#I’d rather have fun and write whatever and have no one give a shit

[doctorweebmd]

I was thinking about this the other day and wondering why it’s become so much less fun to write for BNHA and I think it’s because… I’ve written too much?

Like being a one-off author was fine and fun and novel and people were so cool and supportive, but now I’ve got multiple long fics and people have started treating me like someone that “creates content” rather than someone who is writing for fun. And I’ve shot myself in the foot by continuing to write long-fic and putting my heart and soul into them and it’s like never enough, people just expect more and more and more and I want to keep giving and keep doing better but no matter what I write it’s just not ENOUGH

And like… this started a little after I finished Zero Sum Game but like… people have started forming “opinions” that they share openly about “me” - I can’t stand going into fandom space and seeing people say they can’t read anything I write, or they don’t like me as an author, openly ranking my works, saying xyz is overrated or mention me by name in shipping discourse or send me hate mail or update requests or just straight up telling me they’re not going to read what I write anymore… and these people don’t know me!!! I’m just an empty space to them!!! Just a machine that pumps out thousands on thousands of words to just look at an forget about instantly!!!!!!!!

Where do people get off honestly. Is it like this everywhere or is it just BNHA? Is it because it’s so popular that the community has broken down completely? Sincerely what the fuck how can anyone treat writers like this…

[beom-pyu]

truth or drink! (my ex + my boyfriend): choi beomgyu + kang taehyun

part 2 of the truth or drink series! i'm addicited to writing these omg

other parts: yeonjun "couples edition" soobin "engaged edition" kai "blind date edition"

slightly nsfw! (minors dni.)

welcome to truth or drink! y/n’s ex and boyfriend will ask each other a set of random questions. they can either answer the question or take a shot.

“hi! i’m beomgyu, y/n’s ex.”

“i’m taehyun, y/n’s current partner.”

YOU: why did you agree to come here today?

BG: “you told me there would be free drinks so…”

YOU: “i knew you were gonna say that.”

BG: “also because it sounded interesting! i’ve known both of them for a few years, so i think it’ll be fun.”

YOU: and taehyun?

TH: “i know you’ve changed a lot since you were with beomgyu and i’m curious to see how things worked between you guys so i know what not to do.”

BG: “was that shade?”

YOU: “i’m pretty sure that was shade.”

taehyun just smiles and leans back in his seat.

how long have you dated, or have been dating y/n?

BG: “close to two years.”

TH: “five months.”

what’s the relationship between you guys?

TH: “i think we’re pretty civil? not as close as we used to be, but that happened kind of naturally.”

BG: “yeah, we hung out every now and then before i moved to a different city. i’d definitely say we’re friends, right?”

TH: “almost-friends.”

BG: “i’ll take it.”

shall we start?

BG: “wait, i’m gonna need a shot to get through this.”

TH: “cheers.”

taehyun pulls a card and immediately flips it back over.

BG: “you have to read it!”

TH: “anything but this one, god.”

BG: “you have to take five shots if you don’t read it.”

taehyun squints, but gives in anyways.

TAEHYUN: what would it take to have a threesome with us?

BG: “maybe like $15 and a big mac combo?”

YOU: “how do you feel about that, taehyun?”

TH: “immediately no.”

BG: have you ever been jealous of me?

TH: “i’ll be honest. i used to be a little jealous.”

BG: “of me? i’m surprised.”

TH: “you guys were still close after your break up, so it felt a little weird when we started dating.”

YOU: “this is news to me too.”

TH: “it was more so my own insecurities rather than jealousy, really.”

BG: “no, i’m gonna hold on to this forever. the kang taehyun was jealous of me!”

TH: “okay, moving on.”

TH: what’s something you taught them in bed that i’m benefitting from?

BG: “oh! i definitely taught them how to deep throat. it was rough in the beginning.”

YOU: “i’m still embarrassed.”

TH: “don’t worry baby, you’re doing great.”

BG: “yea, thanks to me!”

BG: why do you think i wasn’t a good match for my ex?

TH: “you guys are polar opposites. your personalities clash too much.”

BG: “yeah, i’d agree with that."

TH: "also you're too soft."

BG: "i'm not soft!"

YOU: "you're a little soft."

BG: "are you guys like teaming up on me or something?"

taehyun shrugs and you giggle under your breath.

TH: why do you think your ex likes me?

BG: “you got your shit together, man. like, you have the soul of a 45-year-old, i’m not joking.”

TH: “i’m gonna take that as a compliment...?"

BG: "whatever makes you happy."

BG: how have i affected your partner’s life, for better or for worse?

TH: “hm... i feel like you taught them a lot of life lessons. you guys dated when you were, what.. 19, 20?”

BG: “yeah, we were both really young, so i think we learned a lot from each other.”

you nod at the camera with a little smile and a thumbs up.

TH: did you ever hook up with my partner after we started dating?

BG: “nope. i don’t do shit like that.”

YOU: “yup. i’m completely satisfied with taehyun in bed.”

BG: “swiftly moving on!”

BG: have you two come close to breaking up? if so, what happened?

TH: “pass me the bottle.”

YOU: “no, no, go ahead. answer the question.”

TH: “okay, we broke up after the first two weeks, but we got back together the next day.”

BG: “i need the details, you can’t just leave it at that.”

TH: “i wanted to focus on grad school and i thought i couldn’t make time for a relationship, but i realized i couldn’t lose y/n, so we worked things out.”

BG: "okay romeo and juliet."

YOU: "that's not even how the story goes."

BG: "it's up for interpretation."

TH: is there any part of you that’s not over the breakup? any regrets?

BG: “our friendship definitely took a hit after breaking up and i really regret losing them as an important person in my life. i think i was very immature and didn’t really know exactly what i wanted at the time, so i took my emotions out on them. i was trying to pursue a relationship while still trying to figure myself out.”

YOU: “i think i was the same way. you were my first serious relationship, so it was pretty rocky and i definitely have a lot of regrets, but we both grew from it.”

BG: has my ex ever talked about our sex life with you. if so, what did they say about me?

taehyun swiftly fills up his shot glass.

BG: “what did you say?!”

YOU: “too much, apparently.”

taehyun nods in agreement before downing the shot.

TH: on a scale of one to ten, how good was the sex?

BG: “uhhh…”

beomgyu reaches for the bottle.

YOU: “i didn’t think it was that bad, oh my god.”

TH: “well, i can say you’ve definitely improved, then.”

BG: “i’m taking another shot.”

BG: who’s hotter, you or me?

TH: “you.”

BG: “i was gonna say you’re hotter!”

TH: “well, let’s ask the audience.”

they both turn towards you with expectant looks.

...

YOU: “am i allowed to take a shot too?”

TH: do you think i’m a good match for my partner, and can you ever see us in a long-term relationship?

BG: “you guys are probably one of the healthiest couples i know. it’s actually kind of freaky how well you guys go together.”

you can’t help the little smile that forms on your

face. 

BG: “you definitely show y/n how much they deserve to be loved and i can see that you are both really happy. tae-y/n for life!”

TH: “that was actually kind of sweet. i wasn’t expecting this.”

BG: “i can be a cutie pie when i want to be.”

TH: “okay, that’s enough of that.”

how were the questions?

BG: "honestly a little awkward, but they weren't as bad as i thought they were gonna be."

taehyun silently nods in agreement.

do you think you're officially friends after this?

TH: "not really—"

BG: "yes—wow..."

TH: "we're cool, though."

BG: "hey, no hard feelings. wait, producer, can i take this bottle home? really? thank you!"

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

Hello! I love your writing style!! It's just so on spot, and I wanted to request some headcanons for the mercs with a gn! reader who doesn't really speak but they can communicate through sign language or paper for whatever reason, the thing is, the Merc and the reader find themselves in a really critical situation or just an incredibly intimate and comforting moment, blurting out for the first time something serious or stupid like "y'know when I first met you I thought you're really stupid...(affectionate)" IDK OF THIS MAKES SENSE OR IT'S WEIRD SORRY LMAOOA

(if you don't wanna do all of them you could do your faves & I hope there's a chance to add miss Pauling if possible😔) but anyway, too much to read,, sorry again!! Take care♡♡

Y/N with communication anxiety admits their feelings to the Mercs

Scout:

- He’s very chill and nonchalant about it. Although have fun hearing him talk his mouth off all the time and rant about random things. He takes a liking to you pretty quickly when you join his team and leans on the wall next to you tossing his ball from hand to hand and blowing bubbles with his bubblegum. “Heeey there slugger. What‘s your name? You look like a total nightmare today.” He says. When you don’t answer him and nervously gesture to your throat that you’d prefer staying quiet he pauses for a moment. “Not a talker, eh?”

- Literally will not shut the fuck up. Will talk to you for hours on end. Venting or just saying plain stupid shit to impress you. You find his personality rather charming and in exchange he seems to appreciate your content silence and preference to listen to him. Something that the other Mercs don’t really do.

- “Y’know, Y/N. I know this sounds fuckin’ weird but like— Thank you I guess? For listening to my nonstop ramblin. I mean.. Not many people stop to consider what I have to say.” He says this to you while you sit in Tuefort’s gazebo with him on a cold desert morning. “They just think i’m annoying I guess..”

- “Annoying yet charming and handsome nonetheless, Scout.” You finally work up the courage to mutter to him. Your voice is rasp and you smile.

- Scout pauses, then looks at you in complete disbelief. Did Y/N just speak? Atop of that it seemed to have been a flirtatious compliment. He takes a moment to process the situation and then sort of chortles. He runs his hand through his own hair and acts chill about it but on the inside he’s absolutely mad with feelings. “Wow.. That’s.. Yeah, OK.” he says, failing to find words. Face flushed with heat.

——————————————————————

Soldier:

- He was the first person to approach you in the base. Like ever. When he found out there was a new mercenary he needed to lay the ground rules to them as soon as possible. Instead of giving him a “Yes sir!” like he had hoped, you stared at him blankly. (I’d probably be rethinking this job offer.) Wondering why you hadn’t spoken up to him, he got close to your face and looked up and down you. “I’D LIKE TO HEAR A YES SIR PRIVATE!” Still nothing. You were too busy admiring his muscles. You’ve just met this man but you’d let him throw you off a bridge in an instant.

- When he still doesn’t get a response, he backs up and angrily fixes his helmet “Insubordination I see.. Heh. Okay.” He mutters and prepares to plan a punishment later. You are oddly charmed by his stupid greeting and you head to the nearest chalkboard and explain in writing why you can’t respond back. He lifts his helmet up to read it and then looks back at you. (The other Mercs are kind of stunned that Soldier even knows how to read in the first place.)

- “Ah, I see.. Strange tactical decision but not unheard of.” He responds, then straightens his posture apologetically. You two become close friends from then on. Medic has to explain to him later that you just have “mild” communication issues. For the first few months of your guys’ friendship the dumbass thought you were doing this to gain an upper hand.

- After a match one day you catch him smoking a cigar on a huge pile of bodies in the pouring rain. You step up the horrific mess of blood and guts to meet him. He doesn’t look too happy. Although Soldier never really opens up about anything to anyone. He’s way too deep in his little military fantasy. You sit next to him and put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Whatever the hell he was upset about you knew it wasn’t good. After a bout of silence you whisper “You’re a wonderful strategist, Soldier.”

- You can’t see his expression underneath his helmet but you can certainly hear his heartbeat quicken because of how close you are. His mouth nearly twitches up into a grin. He doesn’t respond to your compliment but he’s relieved to hear one nonetheless after all this time.

————————————————————————-

Demoman:

- You find him making bombs in his quarters when you meet him for the first time. He doesn’t look too friendly but as you decide to walk by he immediately calls out to you. “Ayeee! New blood. Get ova’ here a second. Wee lil monster.” He beckons his hand aggressively.

