#and to add my own story:

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Finally caught up with Apothecary Diaries. I can't believe they gave Maomao a gun.

[rainbow-demoness]

I'm now thinking whether there's any merit to replacing it with "at once" in like, a simple English context or somesuch.

However, I'm much more interested in the story of how "transportation" got you grounded.

Today I learned that wordpress has introduced an AI "assistant" to help people write and I learned this by having the thing king hit me out of nowhere by warning me that "immediately" is a "complex word" and I know it's just a stupid robot with no context but this thing warning me, a writer, that the science fiction story I'm writing has a "complex word" (so watch out!) and that word is the dirt basic word "immediately" filled me with a moment of incandescent rage the likes of which I've never felt before and I'm awake now.

Anyway it's easy to turn the robot off but this reminds me of the time I got grounded for using the word "transportation" as a teenager and this time there's not even a person doing it.

[unpretty]

that post earlier got me thinking about how i'm subbed to a few poem of the day newsletters and dracula daily and all that, but i haven't seen, like. a short story of the day newsletter. like a fiction magazine but if you subscribe you get curated short-enough-for-email stories in your inbox on the reg. it feels like somewhere out there someone must already be doing this. but whomst.

[felassan]

(๑•ᴗ•๑) if your Dragon Age elf OCs were elves that had manifested from being spirits rather than elves that had been born, what kind of spirit would they each have been?

[alicornze7]

Silly guys goin' on silly adventures:]

@rorydrawsandwrites's puppeteer au but the only difference is that jax gives consent

My contribution to this wonderful au has been long overdue:')

Rambling in tags ehe (cw: ribbun:p)

Well maybe it's not the only difference

[rsenak]

Just a regular Thursday night

[childrenofcain-if]

Alternate universe where D is a football player because I can honestly see it 😂

They'd still be FwB with MC, who's a cheerleader (I love cliches heh). But at one of their final matches, they immediately run to MC after winning and kisses them in front of everyone. I've been thinking about this a lot

the locker room smelled like a nauseating mixture of sweat and antiseptic. there was an overall nervous energy in the whole area because of the upcoming game: the biggest of the season.

yale (bulldogs) vs princeton (tigers). the oldest college football rivalry in america since 1873. truthfully though? you really did not have that as your priority at the moment.

D’s shoulders were tense as they leaned against the row of lockers, their football gear half on, half off, like they couldn’t decide if they were gearing up for the game or gearing up for this conversation with you. you stood in front of them, your arms crossed, trying to hide the way your voice wavered as you spoke.

“why are we even doing this if it doesn’t mean anything to you?” you asked, your words sharper than you’d intended. you didn’t want to sound hurt, but the cracks were already showing and you hated yourself even more for it. “you said you loved me, D. was that a joke?”

D flinched, their jaw tightening.

“it wasn’t a joke,” they muttered, not meeting your eyes. “you know it wasn’t.“

“then what the hell is this?” you gestured between the two of you, the space that felt both too close and too far apart. “why can’t you just—” you stopped, biting back the lump rising in your throat. “why can’t you just be fair to us for once?”

D ran a hand through their damp brown hair, their helmet still sitting on the bench behind them. “because it’s complicated, alright? i’m really not good at this. i don’t know how to—”

“how to what?” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “how to be with someone who actually loves you? how to let yourself care about someone? how to not be a complete asshole?”

their silence was worse than any answer they could have given. you felt the sting of it like a slap.

“forget it,” you said, your voice quieter now, resigned. “this isn’t worth it. i’m not worth it, apparently. not to you.”

“don’t say that,” D said quickly, their voice low and rough, but before they could step toward you, the door opened, and your cheer teammates poked their heads in.

“hey, come on!” one of them called, her tone light but urgent. “we’ve gotta go!”

you hesitated, your gaze flicking between D and the exit. you wanted them to say something—anything—that would make you stay, that would make you believe this wasn’t just another dead end. but they didn’t.

so you left, letting the door swing shut behind you, leaving D standing there with their heart in their throat and everything unsaid on their tongue.

