom Adrien could see shrugging from his peripheral vision.

But he couldn’t care less.

Because he’d just noticed her hair. Or, more specifically, how she was wearing it.

In place of the red ribbons usually tied into her loose black locks, were two green ones instead. Vivid green. Chat Noir green.

His brain collapsed in on itself.

“I’m good-good too.”

Marinette was teasing him. She was grinning and she had green ribbons in her hair and Adrien was going to DIE.

“Good! That’s good!”

Great. He’d always wanted to die sounding like a partially strangled mongoose.

Marinette, mercifully, took pity on him and waved a controller in his face, offering him a place in the first race of the evening. He sighed, relaxing a little, but only a little. Gaming was fine. It was a welcome distraction, as long as he didn’t sit too close to her he’d be fine (who was he kidding? Of course he was going to sit close to her). At least, when he was focused on blue shells and Bullet Bills his brain couldn’t fixate on the meaning behind Marinette’s ribbons, if there was any hidden symbolism he was missing.

Suddenly the thought of seeing her that night, of apologising, seemed that much more dangerous- forbidden almost. But he had to do it. He owed it to her as her friend. Even if that’s all he could ever hope to be.

Nino still hadn’t finished setting up, and a few other members began helping him in their eagerness to get started. As a result, Adrien found himself more alone with Marinette than ever.

They sat down on the floor, controllers in hands, side by side. Their shoulders brushed, like they always did.

Adrien swallowed, wishing he’d worn a t-shirt instead of the woollen monstrosity currently overheating him.

He was fairly sure he was going to lose the game spectacularly.

His fears were proved right when, later that evening, Marinette’s knee brushed against his own and he ended up sending Donkey Kong careening off the end of Rainbow Road.

It was going to be a long night.

***

For the fifteenth time that evening, Marinette called herself an idiot.

Because she was an idiot. An idiot for standing on her balcony, an idiot for hoping lightning would strike twice in the same spot, an idiot for following her heart…

Tightly wrapping her cardigan around her, she gazed out into the mocking skyline. The bitterness of the cold February air was nothing compared to the bitterness she felt building up like sludge in her chest. Bitterness in her fortunes, bitterness in her decisions, bitterness in her own feelings.

Distantly, Marinette thanked the stars that at least it wasn’t as cold as it usually was. She was thankful she had a tiny shred of dignity left at least- that she wasn’t freezing to death in the vain hope that Chat Noir would show up again.

She reached up, fingers brushing against her lips, and remembered.

Furious with herself, Marinette shook her head, as if the rough gesture would expel all the unwanted memories from her mind. Honestly what was she doing acting like a silly sixteen-year-old with a crush? Again?! It was desperate, obsessive, ridiculous-

And totally in character if she was being honest with herself.

She needed a break. A breather. A respite from her own whirlwind emotions regarding the man in the black mask, the man who’d held her heart for longer than she cared to admit to anyone- not even Alya.

Stuffing her hands in her pockets, Marinette let out one last frustrated sigh before turning on her heels and making her way back to her room. Maybe her room would be less of a reminder, would save her from her torment.

But, as usual, fate had other plans for her.

Because, of course, Chat Noir happened to be standing there as if he’d suddenly popped into existence.

The shock of seeing him sent Marinette stumbling backwards with a cry, tripping over a flowerpot and tumbling to the ground.

“Whoa!” Chat called, rushing forward to catch her just in time. One hand gripped her flailing wrist, the other pressed against the small of her back as he pulled her towards him.

For a moment, both of them froze in place. Chat’s fingers splayed across her back, and she briefly felt the edges of his clawed-gloves scratching gently against the fabric of her cardigan. An involuntary shiver ran up her spine before she could control it.

Chat’s eyes widened and he stepped out of their half-embrace with awkward, jittery movements, casting his face away from hers. “Sorry,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry I shouldn’t have startled you. I guess I have a bad habit.”

Bad habit huh? Marinette had one of those too.

