#I might actually write this it would be really fun and I’ve been itching to make some fic lately

[astronomodome]

There’s an intricate AU forming in my head where zedaph becomes a magical girl (worm man) by making a deal with an ancient eldritch worm god (willy) and has to contend with not only wacky and silly monsters but also other magical girls blessed by rival gods, such as grian (blessed by the poultry god) and scar (blessed by the god of being hot). All while keeping up with his personal life as an unethical scientist creating chemicals that only turn you into a terrifying rampaging abomination some of the time (he is paid to do this)

[see-arcane]

A message to all the assorted unscrupulous undead: Beware the Ides of March.

To everyone else: Grab your kukri blades, your bowie knives, your stakes, your bone saws, and whatever else you have on hand to appropriately accessorize with your new copy of The Vampyres.

The book is out! Loose! Running rampant and bloodstained through the terrains of eBook and paperback alike!

My beautiful little baby, toddling into the literary world to deliver havoc unto the dastardly bastards of the revenant realm. I’m so proud. (And so happy to feel the stress headache finally start to crack.)

Now that The Vampyres is out in the open, a brief FAQ under the cut:

Where can I get the eBook?

Check out the Universal Book Link (UBL) here:

It’ll show you all the places you can grab a virtual vampyre by the throat.

Where can I get the paperback?

For folks in ‘murrica, I’d say hit up Bookshop.org to go and grab it from your physical store of choice:

You can also just search The Vampyres C.R. Kane and see the waterfall of options. Not sure of the exact timeline, but it should be more widely available in the coming weeks. At least hereabouts:

Pictured: Places to potentially purchase a paperback.

Can I get it at my library?

If you ask for it, yes! You’ll need the ISBNs when filling out your library’s request form, so:

eBook ISBN: 9798218374594

Paperback ISBN: 9798218374587

What’s the status on that paperback cover business?

Current status is still ???

At least in the sense that I’m not sure what version of the book cover you might get at the moment. Original matte? Temporary glossy? Updated matte that’s here to stay? No idea at the moment. My self-publishing page shows the update’s confirmed, but the online stores are still using the first version as the preview image and I’m not sure when that gets swapped out. At least the books are all print-on-demand, so whatever you order, just know it’s not coming from some thrown-away backup heap. It’s fresh from the book oven press.

Anything else I need to know?

First, reviews are extremely welcome! I am running on negative budget when it comes to waving my little flag to announce that I Made a Scary Vampire Book, so I’m really relying on word-of-mouth if I want it to actually get its head above water. Leaving stars and comments wherever you can, be it in the online stores, the Goodreadses or Smashwordses or whatever else, would be a big help.

(Really though, I can and will dissolve into a puddle of relieved ego if I see so much as one (1) Nice Comment on Tumblr, my cesspool of choice.*)

*This is not hyperbole. I can count on one hand how many PROMOTION © ™ posts I’ve made on Twitter and have fingers left over. This novella is tailored to my fellow fiendish bookworms on here.

Second, to those coming by this stuff for the first time and don’t know what all this hoopla is about, a preview of my novella, The Vampyres, is available on my website. Give it a gander if you want to see under-appreciated classic supernatural bogeymen dropped into their own horror story.

Thirdly, lastly, vitally: thank you.

The Vampyres is a beautiful accident that came together out of an itch to rattle something out just for myself; a break from a bloated piece that had turned into a chore which burned me out and threw away the fun of scribbling. A lightweight read that saved me from being crushed by a cinderblock.

By the same token, the people on here have shouldered me up and out of the creative pit of thinking ‘This is all for nothing.’ For all that I talk of how much I’m powered by spite and the desire to Read a Specific Thing only to realize I Have to Write That Thing First, I’d be a liar if I said the kindness and excitement of the folks who’ve been reading my nonsense for (holy hell) TWO YEARS in the wake of the first big Dracula Daily surge didn’t have a major role in getting this thing done.

I did make The Vampyres for me. But it’s for you guys too. For everyone who saw one of my rambles or little fictions and spoke up to say, I love this! I was thinking this! I wanted this! Finally, finally!

When you crack open the cover for the first time, on a screen or in your hands, I want you to know I’m thinking Thank You at you. I hope you enjoy all the horrors inside.

Postscript:

If you want more info on other stuff I'm tinkering with, check out my website here:

[patrophthia]

Tom Riddle x reader with this?

“I think I might need to be hospitalised for possible heart abnormalities, or possibly cardiac arrest.” “What, why? Are you okay? You look okay—” “No, because my heart keeps beating the fuck out of my chest when I’m around you and I don’t know what kind of disease I’ve come down with and frankly, I’m really scared.” 

It seems like something he would say😭

omg it so would!!! i actually had so much fun writing this and it was such a breeze to write hehe

new jeans, do you see? | tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x reader

genre: fluff, OOC!tom (sorry not sorry), tom’s a big softie here, tom isn’t a maniac here he’s just a normal dude, writing powered by me listening to new jeans by new jeans for 15 mins straight

is a small bonus chapter for a series of mine

There's something off about you, Tom didn't notice it at first but he does now. Something about you is different and it's irritating him in every way, like an itch you know you can't scratch.��

He hates it, he notes. He seems to be noting a lot of things down lately. Like for one, he's noted down how you've been more radiant, more attentive towards him than to others, more beautiful, more —what's the word? enchanting? Yeah, that's the word. 

And for two, he's noted down that whenever he sees you, hears your voice, (he's going to sound weird here) smells your scent, he feels his heart picking up a few too many paces and it truly was concerning if he thought about it. 

It started two weeks ago, he thinks —he seems to be thinking a lot too lately. You've gotten back from Hogsmeade with a new hair do, new crisp jeans and tee shirt; and had asked him if he liked it. “It's a snake," you tell him, pointing at a small green embroidery on your t-shirt, "do you see?"

Tom nods, looking more than uninterested in this conversation as he tries —in every way, to go back to his book. But you add, "it reminded me of you. 'S why I bought it." 

His stomach does an uncomfortable flip. You bought something because it reminded you of him? He wants to say something but someone else speaks up before he gets the chance to. 

"Did you really turn Rosier down?" Your friend, someone who's name he can't recall, asks. 

You whip your head towards them. "Where'd you hear that?" 

Your friend gasps dramatically. "So you did turn him down," they say, "are you crazy? Rosier's hot as hell why would you turn him down?" 

Your eyes unconsciously drift to Tom then back to his friend. He doesn't overthink why you'd look in his direction before saying: "Because, I have my eyes on someone else." 

There were a few more instances since then, he doesn't know why he remembers every single one of them like the back of his hand but he doesn't let it get to him. This weird feeling of —knowing, and yet so confused all the same on why you've been so different, frustrated Tom to no extent. 

It almost feels like a game now, to go on and on again for something so strange yet familiar. 

When you take your seat next to him —like you would every other time you two shared a class, Tom decides that he has had enough. He feels— no, hears, the soft pitter patter of his heart when you greet him good morning with a soft smile and he hates it.

Something was shining you in a different light and he's more than sure that someone must've slipped a potion or two into his breakfast (as if this hasn't been happening for the past week). 

He says your name first, tone stern. And when you turn to him. "Yes Tom?" You ask, face full of concern; he can feel his heart swelling. "I think I might need to be hospitalised for possible heart abnormalities, or possibly cardiac arrest." 

It takes you a second to process his words. Blinking at him, before you it clicks in you that Tom might be sick. "What, why? Are you okay? You look okay—"

"Heart palpitations aren't diagnosable from mere looks," he says sharply, and you frown at him. "Something must be really wrong with me because my heart keeps beating the fuck out of my chest when l'm around you and I don't know what kind of disease I've come down with and frankly, I'm really scared."

You look at him, really look at him, and try not to smack his stupid stupid face. "Tom," you sigh softly, "Tom darling, do you hear yourself?" 

You use the pet name in a patronising way, that's another thing he notes. "Yes." He says. 

"And you do realise that people's heartbeats quicken when they're nervous, right?" 

Tom nods first. Then he adds, "are you suggesting that I'm nervous when I'm around you?" 

"Not really." You eye him carefully. "I'm suggesting that you get nervous around people you like—" and when Tom's brows furrow at the word, you specify. "—fancy, around people you fancy." 

"You think I fancy you?" Tom's response is so bafflingly loud that he startles himself upon hearing it. 

"I don't know," you shrug slyly. "I fancy you and my heart beats the fuck out of my chest whenever I see you too." 

Tom considers you for a second and doesn't let his eyes wander to your lips, he doesn't let himself think about it, not even a bit. Basorexia isn't going to get him today. "Was I the one you . . . ?" 

"Had eyes on?" You finish for him. Tom nods. "How could I have my eyes on someone else when I was looking at you, genius?" 

You're smiling at him, eyes adoring as you look at him. He knows what's off about you now: two weeks ago, your hair was different, your jeans were different, your shirt was different, and Tom was different. He didn't realise just how into you he was then. 

But he does now, and since he figured it out, he thinks he deserves a reward for it. And if basorexia did win, so what? At least he gets to kiss you, that's a win in his book, he notes.

[bluedalahorse]

I took 24 hours off, did some writing for school (just revising a poem, but I’m going to do a second poem or more tonight if I can manage it) and have managed to mentally sort through what’s upsetting me.

And the conclusion I’ve come to is: I’m actually really, deeply sad that I can’t write fanfiction right now.

I mean, I’m also way off my routine, and having my period, and going back to work after a long, needed vacation away soon. But the fanfiction thing is part of it.

