#I'm starting to think I should just give up on fixing things myself and stick to asking my roommate for help

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 7, day 3

So my computer might be perma-ded, don't know yet, but here's more designing on that shirt design! Transparent this time so I can see the transparent effects better but they might not transparent correctly on the TeePublic upload. Idk, we'll see! But first I'm gonna finish cleaning this up and playing with effects until I like it so much I don't want to change anything :)

[saatorus]

she won't go away— a sukuna fic

art creds to to_0fu (twitter/x)

pairing — college sukuna! x reader

synopsis — of all the people in your chemistry course, you get stuck with ryomen sukuna—the most insufferable, arrogant asshole on campus. he barely does any work, runs his mouth like it’s a sport, and somehow manages to make your life even more exhausting than it already is. if this project doesn’t kill you, he just might.

teaser wc — 1.8k (long for a teaser but i'm desensitised to any word count below like 100k words)

actual wc — 20-25k (gonna try and force myself to stick to this and not go into the 30s..)

tag list status — closed! the fic has been posted

warnings — explicit sexual content!!! sukuna being an absolute vile dick and saying questionable shit (i need him to be at least a lil canon compliant), mentions of reader and sukuna telling each other to go die, reader not being meek and letting him walk all over her, mentions of feeling insecure, multiple crash outs, angst?? will add more as i go along!

“That ‘little homework’ is forty five percent of our grade,” you bite out.

“Don’t give a fuck,” he grunts, sounding bored.

You inhale deeply. “So, I was thinking—”

But he groans, dragging a tattooed hand down his face. “Are we seriously doing this now?”

“Yes, we’re seriously doing this now,” you snap.

He exhales sharply through his nose, glaring. “God, you’re fucking annoying.”

You’re not sure whether you should be offended or hurt. On one hand, obviously as a normal human being, being spoken to like this from a person you’re quite literally talking to for the first time is bound to hurt your feelings. On the other hand, this guy’s dickhead personality is kind of well known through your university. Your grip on your pen tightens, but you keep your voice even.

 “I’m annoying because I want to pass?”

”You’re annoying because you talk way too fuckin’ much.”

 That stings more than you’d like to admit.

You grit your teeth, ignoring the way your stomach tightens, and push forward anyway. “If we divide the research today, we won’t have to meet up as often,” you say, firmly. “I assume you’ll want to do as little work as possible, so let’s just—”

“Holy shit.” Sukuna pushes his chair back with a loud scrape, fixing you with an exasperated look. “Do you ever shut up?”

You blink, stunned.

Toji snickers.

“Oh, come on,” Sukuna scoffs, throwing up a hand. “You’re gonna sit there all wide-eyed like I just kicked your fuckin’ puppy? You started it.”

Your fingers twitch against the table.

“Started what?” you ask, voice dangerously calm.

“This whole thing—acting like I’m some bum ass delinquent who needs a babysitter.” His eyes narrow. “If you wanna play boss, go find some other loser to be a bitch to.”

Your patience snaps. “Or you could just not be a lazy asshole. Do you lack brain cells? You’ve seriously told me to shut up like 5 times in the span of about ten minutes. Do you have a problem where you can’t focus?”

The air between you shifts.

Sukuna’s jaw tics. His expression darkens, something sharp flashing through his eyes, but then his lips pull into something crueler than a smirk—something with edges, something dangerous.

“You think I’m lazy? Got somethin’ wrong with me because I can’t take your nerdy bitching?” he asks, voice low.

You hesitate, but only for a second. “Glad you have the ability to comprehend what I said.”

That makes him grin. “And you think I’m an asshole?”

“Yes.”

He hums, tilting his head. Then he leans forward, just slightly, elbows resting on the table. His voice drops into something smug, mocking—

“Then why the fuck are you still talking to me?”

Your blood boils.

What the fuck is his problem?

You lean forward too, matching him, refusing to shrink under his gaze. “Because I have to, dumbass,” you snap. “I tried to change my group. I begged. I offered to do extra credit. I would have written a whole goddamn thesis if it meant not sitting across from you—but guess what?” You gesture sharply between you. “I’m stuck with you.”

Sukuna raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Tragic.”

You let out a frustrated breath, gripping the edge of the table so hard your knuckles turn white. “So, as much as I’d love to pretend you don’t exist—”

“Then do it,” he interrupts, tone dry.

You blink. “What?”

“If you wanna pretend I don’t exist, go ahead,” he drawls, leaning back lazily. “Do the whole project yourself. You’ll probably enjoy it, since you’re clearly getting off on playing group leader.”

“Oh, my god.” You clench your fists, barely restraining yourself. “Why are you such a dickhead? Parents not teach you basic respect?”

“Because you don’t shut the fuck up,” he snaps, finally looking genuinely irritated.

Your lips part, incredulous. “I’m literally just trying to do the fucking project? Like any normal human being?”

“No, you’re trying to control shit,” Sukuna says flatly. “Like this is some big deal—like I haven’t passed a million of these useless classes already.”

You stare at him. “You think this is useless?”

He smirks. “Yeah.”

Oh, you hate him.

“Some of us actually give a shit about our grades, Sukuna.”

“You know my name? Cute.”