The silence which settled on them both was heavy, uncomfortable, and borderline unbearable. It was laden with memories of the night before, swirling around them, echoing in their minds as though they were standing in an empty theatre, watching their mistakes projected on a screen with no means of escape.

Because it was a mistake… wasn’t it? She hadn’t meant to kiss him, he probably regretted kissing her back. That was why he was here- of that she was sure. To think he was here for any other reason was just asking for a broken heart.

But, oh god, it hadn’t been a mistake. Not to her. She couldn’t ever consider it to be such.

Finally, Marinette could take the silence no longer. Taking a deep breath, she fixed a smile onto her face, painted a picture of a girl who had herself together at least a little, and placed a hand on her hip.

“No rose tonight?”

Chat’s cat-ears twitched. He peered over at her with a puzzled frown before he realised she was teasing. Something dark crossed his eyes and Marinette forgot how to breathe. The look was gone before she could concentrate on it fully, and she found that he was smiling back at her.

“Err, n-no. No. That is- I mean- unfortunately not,” he replied with his signature bow. “But I do have something far more important.”

“Oh really?” Marinette squeaked, inwardly cringing at how lame she sounded. She’d wanted her voice to be sensual and teasing, but instead it sounded like she’d inhaled a ton of helium instead. Clearing her throat, she tried again, arching her eyebrow for good measure and all the while thrilled at the fact that he was simply there. Chat Noir was there. He’d come back to her. “What’s that?”

“An apology.”

Marinette’s blood ran cold.

“About last night,” Chat continued, shuffling from foot to foot, completely unaware of how Marinette’s body, mind, and heart had seized up all at once. “I feel like I made a terrible impression. I- well- I’m not the type of guy to do… what I did.”

From the depths of despair and panic, Marinette felt the faintest hints of confusion. She latched onto it. Confusion was better than rejection.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice small and vulnerable, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Well I’m not really a playboy or anything, despite what the media likes to speculate about me. I don’t kiss strangers on balconies. I guess, I didn’t want you to have the wrong impression about me.”

When Marinette hung her head, Chat felt a wave of regret wash over him. He’d practiced what he wanted to say, over and over again but it never seemed enough to fully explain himself- not without revealing to her that he was Adrien Agreste and he’d been lying to her this entire time. He was too afraid of the ramifications of that- so he needed to end this now- before he hurt her.

Damn it, he’d gotten so close though. So close to knowing what they could have- what they could be.

But it was a fantasy. Chat Noir was a large part of him, but it wasn’t all of him. The person he was behind the mask was locked away from Marinette, was a separate entity in her eyes.

Who was he fooling? They couldn’t be together. Not like this.

He had to try harder as Adrien and if she rejected him he would simply pick up the pieces of his broken heart. He would respect her, be her friend, move on, and certainly not use Chat Noir’s hero status as a means to trick her into loving him. She deserved better, deserved the world, even if he wasn’t the one to give it to her.

That’s why he had to leave. Right now. Being here, being this close to her, was crumbling his resolve. Every cute gesture she made was another step closer to his damnation. He had to leave before he said or did something he’d regret, before his principles were lost to the wind.

“It was Valentine’s day. I guess… it’s easy to get swept up in the romance of the day, right?” Marinette said. She was smiling, but the sparkle in her eyes was dulled somehow. Once again Chat’s attention was drawn to the green ribbons in her hair, as she quickly tucked a few strands behind her ears. He couldn’t bring herself to speak as she grew distant, deep in her own thoughts, and her shoulders raised. “But if we’re being honest Chat, I was worried you’d see me in a bad light too. Like- I mean- I’m not the kind of girl who kisses random celebrities and I’m certainly not the type to blab to the press about it either.”

“I didn’t ever think you were,” he uttered, swallowing thickly, and a little bit of sparkle returned to Marinette’s eyes. Her cheeks turned pink again.

Chat felt his claws digging painfully into his palms.