I used to assume that original writing and fanfiction writing scratched the same creative itch. I thought I would be okay switching over to original writing! To be fair this might have been true at another time, in another fandom. But I think for YR fandom it’s different, because I’m essentially writing the things in YR fandom that I have to write by myself if I want them to exist at all. And that’s the way I practice fandom for YR—by creating my own stuff, and by exploring the characters I’m most interested in exploring.

Having that personal sandbox of fanfic is so important, because it gives me a concrete thing to do instead of flailing and going “why isn’t there more fic for me??? why can’t I convince people that [random idea] would be such a cool direction to take [character]’s arc in?” For instance, I’ve been upset lately because I can’t find much in the way of fic that takes a more hopeful stance toward August’s future, or fic that proposes an AU or future where saraugust has a different outcome. (I like how things ended in canon, but their backstories are compelling and their faces are cute and I’d like to see them smashed together more.) A lot of the August fic right now is August/Vincent (which I don’t ship romantically, even if I have tried, just to have something to read) or it deals with August having suicidal ideation (which is personally triggering for me to read about.)

I’m also in a place where like… outside of canon and Heart and Homeland and conversations with a few trusted friends, I don’t actually think I’m interested in wilmon at all right now. I hesitate to post this, because I know it’s kind of annoying to point out that you don’t like a massively popular thing. I don’t mean it in a malicious way, and I’m trying to be truthful about why I feel isolated. And I guess what’s really going on here is, like, 50% overexposure to the pairing (which is my fault, and curable with filters and hiatuses) and 50% some of the culture that’s sprung up around them (which I guess is what I do wanna address, for whatever that’s worth.) For some fans, hating August and Kristina and only ever seeing/writing them as villains is an extension of the culture of shipping wilmon and part of the fun. For some fans, hating Sara for so long post-s2 (and some fans still do!) was an extension of shipping wilmon and part of the fun. For some fans, sorting characters into good and evil camps based on how they affect wilmon is an extension of shipping wilmon. And then there’s been the intense parasocial focus on Omar and Edvin (and to some extent Felicia?) that’s sprung up in some corners of the fandom, which bleeds into the wilmon shipping culture. I know a lot of individuals don’t ship wilmon in some or all of those ways. Unfortunately a lot of that “baggage” in the shipping culture has soured wilmon for me for the time being. I’ve got the pairing blocked and I feel like I’m still dealing with like, the way those things impact the broader YR fan culture and how people interpret the characters and such. It feels very hard to escape.

When I’m able to write fanfiction, I sort of have like… an outlet. Like I can write a fic where August or Kristina or Sara or Nils or Vincent is as complex as I want them to be. I can write a fic where Felice gets to be more than a “good friend” or a romance cheerleader. I can write a fic where Linda gets to be human and make mistakes and isn’t the perfect mom who ships her son. I did write some of those fics and I feel amazing about it! And even if I never finish or post a fic in full, it’s okay, because at least I’ve still gotten to play with the fictional toys I love, and have fun. It’s a bonus if I get to connect with people about it.

But right now… I feel like I’m watching everyone play with the YR Barbies and I’m behind a glass wall sitting on my hands and can’t play. And I feel like people keep dismembering the August Barbie and scribbling on him and putting him in the microwave (a wholly valid way to play with August Barbie I guess, but I have other plans for him that I can’t carry out right now, and that makes me sad.) And there’s some Barbies sitting in the corner untouched that I have excellent ideas for.

I guess the ultimate solution is that I need to do some more intentional stepping away from tumblr like I did in the spring. Not leaving completely, but like, having a set time of week I get on and a set way I engage. Talking to individual folks more on discord when I can. I’m going to take another 24-48 hours to think about it and then put my plan into motion.

Since I can’t play Barbies right now, I think it will just help to not see the Barbies being played with in front of me. If that makes sense.

For all that I unloaded a lot of messy venting here, I do hope everyone’s weekends are off to a good start.

[dimorphodon-x]

Through the Captain's Eyes

Wanted to go back to that miniseries I wrote a short while back about @cuppajj's SG sentient Lost Light AU, this time a few excerpts that are in Rodimus' POV. Figured it might be a bit fun to try to write as well as hopefully help me exercise in writing Roddy at least a little bit.

I most certainly got some of the continuity wrong but honestly I don't really care and I'm too tired to try and fix it anyway lol.

—

—

Pain ripped through Rodimus’ chest and arm, but he didn’t scream. An odd sense of relief instead filled his foggy mind, and he suddenly felt light. Yes, he actually felt good. This was great! Finally!

He reset his optics and glanced at the two giant smoking craters that had blasted the left side of his chest open. How did this happen exactly? His memories were clouded, and it didn’t help that he was actively bleeding out.

The prime’s vision was starting to fail as alerts clogged up his thoughts. His head fell back against the captain’s seat as he stared blankly at the door. The walls lurched for him as his gaze focused on the deep slashes on the doorframe, and he spotted a familiar glint of blue in the torn metal before he slipped into unconsciousness. Yes, good. Finally.

…

Rodimus again opened his eyes, blinking a few times. What happened? Where…? Oh…

Oh no…

He was still here. 

The unpleasant throbbing coming from his shoulder said that the injuries hadn’t been a dream. So what…?

Rodimus felt his spark freeze as he spotted the familiar white shiny armor clinging to his rotten frame. It had been crudely ripped apart, cut up and welded back together. 

The prime turned his attention to the door again, particularly the deep cuts on the frame. Small splatters of energon revealed the location of a few blue talons. If it wasn’t clear enough that they had been violently ripped from Starhawk’s fingertips, their tiny deeply set muscle cords hung from their bases. 

Red eyes again flitted back down to the white armor on his shoulder and chest. Rodimus’ vents stuttered and wheezed as his spark spun frantically.

‘No no no…’

“Ah, Captain! I’m so glad you’re alright!”

‘No no no!”

The Lost Light’s holoavatar stepped into view, a warm smile on their deceitful face. Rodimus wanted to shout obscenities at them and throw them across the room.

“I was so worried!” Their smile widened, “it took a lot of work to make sure you stayed alive, and I’ve been waiting anxiously for you to finally awaken again. I’m so relieved.”

The mix-mashed prime just stared quietly at Lightlost. He couldn’t really do much else, as much as he wanted to.

The avatar turned their attention to the doorframe and frowned, “but it was certainly an unpleasant surprise when Starhawk suddenly turned on you. I thought he loved you.”

They approached the door to further examine the damage, “but if he did, then why would he do something so horrible to you? There’s only one explanation of course…”

Rodimus’s fingers itched to move as he watched the avatar start to remove the talons imbedded in the frame, ‘Where is Starhawk? Where is he?!’

“I’m sorry, Captain,” Lightlost hummed, “if you are wondering where he is… well. He was too dangerous to keep around. After that stunt he pulled, I had no choice.”

Another rattle went through Rodimus’ vents. No. They didn’t… no way…

But the evidence was all right there, slapped onto this very frame and stuck in the wall.

Lightlost had killed Starhawk.

The avatar paused as they heard the captain’s frame rattle, wheeze and hiccup. Upon turning around, they’d see tears start rolling down his cracked face.

“Oh Captain…”

…

It didn’t take long for Rodimus to start slipping back into his own head again. The best way to make time pass by faster was to ignore it, and what else was he supposed to do?

He almost didn’t hear the soft shift and creak of metal approaching him. It was certainly not Lightlost. The avatar made virtually no sound, being made up of light.

White armor stalked into his line of sight. Wait… what?

Cold fingers carefully slipped under his chin and his head was tilted back. Rodimus felt his processor stall at the sight before him. Starhawk, seemingly alive, with half a face and the inner workings of his chest exposed on one side. Drool dripped from the exposed teeth on the damaged side. Were they always that sharp? Was this a nightmare? A dream?

The apparition (for what else could this be?) studied the prime’s face, hesitation flitting through his pale optics. Rodimus’ spark spun as he stared back.

“R…od…?”

His vents sucked in a breath and his eyes brightened. This wasn’t an apparition! Hawk was real! He was alive!

The white mangled mech twitched in surprise, his armor slightly flaring. Rodimus watched his optics dim in thought. While he had no way of knowing what Hawk was thinking, it was clear he was struggling as his face strained with desperation and frustration, and something else he couldn’t quite pick up. And he was drooling even more, which was… honestly gross.

Eventually Hawk’s expression hardened and he wiped off his face before crouching down low enough for him to press his broken crest against the prime’s in a rare embrace. It was unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome.

But what was that odd whirring sound behind him?

Starhawk flinched, his optics brightening as he stepped away, four tendrils reeling back into his back plates. Those were new. When did he get those things? They looked deadly. Oh, that answered his earlier question.

“I’ll… return,” the flier quietly croaked as he retreated into the shadows, “I’ll save you.”

‘I hope so,’ a sigh escaped Rodimus as Hawk vanished from his sight.

The doors opened and Lightlost walked in with a wide smirk.

‘I really hope so…’

…

Rodimus likely would’ve fallen right back mentally if it weren’t for the few times Starhawk visited him. His visitations were short, and far from sweet. The odd jet often circled the chair he was resting on like a frustrated predator, which he really sold the appearance of when he crawled on all fours, forearms stretched and part of his legs bent and reshaped to better support such a style of locomotion. It was honestly a rather bizarre sight.

‘Ow!’ Rodimus silently shot Hawk a glare when he lunged forward, tucking his head under his arm, and sinking long teeth into his back.

At least the fraggin weirdo had the decency to look somewhat sheepish as he backed off to examine him again. What the hell was he doing anyway?

He never did get an answer as the apparent sparkeater slunk back into the wall through the vent, leaving Rodimus alone for another long while.

And of course, the ship’s avatar eventually discovered the bite marks the jerk left behind. Just great.

…

Hawk had stopped visiting.