***

the stadium was alive in a way that almost felt sentient, the roar of the crowd reverberating through the air, through the ground, through your chest.

the cheer routine was designed to dazzle; full of sharp, explosive movements, tight formations, and splits that skimmed the edge of possibility. every count of the eight-beat rhythm had its place: a high V at one, a perfectly synchronized clap at three, a ripple of tumbling that broke apart and came back together like a flock of birds midflight.

there wasn’t room for hesitation. you had drilled it for weeks, the choreographer shouting corrections until the moves were muscle memory. your body knew what to do, even if your mind was stuck somewhere else.

somewhere else was D.

you couldn’t see them from the sidelines, not at first. the field was a mass of bodies, yale’s blue and white clashing violently with princeton’s orange and black, and it all blurred together under the floodlights.

the roar of the crowd pressed against you, a wall of sound that rattled your ribs, the kind of noise that demanded participation. you gripped your pom-poms tightly, smiling like your heart wasn’t threatening to give out, and launched into the first set of motions.

high kick. clap. shimmy. back handspring.

on the outside, you looked flawless, exactly like what the crowd wanted: all energy and excitement, no cracks in the façade. on the inside, your chest was a knot, the fight with D replaying on an endless loop in your head like a broken VHS tape.

the pyramid was next, the most complicated part of the routine. the bases braced themselves, strong and steady, while the flyers climbed onto their hands. you were in the middle, the top of the pyramid, the highest point for the crowd to see. it was a position of trust. you had to believe your teammates wouldn’t let you fall. it wasn’t something you usually thought about, but tonight, the irony cut deeper than you wanted to admit.

when you extended into the final pose, one leg straight, one bent, arms raised, your eyes landed on D for the first time.

they were in the huddle, standing tall as the team circled around them and the coach, their helmet tucked under one arm. the older man was shouting something you couldn’t hear, D’s face fierce with focus. you wanted to stay angry, but instead, you felt your chest tighten.

D was magnetic in the way they moved, their command of the team absolute. you hated how much you still wanted to be near them, how much your body betrayed you even when your heart was screaming.

the pyramid dismounted, your teammates catching you as you came down. you barely noticed the applause; you were too busy watching D jog onto the field for the first play.

***

D’S POV

D glanced toward the sideline. toward you. again.

it was ridiculous, the way you could disarm them from thirty yards away. you weren’t even looking at them. your head was bent close to one of your friend’s, your pom-poms hanging loosely in your hands. you were supposed to be listening to your captain, but D could see the faint smile on your lips, the way you kept sneaking glances toward the field like you weren’t paying attention at all.

like your eyes were searching for D.

D tore their eyes away before anyone could notice. they didn’t need their teammates teasing them about this—not right now. it was bad enough that their chest felt like it was caving in every time they saw you, bad enough that your fight before the game was still fresh in their head, your voice sharp and shaking, your words a blade sliding between their ribs.

why can’t you just be fair to us?

the truth was, they didn’t know how to. not the right way. not in a way that didn’t make them feel like they were standing naked in a room full of strangers, every scar and bruise and ugly thing about them laid bare.

you deserved better than the mess that they were. you deserved someone who didn’t flinch at the idea of love. someone who could give you everything without being afraid they’d ruin it before it began.

but even as they told themselves that, D knew they couldn’t let you go. not really. not ever.

“alright, team,” coach barked, snapping D back to the present. “this is it. princeton’s undefeated this season, but so are we. you want to be champions? prove it. show everyone you’ve got what it takes.”

the team roared their agreement, slapping helmets and clapping shoulders, the kind of camaraderie that made D feel grounded and restless all at once. they shoved their helmet on and jogged out to the field, their cleats digging into the turf, their breath coming steady and sharp.

they could do this. for the team, for the win, for yale.

no.

for you.

***

the first quarter passed in a blur of plays and hits, the kind of bone-rattling intensity that left D’s hands shaking with adrenaline. they took the snap, rolled back, dodged a tackle by inches, and launched the ball downfield.

the crowd erupted as yale’s receiver caught it just shy of the endzone, but D didn’t stop to celebrate. their eyes found you again, like a compass always pointing to their north star.

you were clapping, your pom-poms bouncing, but there was something off about your gorgeous smile. it didn’t reach your eyes, and D knew it was their fault. they’d put that ache there, and it killed them to see it.

focus. they had to focus.