“Well… that’s a relief. I mean I always admired you,” Marinette stammered out the confession before she meant to, quickly covering her blunder with half-truths. “You know you saved me once- from an akuma. You didn’t notice me at the time, and it was years ago, but I never forgot.”

Chat felt as though he’d been physically struck by her words.

He’d saved her? He’d saved Marinette? And he hadn’t noticed her?!

“I wish I’d seen you,” he said before he could help himself. The rest of his desires remained unsaid, as new possibilities, new what ifs, formed in his mind- like an alternate reality.

Chat inwardly cringed. No way in hell was he going to get any sleep that night.

“I wish you’d seen me too,” Marinette admitted.

Chat’s hand was halfway to hers before he yanked it back, his heart beating wildly, his mind screaming at him to leave. The pull was almost tangible, magnetic, drawing him closer to her. It was dangerous, and he needed to leave.

“I hate to be a sundae, but I have to split!” he laughed, high and fake, all the while cringing at what was perhaps the worst pun he’d ever made. And that was saying something.

Marinette didn’t say anything, but laughed once.

Ok, she thought, maybe she was ridiculous, but he was equally so. Maybe that’s why she loved him so much.

She watched him make his way to the edge of the balcony and something stirred inside her, the raw feelings which had sparked when their lips had met woke from their slumber, and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Chat?” her voice matched the soft tremors echoing through her body, and she tried to remember to breathe. She couldn’t let him leave like this, she’d been so close. “How about…one last kiss?”

Chat stilled, statue-like. His lips parted, and Marinette panicked.

“I mean!” she corrected, face turning to flames, “I mean sorry that was dumb- so dumb. It’s just that I- I liked that kiss and I thought- I don’t know what I thought- but I wanted to-”

His lips crashed into hers, and the rest of Marinette’s sentence was lost forever.

Chat kissed her, kissed her with a resolve thoroughly destroyed and a heart so indescribably owned; owned by her, possessed by her, consumed by her. His hands were frantic, and Marinette matched him in every way as they pressed into each other. Her fingers gripped the back of his head, tangled in his hair, and pulled him closer.

Like he needed an excuse to get closer to her.

The pair of them moved apart to breathe, great shuddering breaths, and then their lips were together again- as neither of them could stand to be apart for a moment. Chat’s fingers slid from her hands to grip her hips, a primal, dark part of him triumphant as he heard a moan slip from Marinette’s mouth.

They stumbled backwards, towards the wall, and Chat pressed her against it, hands roaming her sides- never going too far- always listening to her reactions. Desire coursed through him, a need to please her, to make her moan again, without pushing too far.

She must have sensed him falter, sensed his caution, as a frustrated hum rose from the back of her throat, almost like a purr of her own. Her hands moved from his hair, gripping the bell around his throat, and she tugged him down towards her, kissing his neck.

Chat was having a hard time not passing out from that alone, but then she rolled her hips, making it so there wasn’t a sliver of streetlight between them, and he was fairly certain he died and was reborn on the spot.

Dangerous was the word whispering in his mind, the word he was ignoring as his hands cupped the sides of Marinette’s face, tilting her head back. She arched into him again, countering his movements like a dance, and he gasped.

It felt too natural, too perfect… almost…familiar.

Dangerous he thought as his tongue flicked against her lips.

Dangerous- he thought as her mouth opened and he was rewarded with another moan.

Stop. Stop before you can’t, he pleaded with himself as Marinette’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, her fingernails scratching against his neck.

He didn’t stop.

They kissed for what seemed like hours, passion moving from an explosive force to one of slow-burning sensuality, settling into a rhythm that was far too natural, but neither of them could bring themselves to mind.

It was a long time before Chat could bring himself to leave her, to stop kissing her. It was addictive, intoxicating, and filled with promise. For months his heart had been starved, yearning and wishing, and now it was real. Their kisses were real, her affections were real.

And so was her voice, ringing out in the coldness of the night, in answer to his question, “May I see you tomorrow night, Princess?”