Rodimus wasn’t sure how long he had been waiting, but it had been a long time. Things occasionally happened on the ship, mostly curious and stupid trespassers, but he was almost never aware until after the Lost Light had taken care of it. And of course, Rodimus had a few more internals that needed to be replaced. That always sucked. He always felt nauseous after every new replacement, and couldn’t relay his discomfort to Lightlost. Not that he wanted to anyway.

But this time Rodimus tried not to retreat back into his head again. He had no reason to think Starhawk was truly dead now, reasoning that he may be trying to work out a plan of escape and it was taking him a while, or even just waiting for some kind of opportunity. He knew Hawk could be very patient if he needed to be, something that Rodimus couldn’t really say for himself under more normal circumstances.

But now he had to deal with nightmares. Or just dreams in general. Oftentimes, he dreamed that Hawk successfully killed him. He either slashed his throat or bashed his head in, or successfully shot his spark. The worst dreams were when Hawk truly was dead, perhaps having already died with everyone else. Rodimus sat completely alone for eons, trapped in his own rotten frame as deafening silence engulfed him.

Those ones made him feel sick every time he finally woke up from them.

Rodimus was suddenly jostled from another dream as a pair of deathly cold arms hurriedly scooped him up from the captain’s seat. His optics had yet to fully online when he felt icy tendrils tangled themselves around his body, tightening uncomfortably around joints and loose plating. The pointed prongs at the ends dug under armor and into vents, close to some very critical functions. The paralyzed prime blinked as he stared up at Starhawk, panic starting to rise as the monstrous jet grinned down at him with half a face and a wild look in his pale eyes.

“We’re getting out of here,” his voice came out in a crackling snarl, drool grossly dripping from his maw and onto the captain’s platting. Ew ew ew ew, “one way or another, Dear Captain.”

The remaining talons Hawk still had painfully dug into his frame and Rodimus silently wheezed as he was squeezed against his chest, the tendrils slowly tightened their grip.

Rodimus barely noticed or heard Lightlost confront the sparkeater, his thoughts running wildly through his head as again he was constricted by Hawk’s dangerous embrace. 

And before he knew it, they were racing down dark corridors, Starhawk barely containing the manic sneer on his face as he clutched Rodimus tightly and securely, his hold never faltering.

Excitement bubbled up in Rodimus’ chest as he realized the Lost Light wasn’t stopping them. Of course, Making a move against Hawk when he was able to maim or even kill Rodimus within an instant wouldn’t be wise. However this was going to turn out, it seemed like they would both finally be free from the sentient ship.

Oh this just had to be a dream.

He waited to wake up as they neared a tiny Decepticon ship left behind by a recent trespasser. He continued to wait as the door closed behind them and Hawk stepped over a colorless corpse to get to the controls.

As the ship shot out of the hangar and into the vast abyss of space, Rodimus felt his spark sing with realization.

This wasn’t a dream.

They had actually escaped. He was finally free!

The relief and excitement was overwhelming. Rodimus felt his frame tremble and his eyes stung. Starhawk eventually looked down at him and his expression softened in a way Rodimus couldn’t remember ever seeing.

“I did say that I’d save you, didn’t I?” He chuckled and actually nuzzled against his face, engine purring as he loosened his hold on Rodimus. ‘You did,’ Rodimus wanted to respond as the white jet started to laugh, ‘god I love you!’

[wrathkitty]

Also (hey it’s me, anon who’s obsessed with Din), I just have to say how much I love Short Debts and how much of an experience it’s been to read it. I think about getting dropped in the Star Wars universe a lot (almost an embarrassing amount) and your story has scratched a really special, specific itch I didn’t even know was there.

It’s so fun getting to read about an Earth girl in the Star Wars universe (side note: how is this not a more popular trope???), but then to have the story be so incredibly well-written??? It’s so unique and perfect and ugh! It hits just right. You include enough details to show Eleanor’s familiarity with Star Wars, but somehow that never takes us out of the story. Like, we know that Eleanor knows it’s a fake world, but that doesn’t make it less real—to us or to her. You do such a good job of toeing that line, keeping us immersed without shying away from the implications. It feels really effortless on your part, even though I’m sure that it’s not (or maybe it is, you’re super talented so idk).

Also, you’re an incredibly engaging writer so I would have loved Short Debts no matter what, but . . . Eleanor. Oh my god, Eleanor. Holy forking shirtballs, Eleanor! I love when writers give the reader an actual personality and backstory, even if it doesn’t line up with my own (but I’ve also never understood the hate against OC’s so idk maybe I’m just weird). That said, there’s been something so special about getting to read a Star Wars self-insert from the POV of a character I really identify with. I practice family law and have terrible ADHD so… yeah. I remember from an author’s note or something that you’re also an overeducated, underpaid millennial who works with kids (and maybe ND?), so I’m sure that you’ve put a lot of yourself in her (NOT a bad thing—also don’t get what fandom has against self-insert, especially when it’s done well). I’m glad you did—as an overeducated, underpaid millennial, it’s been really fun!

Also, there’s something about Eleanor’s thought process. Not just her background or the situation she’s in, but the way she rationalizes it. She feels real.

I think part of it is how she doesn’t assume anything. Eleanor doesn’t look at her surroundings and think, “this is the world from my television, so that means a, b, c, etc.” She’s more, “this looks like the world from my television” and doesn’t really think she knows something until it’s been confirmed in her new surroundings. Like the GFFA feels more real to her than her own. And something about that just feels sooooo right. I think it’s what gives the story weight.

It’s so weird. A lot of her behaviors are… exactly how I would respond to being dropped in a fictional universe. But somehow I never would have known if you hadn’t written it out first. I’m so curious—How did you know? I feel like you must really understand the human psyche. I always thought my first response to waking up in a fictional world would be something like “oh my god I’m in a TV show,” “give up now, just die,” “is this the afterlife,” “take advantage of insider knowledge,” “try to find a way home,” etc. But no. Actually, no, I wouldn’t do any of that. There might be, like, five seconds of discombobulation as my internal compass reorients, but after that . . . I’d just be.

Like how life is weird now, but we only think about it sometimes and never with much weight. And even if my surroundings looked similar to what I saw on TV, I wouldn’t consider myself to be in a TV show any more than I’d consider myself to be in a google image search while in Paris. There’s a clear, weird line between observer and participant, and I think you knew this intuitively, but somehow I never realized I would never actually question the validity of a world in which I was an active participant . . .

Sorry, I don’t know where I’m going with this! I didn’t mean to spam your inbox! I just really love your writing!! And I wanted to say thank you for putting something awesome out there!!

Also I saw something the other day about how Star Wars works best as a lens for other genres and thought of Short Debts. I think that’s another reason it’s so good. Totally a time travel romance with a Star Wars filter & I am living for it 😂

Good God, keep spamming my inbox! Comments like these are the crack that sustain me and kick the plot gremlins in their stupid faces to get them going again. Getting your comments was the highlight of my weekend.

It makes me so happy to know that you love Eleanor! As terrible as my writer's block is most days, I am incredibly grateful that the three OCs I've written took on a life of their own without me having to plot much out ahead of time.

And, yes, you are remembering correctly -- I'm an overeducated, underpaid millennial who works with kids, and I totally ride the ND rainbow. I like to joke that my mental history is a choose-your-own-adventure through the DSM-V. ADHD is a bitch, and to be able to navigate that while practicing family law -- damn. I'm sending you hugs and high fives and positive energy, but none of the squirrel cliches, because OMFG.

[doublegoblin]

A year and some change in retrospective

Okay so technically It’s like a year and 2 months and like a day. While I made the account and started posting things in November of 2022 I made my intro post on the 23rd of Jan last year so that’s when I’m going to count myself as having officially joined lol. I got thinking about this on my way into work today and I got a little reflective. I’m going to be kind of rambling (what else is new lol) but it dawned on me that, damn dude, a whole year is still like 300+ days and life can go wild directions. I also figured this may be nice for the newer people who have started to follow me (hello and thank you btw). Things won’t necessarily be in chronological order, I mean they might, but, I’m also liable to jump around.

So let’s start with some backstory, all good stories start with backstory yeah?

Me and my -at the time- bf(we’re still together lol just fiance now) were on our way to my aunt's wedding…running late actually because I had the day wrong and blah blah blah. To kill time on the 3hr car ride I started to spit ball this idea for a story I had brewing, that would then become Rituals and Red Tape. I was writing it for myself for a while as a way to deal with being let go from my last job. Well I then had the silly idea to maybe share this with people, so then we get to November and I make a profile and start posting.

That’s right, I started my path on here to be someone putting out original works of writing. I mean, if you go to my profile and check out the pinned post you’d know this but let’s be real, nobody really does that lol. And as those of you putting out original stuff also know, it can be pretty quiet at first. I had in my mind that I was just going to have my stuff on my blog, maybe reblog writing stuff only; that uh…didn’t last long. I’ve met some pretty cool people on here, even if we never really talk I’m happy to see your stuff cross my dash. It was the whole song and dance of you follow me and I follow you, support network stuff. Took part in tag games, an OC fighting tourney thing, and just some other fun things. All the while I’m posting little one-offs, a new WIP here and there…that I eventually just kinda stop working on in favor of my first child. 

I make a Wattpad and start posting what could be considered the 1.5 draft of the story. Things are fun, quiet, but fun

I start to engage in more fandom related things, because why not?

Then something happens, something that I didn’t think would take me in the direction I am going now.

I buy a $30 mic.

Voice acting and acting in general were always a passion of mine as a kid, and with a new stable job and comfy living I thought it was time to revisit some old joy. What was even better is that an artist I was following had a “casting call” for an animation she was working on. So with my little microphone and audacity(the program lol) I do the thing that changed my blog, I tried out…and I got a little part! I’ve never really been one to yearn for the spotlight but I took a chance and it worked out, and I was hooked after that.