***

the second quarter was worse. princeton’s defense was relentless, their linemen big enough to make D feel small—a very uncomfortable thing. every play felt like a war, every hit a reminder of how close they were to losing. the score was tied at halftime, and the locker room was a mess of noise and sweat and tension.

“get your head in the game, diaconu,” their coach snapped, pulling D aside as the team filed out. “you’re playing like you’ve got something else on your mind. whatever it is, leave it in here. got it?”

“got it,” D said, even though they didn’t.

they didn’t leave it in the locker room. they carried it back onto the field, where it sat heavy in their chest, driving them forward and holding them back all at once.

you were watching. D could feel your eyes on them every time they stepped up to the line, every time they called a play. it made them want to be better, to play harder, to show you that they weren’t just a coward who couldn’t say the words you needed to hear.

it wasn’t enough to just win. they had to earn you back.

***

YOUR POV

you watched in horror as princeton’s linebacker, a hulking person who looked more suited for professional wrestling than college football, blindsided D after a throw.

it was a dirty hit, helmet to helmet, and D went down hard. you froze, pom-poms slack in your hands, as the crowd erupted in boos. for a second, D didn’t move, and your chest seized with panic. but then they rolled onto their side, their hand going to their helmet, and relief flooded through you so fast it made you dizzy.

they got up, wobbling slightly, and waved off the trainers who tried to check on them.

your fingers dug into the plastic of your pom-poms, the edges biting into your skin. you wanted to scream at them to stop being so stubborn, to let someone take care of them for once. but you were stuck on the sidelines, powerless to do anything but watch.

it was the last quarter and the score was tied, and every play felt like life or death. the crowd was on its feet, the noise deafening, as D took the snap for the final play. they dropped back, scanning the field, their movements precise and fluid. princeton’s defense was closing in, but D didn’t flinch. and then, with a leap that seemed to defy gravity, they threw the ball downfield.

touchdown.

the stadium erupted. the crowd screamed. the cheer squad jumped and waved their pom-poms like their life depended on it, but you couldn’t move. you just stood there, your heart pounding, your eyes locked on D.

they ripped off their helmet, their face flushed and damp with sweat, and for a moment, they let their teammates surround them, clapping them on the back, shouting their praise. but D’s eyes were searching, scanning the sidelines, until they found you.

and then they ran.

it wasn’t graceful or dramatic—it was desperate and urgent, like they couldn’t get to you fast enough. the crowd blurred around you, the noise fading into a dull hum, as D closed the distance between you.

they didn’t stop when they reached you, just grabbed you and pulled you into their arms, burying their face in your shoulder like they were afraid to let go. you could feel their heartbeat racing, their chest heaving as they caught their breath.

“i’m sorry,” D said, their voice muffled against your uniform. “i’m so sorry. i’m an idiot. i was scared, okay? i love you and i didn’t want to screw this up. i didn’t want to screw you up.”

you pulled back just enough to look at them, their gray eyes raw and unguarded, and you felt your own walls crumbling rapidly.

“you love me?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

D nodded, their hands gripping your arms like you might vanish if they let go.

“i do. i love you,” they said, their voice cracking. “i love you so much it scares the hell out of me.”

you didn’t even realize you were crying until D’s thumb brushed a tear off your cheek. you let out a shaky laugh, leaning into them.

“i’m still supposed to be mad at you,” you said, but there was no heat in it.

D smiled, and it was the kind of smile that made your chest ache.

“yeah,” they said. “but can you be mad at me and be completely mine?”

you nodded, choking back a sob as you wrapped your arms around their neck, pulling them into a kiss. the noise of the crowd surged back in, louder than ever, and it mingled with D and your teammates hollering suddenly. but it didn’t matter. nothing mattered except D’s lips on yours, their hands on your waist, the way they held you like you were their centre of gravity.

when you finally pulled back, D rested their forehead against yours, their breath warm against your skin.

“will you still be cheering for me, baby?” they asked, their voice soft but hopeful.

you laughed through your tears, pressing another kiss to their lips. “always.”

[luvlian]

previous | next | beginning

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I came here for the silly haha doodles, but I've stayed for the absolutely blazing commentary in the tags. Your analysis of this story is so so so good! Thanks for all the work and thought you put into this!

I am just a silly little comics blog. I am not hiding anything in the tags, no way. Never.