You inhale sharply through your nose, trying to stay calm, trying not to launch your textbook at his stupid, perfect face. “I don’t care how many classes you’ve passed,” you say, voice taut. “You’re doing this one with me. I care about this project. And if I have to suffer through working with you, you can at least pretend to give a shit.”

He tilts his head, mockingly thoughtful. “Mm. No.”

You exhale slowly, trying—failing—to stop your hands from curling into fists.

“I swear to god—”

“What, huh?” he cuts in, voice dripping with condescension. “You gonna whine to the professor again?” He lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Pathetic.”

Your jaw tightens.

He grins, like he’s won something. Like he’s getting exactly what he wants—like this is a game to him, something to toy with, something to waste his time on.

And you refuse to let him win.

So, you straighten your spine, lift your chin, and meet his gaze without flinching.

“Fine,” you say, voice steely. “If you want to half-ass this, be my guest. Just don’t expect me to pick up your slack.”

Sukuna watches you, amused, as if he’s waiting for you to crack.

When you don’t, he smirks.

“We’ll see.”

You inhale sharply, forcing yourself to keep your voice level.

“Well, unfortunately for you,” you say stiffly, “you actually have to do your share.”

Sukuna snorts. “Says who?”

“The professor.” You cross your arms. “Since apparently, students have been slacking on group projects, we have to submit proof of collaboration—meeting logs, progress updates, actual proof that we’re working together.”

His expression darkens.

You fight the urge to smirk. Suffer.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” he mutters.

“Nope.” You press your lips together, trying to hold back your pure satisfaction. “So, congratulations, Sukuna. You have to meet up with me at least once a week.”

He exhales sharply through his nose, glaring at you like you’re personally ruining his life. “You’re telling me I have to sit through this shit every week?”

“Yep.”

“You specifically?”

“Yep.”

Sukuna groans, dragging a hand through the unruly pink strands of his hair. Then, just as you’re about to remind him that this is literally his problem for being a shit student, he lifts his head—eyes raking over you in a slow, lazy once-over.

And then, he smirks.

You freeze.

“What?” you snap, immediately on edge.

His smirk widens.

“Nah, I was just thinking,” he drawls, tipping his head back against his chair. “If you were hotter, this would be way less painful.”

Your stomach drops.

The words hit you like a slap, and for a second, all you can do is sit there, stunned, completely caught off guard by how casual—how easy—it is for him to say something like that.

Like it’s just true.

Like it’s a fact.

Your fingers dig into your sleeve.

And the worst part? It’s not even the insult itself that stings—it’s the sheer, blatant dismissal. The fact that he looks at you and immediately decides you’re not worth even pretending to be interested in. As if you were hoping for his attention. As if you were seeking his approval.

You clench your jaw.

“Yeah?” you say, voice flat, emotionless. “Well, if you were smarter, I wouldn’t have to carry your useless ass through this class.”

His grin falters, just barely, but you see it—and for once, it’s your turn to smirk.

You lean forward, matching his posture, tilting your head mockingly.

“Guess we’re both disappointed, huh?”

For a moment, Sukuna just stares at you.

And you don’t miss the way his jaw tightens, how his fingers twitch against the table like he’s fighting the urge to rip you apart.

Good.

Then—he exhales sharply through his nose, tipping his chair back slightly, acting unfazed even though you saw the flicker of irritation in his eyes. “Damn,” he muses, voice slow, dragging. “Didn’t know you had a mouth on you.”

“Yeah?” You tilt your head. “Didn’t know you gave a shit.”

Sukuna scoffs. “I don’t.”

“Then shut the fuck up and do your work.”

He lets out a low, mean laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today.”

“Generous?” You nearly choke. “You’ve been nothing but a dick since the moment I sat down.”

He shrugs, unbothered. “Could be worse.”

Oh, you want to strangle him.

Instead, you inhale sharply through your nose, pressing your palms flat against the table before forcing yourself to stay on track. “Whatever,” you say, shaking your head. “Here’s the deal: we have to meet at least once a week. I don’t care where. I don’t care when. But we need to get the work done, and I need proof that you were actually present—because if we don’t, we both fail.”

Sukuna glares at you, as if the very concept of responsibility offends him.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face again. “You’re really gonna be a hardass about this, huh?”

You raise an eyebrow. “You don’t care about failing?”

“Not really.”

Your eyes narrow. “Then why are you even in this class?”

At this, he finally drops his chair back down onto all four legs, leaning in slightly. “Let’s get one thing straight,” he says, voice lower, more serious. “I don’t need this shit. I’m here because my old man thinks I should at least pretend to give a fuck about college.” He smirks, sharp and taunting. “But don’t get it twisted—I don’t actually give a fuck.”

You pause, studying him, trying to piece together the weight behind his words.

Of course, you know he comes from money. Everyone does. The Ryomen family name carries weight, old money, power, prestige—so it makes sense that college, for him, is just some bullshit obligation rather than a means to a future.

Still, something about the way he says it—how bitter it sounds—sticks with you.

Not that you care.

You roll your eyes. “Right. Got it. Poor little rich boy.”

His smirk drops.

For a second, there’s silence.

Then—

“You know what?” Sukuna says, voice eerily calm. “Fine. I’ll meet up with you.”

You blink, a little thrown off by how easily he gives in.

“…Okay?”

“But.” His gaze darkens, and the corner of his mouth twitches, almost like he’s daring you to argue. “You work around my schedule.”