So I started to use that mic more and more. First recording a short story of my own, recording a short story by a pal, then…well I guess you can call it doing some dub work.

Now in the past I had people follow me just out of the blue, but, with the first Five Pebbles recording it started to happen more and more. And those posts, well, they were getting some attention. Not a lot mind you, but like, more than the original works. Now I don’t say this with anger or bitterness, it’s just how stuff like this works out. So with what I thought was going to be a one-off thing, I knew I wanted to keep doing it. Yes the notoriety was fun, but more so, I was making something that was bringing people joy. So I recorded more, and more people saw it and liked it, reblogged it too.

Then I had that funny little idea. Something new to me that scratches a few itches at once. If you’ve followed me for THIS you know, the Kel Logs. Not only was I playing a game that I really enjoy(btw if you haven’t you should go play the game it is fun and but I won’t bog this down with info dumping), but I was doing some original writing and voice acting. It was the perfect storm.

Now I know I’m not the most well known person out there and this little fan fiction project isn’t like super famous, which I’m very okay with lol, but like the comments and stuff show I was having an impact on people in a small way. And it was having an effect on me, I was becoming more comfortable with my voice. Not going to sour the mood too much but I’ve struggled with voice dysphoria for a while and the joy I am able to bring people is so important to me, which I know sounds selfish.

So now here we are in the present, I know I’ve missed some stuff and simplified others, with people following me for fandom things and all that jazz. I thank every single one of you. Whenever my stuff get reblogged I do try my best to say something in the comments to those who say things in tags lol, sometimes tumblr won’t let me @ you but know I try. You all have no idea how much it means that I can bring joy to you and I don’t feel I can pay you all back other than to keep doing what I’m doing.

I haven’t worked on my original stuff in a while but I don’t think I’ll be tossing it to the side. In fact I know I won’t. I have a story I want to tell and it will be. So if you have any interest, please check it out and let me know what you all think. I want to always improve but I can’t know where to patch things up if I don’t hear about a leak lol. I’m getting super rambly so I’m gonna stop this here.

1 year later and I’ve gone from solely original writing to a strange hybrid of that and fandom stuff, and I couldn’t be happier with where I am.

So once again, thank you all so much for liking what I do and I hope to keep bringing you things to make you feel emotions.

[kolibri-herz]

I've been playing a solo rpg called Anamnesis and I'm surprised by how much fun I have writing and playing. It's also emotional in a way I didn't expect. And I actually kinda like my writing, so I'll share the first act on here. Let me know if you wanna read more.

The first thing I notice when I wake up is the splitting headache. The second? The distinct lack of light. As someone who grew up in a major city, I don’t think I’ve ever experienced darkness quite like this. I have no idea where I am, how I got here or even what my name is. And it’s hard concentrating with my left arm itching so much. As I reach over to scratch it, my hand touches something that feels like saran wrap clinging to my skin. At the same moment, I remember the sound of a tattoo machine, see it etching lines into my arm, see the skull of a raven holding a single iris inside its beak. Instinctively, I know not to scratch as not to destroy the black lines and shadows. I wonder if I have any more tattoos.

I need to distract myself from the encroaching panic about my situation, so I start patting myself down, looking for any clues of what might have happened. I search the pocket of my jeans and my fingers find a cold metal object. Feels like a ring. I don’t know why but suddenly there are tears in my eyes. Sad, yeah, but even more so, angry. The anger burns through my body, leaving devastation like a wildfire in a forest. And suddenly, I remember. I had a sense that it was coming, a whisper in my ear telling me that this was too good to be true, that I didn’t deserve to be lucky like that. But then I would look at her, her smile like the sun on a cloudy day, and as if she could read my mind, she reassured me that this was real, that she really loved me, that she wanted us to be forever. And I really believed her. Until that day I came home early… There are some things I would love not to remember.

I think it’s slowly getting less dark. Or maybe my eyes are just adjusting. I turn around, trying to make out anything. Then I hear a little pling. I feel the wooden floor for whatever fell down and when I find it after a little while I can’t help but letting out a triumphant “Ha!”. I can vaguely make out the shape of a cross, at least when I look very closely. An earring, maybe? Am I religious? Is this just a fashion statement? I try to tune inward, for a memory or even just a feeling but nothing. I have no clue.

[milkplusvn]

Happy New Yuri!

Tip: You can get these same posts sent right to your e-mail by subscribing to the newsletter.

Want the above image as a wallpaper? Check the Google Drive here: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1lLdmGA07HfqPN8zvqqob198h9nfbaQEk?usp=share_link

Well, everyone, what an active year it was for milk+ visual! After years of near-radio silence with hardly any blips from time to time, it's nice to finally be back in the development ring. Kinda feels like we've been broken out of amber!

Last year, we released the 5th anniversary definitive edition of Soundless, raised $320 USD in relief donations, and basically nearly completed Three Lilies and Their Ghost Stories. I am so very proud of all these accomplishments, and I'm happy that everyone has enjoyed their time with the new stuff and helped out with getting money to people in need.

We also got a new member of the team on board: Cherimoya! While Cherimoya is currently simply assisting with things like promotional art and editing from time to time, Cherimoya will soon be helping with writing as well.

This year, we can look forward to more great things. Here's the plan so far, granted nothing goes awry:

Three Lilies Release

Obviously.

I’ve been holding off on doing much because of the holidays. Actual progress update this week!

One Month Break & New Mascot

Exactly what it says! After Three Lilies is out, there will be a one month break. Need to replenish the juice.

During this one month development break, Magenta's girlfriend will finally be incorporated into the branding and her official design sheet will be released. Meet Monochrome Matrimony! She is the girl on the right in the above image!

With a penchant for sharp things, Monochrome was recruited into Magenta's roleplay as the surgeon to her nurse. While Magenta wields a syringe, Monochrome wields a scalpel. She is very creepy and wet unlike her peppy chipper girlfriend.

Neither of these people should be performing any sort of medical procedure!

Soundless Android Port & Art Patch & Artbook

Following the one-month break, development will begin for the Soundless Android port and an art update patch. For the art update patch, players will be able to choose between new art and old for the main story, and the CG gallery will be split into three separate sections: old art, new art, and Adiaphoron.

Naturally, the artbook will come with all the new art. Since the artbook wasn’t released at the end of last year as planned, might as well just put it in and release later, right?

7388 Development Starts Up Again

Once everything Soundless is at last squared away, 7388 will at last be worked on again!

At this time, a release can't really be divined from this roadmap. However, making 7388 a commercial project is being floated so that future projects can be better funded. The sale price likely won't be very much. It would be cool if it released at the end of next year, though. But I'm asking a lot from myself there.

The structure is going to be very fun if I can figure out how to organize it...! I'll explain more later.

Releasing on Steam

In the past, I have been wary about releasing anything on Steam due to its bad track record with visual novels, its DRM, and its underhanded tactics to secure a monopoly. However, should the current model of releasing only on Itch remain not viable, Steam may be pursued as another platform to sell on. Because that's life, I guess.

In the event this happens, 7388 would get priority, and then if I'm able to make the $200 to get them on there, Soundless and Three Lilies would be added to our Steam catalog as well. Due to its content, POLYCHROMANIA will not be considered for sale on Steam (or at the very least, I don't plan on fighting Steam alone for that one).

About POLYCHROMANIA

Development for POLYCHROMANIA will begin again after 7388 is released. One thing at a time.

That concludes this (kind of late) New Year’s post. HAPPY NEW YURI!

[greenhikingboots]

Hey Green!🤩 For the trope ask: Fake Dating, Reincarnation, Rivalry and Childhood friends. Thanks💕

Loula!! Thanks for asking. I typed up a reply on Monday and then totally forgot I never posted it. You can find the post being referenced, here. But also, I copied and pasted the important parts below. A: Love it. Spend my time combing AO3 for it. B: Like it. Not one of my bigger cravings, but it can scratch a certain itch if I’m in the right mood. C: Neutral. A good author might be able to sell it, but a bad one will kill it deader than dead. D: Not my favorite. I avoid it if I can, but it won’t necessarily put me off reading something. F: Hate it. Will immediately make me nope out of a fic. Now for the answers. - Fake Dating A! Love it! I read it and write it, and I’m so into it that it makes me go, “Gaaaaahhhhh I wish I was a better writer.” Wait. Don’t take that the wrong way. I’m not fishing for compliments. Like, I’m happy with my skill level as a hobbyist. It’s all good. But I love this trope so much I want to be able to elevate it even more, ya know? Super cute affectionate moments, but dripping with angsty uncertainty? What more could you want in life!? - Reincarnation C. Neutral. I guess? Not super confident about this answer because I haven’t read much of this trope. So I don’t know what other tropes usually get paired with it, and if it would be my jam or not. If we’re talking canon universe Jonsa, I’m all for fics that pick up right after Jon comes back to life. Like, that makes a lot of sense because that’s also around the time we expect Jon and Sansa to be reunited. Also, I went through a short stint recently of reading “Jon came back wrong” fics. And that was a lot of fun. But does that count? I’m not sure. And outside of that, I’m just not familiar enough with this trope to have a strong opinion. - Rivalry C. Neutral again. My Dramione days might be influencing me here. I once made a long post (which is probably now lost to a deactivated account) about how it’s actually not canon that Hermione *hated* Draco throughout school. I mean, sometimes he infuriated her. She slapped him. I get it. But for the most part, she had more patience for him than Harry or Ron did. She was more likely to roll her eyes and say something sarcastic than actually get mad. So I got tired of the rivalry/enemies-to-lovers trope with Dramione, especially if it emphasized being snarky childhood rivals instead of, you know… overcoming their history as an actual Death Eater and a Muggle-born witch!! Does that make sense? Like, I’ve seen too many fics that just act like their canon dynamic was different than what it really was (probably stems from more movie watchers than book readers) while also ignoring the major appeal of the ship, if you ask me. Buuuuut! Lately I’ve been spinning around some ideas that would combine fake dating and rivalry tropes for Jonsa, and that makes me like rivalry a little more than I would have said just a few days ago. Actually, calling my recent idea the rivalry trope might not be exactly right. But, like, a premise that would lead to a lot of distrust for them to navigate through while being forced to work together. That’s rivalry/enemies-to-lovers adjacent, and I like it. So that’s why I still gave it a C instead of D or E. - Childhood friends B. Like it. This trope is super sweet and I like it a lot. But compared to a lot of other popular tropes, it runs a great risk of being kind of bland in execution. So I think it needs to be paired with other fun tropes and/or strong storytelling elements to keep the tension alive. I think one of the things I really like about Jonsa is that their childhood allows for a familiarity and closeness and deep sense of caring, but not full-fledged friendship. Which means there’s still a lot of room for tension and growth between them. Love that balance.