There was a pause, both of them treading on thin ice, ice which slowly creaked and groaned beneath their feet.

“Yes,” she breathed, and the ice shattered, plunging them both into unknown depths.

(art to follow)

compassion. | 1

Originally posted by jeonsshi

2 | 3

not requested.

“Your ass looks great.” “Will you fuck off for a second?”

“You’ve really fucked me over this time.”

“Please let me in.”

genre: fuckboi!jungkook, roommate!jungkook, possibly smut in the future? angstish for now tbh

How you ended up with the world’s biggest fuckboy as your roommate, you don’t know; actually you did but still why you stayed you don’t know. This was seriously one of the world’s wonders; there were no common interests or reasons we had to get along but somehow we both ended up in this place together. You had been placed in the same apartment thanks to your friend Jimin who was moving to his own place and he said he’d look for a roommate for you, you didn’t expect that guy to move the worst person he could possibly choose into your home.

“I’m sorry, okay? He needed a place to stay after getting kicked out of Youngjae’s place.”, Jimin sympathetically told you whilst you tried to enjoy a meal. “If they kicked out, what makes you think I want him?” “Come on, he’s like a younger brother to me, he’s your age. Give him a chance?” “He’s literally the worst, since the day I met him I’ve wanted to murder him.” “Jeez, you need to stop hanging out with Yoongi.” “Besides the point, Jimin.” “I’m sorry, just give him a chance, if you can’t stand him, just leave, come to me, I don’t care, but give it a go. I kinda do wanna live on my own now?” “Am I the problem?”, you asked unamused by his hectic argument. “No, no, it’s not you, it’s just easier to get to work and school from my new place. You’re always welcome over if you need to stay or something, don’t worry.” “Fine, this is all for you Park Jimin.”

The things you do for this guy; you had a soft spot for Jimin, he was like an older brother to you. The one you never had, he really needed a roommate and soon you became friends, that was after realising you guys had mutual friends. Well, now you were living with Jungkook for Jimin’s sake.


It wasn’t too bad at first, neither of you spoke to each other and when he did attempt to make conversation you would simply tell him: “Did we agree on talking at this time or am i hearing things?”, causing him to sigh and give up on trying to gain your friendship. Other times you were forced to speak to him, like when he was in front of the fridge, the stove, the microwave or the door. “Move out the way dickead.”, you told him after he was blocking the entrance to the bathroom. “That’s not how you pronounce Jungkook!”, he pouted as he dried his hair with a towel. “Was I trying to pronounce your name? I don’t think so and you’re still in the way!” “My apologies, my lady.” He would always attempt to joke around with you and be friendly, but you assumed he was doing so to be civil not to be friends with you after he dropped you and Isla back in high school, even if you weren’t friends with Isla anymore, it still sucked.

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Long time coming

Bucky x reader

Notes: fluff, hot coffee, Steve and Sam are bratty.

A/N: I needed something short and sweet. So here it is. Enjoy! x 

Summary: a morning incident involving hot coffee finally brings Y/N and Bucky together. 

The moment Y/N walked the kitchen door of the small cabin, Bucky’s eyes were fixed on her. Even though she just woke up and looked a mess with her bedhead and her oversized MIT jersey, he couldn’t stop watching her. As she reached over to the coffee machine she moaned softly -but dramatically- at the movements she had to make to get her daily fuel.

Bucky couldn’t help but smile. She always had a dramatic streak, in a humorous kind of way.

“You alright there, soldier?” He chuckled at her, trying his best to not stare at her ass when she reached up to grab a mug from the cupboard. She wasn’t wearing anything but her cotton panties underneath the MIT jersey, and Bucky wasn’t complaining. 

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Mister Hockey and the boy crying in the kitchen


Here’s the first part of a fic- AU where Bitty and Jack meet for the first time at the EpicKegster. 

Note that the second part of this is not written yet, and I’m crushed under my to-do list, so don’t expect it soon and please don’t ask when the next part will come, I don’t know. But I wanted to share this with y’all, so I hope you enjoy. 