Your stomach twists with irritation. “That’s not—”

“Not my problem,” he cuts in smoothly, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t do morning meetups. I don’t do last-minute bullshit. And if you start bitching about how I ‘don’t take this seriously,’” he mocks, voice lilting high, “I will walk out and leave you with an automatic fail. Or whatever the fuck happens to your grade if the other person doesn’t do their part. Got it?”

Your blood boils.

But what can you do? You already tried to get reassigned.

So, through gritted teeth, you say, “Fine.”

Sukuna smirks.

“Good girl.”

a/n: very overused trope but i love college au sukuna. sorry for making him a total asshole but i promise character development!!!!! i looove a good enemies to lovers, as seen with my take on nerdjo lolol!!! also yes this fic is based on "she won't go away" by faye webster and yes this song and it's lyrics will be making a cameo in my fic heheh... hope you all liked the teaser!!

[jd-loves-fiction]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐫

🌑 got lost in the sauce again... The horny sauce this time😭 I love this menace so much it's not funny and the amount of fics for him is honestly criminal so I'm fixing it myself ENJOY!!! :)

⚠️: Spoilers for the Wardance quests, oral sex (m!receiving), not beta read

The cunning fox is never far. Even blinded he finds a way to get to you no matter where you’ve moved – you suspect it has something to do with those exceedingly sharp senses.

“Isn't it a bit early to be cooking?” Jiaoqiu questions softly as he enters the kitchen, hands gravitating to your waist like metal to a magnet, edging under your shirt to drag his nails over your skin. Keeping the knife in your hand steady is a harder task than he ever made it seem when he was the one doing the cooking, “This is just prep, plus aren't you hungry?”

He hums lowly right by your ear, sending shivers down your spine while his ear flicks against your cheek. By the way he sneaks a nail beneath your waistband you know his intentions are anything but innocent. Though you have been neglecting him…

Just as the thought of giving in to him forms in your distracted mind, the bandages still wrapped around your lover’s chest brush against the back of your arms, “You should still be resting.”

He groans in protest, nose burying even deeper into the side of your neck as his hips push lightly against yours while the shadow of his tail flicks in irritation, “Not tired and I’m no cub, no need to treat me like one.”

You sigh heavily, putting the knife down to avoid an accident. The wounds have been closing steadily for some time now and given Foxian's accelerated healing he should be safe to start moving around more, but there’s also the issue of his vision. The last thing you want is to jump right into it like before and overwhelm his senses when he’s still getting used to them again.

The sharp sting of a fang nibbling your ear rips you away from such thoughts, as intended, “Come on, I miss you so much, dear.” he purrs it in that way he knows gets you weak in the knees and bending to his will most of the time. Just not today.

“Jiaoqiu, you know we can't. No matter how much I want to.” You spare a fleeting thought to the fact that the irresponsible one in this situation is the healer out of the two of you.

Said healer goes quiet for a second, huffing in frustration before dropping his head onto your shoulder and that should be it. You think he’s given up – not a chance.

He grumbles to himself as he peels his chest away from your back, teasingly brushing his fluffy tail along your back as he turns. Soft steps are cut off by the loud sound of Jiaoqiu hitting a chair with his shin after misjudging the distance. He raises his hand just as you go to ask if he’s alright, as if feeling your eyes on him.

The pink-haired Foxian sits heavily, legs spread in what would seem like relaxation if not for the hard-on clearly visible beneath the fabric of his loose pants, chest bound with (thankfully) clean bandages.

He opens his eyes to reveal that mesmerizing golden gaze, even though it does not change the fact that he cannot see – he knows what it does to you, “I guess I’ll just get off all by myself.”

Your breath hitches – you know he hears it with how his ear twitches and his lips shift into a pleased smirk, lithe hand drifting purposely slow down his own body. Eyes lingering on his bandages and remembering the awful scars beneath, your hesitation persists, even as you abandon your cooking to watch him. 

His hand slips underneath the waistband of his pants as he breathes heavy. All you see is the suggestion of what he’s doing beneath the fabric, neck muscles twitching and tensing as he grips his cock.

Shit. Your self-control is not strong enough for this, “Jiaoqiu…”

“W-What? You can keep cooking, dear. I hope I’m not distracting y-you.” He stutters, sweat sliding down his long neck from where his hair sticks to his skin while his hand speeds up. A sharp canine digs into his plush bottom lip and stars you wish that was you.

“For a healer, you’re being very irresponsible,” You scold, hands gripping the cold counter behind you, “As a healer, denying yourself the satisfaction you crave is much more d-detrimental.” 

Him and his clever comebacks. You know full well that the two cannot compare, but you’re past caring at this point. Turning your head up to the ceiling you take a deep steadying breath, weighing your options once more, “Baby, please…”

Fuck it, “You’re a terrible influence, you know that?” he smirks like he’s got you exactly where he wants you, knowing you’re finally giving into him.

Your steps are large and hurried as you make your way to him, kneeling in between his legs without hesitation and lightly pushing his hand away from himself, all while he grins infuriatingly pretty, tail curling from side to side in anticipation.

Taking his cock out into the open air, he takes a deep, steadying breath through his teeth, hands gripping the back of his chair to ground himself. You just hope he won't regret this immediately.