What about you, Loula? How would you grade these tropes? I’m curious!

[xykesh]

Welcome to the Show

Let me start by saying I am immensely proud of my novels. I think they speak to a part of me and a phase of life that I really wanted to explore. But I’d be lying if I said they’re the only kind of story I wanted to tell, or that they scratched every creative itch I have.

More and more, I’ve been feeling drawn to long form, serialized storytelling. To stories about falling in love, becoming more powerful, and growing into adulthood. And I want to do all that. I want to make a story that is that.

So, here’s the pitch:

In the center of Asher’s most treacherous waters lies the island nation of Xykesh. Hundreds of years ago, the tyrant Digax fled to it as a refuge after his defeat. Since then, his power has shrouded it in storms and wards which let few people in, and none out. Nearly the whole of the island is now his domain, and what is left is wilderness full of monsters. Though the Mad King himself is a distant figure, his Chosen rule with unquestioned power over their subjects.

But their hold is not absolute. On the day Digax claimed Xykesh as his, a blind prophet foretold that an outsider from beyond the island’s shores would come, and they would end his reign. And so the King has dreaded their arrival ever since.

Many outsiders have arrived on Xykesh, either by accident, or in search of the truth behind the mysteries and myths that have sprung up around the island. The populace has been long conditioned to distrust these new arrivals, but so far, none have proven to be the ones the prophet spoke of.

At least, just maybe, until now.

And if that’s all you needed, here’s your link to the page with all the currently available episodes.

If you’d like a little more insight to my thoughts on the project, stick around, and let me ramble about this idea that’s been kicking around in the back of my head for, if I’m being honest, years now.

Ethos and Intent

Cards on the table: there are a lot of tropes that I am an absolute sucker for, and I really enjoying shipping fictional characters. I’m going to be putting a lot of that into this. My aim for this is to be a fun romp of adventure and romance that will, hopefully, occasionally punch your heart in the balls.

It’s still me writing it. I still aim for my fiction to have lean prose and minimal explanations of the world. I still want my dialogue to sound like actual people. But I’m gonna be having more fun with this one. It’s gonna get weird in places, it’s gonna get slapstick in places, and there’s going to be way more 18-20-somethings pining after each other and generally being 18-20-somethings.

I do still write every story like it’s a superhero story. Action and violence will be the solution to a lot of the character’s problems and a vehicle for characterization, people are going to be doing that action and violence to each other with lots of cool weapons and unique powersets, and getting a new costume or power will be treated as shorthand for character development.

This does take place in the same universe as the Glintchasers books. But it’s a big world, and Xykesh in particular is in a bit of bubble, story wise. So do not expect any canonical character crossover. I might do a non-canon what-if episode on like, April Fool’s Day or something.

Inspiration and Adaptation

When They Met in a Tavern came out, I had a lot of people ask me if the story or characters were based on a tabletop game I played in. And the answer to that was “No, it was a story I realized I couldn’t tell in tabletop, so I turned it into a book.” Outsiders is different. Outsiders is based on a campaign I played in. And I’m excited for that, but if you heard “based on a tabletop campaign,” and immediately got a feeling of dread, let me reassure you this is not a 1:1 translation of stuff that happened in that campaign.

That campaign had some great ideas that inspire me, but it was—by design—meandering, explorative, constrained by being a game, and largely pulled out of mine and my friends’ collective ass. It would make for a terrible read. What I’m doing is taking the best ideas from that campaign, and turning it into a serialized story with a beginning, middle, and end. Think the difference between Critical Role’s first campaign and The Legend of Vox Machina. Except I made a bunch more changes.

Structure and Release Format

The story of the Outsiders is going to be told within a structure of seasons, episodes, and parts. Four parts per episode, twenty-six episodes for the first season. I can’t tell you how many seasons exactly it’ll take me to get where I’m going—I’m going to throw out a complete guess and say five?—but I can tell you that this story has an ending, I do know what it is, and it is being written with that in mind.

New parts released Tuesdays and Fridays to start, subject to faster speeds if this actually catches on. I’m not going to charge full steam ahead on daily updates of screaming into the void when I also have novels to write and a day job to work, but if it’s for an actual audience, I’m prepared to kill myself enough to do a full episode a week.

For the sake of exposure, I will be posting this story to other sites (Royal Road, Inkitt, Wattpad). Literally, as many as I can get away with. But my own personal website will always get new updates first.

And...yeah. That’s Outsiders of Xykesh. Hope you consider coming along for the ride.

[hesperleveret]

The Protagonist Problem

I’m in the process of starting to write a new novel. Which is exciting, and also nerve-wracking, because I haven’t written a new novel in several years. After my previous novels failed to find publishers, I decided to concentrate on short fiction for a while. Which has been fun, but my brain is itching to write something long-form. Something with chapters and multiple point-of-view characters. Something with lots of world-building and character arcs and all that juicy stuff. Something I can really get lost in the writing of, for months.

No sooner have I started, though, than I’ve encountered a problem. The Protagonist Problem. There’s been a common thread in the rejections I’ve received from publishers, and the notes I got back from my erstwhile agent. My protagonists, I am told, aren’t protaggy enough. They need to be out there, doing more protagonising. Having more agency. Making more choices. All that stuff. I have a tendency to write main characters who are passive and mopey and don’t actually *do* anything. Stuff just… kind of happens to them.

And… now I’m doing it again. I’ve started writing a book with protagonists who aren’t doing all that much protagonising. More… sitting around moping and drinking tea and waiting for someone else to tell them what to do.

So. What am I going to do about my Protagonist Problem?

Well, part of me rejects this whole notion that protagonists need to be All Action, All The Time. Isn’t that all a bit Western-centric, patriarchal, white supremacist? After all, for anyone who is marginalized in some way – ie the vast majority of people in the world – agency is in short supply. Choices are constrained. And even if you’re in a relatively privileged position, you’re still subject to the whims of fate. Real life is less about going out there and making stuff happen, and more about dealing with the stuff that happens to you.

One of the things that’s happened to me is that I’ve been burned by the publishing industry. I’ve spent lots of time trying to write books which were supposed to be commercially viable, compromising my artistic vision and my enjoyment of my own writing process in an attempt to produce something publishable. And then I still got rejected.

So what I’m trying to do now is to write something purely for the joy of getting lost in a world of my own creation, without compromise and without concern for what anyone might think of the finished product. So what if my main characters are mopey? Maybe I like them that way.

All that being said…

I have identified, at an early stage, an issue with my writing that I have repeatedly been told makes my books less compelling to read. And I would quite like, actually, to produce a book that’s not just fun to write but also fun to read. Perhaps I should at least consider The Protagonist Problem from all angles. Perhaps I should have a think if there are any tweaks I can make to the story. Perhaps it’s possible to make my main characters more pro-active without making them completely unrecognizable as the people who’ve been living in my head rent-free.

Well, it turns out it didn’t take a huge amount of thought about my plot outline to identify a few crucial moments where my characters could be making more deliberate choices rather than simply doing what they’re told. So… I guess I’m the process of trying to resolve my Protagonist Problem? I don’t know how successful I’m going to be, but that’s all part of the ongoing process of discovery and delight that is writing a novel.

[jonsaslove]

I’m caving to @orangeflavoryawp and giving everyone some insight to my Robb lives au, that once again is still in VERY early planning stages.

So here’s a few general thoughts:

-I have thought about Robb surviving, one way or another, for ages and it is something that has sat in my “fic ideas” document since I started writing Jonsa. With all my Jonsa WIPs being completed for the first time in ages, it’s been something I’ve been mulling over recently.

-I think I mentioned this before but Robb’s survival would create an ungodly amount of logistical nightmares for Westeros and when I start plotting out ideas I’m always left with HOW and WHY some things would play out.

-Now as for why I want to pursue this, I think Robb’s death is a key factor for a lot of what happens later in GOT and it affects all the remaining Starks profoundly, so of course that makes it a juicy idea to explore, which is what I’m kind of looking for at the moment. Something to challenge me creatively! Robb is an interesting character to me and I’d like to explore him more, I feel like his memory features heavily in a lot of my fics but how about changing that dynamic up? Also the indulgence of reunions that never happened…of course.

-Then, you know I’m not going to write something without Jonsa…obviously. That’s where things get even more dicey, no spoilers of course, but I do have some thoughts on how Jonsa will play out pretty well, and I’m willing to say it would be in a way that I’ve never actually written Jonsa before, so that’s interesting! Jonsa is not my concern though lol, it’s more of the politics I am still playing around with.