- You walk over to him and he puts an arm around your shoulder. Patting you reassuringly. “Aye.. So It’s not gonna be easy livin’ here just so you know. We’re all a wee bit mad. Don’t take the others’ too seriously when dey bother ye.” He takes the responsibility upon himself to let you know as an older Merc it’ll be okay. He slaps you friendlily on the back after his conversation and sends you off. He doesn’t really question the fact you aren’t speaking.

- You immediately take a liking to him though. Mainly due to his explosive personality on the battlefield (pun intended.) He gets horribly drunk before doing any Mercenary work and acts goofy the entire time. His charisma pulls you in like a magnet. You want to speak to him but it’s so hard…

- After months of simping for this guy from afar, you slip a note under his doorframe professing your feelings to him. You hear him pick it up. The next thing you know, he barges into your quarters the next day after a match and grabs you by the shoulders. Asking you in complete disbelief if you actually meant everything you said.

- “Yes, I just think you’re really attractive!” you blurt out instinctively. Alarmed by his behavior. He lets you go; having heard your voice for the first time. The shock of the revelation and the sound of your voice, atop of the alcohol seemed to have done it for him. He immediately kissed you on the lips without warning. You’re the first person in years to say this to him.

- “I… Er.. “ He walks away after that. You have no fucking idea what the hell even happened.

——————————————————————-

Engineer:

- You hear the sweet melody of a guitar echoing off the intel room. Despite its clearly southern origins you are drawn to it. As if it was some sort of hypnosis. You’d recognize that melody anywhere. The year was 1967 and you were no stranger to your own childhood. That was clearly “El Paso.” You’ve heard that song on the radio a million times already. But somehow this was different. The soothing voice it came from was singing it as if it were his own lullaby to the multiple sentries around him. The ones of his own creation of course.

- Next thing you know, you’re sitting next to him on the intel desk, sleepy as all shit from the melody and the white noise from the patrolling sentries. You wake up an hour later to embarrassingly finding yourself on this stranger’s lap. You want to profusely apologize to your colleague but nothing comes out.

- He doesn’t even seem phased. For some reason he was stroking your hair as he gazed off into the distance.

- Ever since that day you became close to Engineer. He was completely unbothered by your communication issues and actually kind of appreciates the silent times he has with you. He rarely speaks to you while hanging out either, out of respect for your boundaries. Only the occasional conversation here and there. You are both existing together.

- “I love you, Dell.” You finally say, after a night of drinking in his workshop with him. You are perched up on his lap as always and he’s petting you. At first he misunderstands this as platonic. “Aww..” He cooes. “No, I mean it. I’ve always found you so —“ You bury your face into his chest. Muffling the last part of your sentence “Safe to be around.”

- He’s unbelievably boiling with hormones on the inside. He tips his hardhat forward to hide his flustered face. Holding his own chin. “Dammit..” He mutters in an incredibly positive way. You’ve successfully won this man over.

—————————————————————-

Heavy:

- He’s already met you before the job. Accidentally caught you in a coffee shop in Tuefort being yelled at by an ableist Karen and he took it upon himself to nearly strangle her for you. Heavy doesn’t tolerate behavior like that. You need to insult people with style or nothing at all. Don’t pick on their disabilities. Aim for the most stereotypical high school bully route possible. Come on, you gotta be an asshole skillfully.

- He could tell you were different the moment you joined the team. But that’s fine. He was quite misunderstood too. Heavy wasn’t a dumb himbo. He was a GIANT man with a lust for blood. Although he enjoyed chaos as much as any Merc, Heavy also valued silence. Something that you provided him with your presence. You catch him deliberately body shielding you on the battlefield because he knows this communication issue didn’t come out of nowhere. You’re distressed. This was his subtle attempt to let you know he cared.

- He catches you unable to sleep one night. He opens your door and notes the fact your light was still visible through the cracks. You’re sitting on the bed in an uncomfortable fetal position.

- “Little thing will not sleep?” He asks you. Although he has his typical hardened expression the question suggested he cared. “Hm. Stay here. Heavy will grab bedtime story.”

- He reads you an old Russian classic. Although depending on who you are you might not understand it. Regardless the soft sounds are alluring sleep. It’s clear he’s read people stories many times before because his whispers hit all the right places.

- You mumble to him a thank you. Which makes him pause mid sentence. He doesn’t know how the ever living fuck to process what he’s feeling right now. It’s a mixture of affection and the pang of what is typically the start of romantic attraction. Ew gross he’s feeling soft and fuzzy emotions.

- You pull him under the covers with you eagerly. He grumpily obeys but he doesn’t know why. He nearly destroys your bed with his weight and has to put you on his chest to cuddle. You can hear the sound of the ubercharged baboon heart inside him. Still pumping away and working to keep him going. You slip into slumber easily.

————————————————————————

Pyro:

- Talking is overrated anyway. Nobody really understands Pyro when they speak under the mask. Trying to say something simple like “There’s a spy behind you.” is often met with a confused expression. When Pyro meets you, it’s when he’s allured by your skills on the battlefield. In their point of view you are a glorious unicorn prancing around a field of pollen. (More like debris from the enemy soldiers’ rockets but that’s besides the point.)

- There are rare moments where Pyro is completely lucid and self aware of the fact they’re a mercenary for hire though. They compliment you on your abilities after a match and it takes you a while to understand but you nod.

- They won’t. stop. complimenting. you. You are dragged to his tea parties and childish shenanigans and you find over time it’s surprisingly pleasant to escape from the bloodshed once and a while. Cuddling sessions ensue as time goes on.

- You catch their face without their suit while they’re getting changed. That is vulnerability that Pyro wasn’t ready for yet. They break down sobbing and self depreciating and you feel heartbroken. Who the hell taught them to hate themselves so fucking much? You’re having a bit of empathy overload right now as they squeal and choke up. Finding no other alternative but to speak blissful things about their appearance and personality. Hearing you speak for the first time makes them cry more. (In an incredibly positive way luckily.)

———————————————————————

Sniper:

- Oh shit. Another person whose super quiet for some reason?! Except your situation is different. You’d like to socialize but it’s difficult. Sniper doesn’t want to socialize and he hates basically everybody. But he has that “grumpy older brother who teases you” energy. He’s well aware you’re younger than the other Mercs and therefore a tad easier on you.

- He’s scoping out a crack in the window when he feels your presence behind him. His shoulders stiffen and that’s how you know he senses you. “Blimey. You’d make a terrible Spy.” he mutters. Bringing his gun away from the hole to put it down and face you. His hypersensitivity to noise is no doubt from being stabbed a million times.

- You wonder how he’s able to tell it’s even you in the first place. He’s possibly grown accustomed to how each Mercenary sounds when they approach his nest. You can smell the scent of strong cologne mixed in with bond fire lingering off him. Couple that with the fact that he’s so unbelievably hot? You came to bring him some morning coffee but you end up setting it down to spontaneously hug him.

- “Wh— fuck.” He growls. Both caught off guard and swaying a bit. Trying to adjust to extra weight. He hesitantly hugs you back. Wondering if you were sick or something and needed soothing. He doesn’t understand why anybody would want this from him. It takes him a minute to put his arms around you and pat you.

- “What’s wrong mate?” he says, in your ear. This man might be giving you a voice kink if you don’t already have one. Holy shit. You don’t want to be humiliated by your own voice in front of him and your lips quiver. Incapable of finding the words you’re thinking of. “You’re cute.” you finally say. In a last ditch effort when no other words came to mind. To say you desperately wanted this man was an understatement.

- You hear him take a sharp breath in. He stifles a groan from the amount of energy you just shot into his godamn stomach. Not only was it a pleasure to hear your voice for the first time but it felt intimate. He was very sensitive to things like this. You swore you could hear this man purring in your ear like a cat. He was evidentially as touch starved as you were.

—————————————————————

Medic:

- No speaking?! Oh! this man has to study you like right fucking now. What a curiosity. He’s never met somebody who had issues speaking like this before. He hates to admit —and won’t admit for that matter — that he might be doing this out of emotion as well. Believe it or not Medic can be an incredibly emotion driven person. Not just for the pleasures of harming people but the unwanted sympathy that comes with being human. He hates the idea he might care for you. Why does he even feel that way? It’s not like you’re different from any other Merc..

- Except you are. You’re you. That’s the problem. You’re lovable in every way and no amount of rumination will ever explain why.

- His first instinct upon discovering this about you is to ask you questions about how bad it is. Obviously quickly realizing how stupid that is — he hands you his clipboard and a fresh piece of paper to communicate. “Do you speak if at all?” “Do you experience this in the presence of certain stressors?” “Did you have traumatic experiences that led to this?” “Is this perhaps a case of selective mutism?”

- You scramble to write down incredibly passive aggressive and sarcastic answers but they are answers nonetheless. He seems pleased with the results. Under normal circumstances you’d hate being treated like a guinea pig but his excited smile was charming. The fact that somebody wanted to understand your situation so badly was a bit riveting. He was hungry for information about the human existence. “Danke!”

- You catch something you’d never suspect in a mad scientist such as himself. While he’s drawing mathematical equations on his chalkboard one night he periodically looks over his shoulder to frown at you while he thinks you’re not paying attention.

- He’s doing a terrible job at hiding his human nature. There was a bout of emotion in his eyes about your health. As much as the doctor tried to remove this from his work, it kept rearing its ugly head in certain situations. “I love you, Doctor.” You tell him.

- SNAP. His fingers break the chalk in half. Just like his crumbling facade. You could see his eye twitch as he accesses ten thousand possible answers he could give you in his mind. “Aheh, could you give me a moment, bitte?” He tells you. Waltzing into the other room. You could hear muffled screaming coming from his bedroom. He regrets taking this job and wished he died in police custody.

———————————————————————-

Spy:

- YES! FINALLY SOMEONE WHO DOESN’T MAKE HIM WANT TO PULL HIS HAIR OUT AND BACKFLIP OFF A CLIFF

- Spy elegantly invites you to his quarters one night after weeks of avoiding you the first time you come here. He pours you some wine and hands you a glass. (adjusting your hand in the process because you’re holding the glass wrong.)

- “Do you know why I brought you here?” He asks. Pacing around the room and lighting himself a cigarette from his disguise kit. In all honesty you have no idea why but the sight of such a handsome older man doing this for you was distracting. “It is your performance as of late. You are throughly calculated I must say.” You couldn’t agree with this, but you wondered if he had some sort of thing for competent people. (Your assumptions are correct.)

- …. “Not to mention quieter than me when I scope out prey.” He mentions. Waving the cigarette between two fingers. He was a Spy and you had no doubt he was trying to read you like a book but having difficulties. He was especially accustomed to having small talk with the other Mercs to better fake their counterparts when disguised as them. You couldn’t help but feel a little flattered over the fact that not even a Spy could properly look through you.

- He looked at you rather frustratingly once he realizes you’re still not speaking. “Not even the slightest bit of speaking. Do you realize how much harder you make my job?” He complains sarcastically. You can’t help but crack a humored grin at this. He isn’t being ableist in this situation, rather he’s angry he can’t psychoanalyze somebody. You knew it was within’ a Spy’s nature to instinctively do this.

- He responded positively to your grin. Moving away and dragging his cigarette. Trying to hide a bit of his own amusement. ��Yes, yes. You find my suffering to be equivalent to the entire circus.” He says. “But in in all honesty your silence is preferred.” Spy moves in and lifts your chin up with his pointer finger.

- “Tu es agréable à côtoyer..” He hisses. His voice sounding like a hungry cat as he draws closer to you. Spy has a very distinct look in his eye. One that basically screams thoughtful and mysterious. You nearly passed out at the unintentionally romantic gesture.