But you can't deny that you’ve missed this – missed him. Your mind has been so crowded with concern and desperation that you haven't even allowed yourself to think of him in such a way for a while now. No wonder he’s feeling this needy, and the fact that you basically have to help him to do every little thing now surely isn't helping his case. You can't imagine all that’s running though his mind since he’s refused to mention the incident since the night he returned home, but you can guess that it’s like a storm in there.

Doesn't mean you’ll go easy on him though.

Wrapping your lips around the head of cock, you relish in the shaky moan that leaves his bitten lips, along with the way his hands twitch – wanting to hold your head and pull you along as he wishes.

All your movements are torturously slow, on purpose – you’ll show him what he gets when he’s being a menace, injured or not.

“Come on, dear. Faster…” He whimpers beautifully, hoping to tempt you into listening from his honeyed tone alone. And though a spike of arousal does make its way between your legs, you’re not one to give in so easily, “What’s wrong? I thought you liked teasing.”

Jiaoqiu’s brow twitches in annoyance, smirk wavering at your gall – words so innocent and yet so biting. He’ll get what you give him at the pace you want, or he’ll get nothing at all.

“If you feel like it’s too much, tell me.” You remind him gently and he nods in understanding. And then, you’re taking him down as far as you can and he nearly chokes on his own breath, a loud moan punched out of throat at the sudden wave of pleasure that rolls through all of his nerve endings.

You pull back a moment later, letting him catch his breath before beginning again, gentler this time, pulling him apart slowly and lovingly. You want to whisper all the reassurances he needs to hear – how good he is, how pretty he sounds, how you love him and all his teasing and how you just want him safe and healthy…

How seeing him in such a state that night nearly broke you. But your mouth is a tad bit busy for so many words, so you settle for rubbing soft circles onto his thigh as you work.

Jiaoqiu pants heavily, eyes squeezed shut with parted lips which let saliva slip between them and down his chin – utterly lost in the way your mouth wraps around him after so long without any such affection, “Please, I’m so–”

He cuts himself off with a resounding moan and under your hands you feel the strength that it takes for him to keep his hips from bucking up into your mouth, pleasured sounds growing in frequency and volume as you speed up, taking him deeper and sealing your lips tighter. 

A high-pitched, pitiful cry of your name is followed by the warmth of his cum sliding down your throat, pleasant in its taste as you always expect. You part from him slowly, offering comforting pets to his thigh as he winces in oversensitivity. 

“Will you let me cook lunch now?”

[vhstown]

ain't no love; pt. 4

"ain't no love 'cause you ain't around"

— miles g morales x gn!reader series

SERIES SUMMARY: Miles G Morales is just a kid without a father; the Prowler is just a "rotten" vigilante. Both of them start coming into your life — one in the middle of the semester, the other by total accident.

SERIES MASTERLIST 📼 ← PART 3 / PART 4 / PART 5 ->

chapter summary: [DUAL POV] This was probably not how sophomore year was supposed to go.

content/warnings: mentions of death and loss, mentions of vaping (😭) and depictions of violence

word count: 4.0k

a/n: hi ive had. a very interesting year of high school myself my bad for the wait 😭 thank u all 4 sticking around for... a YEAR??? and thank u @/qiuweyballs for the proofread as always my guy and there will probably be a part 5 and an epilogue after this part ermmm yea 4 parts is not it guys

"Jesus Christ…"

By the look on your face, you were probably thinking the same thing.

"Miles…" Your voice was a whisper, eyes still fixed at the gym doors. “What the hell is going on?"

His arms fell to his sides in response. All the same questions you were going to ask were circulating through his head already, but he didn't have a single answer in response. His chest was beginning to hurt as he held his breath, thinking of what to say — what to do.

"Mijo, someone's calling you. Is this your friend?”

"Mami, uh, yeah, from school."

"¿Se llamas 'pana'? ¿Es latino? (You call them 'buddy'? Are they latino?) Wait—! Why did you hang up?"

"I'll call 'em back later, 's not that serious right now."

"Oy, ¡no seas maleducado! (don't be rude!) I'm sure your friend wants to talk to you."

"Right, yeah. Totally. Right when we're about to see dad."

"You have to make time for people, Miles. I know you're busy with school, but you can't expect anything from others if you don't give."

"Lo sé, mamí." (I know, mom.)

"If only you showed it! You might smart in your academics, but in real li—"

"Alright, alright! I'll call back later…!"

“I'll tell you later,” is what came out of his mouth, his eyes at his hands, which disappeared into his pockets. Some friend he was.

“I’m not goin’ to Visions to make friends, Uncle Aaron.”

“Nobody's putting it against you if you do.”

“Nobody would have to.”

Miles noticed your expression again, eyebrows furrowed at his answer. It lacked any semblance of the person he’d come to know. That grit, that quick-thinking look in your eyes, the one he saw when you faced Rafael, when you pulled the alarms at Oscorp… that look that told him that even if something were to happen to you, you’d somehow make it out in one piece — totally missing.

Some god damn vigilante, pulling you into his sh*t.

"I think you should head back."

The words felt useless, tumbling out of his mouth and landing by his feet. Some part of him hoped you'd run before he could see the mistrust in your eyes.

"What are you talking about?” you respond, finally meeting his eyes.

What were you talking about?

"I've seen him before, Miles. That guy… Wellston… You don't get it, he—"

"You two!"