[thatswhatsushesaid]

psa that the day there are no jgy stans left on tumblr dot com is the day i am dead

but rest assured i'll go to my grave exactly as i lived: obnoxiously proclaiming to everyone within earshot how great lianfang-zun is. narratively, metaphorically, spiritually. sexually, too, like why limit myself. i like to keep my options open

[atalkingcrow-likething]

[paintalyx]

don't get me wrong, i love that tshd anime is getting so much attention, but i already dread how many people who haven't interacted with the manga will deny "hikaru's" aspec coding once the anime reaches the point where it's explored, because they already have this idea of him formed in their minds.

the issue is, he's wonderful rep! one that is very near and dear to my heart, and so refreshing in its approach at that! and it's so easy to cast aside that aspect of his character in favour of a romantic (amatonormative) mlm relationship.

it already irks me a little how many posts i've seen online from people who interpret "hikaru" as an allegory for homosexuality. just. generally how easy it is for those folks to disregard "hikaru" as his own person with likes and preferences, and make him out to be this narrative tool instead.and i unserstand it's because we're looking at him from yoshiki's pov, and the story is still in its early stages. there is a purpose to us not knowing much about this eldritch being possessing the corpse of a teenage boy our mc had been in love with. i also understand that we rarely get this flavour of lgbt+ stories, and we cling to whatever we can get

i guess i'm just disheartened because a part of the story that is very dear and meaningful to me is bound to completely fly over many people's heads at best, and be deliberately ignored at worst—

[cent-scratchnsniff]

something bad did indeed happen to that man. spent abt 25 minutes trying to find a better picture of that one (1) offical piece with his eyes open that wasnt compressed or tiny

[psychomusic]

oc time again! + her town & culture (heavily inspired by pre-roman italic populations)

she is suri sauthon. her story is linked to my swtor imperial agent, tar'x, but most of her life except for the one year away where she meets him, is spent in a town in the mountains of mirial.

despite mirial being cold and desert, and many cities developing underground, her town flourishes thanks to a force nexus, venerated in the form of an ancient, sacred, alive crystal. the ecosystem of that mountain depended on what "the horned crystal" was capable of giving them, but mirialans couldn't live off of that alone, so they developed trade and some rudimental technology, even if oftentimes it was bought thanks to the highly profitable trade of a plant used to make medicines that slowed down aging and had overall healing properties.

note: everything that's generated by this nexus has these healing properties BUT they have to be processed, except for those who bathed in the waters of the cavity under the crystal - the "real" nexus, but not the worshipped one. the waters were sacred but they were not thought to be miraculous, unlike the crystal, who instead was thought of as the keystone of the ecosystem: without it, everything would fall apart (and that is partially true: the cavity was the "real" nexus but thanks to the crystal, also strong in the force, the properties were spread all over the mountains). those who bathed in the cavity's waters - so, all of the town, who had a sort of baptism there - could eat the plant, make whatever food with it, and not only that plant, but everything generated by the nexus, that, again, had similar properties. this allowed people to live up to normal life-spans without advanced medicines or, much, really. to those who didn't live there, though, after the processing, had incredible effects, slowing down aging - for those who took it regularly - and making people able to live up to half a century more than the average]

originally, there were four tribes of nomads that lived thanks to horned farm animals that decided to settle down into one bigger town and other smaller settlements, to live off of transhumance. this division of the tribes stayed into the political and social organization: every person belonged to one tribe specifically, and had slightly different rituals and culture. for examples, each tribe had their own priests and healers, with different techniques and traditions. the town, tho, was guided by a group of people in the high priesthood, a position you could reach only by having earned the trust of all tribes. those high priests had many roles: they guided the people into sacred processions common to all the tribes, they managed the trading with outsiders, they did the maintenance of the temple of the summit (the one that functioned as casket to the crystal) and created a special liquid to offer the crystal that helps it grow.

this particular temple was important because 1. it was very visible, from every angle of the town, and it became an important identity symbol; 2. it stored the venerated horned crystal; 3. it had the altar where sacrifices were made for the crystals. that altar had a hole connected to the cavity, that allowed the liquids to reach the underground; 4. it had various symbols: statues representing each tribe + the high priesthood, and typical mirialan tattoos carved into the wood of the trees that served as columns for the temple, symbolizing 8 values that who dared to enter HAD to have; 5. it was on the way to an important lake (called "mother lake" because the lake the town was built around to depended on the waters of that other lake) where they traveled to in important processions; 6. it was said that a the wizard who unified the tribes made it with its magic, making the plant grow to hold the temple's roof. this wizard was, actually, a force user, obv.