- “Please throw me off a fucking building.” You say.

- “What?”

[grainjew]

Nikaposting Pt 4: Sun God Tropes

This is the fourth of a series of posts about Nika & associated religious practice in the One Piece world. As I write and post the rest of the series, I’ll add links to this header.

Pt 1: Crypto-Religion | Pt 2: Symbology & Syncretism | Pt 3: Joyboy was Shandian

Enormous credit to @oriigami for being my discussion partner through all of this and having a substantial influence on the final product. Check out our ao3 series Joyful for a narrative rather than analytical take on the Nika tradition, and definitely go read her OP blog @kaizokuou-ni-naru for meta and translation fun facts.

-

#JustLittleSunGodThings

So Luffy’s a sun god, or the embodied power of the wishes for one, or whatever. But does he do mythological solar deity things?

Yes actually.

This post is the fourth and last (as of now) in this series, and it’s entirely for fun. I’ll almost certainly miss things as I go down the list here- if you can think of other solar or dawn deity things he gets up to, please add them in the replies!

With no further ado, here is a list of sun god things Luffy has been known to get up to, & which will no doubt inform the mythology developing around him in the One Piece world. (How many people were deifying this guy even before he awakened his devil fruit? Like it was definitely not zero is all I’m saying.)

Getting eaten by snakes

What started this whole list was me turning to @oriigami in the middle of the night after we’d been rewatching Little Garden and trying to make an accurate count of how many times Luffy’s been swallowed whole and going “you know what’s sun god shit? getting eaten by snakes.”

Sun gods are often doing this. Take Apep in Egyptian myth, who tries to devour the sun god Ra every day. Or Rahu, the Hindu shadow planet and serpent, who swallows the sun to cause solar eclipses.

Luffy is also often doing this. The most notable example is of course the Nola Incident in Skypiea arc, but if we expand the definition of snake to include generally snakeish sort of guys, he also gets briefly ate by Kaidou very shortly after awakening, and just now by Mister Sandworm in ch 1110. (And by Kaidou fish-fish fruit equivalency I’d argue we can also count the Little Garden goldfish and the crocodile that ate him as a kid here but obviously that’s more tenuous and mostly just funny.)

Slightly more tenuously as well, there’s Amaterasu of Shinto lore retreating into her cave (a cave is a kind of snake), as well as the Norse wolf that chases the sun Sköll (occasionally merged with Fenrir), the Javanese god (described as an ogre) Batara Kala who eats the sun and moon to cause eclipses, and the alchemical Green Lion that devours the sun.

Storm and sky gods are also often interacting with, killing, and being eaten by snakes, which is less relevant here except that Nami is storm god coded and she also got ate in the Nola Incident. So that’s fun!

Having a chariot that circumnavigates the world

Many sun gods, especially in the Indo-European sphere of traditions, have some sort of chariot or boat that they ride from east to west each day to carry the sun across the sky. Often they have attendants (sometimes dawn and dusk gods; or sometimes these gods have their own chariots or horses as well) to help them with this.

If you want a list of sun vehicles the wikipedia page for solar deities has a whole bunch of them. Have fun.

I think Thousand Sunny speaks for herself on this front: not only is Sunny a ship designed, destined, and dreamed up to herself circumnavigate the world with Luffy as her captain, but she also has the Sun on the front as her figurehead in a manner that does kinda remind me of some depictions I’ve seen of the sun being carried across the sky in such a chariot. Also, she can fly!

Association with royalty

Kings and emperors love to use sun gods to give divine legitimacy to their rule. This is in no way universal (there’s lots of storm gods out there who also do this, just off the top of my head) but take Amaterasu (Shinto), Inti (Incan), Amun-Ra (also Aten) (Egyptian), Sol Invictus (Roman), etc.

Obviously Luffy is going to be King, and is currently an Emperor. But also, he tends to go around and toppling kings and gods and tyrants and vaguely lending legitimacy to whoever is stepping up to the throne in their place. He’s got the Mandate of Heaven (this is a joke mostly but we HAVE all read Loguetown)! And also distributes it to people he likes. Thanks Luffy.

Solar discs, radiate crowns, and beetles

A solar disc is a flat circle, sometimes with rays, that symbolically represents the sun or the sun personified. If you have read pt 2 of this series, you will recognize the Nika symbol in this description.

In the same vein, when applied to a personified depiction of the sun, the solar disc has the habit of becoming a halo or a radiate crown (such as the one worn by the Statue of Liberty - the radiate crown used to be an emperors and sun gods thing and has since become associated with personifications of liberty. So That’s Fun). Obviously Luffy is not in the habit of having either of these representationally, except of course for. The hat that encircles his head in gold.

The final note on symbology I have here is that the Egyptian god of the morning sun, Khepri, is associated with scarabs/dung beetles. A fact that I think known beetle-lover Luffy would appreciate. Get this guy some scarab symbolism stat. Check these bugs out!!!

Bonus: descending into the underworld and eclipse stories

Katabasis, that is, a descent into the underworld, is in no way a sun god exclusive, although solar myths do often involve the sun god, having traveled across the sky by day, needing to find their way through the ocean, the underworld, or some other sort of nether realm to return, overnight, to their morning home in the east. And it’s very fun to look at in the context of Luffy, eclipse myths, and the Marineford saga.

So obviously the Impel Down arc is is a very literal katabasis. It’s Hell, it’s got all the Dante’s Inferno theming, and, like in so many katabases, Luffy descends to the depths in pursuit of some goal, eventually emerging miraculously alive but unsuccessful (see, for a very quick shortlist of katabases of this type, Orpheus & Eurydice, Inanna, and Izanagi & Izanami).

So that’s delightful. But I think it’s even more fun to think about the Marineford saga in general, eventually culminating in the timeskip, as a prototype for an eclipse story.

Solar eclipses, though predictable, are something like a rarer and more frightening form of night, and so their associated myths have a general tendency to involve a more dramatic and/or violent symbolic death of the sun- see, for example, the various devourers of the sun mentioned in the first bullet point of this post.

So, we have the timeskip. The fire goes out. The sun, having descended into the underworld and pushed himself past his own limits, is defeated, disappearing completely from the world for two years. Until- In a way that was, technically, predictable, if you had the correct sphere of knowledge, he returns, miraculously renewed.

I’d incorporate that into my belief system, is all I’m saying.

-

Thank you all for reading! This is all for the series so far, but not, I hope, forever. Many more thoughts to have and webs to weave!

Have a lovely week!

[katherinecrighton]

Nuts and Bolts: Thoughts on Plotting

(Reposting a 2013 post from the Anna Katherine co-tumblr)

Here, have some really straightforward, practical thoughts about plots and plotting. Of which I have way too many, btw.

(Previous nuts and bolts caveats apply, naturally. Assume I have so many thoughts about this stuff because I’ve fucked it up pretty often.)

::::

1. A short story is a single idea, examined or played out. (Movies are also short stories. This is why turning books into movies leads to tears.) Figure out what your “idea” is – or the goal of your story, or the point you’re trying to make, whichever terminology floats your boat – and aim toward that without wavering.

2. Your plot and your characters go hand in hand. They inform each other – if you have one, you have the other. It’s one of the ways that storytelling is the least like real life. The entire plot might as well be a metaphor for whatever issues are going on in the characters lives – but once you realize that, you can use that fact to reverse-engineer your characters or your plot if you’re stuck without one or the other.

3. Frequently problems with plots are just problems with structure. Go find your favorite book (or rather, your favorite book that is most like the kind of book that you’re trying to write) and break it down, section by section, until you’ve got something really basic like “meet-cute” and “things go bad” and shit like that. Then see if you can’t just drape your plot right on over that structure like a brand new Sunday suit.

4. It’s okay to borrow structures. It’s okay to borrow stories, for that matter. Plots can come from a lot of places. “Write what you know” clearly meant “steal every anecdote in England” to Chaucer, and he became the father of English literature, so. 

5. Middle sections of books are terrible. They just are. Everyone wants to give up. This is the number one reason to have an outline or at least a game plan, oh my god. You want to see some hope of a way out, because the middle of a book lasts twice as long as the end of infinity.

6. To that end, once I’ve got some characters and a vague idea of what I want to do with them, I like to put together a list of “adventures”. It’s just stuff I’d like them to do during the course of the story. Sex scenes, car chases, dress fittings, amusing adventures with food, anything like that. Just stuff that I think would be fun to write, and that I know I will need to fill the endless fucking wasteland of the middle of the book.

7. (Those adventures? Should reflect the issues of the characters. Because characters and plots are the same thing. See point 2.)

8. For short stories, have an end point to aim toward, along with a general emotional zone to wallow in. I had a short story whose working title was literally “and then somehow, making out,” which was indeed the end point I was aiming at. The emotional zone I wanted to stay in was fairly light with some emotional dips into heavy stuff for contrast. But mostly what it said on the tin.

9. For books, writing the last scene right at the start of your process is sometimes nice, because it gives you a sort of mark to aim for. (You can always rewrite it later.)

10. Try to capture some really vivid mental pictures of strong scenes. Add those to your “adventure” list, or, better, just write them down. It doesn’t have to be perfect – if you want, just bro it out like you’re describing your favorite badass robot move from Pacific Rim to someone who’s never seen it. At that point there are barely any characters, there’s just the broad sweeps of movement across the page.

+1. Remember: You are the god-king of the book. If worse comes to worst, have a plague of shrews suddenly appear and make your characters deal with it. You can do anything! If you don’t know what to do, do anything. It’s better than doing nothing, and frankly, if it doesn’t work, at least you’ll have written something. You can always delete it tomorrow.

+2. No, seriously, I was writing a book and I could tell there needed to be some kind of big turn in the narrative (because of structure!), and I couldn’t think of what, so I literally wrote down a list of random shit I could make happen to the characters. Just because I could. That list included:

set house on fire airplane explosion hunting accident heatstroke

I was willing to set a house on fire, possibly by having a plane explode on it, just to get my characters doing something for another twenty pages. And the best part was: All I had to do was write the consequences, and add some foreshadowing, and I’d get away scot-free. The perfect crime. GOD-KING, Y'ALL.

[ofmermaidstories]

From your posts so far I feel like you have such a wide variety of understanding complex characters. How do you think you would tackle writing for Todoroki Touya, and have you ever considered any storyline for him? What kind of civilian reader do you think you’d craft for him if so?

beyond a post-canon bonnie and clyde AU, i’ve never really seriously considered a fic for dabbers. 🧐 he’s a fun character in canon, but to me that’s because he’s a walking tragedy—his hatred and desperation for his father. his resentment of his perfect baby brother. the way both of those things blindside him to his other brother, his sister, their mum. i don’t see him as like, the fun flirty bad boy that i think was a given read of him, earlier in BNHA—i think what he eventually goes through will profoundly change him, if he lives. it’ll take hard work for him to get to a place where he can be like, happy with the family that’s reaching out to him—his father, his mother, his siblings…. his perfect baby brother.

for a post-canon dabbers fic, i’d probably strike at the in-between time between him physically and mentally healing—like, his injuries have been treated, he’s gotten physical therapy. maybe he has a prosthetic arm like his arm, or a cane to help him walk but he can do things, he can physically be apart of the world again—but he still bubbles with his resentment. touya’s a massive fazacon in canon and everyone who disagrees with me can argue with a wall LMAOOO i’m right about this forever, but like, for a x reader fic i think that means competition for his attention on a very base level, you know? like, how do you bond with and romance a guy that’s constantly sour about how his father ruined his life??? to me that means you benefit best from having a Reader-insert who either has their own baggage, or is nihilistic enough to laugh his off LOL. and i think if you’re going to make them both like, kinda unrepentant assholes, you’re almost obligated to give them a happy ending??? or rather—that’s how i would write it. like with the dabi/bonnie & reader/clyde idea, i would set it up so that they both think they’re gonna die at the end of it, that the reader (lowercase) thinks they’re gonna die, that endeavour and rei and the todo siblings (minus Shouto) think they’re gonna die—and then at the end they don’t. one of them—maybe dabi himself, because i think we owe him that chance—tries to pull a stunt that like, lets Reader live, say. maybe he meets up with his perfect baby brother at some stage during the Crime Spree and it’s Shouto who’s like, I can help you. I can help both of you, please let me, and at first Dabi’s furious (how fucking dare this useless squirt of endeavour’s hot fucking snot talk to him like a hero) but then. you know. he gets attached like a chump, or whatever. maybe he sees more of himself in you than he wanted to, or maybe being outside of the careful, clinical surveillance he was under before means he has to confront like—what the point of it all is, you know? he failed in killing his father, his baby brother, himself. he got patched together and now endeavour’s grovelling like a worm for forgiveness Touya doesn’t want to give him, almost (it’s not atonement or forgiveness he wants—he wants the family he should’ve had, the power he should’ve had from birth, perfect and whole). and it’s like—the choice is either go out in a blaze of glory or…. i don’t think he’d even let himself imagine it, LOL. you and him and your fucked up issues like linen in the cupboards of some cute little house with a tidy fence around it? bullshit. pathetic.