I apologise for errors, typos or weird sentence structure, all my editing power is and will be concentrated on my own novel, so ha. 

pairings and warnings: pretty much what you get from the canon





Jack went down the stairs with a huff of annoyance. The first floor of the Haus was packed from wall to wall. Loud thumping music, laughter and yells that were barely tolerable from his room now seemed almost tangible, crushing him from all sides. He could already feel the beginnings of a headache.

He pushed his way through and managed to reach the kitchen unscathed. Only three guys were sitting at the table, loudly debating Plato’s cavern versus the Matrix, and another was leaning on the counter near the stove, muttering to himself.

Jack opened a cupboard, swore under his breath when he saw that it was empty of their usual mugs, glasses and bottles. He took a new red solo cup from the enormous pack available to all, and filled it with tap water, trying to ignore the guys at the table.

‘…aren’t you the most precious thing, baby…’

Jack turned around. The guy next to the oven was muttering endearments with a southern drawl- but there was no one next to him. He wasn’t even holding his phone.

Jack had a doubt. Was the guy talking to him?

‘Yes, you are lovely, a bit old, but I would love you, and take care of you, and create glorious things with you, oh sweetheart, if only…’

The guy was not talking to Jack. He was talking to the oven.

He was also, apparently, completely drunk.

‘… better things than pizza rolls, you can be sure of that, you sexy thing…’

Jack was a moment away from heading back to his room when he heard a sob.

‘… but it’s not to be, pretty thing, you and I will have to go our own separate ways and- sniffle- get with our own lonely lives and - oh lord, I’m being ridiculous-’

‘Huh-’ started Jack. ‘Are you okay?’

The guy turned around. He looked older than Jack expected. At least, he seemed to be over eighteen. Jack only had an impression of eyes and blond before he got the drunkest and fakest smile he ever saw in his life.

‘HI!’ said the boy. ‘Gosh, you’re big.’

‘… are you okay?’ repeated Jack.

‘Why, yes, of course! I’m peachy!’

‘You’re crying.’

The guy seemed surprised by this fact. He dried his tears with the sleeve of his hoodie and made a dismissive gesture with his other hand.

‘Don’t mind me, sweetheart, I’m being silly.’

‘…You were crying,’ insisted Jack. ‘And talking to the oven.’

‘Well, no one else seemed to give her love, so I figured-’

He stopped himself and looked at Jack.

‘You’re the Captain of the hockey team,’ he realised. ‘This is your house. This is your oven.’

‘…Yes? In a manner of speaking?’

‘What’s her name?’

‘Whose name?’

‘The OVEN,’ insisted the guy.

‘She- it doesn’t have a name?’

‘Blasphemy. If I had the chance to own such a lovely baby, I would name her something adorable! Like Daisy, or Betsy, and I would bake everyday, I would make pies and cookies and biscuits and-’

He burst into tears.

Jack threw a look around. The guys at the table were staring at them.

‘Dude, what’d’you do to him?’

‘Nothing!’

‘D’you break up with him or something?’

‘No! We just met! He was talking about the oven- and then- and then-’

He made a helpless motion towards the crying boy.

‘Maybe you should do something about it?’ suggested one of them.

‘Like what?’

‘Dunno. Something. To make him stop crying.’

Jack hesitated. He thought about retreating to the safety of his room, where the music didn’t hurt his ears and blonde strangers didn’t burst into tears at the sight of a kitchen appliance.

Awkwardly, he lifted a hand and patted the guy’s shoulder.

‘…there, there,’ he muttered, feeling like the most ridiculous man on Earth.

He got several thumbs ups from the table residents. Which didn’t help his predicament at all. The boy was still crying.

‘Hey, hey, shh, don’t cry, everything is going to be okay…’

‘You don’t know that!’ wailed the blonde boy.

‘Okay, you’re right. Maybe, huh, what could make it right?’

‘I want to BAAAAAAAAAKE!’

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