BACK TO HER THOUGH: she's daughter of one of the high priests, who was in charge of managing the trades with outsiders, and lives in a house on the mountains with her mother and him. her parents are from different tribes (that's one of the things that earned him trust from the 4 tribes): when a child is born from two different tribes, they don't pick one to allign to, but they're usually linked automatically to the one with more relatives in it (in her case, the father's tribe: she had many uncles and aunts on his side while her mom only had one sister).

later, though, she got quite tied to her mother's tribe due to a mysterious illness that only her mother's tribe healer was able to cure. she spent 4 years (from 10 to 14 years old) living with the healer and learned her secrets. to better study, she wrote them down. when she returned home, she studied to become a priestess with her father. at 22 (the average age: you can't become priest before your 20s), she was supposed to take a test and become a priestess, but the healer of her mother's tribe died and the tribe asked her to take her place. she couldn't technically do that, but both tribes estimated both her and her parents and she was allowed to become both. she then decided to try to become a high priestess, and became one at 25 (a quite young age). being part of the council, she tried to convince the various tribe healers to unite their knowledges and write them down, and eventually made it. healers still remained tribe based but they now had an "upper, inter-tribe level" similar to high priesthood.

years later, the sacred horned crystal is stolen from the temple by some Hutt mercenaries looking for a profit. given the trust she has earned from all the tribes and the fact that her father is the high priest that deals with outsiders (and she's been hearing stories and advice about it since she was little), she is the one tasked with getting it back. without the growing crystal, the keystone to their ecosystem, the village would have lasted only a few years. in hrr quest, she meets imperial intelligence agent tar'x laran and, as they "solve the mystery" and fight to have it back, they get closer. they'll get married and have a daughter, Vegoia (who's the only one who actually will get to the plot of my story. this was all background)

[rnnsdrms]

‪‪❤︎‬ daughter of the ceo of a prominent company! reader who had once been one of the key investors in the blue lock project. skip a couple of years later, reader’s parent’s faith in its success is validated since many blue lock graduates now dominated the world of soccer, securing spots on top teams like paris x gen, bastard münchen, fc barcha, manshine city, ubers, and the like. and it just so happens that reader’s parent’s company is one of the most prestigious sponsors, promoting multiple teams as their marketing strategy. with their meteoric rise captivating the global stage, your parent’s interest is piqued once more. and so, they devise a plan—an almost, no, undoubtedly the most diabolical scheme yet. they will decide which team to sponsor more based on whom you, their rich and beautiful—but for some mysteriously reason single to the bone—daughter, would choose as your future husband.

however … you are in the dark about their plans.

perhaps your perpetual singleness stemmed from your domineering parents (don’t old money people are?), or perhaps it was that very old money madness that led them to orchestrate their most audacious move yet. so, when they ordered you to embark on a secluded vacation with some of the world’s top soccer players—strictly and personally handpicked by them, of course—you found yourself in an overwhelming dilemma.

enter the boys—each one having heard of your parents’ proposal: if any one of them could win your heart and marry their daughter before the New Year, they would be granted a lifetime sponsorship. tempted by the irresistible promise of wealth and support, the boys are ready to do anything and everything to claim you as their prize.

[burningcheese-merchant]

Dude why did I just realize just now that you're the same person that made that fic about fire spirt parenting tiger lily that I was obsessed with at one point

You mean Flaming Lullaby? You read that? And you liked it enough to be obsessed with it? 😭 This made my morning, honestly. I always loved that part of the hanja run comics, where Fire Spirit is tasked by Moonlight with looking after Tiger Lily. I know the comics were never canon, but I thought it was such a charming idea that I HAD to do something with it, you know? It has so much potential. So bittersweet. I love bittersweet things. It's canon to me haha

(There's one more chapter btw. A big, long epilogue set in the future, when Tiger Lily is grown. I wrote the outline eons ago, all I need to do now is write the actual chapter haha. I'll try getting to it after some other stories I need to get started on)