(but you patch each other up. and the way you laugh when someone eats shit trying to run during one of your robberies makes him think of his days with the League of Villains—the way everyone was so unrepentative in what they were after, the hurt they wanted to inflict. And yet Toga’s out there somewhere, getting rehabilitated back into society and last Touya heard Spinner was working with heteromorph discrimination programs after a rough recovery—and you could still make it, he thinks in disdain. He’s on his last, last chance but you—you could still have that tiny home, somewhere. The linen cupboards that hold more than the issues that sent you to the same centre he was languishing in. You could still have a future, and later that night when you’re asleep he walks away from the car you’ve traded (stolen) the van in for—and calls his perfect baby brother, who answers the phone silently, waiting.

“You wanna help?” Touya asks, dry. “Then help, Hero.”)

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Find the word tag

Thanks @dyrewrites for the tag!

My words: notice, strange, empty, cold

Your words: habit, presence, hate, owe

Tagging @thepeculiarbird @blind-the-winds @writeouswriter @writingwithcolor @sarandipitywrites @sarahlizziewrites @little-peril-stories @buffythevampirelover @aziz-reads @mary-is-writing @writernopal @sleepywriter00 @badluck990 @herrmannhalsteadproduction

Keep reading for:

Niri trying to teach Gabriel how to play Cribbage

Fun world building fact! Also Ash knocks everyone out

Have you ever thought about how cereal is the skeleton of milk?

My sister infodumped about big cats to me and that's how I wrote this scene where Maddie unlocks her inner animal

Notice - from The Secret Portal Part Two

Niri looked at the cards in his hand. With a five, two sevens, and eight, he would just need a six from Gabriel to claim a run, though a quick runthrough of the potential pattern of play in his head determined that one of the cards could not be played. Niri could live with a run of four, though. He played the seven of clubs before signing, “Eleven.” Gabriel played a six of diamonds before calling, “Seventeen.” Exactly what Niri needed. Niri glanced at his hand, then the Cribbage peg board. He needed fourteen more points to win, and with his hand and the start card, he already had fifteen. If he played his five, he could claim the run of four. However, if he played his eight, he could just claim the run of three. He even had the crib to still add. Whatever he did, he’d be okay. Niri brushed his finger past the five and to the eight of hearts. “Twenty-five,” he signed after placing it down. “That gives me a run of three.” Gabriel grunted slightly as Niri pegged his new score. He glared at his hand before tossing a card on his pile. “Thirty. Please tell me you don’t have an ace.” Niri didn’t have an ace. But Gabriel’s five made the play a run of five. Niri clutched his fingers on his last two cards to prevent himself from signing a help. Please just notice, he thought desperately. “Jesus, Shyaka, either play or say go.” Niri cringed as he set down his cards. “Go.” “Ha-ha,” Gabriel said as he moved his peg. He turned the stack in front of him over and waited for Niri to do the same. “You could’ve claimed a run of five,” Niri pointed out before doing so. “What?” His eyes moved around as he thought. “Shit, I forgot I played a four first. I hate this stupid game and its rules. Why would a run count when it’s out of order?” “You’re the one who asked me to teach you!” “Whatever, let’s just finish the round.” They did, and Niri didn’t even have to pick up the crib to win.

Strange - from The Secret Portal Part One (Ash POV)

“If you’re dizzy, I’d rather you not carry me,” Carmen complained, pushing herself off me. “Carmen—” Jedi started. “No, really, I’m fine.” I was grateful, as I was feeling nauseous. I suddenly understood the elevator. I knew that the mechanics helped cancel out the impact of gravity toward the end, using techniques of negative energy. Stairs didn’t exist in Alium—too great of a height difference existed—so this was their version of an emergency stairwell. I groaned as my head throbbed with a flood of information I wasn’t expecting. I pressed my fingers to my temple. I closed my eyes, focusing on the troubling sensation. Straining, I pushed the feeling away from my mind. That was better. I opened my eyes, gasping when I saw the others collapse to the ground. I must’ve pushed that sickening feeling onto them. I latched my mind onto them, straining, trying to wake them up. Nothing. I twisted my ring with my thumb, trying again. Still, nothing. I focused on them individually but found a strange block on Jedi and Carmen. I could get into basic information and thoughts, as I’d done to get their names, but anything more to wake them up was proven impossible, or at least difficult. But even if that block wasn't there, my efforts on Carla and George weren’t proven to be any more successful. Something around here had to help, right? I sat beside their unconscious bodies, criss-cross, and closed my eyes. I focused on my breathing and put into effect some of the advice Carla gave me earlier. I tried expanding my mind to find anything that could help with the situation. I felt my consciousness stretch out over the entire building, a large, elaborate mansion, as I could now tell. I heard that screaming girl again, but pushed her aside. I’d already figured she was most likely a memory. A sudden pull caused my eyes to fly open. I jumped to my feet, spinning to run in the opposite direction.

Empty - from The Secret Portal Part One (Robbie POV)

“You thinking about something?” Akash asked at the table as I stared at the bowl in front of me. “Have you ever thought about how cereal is like the skeleton of milk?” “You’re implying that milk is meat, and I don’t like that at all.” “Milk has fat—yes, I’m implying that it’s meat.” “So milk is cereal that’s, like, boneless?” “Exactly.” “However, some people have cereal dry, which means that the cereal is a fatless skeleton, but we add fat if we feel the need.” “Does that make the bowl the flesh?” “Of course it does.” “So we’re eating the insides right out of the skin?” Akash paused. “Yes.” “Terrifyingly morbid,” I said, taking a huge bite of my soggy bowl-innards. “Some people have fruit in their cereal,” Akash pointed out. “What are those?” “Organs?” I suggested. “Sure, why not?” “I just realized something even more morbid.” “What?” “So we keep the bones in its own separate box, we keep the meat refrigerated in a liquid state, it’s already disemboweled, and we keep its empty flesh sack in a dark room with other flesh sacks.” “What the heck are you guys talking about?” I looked up to see Sammy in the doorway, her hair a mess from just getting out of bed. “You’re up early,” I noted. Sammy shrugged. “I got hungry.” “You want some disemboweled innards served directly in the flesh sack?” Akash asked, holding up his bowl. Sammy pressed her eyebrows together in a disturbed expression. “I think I’ll get toast.”

Cold - from The Secret Portal Part One (Maddie POV)

“How would a tiger be useful to shift into?” “Camoflauge,” I answered. “Their colors and stripes are almost an illusion to keep them hidden from their prey. But snow leopards are better hunters. And better jumpers, though Bengal tigers can jump pretty well.” “Which is more useful? A snow leopard or a tiger?” “If it was cold enough, easily a snow leopard. They’re more efficient and powerful. But I think tigers would be applicable to other situations. Snow leopards also have giant paws that work like snowshoes so they don’t leave deep indentations in the snow.” “I thought you researched tigers this week,” said Liam. “I kinda got on a research rabbit hole on big cats,” I admitted. “Cheetahs would be useful if I needed to run really fast and accelerate quickly. But the non-retractable claws would be painful. Cheetahs have to be careful with when they use their speed. Lions would be useful, but unfortunately lionesses work better in groups and while male lions are better in one-v-one fights, I don’t know if it’s possible to morph into another sex at will.” Liam smiled. “I wish it were that easy. But unfortunately, it’s rather difficult to do. But I mean, if you get really good, it’s possible.” He stood, clapping his hands. “Okay, I think that small tiger, the Sumatran, would be a good place to start. Just so you don’t strain yourself.” “Do you know what Carla meant my reaching inside myself to my inner animal?” I asked as I stood. “Hm.” Liam pursed his lips. “Well, humans have their own instincts, and so do animals. According to the research I did on animal morphians, you can adopt the instincts of an animal if you’re triggered by a heightened emotional state or you stay in the form for too long. Do you remember how I described it to you?” I nodded. “Feel all the atoms in my body. Think about them changing and rearranging. My DNA unwrapping and tying together in new ways. Taking and removing atoms from other places to change mine.” “And isn’t noting your own atoms similar enough to reaching inside yourself?” “I guess.” I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I prepared for the pain.

[sugarskies]

absolutely begging for a funny theta/koschei crackfic or one shot. love ur deca series btw!! 🖤

hi anon sorry it took me a week to get back to u! beg and u shall receive. i was going to give context here but i can't. there is none. i don't know what this is. i had fun writing it ? and thank you!! 💖💖

without further ado... whatever this is!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“I need to tell you something.”

There was an intensity to Theta’s voice that Koschei barely recognized. He wasn’t about to reveal that he’d painted a new masterpiece or blown up another classroom, it was serious. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait for the news to come.

“I cheated on you,” said Theta, his tone blunt but filled with guilt. Koschei’s jaw dropped, all coherent thoughts fading in favor of deep disappointment and unbridled rage. “I’m so sorry, Kos. If you never forgive me, I’ll und—”

Koschei didn’t wait to hear Theta’s excuses. He turned around and stormed out the door, his destination already in mind. There was no way that Theta would willingly cheat on him. They were so in love, how could he? He had to have been tricked, enchanted even, and there was only one person who could be responsible.

The moment he reached the door, he pounded on it. There was no response from inside but he refused to give up. He pounded until his hands hurt, until the hinges became so weak they broke right off the wall. The door collapsed and he collapsed on top of it, panting his exhaustion as he looked around the room in bewilderment.

“What the hell did you do to my door?”

The realization that Vansell was behind him hit hard. Koschei really spent hours busting down the door for nothing. He took a second to stare at the ground in shock before he rose to his feet. He put one foot behind him, bent his knees, and braced his hands in position, ready to fight. The confusion on Vansell’s face only increased.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” Koschei sneered. “You might be a piece of shit but Theta has a conscience. He told me. I know what you guys did.”

Vansell didn’t have time to so much as open his mouth before Koschei’s fist flew into his jaw. He stumbled backward into the hallway, into Theta. Theta blinked twice, briefly catching Vansell before letting go and allowing him to fall to the floor. Rather than going around or staying put since he was literally right outside the door, Theta stepped on Vansell’s stomach, ignoring the crack of his ribs and his pained groans as he approached Koschei.