Miles winced, realising he’d bit his tongue. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the sudden voice, or the fact that he almost told you “I know.” It didn't really matter, he decided. Weber didn't look very pleased.

"Are we loitering here, or are we actually going to go and volunteer?" Neither of you could manage an apology as you made a start for the gym.

With the clack of Ms. Weber’s heels behind you two, Miles reached into his pocket, he pulled his phone out.

Home late today, got that job fair Delivered Tqm mami Delivered

Today was going to be a long day.

"What are you mumbling to yourself about?" you whispered, the sharp of your elbow brushing his arm.

"Nothing," he mutters, pressing his lips shut. Talking to himself like a crazy person definitely wasn't helping his case here.

"What do we do?”

"We?" It was his turn to give you an incredulous look.

"We, us, me and you. Does it matter? That thing is at a high school job fair, Miles—"

“If you don't find a way to leave…” he murmured through his teeth, turning and catching Weber's gaze for a moment too long. Right. Her. "You know what? Just trust me."

“Trust you to do what?”

“I’m gonna leave. You’re gonna stay right here.“

“What? Why?”

Beep!

With the tap of Weber’s key card by the doors, tacky decorations, dreary fluorescent lights and stands in various stages of being set up came into view. Visions’ state-of-the-art careers fair. Miles shut his eyes for a moment, squeezing the ache out of them.

“ENROL IN OUR STUDENT PROGRAM TODAY!” read a stand above a picture of young people in lab coats, all smiling in strangely the exact same way. Oscorp still had the balls to come, of course. The actual young people at the stand looked much less enthusiastic than their pictured counterparts, their supervisor barking orders.

“Young Leaders: Get into politics!” — “Apprenticeships at Fisk Industries” — “Join the future of tech with BESTMAN TELECOM”.

Nothing like a bit of colourful text to cover up a couple of questionable practices.

“JOIN US” one read, rather simply. The PDNY.

Miles’ eyes lingered on the smooth police blue behind the pictured police officers. It was the same blue that he’d seen in adverts on the subway, peeking out from graffitied billboards, on his dad’s uniform.

He wondered what had happened to his dad’s co-worker. He wondered what the hell a man with the bright yellow visitor’s badge was doing pretending to be Police Constable Daniella Williams at some random school careers fair.

“JOIN US”.

He wondered if his dad had seen the same poster he was looking at right now.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Make yourselves useful!” Right. Weber.

You followed him as he walked into the gym, right past the PDNY stand.

He didn’t know how he was going to break it to you that this was probably going to be the last time you'd see him — at least, at school.

If the Prowler was good at one thing, it was hiding.

Wellston, Williams, Stromm…

As hard as you tried, everything was hopelessly melding together in your head. Amidst the dull murmur of people getting things together, all you could think of was that melting face back at Oscorp, every crevice burned into your memory by the light of the Prowler's blast.

You tried to avoid looking at the woman, as if she'd deform before your eyes as soon as you did. You’d met P.C. Williams before, back when you were a freshman and this fair was actually meant for you. She still had the same cropped hair and thick glasses. Well, this thing did, anyway.

Miles wasn’t looking at you right now. It was good that he wasn’t, you thought. There was a crease between his brows, one he had when he was thinking of what to write in English Lit, or frowning at his phone in the hallways. You had no idea what he was thinking about right now, though.

“You're leaving?” you muttered, despite yourself.

The boy took in a breath, but the sigh you expected didn’t follow.

“I’m gonna leave, and you’re gonna cover for me.”

“To do what? Are you gonna call the cops or something?”

Stupid idea.

“Stupid idea," he replies, shaking his head.

I was gonna say that, damn it.

What if he somehow knew this shapeshifter person? You shook the thought from your head — he’d been just as shocked as you had when he saw Wellston shapeshift.

But he was the one to pull you into that hiding spot in the first place — almost like he’d been anticipating it. He went with you to the extra class too. He went on the subway with you even though he seemed to get more irritated every stop you passed, and he clearly didn’t live that far out.

“Miles,” you started, eyes narrowing at him, even if he wasn’t looking at you. “Are you—”

“Morales!” A flicker of annoyance tinged the boy’s expression as he turned to face the source of the voice.

Emerging through the crowd — buzz cut, shiny earrings, colourful suit —Principal Evans stepped into the space between you two.

“Could I talk with you a minute?” Her lips were pressed into an impossibly thin line.

“…Sure.” Miles turned away, but not before giving you an awkward look. For a second, it convinced you that you two were back in AP Calc, and Wellston was going on a tangent about something a little too personal again.

“Don’t you got somewhere to be?” The look Principal Evans gave you was more expectant.

You nodded by instinct, walking away before you could say anything at all.

Finding yourself at the back wall of the gymnasium, concealed rather poorly by the tacky banking stand, you turned to see “The Daily Bugle” in fancy serif, the trumpet logo plastered everywhere it would fit. A red-haired woman pinning up some papers glanced back and smiled at you. She was pretty, eye makeup immaculate and lipstick as clean as her smile — a journalist, of course.

“Are you here to help?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah…” you mumbled out, straightening out your shoulders. The least you could do right now was be useful, while hoping Evans wouldn't keep Miles too long.