-Also, if Robb lives, well that opens up other…issues. All I’ll say is that I intend for the Tyrell family to be pretty heavily involved in this AU. 👀

-Lastly, and I feel that I’ve done well giving some insights to this without giving away ideas or main plot points so far, but I’ll say outright, my intention would 100% be that if Robb lives, Cat is not dying either, and I ADORE Cat, but you know that there will be…conflict, ahem, Jonsa.

Anyway, I know a lot of you have been expressing interest in the Robb Lives AU as I’ve been calling it so I hope this maybe gives you some insights, if you have any comments or questions or honestly advice on how you think Robb surviving might change things in Westeros just let me know. I’ve never really posted a lot about my fic writing process before so this was fun to write out! No promise on when this will actually get published but I’m itching to write Jonsa again so hopefully sooner rather than later!

[adoringhaikyuu]

when their teammate has a crush on you | 2

characters: akaashi + kyoutani + osamu + tendou

request: aaaaaaa!! i was stalking your feed when i thought of something 👉🏻👈🏻so you did a "when their teammate has a crush on you" and i reaaaally loved it a lot🥺could you do it with tendou, akaashi, kyoutani, and osamu? if you want to!! • by @kalesugar​

warnings: osamu and tendou’s are suggestive

notes: since osamu’s and tendou’s are sexual, everyone is 18+ in those but in the others there is no smut + (i might write a fic about tendou’s bc i’ve been wanting to write a smut w them idk if people want that)

part one | part two

akaashi:

so bokuto might have had a little crush on you

and it’s not like he would actually do anything about it

he respected you and akaashi and your relationship way too much

he even rooted for you two to get together, he thought you were perfect for each other (you were)

but he couldn’t help the way his heart would beat faster when you were around sometimes, the way his eyes would immediately drift to you when you walked in a room, the way your smile made him feel all tingly inside

he was honestly just waiting the feelings out and tried to act normal around you

he told akaashi about his crush on you cause he didn’t want to hide anything from him

and your boyfriend understood why he would have a crush on you, he couldn’t blame him––but that doesn’t mean he was too happy about it

realistically he wasn’t going to ban him from seeing you or anything, you were allowed to interact

but part of him felt a little odd when bokuto would make jokes with you, a light blush on his cheeks that you most likely assumed was from his laughter 

bokuto sure was making you laugh a lot tonight. the three of you were hanging out at his place for your weekly hangout and it seemed he just had an endless amount of jokes. it’s not that akaashi didn’t like his jokes, it’s just that he didn’t like that it seemed as though his best friend was making the jokes for the sole purpose of making you laugh. 

he thought he was doing a good job at hiding his inner thoughts, but in reality, you had picked up on them almost immediately. you waited until you were in the comfort of akaashi’s home, where you were staying the night, to ask him about it when you noticed he wasn’t going to bring it up himself.

“is something bothering you? could tell you weren’t really here tonight.” 

he looked away and shrugged, and you stepped closer to him.

“is it...maybe because bokuto has a little crush on me?” 

he held his breath for a second in shock as he looked at you silently, blinking a few times. “you...you know?”

you shrugged, a small smile on your face. “i had a feeling. i mean, your facial expressions may be minimal but i can still decode them keiji.” he blushed and looked down, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “i could tell you were watching him a little more closely when he would talk to me.” 

“i...i trust him, i do.” he looked into your eyes, “and i trust you too. it’s just...it doesn’t really make me feel too good knowing that bokuto-san,” he muttered the next part, “with all his muscles and charm––has feelings for you.”

you shook your head and put your hands on his cheeks to look into his eyes earnestly. “you have nothing to worry about baby, i promise that. you’re the only man i have eyes for.”

his hands found their spot on your waist as he gave you a small, but grateful and loving smile. “i know. i love you.” he kissed you lightly and you smiled against his mouth. 

“love you too. so much.” 

kyoutani:

let’s say oikawa likes you––

well more-so that he finds you attractive and can’t help but flirt with you from time to time harmlessly

kyoutani doesn’t give a fuck sfkjdh he will growl at his captain

sometimes he’s not even in the mood, he’ll just take your hand or throw you over his shoulder while you’re talking to oikawa and just walk away 

meanwhile oikawa is just pouting and complaining to your boyfriend as he blatantly ignores him

“you know it’s not very nice to interrupt a conversation like that, mad-dog!” 

oikawa wouldn’t actually try to steal you away from your boyfriend, but he did have some genuine questions that were borderline offensive sdfjghs

like “how did mad-dog manage to get you?” 

“are you sure you’re not being held against your will?”

bottom line is, your boyfriend is not happy 

he will try to prevent you from even being in his captain’s line of sight

he’ll step in front of you or turn around and go another way 

when oikawa approached you after the game, strategically waiting for your boyfriend to go get his things so he’d have more time to talk to you, you knew it was only a matter of time before you were snatched away by a growling kyoutani. 

his plan kind of work, considering the conversation lasted about thirty seconds? longer than it normally did. the captain was leaning against the wall next to you, his arm above your head as you looked up at him, completely unaffected by his charming eyes––you appreciated the effort he took to talk to you, but you knew he was just a natural flirt at heart. 

he was mid-sentence when your boyfriend came storming up to the two of you and grabbed your hand, marching you away from the complaining boy. you just laughed and squeezed his hand, “you know i thought you would have gotten tired of doing that by now.” he grumbled in response and you tugged his hand and led him to a quiet corner.

he was looking down at the floor but you put a hand under his chin and made him look you in the eyes, your small smile making him calm down a bit. “you have to stop letting him get to you like this. you know i’d never entertain his flirting––i’m yours.”

he clenched his jaw and nodded, looking to the side when he heard his captain walking by. you turned his head to face you again and surprised him with a kiss and his hands came up to squeeze your waist. he groaned into your mouth and you pulled away to look at him.

“that’s a good way to calm me down.”

you smiled, “oh yeah?”

he nodded, “yeah” and put his lips back on yours. 

osamu:

so atsumu may or may not have had a crush on you

and yes you were dating his brother

no he wasn’t going to steal you (though he thinks he absolutely could if he wanted to), he respects you both and your relationship

and he loves how happy you make his brother

...but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t check you out sometimes or harmlessly flirt with you (he can’t help it, have you seen yourself?)

osamu would catch his brother ogling at you all the time, or hanging around in the room when you’re over for no reason

he’d usually just smack his head and tell him to fuck off

or he’d take a different approach––

you were really trying to pay attention to atsumu’s story, or whatever it is he was saying, but you couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of osamu’s lips on your neck, and his hand running along your thigh, the other gripping your waist as you sat practically on him on the couch. 

the two of you were spending time together, alone, when atsumu came in, and decided to third-wheel. you didn’t really have a problem with it, but by the way your boyfriend soon pulled you into his lap to distract himself, and most certainly you as well––you could tell he was bothered. 

atsumu trailed off and scratched his neck awkwardly, laughing. “do you guys wanna get a room or something?” he joked and his brother barely lifted his head, hands pulling you even closer. 

“we did get a room, you came in here.”

atsumu rolled his eyes. “so how long are you planning on assaulting y/n’s neck for?” 

osamu lifted his head, annoyance radiating off of him and brought one hand up to tilt your head towards his, his lips grazing yours. “unless you want to see us fuck, you should leave.” 

atsumu blushed but smirked, “i mean...”

osamu glared at him. “get out.”

tendou:

so when you and tendou started dating, you obviously started hanging out with him more, but also ushijima

it’s not like ushijima was expecting to develop feelings for you 

he didn’t want to––he honestly even searched up how to stop a crush from progressing 

he always thought you were nice and good looking but after hanging out with you more, that’s when he realized he liked your personality too and that you were a good person

he waited a little longer before telling tendou––yeah he told him

but tendou had already figured it out, his eyes picking up on the way ushijima was a little more tense or aware of himself when you were around

the way he would smile and blush when you hugged him goodbye

if anything, tendou thought it was cute 

he got you on board with his idea and after you all graduated, you both put the plan in action

ushijima was sat at the edge of the bed, looking at you and his best friend in confusion, “i thought you said my graduation present was in here?”

your boyfriend stood behind you, arms circling around your waist as he peered over your shoulder, his eyes piercing and teasing as he stared at the boy on the bed. “well you see ushi, after you told me about your little crush––which i’m assuming you still have?”

he nodded unashamed, and unblinking as he looked at the two of you and you felt a tingle run down your body. 

tendou went on, “well after that, i figured you might want to have some fun with the two of us,” he kissed your neck teasingly and the brown-haired boy shifted a bit on the bed, clearly itching to touch you. “we both agreed that it was a great idea.” he brought his attention back to your neck and you figured that was your cue to take over.

“so what do you say, ushi?” you sighed softly when tendou sucked a mark onto your sweet spot and you noticed ushijima’s eyes darken. “do you want this graduation present?” 

he licked his lips and scooted forward, his hands squeezing his thighs almost painfully hard. “yes. please–”

[plant-flwrs]

Heyy!! I wish you would write a fic where Fred is lowkey really into Shakespear and Romeo and Juliet and tries to woo the reader cs she’s muggleborn? Idk but it would be so cute!! 🥺

romeo and juliet // fred weasley

masterlist!

summary: Fred reads Romeo and Juliet and can’t help but fall in love

a/n: schools out, so hopefully that means more time for writing! thanks for the request anon i thought it was adorable, hope you like it!!

(2.5k)

At first, it was a secret. Fred had no intention of actually enjoying it. He had simply accepted the book Professor Lupin had lent him, thumbed through it, and stayed up all night to read it by accident.