“Hey.” Theta kicked Vansell’s legs out of the way when he stumbled. What an inconsiderate place to collapse. “I didn’t cheat on you with Nosebung. Do you really think I’d fuck a guy named Nosebung?”

“Haven’t you fucked him before?”

“Hate-fucking doesn’t count. We’ve been over this.”

If only because he was desperate for answers, Koschei let out a defeated sigh. “Then who?”

“It’s… come on.”

Theta took Koschei’s hand and led him out of the room. Together, they stepped on Vansell, chuckling at the quiet crack from inside his chest. Neither looked back as they walked down the hall, Vansell’s pained groans echoing behind them. Koschei didn’t have the faintest idea where Theta was taking him or who he was going to meet but it didn’t matter. The element of surprise might even work in his favor.

Because it didn’t matter who Theta cheated on him with. Not really. He was going to kill them regardless.

The further they walked, the more confused Koschei became. He’d assumed that Theta would take him to another dorm but they left that building entirely. Theta led him to the science center, past every classroom he was familiar with, to a strange door. Theta took a deep breath before he unlocked it. He reached for the doorknob with one hand, still squeezing Koschei’s hand with the other.

“You’re never going to look at me the same way after this,” said Theta, his voice barely above a whisper. Koschei gripped Theta’s hand tighter, giving him a reassuring look. It was okay. While Theta had a doorknob in his spare hand, Koschei had a knife. He was ready for anyone. At least, that was what he thought until Theta opened the door.

Of all the people he was prepared to stab—which was just about anyone in the universe—somehow, Theta managed to find the one that caught him off guard. Because, of course, the only person he could never have prepared to stab was himself. Koschei.

Koschei was standing in front of… himself?

“Hi Koschei,” said Koschei with a wave.

“Who the hell are you?” Koschei gaped. “What the hell are you?”

“Koschei.”

“No, no, I’m Koschei. You’re like… Fauxschi.”

“Okay.” His cheery shrug was the most frightening thing about him.

“Theta, what the hell is this?!”

“It’s kind of a long story. I don’t know if I really feel like— okay! Okay.” The look on Koschei’s face must’ve been murderous for the way Theta threw his hands in the air. “So, I was trying to clone a squirrel because I thought it would be really funny if there were like a thousand squirrels in here—”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” said Koschei.

“Me too,” said Fauxchei.

“—but one of your hairs must’ve fallen off my shirt or something because I left for one night and I came back ready to clone the squirrels and there you were. He was. And I know he’s not you but he looks like you and yeah, something in his brain is definitely wonky but he’s still really hot and I was powerless.”

“So you’re telling me…” Koschei cut himself off and blinked several times. He rubbed his eyes twice to be sure what he was seeing was real. There was no way. It was like something out of a stupid B-movie. “You’re telling me that you cheated on me with me?”

“But it wasn’t you.”

“Yeah, I know that. I meant— shit. I am pretty hot, aren’t I?”

Theta nodded enthusiastically but Fauxchei spoke first. “I am, thank you.”

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

“You were looking at me.”

“Because you look like me. Like a poor imitation of me but still like me. I was using you as a mirror to admire my own beauty.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Can I kill him?” Koschei turned to Theta abruptly, his expression dark and his tone serious. He pulled the knife from his sleeve and held it up for Theta to see. “I know exactly where to stab him. It’ll only take me one—”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his thought, cut off by Theta’s lips smashing into his. Theta’s hands grabbed each side of Koschei’s face, pulling his skin, his ears, holding him tightly as their bodies pressed together. Koschei kissed him back, one hand squeezing Theta’s waist and the other still gripping his knife.

“You’re so hot when you’re about to commit murder,” Theta breathed, his lips still almost touching Koschei’s.

“I’m even hotter when I’m doing it,” whispered Koschei as he grazed the back of his knife along Theta’s arm.

“Then do it.”

If there was any hesitation in the back of Koschei’s mind, it disappeared the moment Theta’s eyes met his, the moment Theta’s hand curled around his own and his knife. It didn’t matter who he had to kill, even if it was a clone of himself. Theta was his.

Or maybe he was Theta’s but he didn’t mind it that way.

[deadgirlwalking91]

Fic sneak peak - currently untitled.

Context - Lute went over Adam's head, Adam's pissed, verbal sparring ensues. Takes place a couple of years before Vaggie falls. Working title is 'Thank You for the Venom' but that will probs change.

Felt like sharing a little of what I've been creating over the past few days. Final result (aka chapter one) is likely a day or so away!

Still fleshing this out so the final result will likely look different but oh my, these two are *so* much fun to write as enemies!

“With all due respect, Sir –” Lute growled, her professional tone wavering. “I hardly think that putting limits on when I can and cannot converse with you is conducive to creating a professional working relationship with you.”

“Firstly, we don’t have a professional working relationship, babe. It’s pretty fucking black and white, actually – I’m your boss, you listen to me. It’s not that difficult a concept to grasp.” Lute opened her mouth in anger to protest, but Adam held up a single finger, signalling for her to wait. Dumb move. That single gesture just fuelled the intense rage that was quickly building inside her.

“Secondly, the rule is don’t talk to me about important shit before nine o’clock. Chances are I won’t remember it because I’ll be half asleep, and I’ll give even less of a fuck about it because you’ve pissed me off before I've had my morning coffee.”

“I’d rather not talk to you at all,” Lute said through gritted teeth. “But, I unlike you, actually care about Extermination Day, and if we continue how we’re currently track-”

“And I, unlike you,” Adam said mockingly in a high-pitched voice that was supposed to sound like Lute’s, “couldn’t give a shit about how many Sinners we slay next Extermination Day, or whatever the fuck it was that you ran to Sera about. The only thing that matters is that we show our faces in Hell on Extermination Day and slaughter some demon ass. That’s it. Those fuckers are scared shitless of us anyway, so it doesn’t matter how many we kill, we'll always have the upper hand. It’s called working smarter, not harder, babe.”

[prettybbychim]

there’s this thing i’ve noticed on ao3 since i’ve started posting stuff again. like i post a chapter, it’s been about a month since then, someone comments smth like “hey was wondering if ur gonna update or if you’ve abandoned it”

my guy it’s been a Month

it takes me a month to get about 10k out (which seems to be my average word count for my chapters) if and only if i’m writing everyday and im running into minimal issues

this fic in particular i have this written in like 2 places

ironically enough, this is a revamp of an actual abandoned work lol

it’s just strange to me because it hasn’t been long at all. i know there’s some popular authors that can churn stuff out on the daily or have a regular schedule and that’s good for them. they probably have a backlog of content, it’s probably all finished or nearing it and they’re posting in stages. or they’re a speed demon and have abilities us mortals cannot comprehend

i’m too impatient to do that stuff lol if i have a good thing going, i wanna share and yeah, sometimes updates are few and far between but that’s just how i roll lol might be bad for the numbers or whatever but im trying really hard not to give a shit about that lol

i’m not angry i wanna make that clear, i’m just perplexed lol (a little frustrated) like i’d expect this kind of question after a year or smth, but a month?

honey pls i don’t even work rn i’m at home near 24/7 dealing w health issues and i can write all fucking day long if i so pleased and im still not going to get stuff done in under a month for a large variety of reasons (editing, sending it to my beta, reworking scenes, rearranging scenes, first draft and the many between the final draft, just to name a few), pair that with my adhd and frequent flitting between whatever topic is the shiniest to me at the moment. i have 7 fics im actively working on. nothings really getting done but stuff is progressing at a relatively slow rate because of it

and sometimes you just need a break. like a real break. shutting my brain off for a good week or so

i’m aware that my readers don’t know this and they can’t know this unless they follow me on here and i happen to be talking about it lol

but still, a month? have you abandoned it?

honey pls i just started it! it’s been a month. give a guy some slack here. we’re human and busy and stressed and first and formost, we’re doing this for fun

fortunately, in my case, these comments don’t upset me. rather, they make me want to write that fic out of spite like fuck u it’s not abandoned look at me making so much goddamn progress on it

most people are not like me. they will get discouraged. i can’t keep up, is it even worth trying when im disappointing my readers over and over again?

then that fic u like so much might actually become abandoned.

this is not encouragement. even for me who might be spurred into writing that one work, it’s not positive encouragement.

i’m so so happy you like my work enough to inquire about it, but this is not the compliment you think it is.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

do you have any advice how to write smut without having any sort of sexual experience? it’s a sensitive topic for me for several reasons, my big age being one of them, and i’d rather explore it through fiction first until i’m ready to do the real deal.

i hope this ask doesn’t make you uncomfortable, and i’m sorry if it does. feel free to ignore it in this case!

last but not least, a general thank you 🩷 i love reading your fics, thoughts and advice. you’re amazing!

Thank you so much for your kind words, they are very much appreciated <3 Happy to give some pointers.

Read a lot of smut, good as well as bad. Fanfiction, published, online sources, whatever. Take the stories/scenes apart; what is good, what is bad and why is that? Keep these things in mind as you write.

Have fun. If you're not having fun, you're doing it wrong.

Write, draft, practice. It's the only way to get good. Early stuff will most likely score high on the cringe scale (mine did, holy shit - still does, come to think of it), but practice makes perfect. Don't expect perfect right out the gate.

A piece of advice that floated around here some time ago; in every sex scene, write at least one sentence that will make you blush. If you're blushing and/or aroused, you're on the right track.

Trust your readers. They don't have to have every detail spelled out. Alluding to things and letting the reader fill in whatever blanks there are can be hotter than anything you put on paper.

I hope that's somewhat helpful, but please feel free to reach out whenever!

[more-thoughts-than-money]

Born “gifted”; grown chronically depressed

// long, personal post. basically a tutorial on express therapy (and by express I mean 10 years of rationalising, learning psychology on myself and fictional characters + 48 hours of not sleeping)

When I was grieving I spent 48 hours sleepless

it’s not that I couldn’t sleep. I’ve been on insomnia medication for 3 years now. I just had to “have a reason” and time to actually acknowledge my emotion and thoughts which caused my body to struggle with setting a “proper” circadian rhythm

Living with a 5 person family in basically a studio flat for 13 years of my life low-key harmed my ability to think and “feel” without privy eyes

this accidentally sent my brain into survival mode where I could only “think rationally” at night

So when we moved out and I got to have a room of my own

that’s when *serious* sleep problems started

my brain would just REFUSE to shut the fuck up

first off I was used to tv noise while falling asleep

i fixed it up with some rain sounds or watching ATLA when I was feeling funky

it distracted me enough

still I wouldn’t fucking sleep.

because my brain didn’t feel like it

probably hyperactivity which I could never “treat” with sport as an asthmatic kid

also an outcast but it is what it is

unable to name the cause of my insomnia I would just head to sleep at 10pm. Two reasons for that:

a) you know what they say! Don’t trust your thoughts after 10PM

b) 8h of sleep is THE healthy amount. And it seems like my brain likes waking up early for whatever reason!

yeah also I went through a fair share of medication before they got it right

anyways whoops I’m depressed now. Very depressed and even more anxious. Day by day my brain is giving me more compulsive behaviours and thoughts! Yaaay!

so I went through a 3 years worth of antidepressants

also a lot of unintended research (thanks, tiktok.)

basically I “subconsciously” KNEW what my problem is but “consciously” my brain refused I acknowledge it because haha living in the state of constant survival mode is way more fun! right?

right?

basically it was like being a doctor and being pretty certain about the diagnosis but having to go to some other doctor to objectively either confirm or discard my diagnosis

yeah anyways I changed medication, SNRI, venlafaxine

known to help some adhd folk with severe vegetative depression for “no reason”

Yeah basically my new psychiatrist kept on upping the dose until I got “a kick in the ass” so we know it works

and then my aunt died.

wELL my workaholic and emotionally constipated child brain would NOT acknowledge it

hell you’d catch me dead before I’d admit that I felt shitty but didn’t know how to deal with that because at the same time I “saw it coming”

No one ever told me she’s sick

I just saw her hair loss (or rather a sudden haircut change and awkward silence that followed) and had some foggy memory of someone saying her sister died of cancer

Mind you I don’t fucking remember my childhood that well

hell I don’t remember it at all but it is what it is

I just “know” some things and some are more of a “hunch”

I have this information buried in my brain but I can’t recall how it got there, ykwim?

yeah basically I was suspecting she’s dying of cancer but I was trying to stay optimistic and told myself I’m “overthinking it”

and I thought the mourning was “good enough of a reason” to stay up for 48 hours, write down my “thoughts” and wail all day long (yes, everyone gave me shit for crying growing up, how did you know?)

anyways yeah I did this and suddenly I “solved” the root of ALL my anxieties and minor paranoias.

as if it was a fucking riddle. Or a fucking house MD episode.