“Good, because the kid who was supposed to help out here just up and disappeared.” She let out out a laugh, the professional edge in her smile softening. It eased your nerves just a little. “Mind helping me out with these? I’m Mary Jane Watson, by the way — just MJ right now, though. I'm a journalist at the Bugle.”

“Sure, MJ.” You smiled back, a little dubiously, before reaching for some of the papers.

“NOTORIOUS CRIMINAL PROWLER SPOTTED AT OSCO—”

“Nope,” you whispered under your breath, picking out another headline.

“Did you say something?” MJ asked.

“Oh, no, nothing.”

You bit your lip, flicking through the papers. “Where’d the other kid go?”

“I have no idea. He wanted to use the bathroom, but it’s been 20 minutes. Pretty sure his name was Rafael.”

“Rafa—” The paper flopped, half-open in your hands. “Oh…”

“Was that a bad idea? Is he notorious at your school or something?” she jokes. You manage a sort-of grin.

“Kinda? I didn’t think he’d be at the careers fair.” Rafael of all people… “Are you the only one here?”

“Pretty much. It was my idea to come, everyone’s busy at the Bugle, right?”

“Probably, yeah.”

Miles was still talking to Evans. Whatever he was going to do, you had to cover for it… Did you really? What if you were covering for something crazy? What was crazier than this? Was he just going to ditch you? Why was he talking to Principal Evans all the time anyway?

“Mary— MJ,” you started.

“Yeah?”

“Do you… would you happen to know anything about Oscorp? You know, with the Prowler…”

“Oh, I wish. Oscorp’s been dead silent. Everything’s 'just speculation' for now.”

“Why are they sure it's the Prowler, then? Couldn’t it have been someone else?” Like, the weird shape shifting monster thing?

“He’s been a big problem for Oscorp lately. A security breach doesn’t seem too out of character for him.”

“Security breach?”

“No details on that, unfortunately. Are you interested in journalism, or just curious?”

“Just curious…" you reply, a weird laugh leaving your mouth. "Who knows, though?”

Like you’d ever willingly go into the press — at least, not the Bugle. J. Jonah Jameson and his conspiracies were not at the top of your job prospects.

“That looks good," MJ says, giving you a nod as you straightened out the display of leaflets and little trinkets on the table. “Glad you came by — I don’t think the other kid’s coming back, though.”

“Yeah, probably not…”

Eyes falling on the exit, you saw someone waving as they made their way out — a woman in a police uniform.

P.C. Williams.

Miles was still talking to Evans. He looked frustrated, almost upset, even — definitely not noticing what was going on right now.

“Uh, Mary— I mean, MJ. I’m… just gonna use the bathroom real quick.”

“Oh, uh, okay. Just make sure to come ba—”

Sorry, MJ.

Walking right by Miles’ field of view, and with Principal Evans’ back to you, you mouthed what you hoped would come across as “HE’S LEAVING” as the doors shut behind Williams.

“Where are you going?” A girl with her hair in an erratic half-bun and crossed arms stopped you, standing in front of the door. Great. Maybe you’d have to start hating these seniors more than the freshmen.

“Bathroom,” you mumbled, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice.

“That’s what the last guy said,” remarked a boy much taller than the girl, hair coloured in a way that probably wasn’t allowed at school. He was also crossing his arms. Tweedledee and tweedledum.

“No, you don’t get it, I really gotta go—”

“You can't wait for 10 minutes?” the girl replied, a demeaning furrow in her brows.

“I—” You swallowed, realising you were wasting time. He could be anywhere, or any-one right now.

Click!

“Hey!”

Doors shutting behind you and feet carrying you past the changing rooms, you dashed outside, ushering past the growing congregation of freshmen and hoping you weren’t being followed right now.

Wellston was walking into the main reception.

Walking closer, you could make out just who was leaving the reception: a woman in a police uniform, visitor’s badge in hand.

P.C. Williams. You felt like you were losing it.

Feet stuck to the ground, you could only stare as she approached you.

“Hey, sorry, you’re a student here, right?” She gave you a smile, looking around briefly. “Which way is the job fair? I always lose my way around here.”

“Um…” You blinked a little uselessly. “Over—”

“It’s that way. Big blue and yellow sign. Can't miss it”

You turned to see Miles, thumb pointing towards the gymnasium.

“Thank you!” The woman nodded at him, before walking away.

When she was far enough, Miles turned to you.

“What’d you see?” he said, reaching into his pocket. You tried to recount it.

“I— Wellston just left from the reception. At the exact same time as that police lady— Who are you texting right now?”

Miles was tapping away at his phone incessantly, pausing to look up at you when you stopped talking. When he saw your less-than amused expression, he almost sheepishly looked back down at his phone again.

“Hello? Earth to Morale—”

“Just gimme a sec, damn!”

You could tell he was trying to school the frustration on his face, the way his cheek in from biting the inside of his mouth.

“…That's it,” he suddenly muttered out loud.

“What? That's what?”

“That guy's the…” Miles presses his lips together, stopping himself.

“The what?” You almost wanted to shout at him, but it probably wasn't a good idea considering that

“The Chameleon, Jesus, are you—” He let out an exasperated breath, running a hand over his face. You were glad he didn’t finish that sentence. “He’s involved with the Sinister Six.”

"Isn't the Prowler part of the Sinister Six too? It's looking a lot more than six people lately, Miles."