Maybe it was because Lupin had seen the way Fred looked at you across the class, separated by hidden bloodlines and upbringings. You, with your muggle pens that you smuggled in. You, with your muggle records you used an entire bag to carry onto the train. You, with your muggle magazines that spread through the common room like wildfire. You, with those weird little things called cigarettes that you sold in your third year to the older students. You, with the way the older pureblood witches would sit and ask you to do their hair for them because only you could do all the newest muggle styles. You, with your reluctance to Quidditch but your love for soccer.

Fred was gone, absolutely gone for you. He was even more behind than usual in class because he couldn't help but find you with his eyes, no matter the room you were in or the distance between you both. Remus Lupin, the secret romantic, asked Fred to stay after class.

"Mr. Weasley," Professor Lupin called, feet kicked up on his desk while he levitated a novel wandlessly in front of him. A half-eaten apple rested on a napkin beside a chocolate wrapper and Fred was forced to remember the breakfast he had barely eaten, choosing to instead pretend he hadn't noticed the fact you had only sat a few seats away.

Fred stood in front of Lupin's desk, waiting as the room emptied out and George shot him a wink from the doorway.

"Yes, Professor?" Fred rocked on his feet, hands stuffed in the pockets of his robe. He tried not to wonder if you had noticed that he had been called behind, or if you had noticed him at all. He vaguely registered that this might what his brother would call 'pathetic'.

"You never turned in that essay on wandless defenses," Lupin said slowly, the book moving to rest on his desk as he moved his feet to the ground.

Fred was quiet, biting the inside of his cheek as he couldn't seem to recall the last time a teacher had bothered to talk to him about his assignments instead of deeming him a 'lost cause' or a student who 'simply wouldn't apply themselves'.

Professor Lupin sighed, moving again to stand. Fred thought he caught a flash of pain on the professor's face, perhaps a wince as he stood, but the moment was gone before Lupin was giving Fred a calculating and sympathetic glance.

"Do you need an extension?" Remus offered, leaning his hip against the desk and inclining his head to show Fred the importance of this offering.

"I'd appreciate that, Professor," Fred admitted.

They were silent again, Remus still looking at Fred like he was something to figure out. Remus shifted, eyes dropped to his desk and lips lifting.

"What's got you so preoccupied?"

Fred was blushing before he could think of a lie, and then he realized he didn't want to lie. He hadn't even told George about his crush on you- no doubt it was obvious. Fred had had flings and crushes on loads of girls, all fun and easy, but this felt heavier. He didn't want to have a fling with you.

"I guess-" Fred sighed, removing his hands from his robes and wiping them on his trousers, "I've just been distracted recently. A lot on my mind."

"Ah," Remus smiled fondly, nodding slowly.

A book began to move from a pile in the corner, elegantly and easily avoiding the tall stacks of clutter and various lumps of papers to levitate to Fred. Fred reached out for it, moving it in his hand to read the cover. Romeo and Juliet.

"I'll make you a deal, Fred," Professor Lupin said, his voice sounding so mischievous that Fred was surprised he hadn't become ten years younger right in front of him. "You can either write the essay on wandless defenses, or you can read that and write an essay on 'Romeo and Juliet'."

Fred thumbed through the book, eyebrows furrowed. He had never liked reading, most of the books at the Burrow belonged to Bill, Percy, or his father. He was pretty sure that George would find Fred reading Shakespeare to be just as funny as the time they released Cornish Pixies in the Slytherin changing rooms.

"Yeah, alright."

Fred managed to eat dinner that night, with you safely at the opposite end of the table. The curtains to his fourposter had been closed for hours and the light from his wand had been steadily bright for just as long. He had gone from laying on his back, head propped up beneath his arms, to resting his back against the headboard, to sitting upright in the center of his bed, head propped on his fist, to laying on his stomach, to laying on his back again with his head at the foot of his bed, and soon enough, the sun was flooding through a crack in the curtains. He had just finished Romeo and Juliet when he heard the showers starting.

"Lupin!"

Remus stopped and watched Fred catch up to him. He looked tired and simultaneously wide awake, his hair was a mess, and Remus was almost certain that he was wearing his pajama pants beneath his school robes.

"Mr. Weasley," Remus said cordially, continuing his walk to the greenhouse.

"I wanted to talk to you about that book you lent me-"

"Oh, you can keep it, if you'd like. I've read it dozens of times."

Fred hesitated, a wide smile spreading over his face, "Oh, thanks, Professor! It's just, I wanted to tell you I really liked it."

"You've finished it, then?" Remus asked with an impressed smile.

"Read it last night," Fred admitted, somewhat embarrassed.

"I look forward to the essay, then," Lupin said with a kind smile and a nod, turning into the greenhouses and leaving Fred in the corridor.

Inside his robes, he felt the weight of the tiny book against his chest. He kept it in a pocket there, fingers itching to hold it and read it again.

He couldn't help the roaring thoughts in his head. The idea that you were his Juliet, that you and he could find a hidden love, just for you two, amongst your external differences. He was oddly disappointed by the ending and decided he might not completely finish the book if he read it again, perhaps pretend it ended differently. He leaned his back against the stone wall behind him, fighting a blushing smile from his face.

So, Fred loved Shakespeare in secret. He loved reading in secret. He loved the weight of the book in his hands in secret. He loved the words and the phrases in secret. He loved the way it made him think in secret. He loved you in secret. He loved in secret.

Until you started dating Thomas Meadowbrooke. Thomas was a Ravenclaw, wickedly smart, handsome, kind, and the victim of many of the Weasley twins' pranks for a while. George didn't directly ask Fred why they were suddenly pranking this one boy so relentlessly all of a sudden, but he didn't need to.

Thomas wore blazers with patches on the elbows and combed his silky hair down the middle. He always had a flower in his coat pocket to give to you and he always carried a book of poetry with him. He was sensitive and wistful in all the ways girls loved, including you.

You thought Thomas was painfully boring. He would fawn over you in the most annoying ways, giving you poems that he wrote (horrendously awful, they were) and quoting lines from old and boring books to you. He didn't listen to Joan Jett or Janis Joplin and he cringed when you played your records. He suggested Bach or Debussy instead. He was boring.

You had only agreed to go out with him because he asked. Thomas Meadowbrooke may have been able to put a cornish pixie to sleep just by talking to it, but he was undeniably handsome. Well, he was more handsome before he had fallen victim to a particularly entertaining Weasley twin prank that turned his hair gelled and spiked up for a few days.

You broke up with Thomas soon after. He took it well, saying it gave him fuel to finish some poetry he hadn't been inspired enough for before.

Remus heard this gossip quite excitedly.

"She did, did she?" Remus tilted his head, a coy smirk on his lips.

The smell of fertilizer was strong, but he learned not to mind it as he watched the merry witch digging in various pots.

"He was quite heartbroken, the poor thing. Filius said that when he did routine bed checks, he could hear Thomas crying for weeks!" Professor Sprout sighed, patting down the soil and checking for weeds.

"Teen romance is always quite fickle," Remus commented, following Pomona as she moved to the next pot.

"Says you!" Pomona playfully scolded Remus, her red cheeks filling as she smiled.

Remus chuckled, thinking back to Sirius who would sneak into his office later to distract him from grading papers.

"You know, Pomona," Remus said in that voice of his, the one that got Sprout to drop her trowel and lean in close to hear the latest gossip. "I think Fred Weasley's got a bit of a crush on Y/n."

Pomona gasped, dirty hand flying to cover her mouth. She paused, scrunching up her face and sticking her tongue out to spit out the clump of dirt.

"He hasn't!" she continued, not minding Remus' amused smile and the clean rag he offered her to wipe her hands.

"He's always staring at her," Remus said, thinking on it. "I reckon he's quite the secret romantic."

Pomona cooed and awed as she continued to tend to her plants, she and Remus trading anymore gossip that they could think of.

The weather changed at quite a convenient time for Fred. With the slightly warm but still a bit chilled fall weather, Fred could dawn his lighter coats. His lighter coats that happened to have wonderfully shaped pockets on the inside, just the right size for a book.

Fred wondered if you had gone out with Thomas because Ravenclaw book nerds were your type, or if you had broken up with him because Ravenclaw book nerds weren't your type. Fred had spent almost all of the warm weather contemplating how he was going to continue to live if he was determined to remain secretly in love with you. By fall he had figured it out.

Fred wasn't going to hide anything, not the books he had recently begun to love, or the way he loved so strongly. He wasn't going to miss meals because you were so distracting. He wasn't going to suffocate under his crush on you.

It was a beautiful day. George was up in the dorms with Lee working on a prank and Fred had decided to take a walk down to the Black Lake. His lighter coat was a bit heavier because of the book in the pocket, and Fred pushed his hair out of his eyes as he looked down at the ground to avoid stepping on tree roots. He found a nice spot beneath a tree, resting against the trunk and reading.

"Hey, Fred," a voice called, coming closer as they easily avoided the maze of tree roots.

Fred looked up to see you, in those perfect muggle clothes you wore any chance you could, hair styled in that wonderful muggle way, one of those muggle cigarettes tucked behind your ear, walking towards him.

"Hey," he responded, surprised by how easy his voice sounded.

"Have you been reviewing at all for Lupin's?" You sat next to Fred like it was the easiest thing in the world, brushing your shoulder against his.

"No, not really," Fred closed his book with his thumb tucked between the pages saving his spot.

"Mmm," you hummed, leaning your head back against the tree and closing your eyes. "What're you reading?"

"Romeo and Juliet," Fred replied, looking at your profile while he had the chance.

"Didn't think that was your thing," you said playfully, opening one eye to catch Fred looking at you.

He flushed and turned his gaze to his hands in his lap. "Me neither," he admitted, swallowing.

"I always liked ‘The Taming of the Shrew’, personally."