I hope you can understand WHY I’m so livid.

I SPENT OVER 3 YEARS ON ANTIDEPRESSANTS AND MADE ONE THERAPIST CRY JUST BECAUSE MY BRAIN WENT SO FAR INTO THE SURVIVAL MODE EVERY TIME I INTERACTED WITH A HUMAN BEING. IM JUST FUCKING AUTISTIC AND TRAUMATISED NOT “ANXIOUS” AND “PARANOID”

OH FOR FUCKS SAKE

Also I’m fucking dyslexic. But hyperlexic at the same time. I mean I’m hyperlexic in my native language, and I “remember” the spellings so I went undiagnosed

but I love technology. I want to be a CS student and then I’ll see where I can go from here. I’d love to work on an online learning platform for “gifted” children

y’know so they don’t lose their childhood but at the same time can associate learning with something nice and actually enjoyable

I think a lot of “gifted kid burnout” comes from the | dopamine <—> habit making | mechanism

so if children can learn they don’t HAVE TO be good at every subject and learn their “strengths and weaknesses” early on

Hardships later on won’t be as depressing

cause hey maybe I’m not the best at english but I know a lot about maths and I like maths and maybe when I grow older I can be a mathematician!!

you see what I mean?

at least this is what I’m trying to do for myself

generational trauma and neurodivergency running in the family made me develop some shitty coping mechanisms (example - perfectionism in order to cope with my actual time blindness and the “need” for structure while hating organisation and refusing “unreasonable” authority)

I wasn’t raised catholic, not really

nor was I raised queer lol

but my brain reacted to religion the same way people who went through religious trauma did

basically I put myself through religious trauma on accident!

fun, aye?

what I mean is, I grew up religious because that’s what “felt right”

tradition and all that

and then I realised the catholics hate me for no fucking reason

and then I thought “well fuck you too!” And called myself an atheist

later it went into agnostic

and a couple of weeks back I grew OBSESSED with religion

christian one I mean

Fuck I even started reading the nsrv bible in english (!)

and then I tried to interpret it “by myself” using some historical context and googling some stuff

WHAAAAAAAT! Turns out the bible is a product of its own time and is not to be taken literally!

That’s crazy innit?

Yeah and then I realised all of my recent hyperfixations (last two years) were a silent ways of rationalising ALL my “unreasonable” anxiety and trauma caused by; you guessed it

NOT UNDERSTANDING SYMBOLISM AND SOCIAL CUES AS IT IS

IN MY NATIVE FUCKING LANGUAGE

I can learn *any* language

I just need some books, movies, music in said language

But don’t ask me about any grammar. I don’t care about grammar. And you can’t make me. Idfk what present simple is but I can shove it so far up your ass your own mother won’t recognise you. so yeah

I’m great at learning languages cause they’re a “brainless” work for me

I mean

I learn languages for fun - it’s a tool to communicate with broader audience AND find more knowledge on the internet (I Google EVERYTHING in english)

and when someone tries to make it into an actual job of mine. This is when it goes downhill.

also english being coded as “language of knowledge” is my “main” language

my native language is way more complicated and I never really had to acknowledge my emotion in polish

I mean maybe I did but I just never wanted to cause I never learned that! English in comparison is simple. It allows me to communicate simple ideas without the need to “sound smart”

this and isolation from my peers (kids are bastards) gave me an actual “language barrier”

which isn’t the case really

it was just my overthinking

I started enjoying polish music way more recently cause I can never get the lyrics

so I listen only to what sounds “cool”

in english on the other hand the most of my music taste was built around midwestern emo and folk punk

cause I listened only to songs that felt “somewhat relatable”

yeah all of that understanding makes me want to write an essay but i kind of don’t care and I’m too lazy to do that!

so yeah this is how I “cured” my compulsions, anxiety, depression, irritability and perfectionism. By having fucking adhd and being a massive nerd. because I would hyperfixate on linux, customisation, open source applications, cybersecurity, programming

turns out I’m great at maths since I KNOW HOW to solve the problems

My brain is just too quick to do it step by step so I tend to skip and get lost in my own fuckin notebook 💀

schooling just made me believe I suck at maths and i should actually kms for trying to improve at it /hj /lh

And I suck at my own language. I know a lot of “complicated” words and can deduce what certain words mean (logically) but I have issues adapting my language to my listeners. I either cuss every other word (too comfortable; thanks mom LMFAO)

Or I speak like an university professor. To my peers. And they don’t know what the fuck is going on. And I end up isolating myself because of crippling fear of being misinterpreted. And people think I don’t have a sense of humour whatsoever because I don’t “get” jokes. But I joke a lot and am very sarcastic cause that’s just how I am. God damn it

When were y’all going to tell me not everyone thinks I want to use them and be a bastard overall when I need to ask someone for help. when. were. you.

icb I had to go to paid therapy, feed myself some subliminal messaging, deprive myself of sleep for 48 hours, force myself to talk to my dad about things I don’t understand or scare me, go manic for a week on venlafaxine, my aunt had to die and I had to have a reason not to go to school for 2 days for me to actually acknowledge my emotion instead of rationalising it.

also everyone in school + my therapist thinks I’m still manic and in need of hospitalisation. How do I even begin to explain it’s not that I have superiority complex, and I just realised I’m hella smart, just in a pretty unexpected way….. because thorough my entire life I never acknowledged it for the sake of being “humble”. bitch it’s not humble it’s the lack of self worth and being someone else’s doormat.

y’all think that if I say “house md and one tumblr post cured me” they’ll let me off the radar?

no honestly I have too much to catch up on (maths, c++, reading in POLISH, and learning German for fun) to actually care about “depressing” things of this world

I mean sure it does sound unhealthy in hindsight

but thing is

this is the first time in my life where I don’t feel hopeless both about present AND the future

and I guess that’s enough for now

I have “a goal” and that’s enough

Later I might catch a job as an actual university professor. Maths or computer science. Biology or physics maybe?

it gives me an excuse to be “eccentric” lol

cause the students are here to learn not to make fun of who I am and focus on that

sure it’s a funny anecdote to mention like “dude my physics teacher is fucking nuts but at least his lectures are interesting”

and that’s all I care about

I get to express myself instead of internalising anything

and the students get to learn

yay and yay

mutual benefit!

yeah anyway fuck I have so much shit to catch up on and I’m so lazy I actually have to reorganise my room and desk so I don’t try to do my homework in bed……. (Yes I was THAT depressed and lazy)

when I do my chores in bed I keep on losing my pens and I’m one minor inconvenience away from doing something I might not particularly want to do…….

yah

thats it I guess

If this post made anyone realise something (“connect some dots”)

congrats and I’m sorry you had to find out this way LMFAO

if not

scroll ahead, not the target audience probably

[whysamwhy123]

After a good week or so of not being able to write a single word of anything and feeling real shitty about it, I managed to write just under 1k words! And I’m...happy with it?? More or less?? Like, there’s parts of it that I think are Somewhat Good?? CRAZY. PREPOSTERIOUS.

This innocent little fluff piece is actually coming along a bit now, probably gonna be the next thing I post, instead of the darkfic I was working on. I think if I’ve learnt anything from this, it’s that I really need to just go with the flow when it comes to writing whenever I feel like it. Yes, I know ‘’write everyday!’’ is the best advice you can give a writer, but I straight-up can’t write everyday. Like, some days, my brain is just like NO and it usually gets me so frustrated and mad at myself and it only makes me end up hating writing? I guess I just need to accept that I can’t do this shit everyday and that I should only write if and when I’m in the right mood for it and my brain is being cooperative. And if it just ain’t happening one day, then that’s fine - I just won’t write that day. It’s not like I’ve got deadlines or shit like that. This is a hobby and I’d do well to remember that. So instead of trying to force myself to write X thing on X day, I’m just gonna relax and write whatever I want, whenever I want.

It’s more fun like this. Maybe it’s not the ‘right’ way to go about things. Maybe it’s going to prevent me from becoming a better writer and I’ll never really improve now. But I think it’s how I need to approach writing in order to have fun with it. And that’s the most important thing, right? 

I think I’d rather be a bad writer who has fun than a good writer who hates every second of it, you know?

[katcoquette]

Almost There

Reuben "Payback" Fitch x Reader

part of my cabin in the woods collection happening throughout the month of october- a collection of stand-alone* stories (cute fall & spooky) set in the same cabin in the woods, read them all if you dare uncover the full mystery...

summary: the drive up to the cabin you've rented for the weekend is uneventful, until you can't shake a dreadful feeling for the rest of the night.

✦ word count: 2.8k

✦ tw/tags: 🕷 spooky spider out of 5, sense of impending doom, weird feelings, ghost sighting, driving through a forest at night, nausea

✦ author's note: the amusement park in my town rates their haunted houses out of 5 pumpkins or whatever so I'm gonna do the same for the spooky half of this collection, five spider scale 🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷 meaning I was so scared while writing this I almost shit myself when my dog opened my bedroom door & 🕷 meaning just a little spooky, might give you a little shiver

The evening had died down enough that even the stragglers had finally made their exit, leaving you and your family to sit in the satisfying silence that came at the end of a successful event.

Streamers, glitter, and ring-shaped souvenirs were scattered around the floor- remnants of the celebration that had come together, through no small feat of your own, in less than a week after your baby sister’s proposal.

“Well that was fun.” Your brother interrupts the silence to comment. “Yeah, it was.” Your sister confirms, giggling with her new fiancée from where they were sprawled across the couch.

You smile at their interaction, snuggling further into your boyfriend’s arms as the conversation about the night continues. You’re close to falling asleep when you feel Payback shift.

“We should probably get going.” He says softly, kissing the top of your head. You almost groan, but pry yourself up anyway- he was right. You stretch your arms back, trying to wake yourself up, and then you offer him a hand to pull him up.

“You headed out?” Your sister notices and stands up to say goodbye to you both.

She hugs Payback first, “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course. Congratulations again.”

She smiles at him, and then turns to you, pouting as she holds out her arms.

“Thank you for putting this together for us. It was such a fun night.” She’s teary-eyed when she pulls away, and you pout back at her, pinching her cheek. “Of course, honey. There’s no one else I’d rather be planning a wedding for.”

You say goodbye to the rest of your family, and your mom walks you to the door. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay the night? Go up in the morning?”

“We’ll be alright, Mom. It’s only an hour from here.” You kiss her cheek. Payback’s hand is resting on your lower back as you walk out the front door. “Thanks for having me, Mrs. Y/L/N. It’s always great to see you.”

“It’s our pleasure, Reuben. You’re welcome anytime, even without our daughter!” He laughs, promising to take your mother up on her offer at some point. You don’t doubt that he will.