"The Prowler's not a part of the Sinister Six."

"What's the difference? I know you're into comics and stuff, but these aren't supervillains, they're real criminals!"

“Rude.”

"Like you haven't been!"

You let out a groan as he continues with his phone, looking behind you two occasionally.

“Who the hell is the Chameleon anyway?”

“Shapeshifter. In prison eight years ago. In schools now, for some damn reason.”

“We were eight eight years ago, why do you even know that?”

"Do you not watch the news?"

"Rude."

It's his turn to groan, shaking his head.

"Who are you texting?"

"My uncle." You were half-expecting him to say his mom.

“What's your uncle gonna do? Is he a police officer too?”

His jaw shifts at that, before you both notice the forboding presence in the distance.

Principal Evans.

“Look, my mom’s real sick and I had to leave, got it?”

As soon as the words left, he did too, sprinting straight for the reception.

“Oh my God…” you muttered under your breath, hand pressed against your forehead, waiting for your next impending doom.

“You.” Defeatedly, you turned to the woman, her arms crossed. She had Rafael standing next to her, who looked even more defeated. “Just where did you run off to?”

“The bathroom—”

“Do not lie to me.” You tried not to wince at her tone. “There are bathrooms in the gymnasium.”

“I thought they were locked, so I… went to my dorm’s bathroom.” The woman furrowed her brows at you, as if trying to get something more out of you. The breath was still in your throat, hoping your terrible lie would hold up.

“Your dorm's bathroom… And where’s Morales?”

You felt Rafael’s eyes on you for a moment.

“His, uh…” You tried to recall what garbage excuse he’d just told amongst the muddle in your head. “His mom’s sick or something, I dunno, he had to go home…”

“Right. I’ll be makin’ sure to call her.”

Sorry, Miles. Sorry, MJ. Sorry, Principal Evans. Better start practising your apologies now.

It was his problem. Kind of definitely yours too.

“The fair’s about to start, I need y’all back in there this instant. And Ortiz, you’re goin’ straight to my office.”

Despite the nagging urge to poke fun at Rafael, the two of you walked back in silence. You had a rough idea of what he was off doing, considering the overwhelming smell of artificial strawberry coming from him. Maybe Evans would finally expel him. Vaping wasn't the most noble way to go, though.

Regardless, it was his problem. You wondered why it felt like it was yours too. Maybe it was because you were both in trouble, or because you somehow got involved in everyone's problems regardless. To think you'd finally get used to this school in sophomore year.

“Are you interested in journalism, or just curious?

"Just curious. Who knows, though?"

Maybe MJ could help — after a little apology, probably.

"We can't go after him right now."

"Why not?" MIles murmurs into his phone as he fumbles with the hoodie and mask he'd hastily thrown on. The receptionist hadn't been at the desk, but he did not want his face in someone's line of sight.

"That might not even be him, Miles."

"I thought his victims were supposed to be dead."

"One's definitely alive."

"Yeah, and she's at the fair. Wellston didn't even show up to class."

"Your ma's gonna be happy." God damn it. He could already hear her lecture. Mijo, sneaking out of school?!

"Shut up," he mutters, to nobody in particular.

"Don't talk to me like that, Miles."

"Sorry."

He turns into the main street, spotting Wellston. Looks like he hadn't shape-shifted yet. The streets were flooded with school kids now. Some were piling out of his old middle school, pulling faces and make strange noises at him. Still the same as ever.

"You still following him?"

"Trying."

Moles were made for hiding. This one was steadily speeding his way through the crowd as Miles tried to match his pace. There were just a few more by-streets to pass before the station, meaning he'd have to make his move before he'd lose the chance to.

As a new flood of people came through, Miles found himself just a foot or two away. With a quick jut of his elbow, the man's briefcase-looking bag came tumbling off of his shoulder, kicked around on the pavement by a million people's feet. Miles pummeled the bag with a kick, and it spinned easily into the darkness of the nearby alley, as if it weighed nothing. Wellston looked at him with uncertain eyes, as if he'd derived some shred of what was going on, but started walking for the alleyway anyway.

"I got him, don't even worry about it," he murmurs into his phone, before following him, feet silent against the concrete. He can make out the faint sigh of his uncle as the sound of the city temporarily fades away.

As Wellston reached down to pick up his bag, Miles shoved the man to the wall, his body obscured from view by a dumpster. As he scrambled to face him, Miles' foot pinned him right back where he was, dug right against his stomach.

"Huh, what a—"

"If you scream, you're not coming out of this damn alleyway," he taunts, shoving his phone in his pocket so his uncle couldn't hear how terribly he was deepening his voice right now.

"Okay, okay. What do you want? My wallet? Here—" The man let out an uncomfortable grunt as Miles forced his foot a little harder against him.

"I want to know who you are." Aside from the creepy ass teacher following my friend around.

"Who I…? I—I'm William. William Wellston. I'm twenty-six and work at Brooklyn Vi—" The man's face scrunched up in pain at the sudden tilt of Miles' foot against the bend of his torso.

He could hear the quiet crack of claws, somewhere in the distance. So his uncle had shown up.

"Wrong answer. One more chance."

"Alright, alright! I'm… God, why me…?" If the man took any longer, Miles was sure he was going to put his other foot into the equation. "I'm Garrett. Garrett East. I used to be an accountant at Manhattan Tax Services."