Fred smiled to himself, because of course, you had also read Shakespeare, and of course, you would have a cool favorite.

"I like that one, too," Fred said lamely, enjoying the way you were smiling at him.

By winter, Fred had devised a plan. It was perfect, more perfect than any prank he had created or any Zonko's product he had bought. He would die if he kept all this love to himself, so he decided all he needed was one kiss.

The Yule Ball was in full swing, the classical and slow music long forgotten as everyone moved to the dance floor and rocked to the loud and fast rhythm. Fred had seen you when you first arrived, noticing with glee that you were alone, and hadn't lost sight of you since. He had removed himself from the heavily crowded dance floor, stumbling to the table with the juice he and George had spiked hours earlier. He loosened the collar of his robes and pushed his already disheveled hair out of his face.

You watched Fred move through the crowd like a tornado, a mass of energy that you felt required to look at and admire. He strode to the table, a quiet and self-satisfied smirk on his lips as he took a long sip of punch.

Fred caught you staring at him with pleasant unexpectedness. You looked just as beautiful as you did when the night started, skin glowing and everything dawned upon you with your magical muggle-ness. Fred put his cup down, a comfortable pink hue warming his cheeks, and approached you. He touched his hand to yours.

"Hey, Fred," you said with an entertained smirk, glancing down at his hand on yours.

"I need you to do me a favor," he slurred, voice easy and breath warm as it landed on your skin.

"What kind of favor?"

"I need you to kiss me," Fred pulled his mouth away from your ear, looking to your face.

He didn't have much of an opportunity, though, before your lips were on his and you stole his breath. He tasted of the spiked punch and his hands were trembling and careful as they rested on your waist. You grabbed a fistful of his robes, pulling him close to you with urgency.

He pulled away, lips red and swollen, with his eyes still closed.

"I need you to do me a favor," you said, mouth hovering above his.

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me," you whispered, just loud enough for Fred to hear.

He listened, and held onto you with less trembling and more confidence as you kissed for the second time.

[omnitf]

Credit for this image goes to Maxx114. If you enjoy this, please consider donating to my ko-fi or joining my patreon to help fund my writing. More money means more free time to write these stories. :D Thanks!

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Trapped

Ever wonder how I got this big? It wasn’t steroids, if that’s what you think. Everyone thinks that. I always test clean, though. My body won’t take any drugs that aren’t medically necessary.

Why’d I word it that way? I can’t ... really say. My tongue will get tied. No literally, I mean my tongue will try to tie itself up. The minute I say something my body doesn’t like, my tongue will—

...

...

...

You can see what I mean.

I don’t know how it happened. I just ... can’t control it anymore. I’m trapped. No, literally, I’m tra—uhhhhhhhhh.....

...

...

...

Fuck.... I ... how long was I out?

Look, let’s just say my body is my top priority, okay? I treat it right so it’ll treat me right.

You’ve heard of muscle memory and all that stuff, right? Muscles learn, and so does your body. It does things you don’t even have to think about after a while. It just ... knows that’s what it’s supposed to do.

Some folks deal with their bodies eating themselves, immune system attacking healthy cells and going out of control for no reason. My body’s sort of the opposite. It’s gone into hyper mode to make me as healthy as I can. Every impulse, every step, day in and day out, my body’s health comes first.

...

Fuck, that felt good....

Sorry, call it ... a reward for compliance.

When I work out, what I eat, when I sleep, who I hang out with, all of it is centered around my body and the lifestyle it needs to keep this shape.

Fun fact. Did you know that the brain isn’t actually a muscle? While it is an organ, the majority of its composition and cellular structure has nothing to do with any kind of physical work in the sense that the arms or the legs might. The only muscle tissue involved in the brain has to do with the blood vessels that control where the blood flows, so your brain can get enough oxygen to keep functioning. And that muscle tissue functions as an insulator and, I guess you could say a sort of control valve to the blood vessels to regulate the flow.

Yeah, it’s pretty interesting. I’m what you might call a muscle man. In the traditional sense of the word, yes, I’m talking about my muscles, but I kind of mean it on a deeper sense. For me, it’s more than just dedication to my craft. I have to build my muscles. I have to get stronger. I have to be the very best my body can be. It’s not a choice for me anymore.

No, I mean it literally. I have to do it. I’ve lost so much because of this. And I may get some of it back with the recent success I’ve been having in the bodybuilding community, but it’s never going to be the same. I’m never going to be the same.

I’m never going back to the old me.

...

...

...

Sorry, I, uh ... zoned out again there. Another one of those rewards I mentioned.

The secret to my success? It’s all in my head. I mean, it started in my traps. You see how huge these things are. And then it was sort of like a rebellion at that point. An itch, a nag. I started building to level things out, get more even. But when I was satisfied, my body wasn’t. That’s when I started noticing ... things. Things that weren’t quite right.

I was sore every day, even on my rest days. And it got harder and harder to do the things I used to to relax. Going to the movies, eating at buffets, gaming in my off hours from work. I used to have a cheap ramen diet. That was one of the first things to go. Things were sort of subtle at first. My eyes would be drawn to supplements, health foods, all the things my budget wouldn’t necessarily allow me to enjoy, but I lingered over them anyway. I’d sit there and stare at them for five, then, fifteen minutes. And I knew I couldn’t afford to get these things, but ... I didn’t move either.

It started turning into a real problem that I didn’t understand, so I finally gave in and just bought one of the darned things. And just like that, I felt free to move again. There was even a warm feeling in my chest. You know, like the kind where you just did something really nice, and you feel good for it?

Eventually, there were some things that I couldn’t push myself to do anymore, though. Once the supplement was gone, the urge was back again, that strange stillness, all while I continued to ache. I was getting some great definition, but ... I was concerned. I didn’t want to go to the doctor. Didn’t have enough to cover a visit. I was barely scraping by with my other work.

It was work, then home exercises, then shower, then meals and supplements, bed, repeat. I was as surprised as my friends and family when I logged into my social media accounts one day and saw my tags had changed. Vacant, empty stares were in every picture of my increasingly muscular body.

And I never remembered taking any of them.

I was scared, but ... I don’t know whether it was the shock or what, but ... I didn’t feel it so badly. Kind of like a jump scare, you know? There in a moment, gone the next. Instead, my heart started pounding. I felt that itch. My usual patch of floor was waiting.

...

And then I was working out.

I don’t mean I chose to. I mean ....

You know what it’s like to go through an out of body experience, right?

It was something like that, except I was still in the car, so to speak. I just ... watched.

It was the freakiest thing I had ever experienced.

And I knew I needed to see a doctor then. This wasn’t normal behavior.

I met with the doctor first, then got forwarded to a psychiatrist.

You can guess where this is going. I was given pills, told to take them, report back on how I feel in the next couple of weeks after they’ve had time to build up in my system.

I tried. I really did.

It didn’t help.

I don’t know whether they were placebos or something else, but things just ... kept going the same way. My muscles got bigger. And I got ... smaller, I guess. Not physically, but mentally. I was literally losing control of my own body. It wasn’t hurting anyone directly, but it frightened me.

I tried everything. Hypnosis, self-help books. Heck, I even checked into a psych ward to see if they could figure out what was going on with me. Nothing worked.

When I did the things myself, doctors say I was being rewarded. Dopamine and all those other hormones and chemicals shot through the roof, well beyond the norm for the average male. When I resisted, however, something ... different was discovered.

In a very real way, it was like coordinated mutiny. Bloodflow in my brain literally shifted as some of the valves tightened and others opened full blast. And as they did, I found myself being the passenger again. When I tried to eat certain foods, my limbs would go limp. I literally couldn’t even feel them. If I tried to go somewhere that wasn’t conducive to my body’s welfare, I would find myself suddenly unable to progress past a certain point. Or worse yet, jogging right past and not stopping.

I couldn’t type or write certain words or phrases. And the more I grew, the ... fuzzier things became, I suppose. When I hunch forward like this, it’s not so much a habit or for comfort as a ... friendly reminder. Kind of like My Big Fat Greek Wedding. The neck controls wherever the head turns.

I’m a pris—

...

I’m a pri—

...

I’m a pris—uhhhhhhhhhhhhh....

I’m a pristine example of the fruits of hard work and discipline.

It is my intention to continue to grow and exceed expectations in competition. It’s just a matter of listening to your body. When you listen to your body, you are rewarded by your body.

...

Yes, everything is fine now. You could say we’ve come to an understanding since then. I can honestly say this is the most pleasurable life I could ever hope to have. Some things have changed, but I’m happy. And happiness is what matters in the end. I do what my body wants, and it rewards me, just like everyone else. Now, I hope you’ll excuse me, but it’s time for me to get back to work. My body wants to break its record today at the squat rack.

Don’t worry, I just cry randomly sometimes. Don’t know if it’s something in the air or just a thing, but I live with it. Thanks again for the interview. Goodbye!

...

...

...

A behemoth of muscle and strength sits on a bench before a mirror and stares at his reflection as he reaches for two massive dumbbells.

Now, then. What do we need?

A low groan fills the room as the eyes lose focus and the tears cease to fall. Shoulders rise and fall, prompting the trapezius muscles to almost massage his neck with his deltoids and pectorals. The lips smack. The tongue lolls and lashes momentarily in the mouth before finally settling limply, meekly against the base. The breathing grows deep and steady as his cheeks flush in euphoria and the weights clank with the beginnings of reps.

WE ... NEED ... TO WORK OUT....

The twitch of a smirk pulls at his face in the mirror.

Good boy.

The eyes roll briefly.

You won’t be talking about us like that again, will you?

Another groan. The eyes grow dull in their gaze as the body continues to rep.

NO ... SIR....

Good boy. Listen to your body....

OBEY MY BODY....