“Parent-pleaser.” You mutter as soon as the front door closes. He slings his arm over your shoulder, walking you down the driveway. “One of us has to be.”

“Hey!”

He chuckles, then changes the subject. “Want me to drive?”

“Yes please. I don’t think I can mentally handle trying to get us to the cabin.” He fishes your keys out of your front pocket, giving you a quick kiss in the process. “I figured. You’ve had a long work week.”

He unlocks the car and opens the passenger door for you, closing it once you’ve dragged your legs inside.

“It was a fun long though, for the most part.”

“The party tonight was fantastic; you really did a great job.”

It’s close to midnight by the time the two of you manage to pull out of your parents’ driveway and get on the road. He intertwines one hand with yours over the middle console, the other firmly holding the wheel.

The radio plays softly in the background as you settle into the drive. You catch yourself yawning, and, having decided that you weren’t going to sleep and leave him alone, you shift in your seat, sitting up straighter.

“Tired?” He glances over at you with a smile.

You rub the back of his hand with your thumb, returning it. “A little bit. Are you?”

“Nah, I’m doing good.”

“You apologized to everyone about us being late right?”

“Your sister’s engagement party wasn’t something we were ever going to miss, but yes, I apologized anyway.”

“Okay. Good.”

He takes one hand from the steering wheel and squeezes your thigh. “You have nothing to worry about. Everyone’s gonna love you.”

“How did you know I was thinking about that?”

“Your thoughts are written all over your face, I can always tell.” You sigh, looking out the window.

You’re not convinced.

Sure, nothing to worry about- apart from this trip being with eleven of his closest friends and their own guests, and your first trip as a couple.

Exciting yes, but also, a little stressful.

“You’ll know some people there; it won’t be all strangers. And you also aren’t the only ‘new’ person in the group.”

He squeezes your hand. “And- there’s no way the entire group will still be awake when we get there, so you can meet everyone in smaller waves.” You purse your lips as you ruminate on his words.

“Annddd… you know me. I’ll be there the whole time too.” He grins, teasing you.

That causes a smile to break out onto your face. “You’re rightt.” You do feel better about it.

“God you’re good at pep talks.”

“I know.”

You occupy the next forty minutes with random discussions and upbeat music. The roads narrow to one lane and start to wind around and through the twisted trunks local to the area. By the time you reach the sign announcing your official arrival to ‘Elfin Forest Recreational Reserve’, you’re feeling more awake than you have all day.

You’re in the middle of laughing at something Payback has said when you’re hit with a wave of nausea. It’s unlike anything you’ve felt before, and it happens almost instantaneously as you pass the sign.

Your head spins as you try to process it, had the curves in the road made you carsick? Suddenly, the car feels too hot, your clothing feels too tight, and the road feels too small.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. The nausea has morphed into a different feeling- one that you’re not even sure you could describe if you tried to in this moment, but it’s heavy, dark, an overwhelming dread.

It’s worse than the nausea.

“Can you pull over?” You can barely keep your voice steady, and your hand is gripping the arm rest.

“We’re almost to the cabin, I think-”

“Pull over!” You wince at the tone of your voice, but you need to get out of the car, you must. You’re trying your best to control your behavior, but you can’t help grasping frantically for the door handle as soon as the car stops.

“Jesus- are you okay?” You barely hear your concerned boyfriend. The cool air that hits you provides some comfort, so you swing your legs out of the car and plant them on the side of the road, leaning over and resting your elbows on your thighs.

“What’s going on?” He’s leaned over the console as far as he can manage, rubbing circles into your back.

“I don’t know.”

“Do we need to call someone? I don’t know who we would call- an ambulance? Do you need an ambulance?” You focus on your breathing, squeezing your eyes shut, and whisper, “No, it’s not that bad-“

“Shit- baby, I don’t have cell service.” He hits his phone against his palm, and holds it higher- as if that will make it start to work. You’d make fun of him for it if you were in different circumstances. He’s genuinely scared and doing anything he can short of willing a cell tower to suddenly appear.

“Reu, I don’t need an ambulance.” It starts to get easier to breathe the longer you sit in the cool air, unmoving. “It’s okay- I’m okay.”

“What- are you serious?” You sit back into the passenger seat, taking a moment to mentally check over yourself. “Yeah.”

He looks at you with wide eyes, still in disbelief. “…are you sure?” You nod, more scared at your body’s outburst than anything else, because as quickly as it had descended on you, it had completely subsided.

You glance outside again, taking notice this time of a mile marker right where you’d pulled over.

Mile marker 314. Your car door is still open, and suddenly you feel an urge to close it- your mind convincing you that if you don’t close it now- something will happen.

Mile marker 314 is exactly six and a half miles from the sign. Of course, neither of you know this, nor do you know that it’s much newer than any of the other markers that dot the forest’s road- on account of it being the only one that had to be replaced.

You pull your legs back into the car and slam the door, clicking the lock immediately after.

“Let’s keep going.”

“That seemed pretty fucking serious.” You can hear a wobble in his voice, and though you’re completely freaked out by the whole thing, you’re trying not to let it show.

“I know, Reu, but I just want to get to the cabin. I’m sure it was car sickness.” His brow is still furrowed, not entirely convinced. You’re not either.

You have no other explanation, and you just want to leave the dark road.

You twist in your seat so you’re facing him, and take his hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m sorry for scaring you. It was just sudden, probably because of how curvy the roads are.” You move a hand to cup his cheek and kiss him. “I promise I’m okay.”

He rests his forehead against yours, searching your eyes. “Okay.” You smile softly, giving him another kiss before you sit back against the headrest.

You feel even more relief as you pull away from the side of the road, and mile marker 314.

It takes 20 more minutes to reach the gate of the cabin. You find the code in your notes, and Payback gets out of the car to punch it in. You take more deep breaths as you watch him walk around the front of the car. He must punch it in wrong the first time, because a light blinks red at the top of the box.

Your eyes wander over the landscape beyond the gate as he continues to try to get it open. The cabin was much bigger than you’d been expecting from the few pictures Payback had showed you from his group chat.

It looked nice, really nice, and from what you could see of the grounds, everything had been well-kept.

The gate finally creaks open, and you see your boyfriend jogging back to the car. “It’s really cold out there.” He comments, rubbing his hands together as you wait for the gate to open fully. “I’m glad we’re not camping.”

As you pull up the driveway, you can’t help the words that come out of your mouth, “It’s so beautiful.”

You notice movement on the roof over the entry way, and you crane your head to get a better look.

Sure enough, you see two figures stand up and walk back toward the light from a nearby window that sits behind a porch on the second floor. You can’t see who it is from the driveway, but you smile, glad that at least two people in the group would be awake to meet.

From the corner of your eye, you notice something else, so you sweep your eyes over the rest of the structure, landing on another figure.

They’re standing at the side of the house, near the edge of the woods. You freeze- as if all time has stopped around you.

You can barely make out any detail of their clothes, or features, as they’re facing away from you. But as soon as your eyes land on them, they start to turn toward you. It’s slow, and deliberate, and you’re struck with the same feeling from the road.

In your mind you beg, plead to some higher power that the figure- a woman, you can see now- not turn any further, not face you. You want to pull your eyes from the scene, but you can’t seem to will yourself to do it.

“We made it.”

Payback’s voice breaks through your mind, a savior to you in this moment, and it’s enough to break whatever trance you’d fallen into. When you turn from the window and see the excitement on his face, the dread falls away from you.

You feel relief once again.

“You ready to go in?” You blink, registering his words. You don’t dare look back to the side of the house.

“Yeah. Let’s go in.”

You meet each other at the trunk to grab your bags, and then you’re walking up the steps. The door opens, and Rooster’s head pops around the side of it. He steps back when he sees the two of you, opening it wider so you can get your bags through. “Hey! You made it.”

The familiar face smiling next to Rooster immediately calms your nerves. She steps forward and pulls you into her arms, giving you a tight hug. “Agh, I missed you!” You hear Rooster close the door and greet Payback behind you.

When you pull apart you notice her husband staring at you with the best poker face he can muster. You share a knowing glance with her, and then she elbows his side. “Oh! Uh- it’s good to see you again.”

“I’m surprised you remember the last time we met, you and Reu were prettyyy out of it.” His eyes widen as he looks to his wife for some sort of lifeline, but she just shrugs, a grimace on her face. “Think you’ve been caught, babe.”

Payback laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “She saw right through you, man. It was a good effort though.”

“You two are the worst.” He points at them. “No help at all.”

“I did appreciate the gesture though, don’t worry.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet again anyway, I promise I’ll remember most of this trip.” He jokes, causing the rest of you to laugh.

When it dies down, you speak again, “Is anyone else around?”

They glance at each other, then both shake their heads as Rooster answers your question. “Not that we’ve seen, but we have been up on the roof.”

You hum in response.

“You two have probably had a long day, we should let you get settled. But tomorrow I want to hear all about your sister’s engagement.”

“Sounds good.” You smile at her. They give you directions and say goodnight, and then you and Payback are on your way to the unoccupied suite at the far end of the main floor.

It’s quiet as you put your bags down and start to get ready for bed, not for any other reason aside from exhaustion catching up with both of you. When you’re standing at the double sink in the bathroom brushing your teeth, you make eye contact in the mirror and smile at each other.

“Are you still feeling okay?”

You spit your toothpaste in the sink, turning on the water, and nod. “Much better now that we’re here.”

He wipes his face, and you finish up your skincare routine. “I didn’t think you got carsick.”

You rub lotion into your hands, then follow him out of the bathroom, flipping off the light. “I usually don’t- that’s why I was kind of panicking.”

He stops to face you, and pull you into his chest. “I think your panic was justified. I was panicked. That got really bad really fast.” You wrap your arms tightly around him.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He kisses the top of your head. “Don’t be. It’s not something you can control. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You tilt your head back to look at him, and he leans down to kiss you.

“Now-“ He emphasizes the word with another kiss. “-we can get some sleep, and tomorrow we’ll really start enjoying our first trip together.” You smile.

“Sounds perfect.” He rubs your back as you pull apart to walk to the other side of the room, patting your ass when you turn.

You glance back, pursing your lips amusedly.

As you pass by the large window to get into bed, you hesitate, biting the inside of your cheek. It wasn’t lost on you as you walked through the kitchen and into another hallway that you were headed toward the side of the house closest to where you had seen…someone earlier.

And though you feel a little silly for doing it, you pull the curtain aside just enough to look out toward the woods.

Because even though, according to the Bradshaws, everyone was sleeping, and even though you don’t particularly want to feel that feeling again, you still hope the same someone is still outside- that you’ll be able to recognize them.

Because then you’ll be able to put your mind to rest.

But you don’t see anything, or anyone, out of the ordinary. There’s enough moonlight to see that the property extends all the way to the edge of the tree line, with a wooden fence to mark the separation, and that’s all.

You let the curtain fall back into place, shielding you once again from the outside world.

Maybe it was just car sickness- you hadn’t eaten enough that day. And it probably was just one of your friends in the yard- they’d gone back inside without passing through the main area of the house. You let out a decisive breath.

Yes- there was an explanation for everything. It’s what you repeat to yourself as you get into bed, turn off the lamp, and snuggle into your boyfriend’s arms.

Taglist: @imwaytootires @choochoo284 @teti-menchon0604 @hopefulinlove @phoenix1389 @littlebadariell @cycbaby @seasidh @nonsensical-nonce @dracosluvbot @army24--7 @unordinare @xoxabs88xox @alexxavicry @Itsyogurl19 @toocoldoutsideforyou @double-j @classygirlything21

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

Doctor Who: Wild Blue Yonder Review

Quick question, Russel T. Davies: where the fuck did THIS come from? I only ask because this is a genuinely brilliant, exciting, well-written episode of Doctor Who that feels like the best of your original run, whereas- no offence- The Star Beast was a confused, underwhelming mess. Seriously, if I was a teacher who had to grade both pieces of work, I’d assume you’d gotten illegal help with one of them. I mean, seriously Russ: what did you do between writing Exhibit A (the mess) and Exhibit B (the fucking masterpiece)? Did you just neck a fuckload of hallucinogens? Did you finally get laid? Did you allow yourself to be beaten over the head with a big, rubber hammer? Whatever it was that made the difference, please, please keep doing it.

And now to address my actual readers: Wild Blue Yonder is very, very good and I recommend you watch it with a fucking colostomy bag in, because it is shit-yourself scary. The Doctor and Donna get stranded on a spaceship at the literal edge of the universe (she spilled some tea on the TARDIS console, because of course she fucking did) and there are things aboard from the darkness beyond that edge. Lacking shape or form or mass- being entities of pure, malignant consciousness in fact- they assume the forms of Donna and the Doctor and proceed, forthwith, to fuck with them in the most unsettling and horrific manner possible. It’s creepy as fuck to see the copied bodies of our leads distort and warp in horrendous, Kronenberg-ish ways as the entities from the dark beyond existence seek to elicit their fear, but the real-headfuck comes from their refusal to give up the pretence, remaining in-character even while waxing loquacious on their evil plans (which I won’t spoil). There’s an element of psychological warfare- even torture- at play here, as they gradually tease out bits of buried darkness and it’s deeply, deeply affecting. It’s strikes a delicate balance, being the kind of thing that you can get away with on prime-time TV without pulling its punches one fucking iota.

Of course, this being a Doctor Who episode, the horror is tempered with humour and quite a bit of silliness. There’s a line about how someone “Got a very old robot out of storage to walk, very slowly, down a very long corridor” that, in context is giggle-worthy (particularly with the additional knowledge that the Doctor has named the robot ‘Jimbo’) and a bit where the leads meet Isaac Newton and then discuss how hot was (with the Doctor being surprised to realise that recent experiences have turned him just a tiny bit gay).

The Doctor also gets to be the Doctor in this episode- running around, solving mysteries and finding ways to fight monsters. Not fucking victims of a ‘psychedelic sun’ or insect blokes who eventually turn out to be good guys: actual, no-holes-barred, proper Doctor Who monsters! I won’t spoil the solution he eventually hits on, but it’s bombastic and clever and entertaining in a way that literally nothing in The Star Beast was.

Oh, and no spoilers, but the final scene nearly made me cry. In a good way.

Obviously, I have gripes. Well, one gripe. Namely: Sir Isaac ‘Mr. Gravity’, Fuck You Newton was not a mixed-race individual and while colour-blind casting is fine (great, actually) for fictional characters, you can’t just race-swap actual people who actually lived and had identities of their own. The past isn’t just a big dustbin of fun characters and events to be pilfered for content: it’s a series of lives and experiences lived by real, sentient people who, if they had any say in the matter, would probably like to be accurately represented after their deaths. Even in an upbeat work of fiction, the past ought to be treated with a modicum of tact and delicacy; its tropes and ways of being preserved with all their flaws rather than suborned to suit modern audiences. Irreverence is fine: wild inaccuracy isn’t. I’d also like to point out that, if they wanted a non-white physicist in the episode, there are fucking loads of real ones who just aren’t taught in the Western scientific canon. This could have been a good time to introduce wider audiences to, say, Robert Bragg or Arthur B.C. Walker, Jr (who is the only reason we today can observe the sun’s corona accurately enough to get a sense of what it’s fucking doing, by the way). I mean, surely drawing attention to real non-white scientists is much more meaningful than pretending a dude with skin like fucking Savlon wasn’t Caucasian. It’s less attention-grabbing, of course, and it doesn’t virtue-signal as hard, but it’s more meaningfully progressive and actually serves to enlighten and inform viewers.

Okay, that’s out my system now. I would like to stress that I’ve only devoted so much time to that because it’s important to clarify where my objection comes from, lest some cretin completely miss the point and set up a chant of ‘bigot’ (probably misspelled as bigfoot because of the autocorrect on their cunting smartphone) right outside my blog. I often find that the people who object to these false representations publicly are just bigots because decent, progressive people are too bloody scared to point out the real flaws. It’s therefore important, as a progressive, anti-racist person, to raise objections that are actually sane, lest our entire cultural debate descend into a slap-fight between hateful, ill-read fascist micrococks and sanctimonious, reality-denying nutbars. All that being said, not-really-Isaac-Newton is only in Wild Blue Yonder for, like, three minutes, so in terms of the episode itself, it really is a teeny-tiny gripe and shouldn’t in any way ruin anyone’s enjoyment thereof. (EDIT: I actually considered deleting this whole bit, but that felt obscurely like cowardice, so I settled for a rewrite that shortened my original rant considerably).

A more immediately relevant discussion might be why Wild Blue Yonder worked where The Star Beast failed. And no, I don’t think it’s just that Our Russ got laid between script-writing sessions. Have you seen his face nowadays? He looks like a potato receiving an unexpected suppository. Nobody’s into that. No, I suspect the reason Wild Blue Yonder works is the tight focus and small scale. Essentially, its four characters- the protagonists plus two antagonists- on a spaceship, trying to out-think each other. There’s mystery, conflict and an interesting setting to provide context, and that’s all any story really needs. I often find that mistakes and poor writing creep into telly shows and films in proportion to the amount of superfluous shit they give themselves to juggle. I think there needs to be a term for that, so I’m going to coin one: ‘Concept Bloat’. The more extra characters and ideas and elements an individual episode of a TV show has, the more likely one of them is to go wrong, and when one thing goes wrong, a lot of other less-than-optimal stuff is allowed to slide by unchallenged because it looks fine next to the thing that actually went properly, fully wrong. The Star Beast is actually a perfect study of how this happens. The ‘Roth Warriors’ (I have no idea if I’m spelling that correctly, nor do I care) looked rubbish, but their rubbishness was less obvious than it should have been compared to the overall look of the episode’s fictitious London. Meanwhile, the plastic-y version of London probably seemed acceptable in the context of a plot where reversing a star-ship engine can magically heal streets. The magically-healing streets probably seemed fine because they were sharing plot-space with a wheelchair containing a hidden rocket-launcher (to clarify, I have no problem with a wheelchair that can shoot rockets- I just don’t think there’s any way you could make it look like a regular wheelchair). The sheer absurdity of this might well have gone unnoticed because, next to phrases like ‘Male Presenting Time Lord’, stupid tech probably seemed fine. And phrases like ‘Male Presenting Time Lord’ probably seemed acceptable when spoken two minutes after an encounter with a crappy-looking Roth Warrior, bringing us full circle. With a more streamlined set of ideas, it would have been easier to prune out the bad ones, or retool them until they worked. Each individual nugget of crap, however, allowed the crap on either side of it to pass unnoticed and what you ended up with was, well, The Star Beast. In contrast, Wild Blue Yonder is as tight as an XS rubber gimp suit and genuinely brilliant. It does more with less because there was time to hone and polish the less.

So what does this say about the future of the show? In my last review, I implied that the best thing that could happen to Who would be cancellation- a chance for the show to end on a satisfying note rather than change into something it was never designed to be. As much as I love Who, I’ve arrived at that the conclusion that quality alone isn’t the issue. Even if every episode of the next few series ends up being as good as Wild Blue Yonder, it still can’t go on indefinitely- not with any integrity. The best stories in the world are still only truly satisfying in the moment you close the book, having experienced the full, majestic sweep of the narrative and understood what it was saying creatively and philosophically. TV shows aren’t exactly the same, since they’re less singular efforts and don’t have a single story to tell, but even they eventually have to shit or get off the pot, which means actually ending at some point. So yes, I’m glad showrunner RTD has hit his stride with Wild Blue Yonder, but trying to bottle lightning is never going to work reliably and it doesn’t change the fact that, sooner or later, something is going to have to give. So yeah: I’m still at ‘Let Gatwa have his time and then call an end to it’. One good episode- one really fucking good episode- isn’t enough to fix the show’s underlying problem. I mean, it can be a hiatus rather than fullblown cancellation, but Who still needs some kind of break. Sorry.

[burntotears]

Fanfic Origin Story

Tagged by @bekkachaos 💕

What was your first fandom (reading and/or writing)?

Popslash RPF - NSYNC

What was first story you ever wrote.

My main ship was Lance/Chris (Trickyfish), so it was most likely one for them. I wrote some Justin/Chris (Timbertrick) and Justin/Lance (Lamblove) too. I was 12 and everything I wrote was basically crack-fic or dark-fic where people were dying and shit. It was awful.

What's a piece of advice you would give your younger fic writing self?

Everything doesn't have to be devastating to be interesting. You can write something with a happy ending and it can still be interesting. But also, keep writing, because you'll get better.

What’s an early fandom interaction that stuck with you (be it a nice comment, a friend you made, a fic that got a lot of feedback)

Back in the Merlin, Legend of the Seeker, Lord of the Rings days I met this one Australian graphic artist who was super sweet and made a TON of stuff for me. She did all the banner work for us in the Merlin Slash Awards (which I ran), made us little banners when we participated in the fun little team contests for Disney, LotS, and LotR AND made me banners for my LiveJournal accounts. Just unbelievably kind and I am so sad that we fell out of touch.

The one amazing thing that really blew me away was the cover art she made me for my first multi-chapter long fic, Unsuitable, for the Merlin fandom. She's soooo talented and I still think about her.

Post a sentence or two from an older fic and a sentence or two from a newer one (if you want).

My first Sterek (and TW) fic, Be the Overflow

“A guy like you? That’s a load of bullshit and you know it. Erica said she had a crush on you for quite a while and you never even noticed her until she turned. For someone who knows what it feels like, Stiles, you sure are a huge fucking hypocrite. There are plenty of people who--” but Derek didn’t finish that sentence. Whatever it was he was about to say, he no longer wanted to say it.

“People who what? Who want to be my friend? Who want to laugh at my jokes but make out with the guy who’s hotter and a lot more mysterious? Someone more like Scott? Yeah, I know all about that, Derek, and I’d rather you didn’t call me a hypocrite before having all the facts, alright? How’s about we all just shut the hell up and stop talking about my non-existent love life because that would be really fucking swell right about now,” Stiles spat with a bit more venom than even he knew he possessed. He looked back down at the pipe and the rope and decided the task definitely needed his undivided attention now.

“You are completely full of it. You’re going to keep blaming other people for the fact that you can’t see the things that are right in front of your own goddamn face, so you know what? You deserve what you get, Stiles.” There was a hardness in Derek’s voice that Stiles couldn’t really place.

The Teen Malex AU, The Answer is Always "Okay."

Michael seemed better when Alex glanced up again. “Guerin… you wanna tell me what the fuck just happened?” Alex held up his wrist to indicate.

“I don’t - I don’t even know how to do that,” Michael said. He was afraid. Terrified, even. Alex couldn’t just see it on his face, though—it was something viscous seeping into his veins from inside Michael. He could feel it.

Alex stood up, moving the short distance across the shed. “Oh-okay, Guerin, you need to start talking. I know you’re freaked out or whatever, but so am I.”

Michael blinked and looked up at Alex as though he just realized he was there. “Oh shit.”

“Yeah, oh shit.” Alex rolled his eyes. “Rationally, I understand that my wrist is fixed. I get that you did something. So what I’m sorta gonna need you to fill me in on is how the fuck that is.”

Tagging these lovely folks if they would like 💕

@portraitofemmy @haloud @jule1122 @im-the-punk-who @angrycowboy @beautifulcheat @thesquidkid @bydayornight