Garrett… who the f*ck now?

"Who's William Wellston, then?"

"I… oh my God, I deserve this, don't I? He's… another guy. I stole his identity. His life."

"How so?"

"You… you're not going to tell anyone, right? I am dead if my boss finds out. And that's not that Evans lady."

"You're dead if you don't cough it up right now."

Miles was expecting the Chameleon to be a little more formidable for an international criminal, but the tiny, indignant little squeak that came out of his mouth was less than.

"Oh my god, okay! I'm… my boss is… he's really good at costumes, and fixed me up to look like this guy — I didn't know he was dead, okay!"

"Costumes…? Don't lie to me."

"I'm serious! I mean, uh, this is sort of a costume, but I look like this every day now."

"You're not a shapeshifter?"

"I'm not a… what?" The man's exasperated expression turned to one that of what appeared to be… genuine confusion. It almost felt like Miles had been slapped in the face.

"…What did I tell you, Chameleon? Don't lie to me. Or is he your boss?"

"Chameleon? What… No, my boss is… My boss is a guy called Dmitri. Couldn't tell you his last name, it's Russian I think."

"Dmitri Smerdyakov." Damn name ain't even that hard. "So… the Chameleon."

"I don't know who the Chameleon is—"

"Where were you at 3:00pm today?" Wellston was missing from class, that's for sure.

"I… My boss told me to leave and… hide out. I had a class at the time, but he sounded angry so I didn't want to argue. I'm… kind of fired now."

"For one class?"

"He's made me do that a lot of times. Told me to give him my keycard and… look I don't know, okay! This Dmitri guy, you wouldn't want to know him. And my life is basically over, for the second time."

The man looked at Miles as if he was going to break down crying, and the boy felt a lot more awkward as he tried to piece things together before that happened.

"Where's your boss?"

"I don't… please. I don't know. I don't know who you are either!"

Before Miles could even let out a breath, a purple-green flurry whizzed by his peripheral, followed by a thump of feet. One clink of the metal claws got the man spluttering.

"Okay, okay! He's the Chameleon, the shapeshifter! He's been taking my place, and, uh, he's trying to take over this kid's life too! He's, Jesus, please don't hurt me. You're the Prowler aren't you…? The two of… oh god."

Miles could care less about being identified right now, or the fact that it took his uncle about 2 seconds to get more information out of this bastard that had been lying to him for 2 minutes straight. This kid. He felt his chest tighten.

"This kid?" he mumbled, knowing his uncle wouldn't respond. He had to keep up the strong and silent schtick, as he put it. Now was not the time to marvel at the corniness of that, though. "Who?"

Miles thought he might be sick when he heard what came out of the miserable man's mouth.

It was your name.

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[mins-fins]

hold me tight

&&. yes it took you a good couple of years, but it's nothing making out in a pool can't fix!

pairing: na jaemin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, sorta kinda sorta suggestive

warnings: kissing (is that a warning?)

word count: 1.4k

notes: this is a snippet from a longer form thing that i have given up on, but anyway, who else loves na jaemin?? if we ignore the fact that i only learned how to swim like one week ago….. i really like pools now that im not almost drowning every few business minutes 😁 i also really like na jaemin, and my last nana work was angst so i have to make it up to you all ⭐️ also, sort of kissing writing practice, it's terrible, don't focus on it pls xoxo

your arms are crossed as you slide the glass door open.

"jaemin".

"hm?"

you sigh, a heavy breath leaving your lips. he giggles, escaping your scathing stare by diving under the water. your corresponding groan gives him yet another thing to smile about, even when he's attempting to hide from you in chenle's pool. "how the fuck are you swimming at eleven pm?"

when jaemin rises again, he snickers, somehow able to keep his composure after almost inhaling a bunch of chlorine. "it's fun, y/n, why do you nag me so much?"

"i'm not nagging, i just need to make sure you don't get hypothermia".

he pouts like a child being punished. "your boring y/n" he sings, smile still tugging at his lips as he lays on his back, basking in the water that keeps him afloat.

you again sigh, rolling your eyes as you sit down at the edge of the pool, legs crossed. "and you act like a child, jaemin".

though he would usually feign offense at such words, it seems a switch flips in his head, and he swims his way over to you, leaning his arms against the ground you sit on. "you love me, though".

you chuckle, now that's amusing. "do i?"

jaemin hums, nodding, smile unmoving as traces shapes into your leg. "you do, that's why you aren't snitching on me to chenle".

you scrunch your nose at the feeling of his wet finger on your body. "what are you gonna do if i don't follow that?"

"strangle you, maybe".

the threat is said with such certainty that you laugh, because there's a hidden sense of playfulness behind the warning. "you can't strangle me, you need me".

he scoffs, pinching your knee and chuckling at the yelp he receives. "you sound like jeno".

"is that an insult?"

"you two are just as desperate as each other, so.. yeah!"

your eye roll is stuck to you at this point, maybe you simply expect such words from your best friend, because it doesn't exactly furrow your eyebrows as much as it makes you giggle. you slap jaemin's hand away from your leg, childishly sticking out your tongue at him. "your a bastard".

"i'm being honest, come in with me?"

now it's your turn to scoff, listening to the rhythmic whistles and silent splashes of water. "no, you're crazy".

"oh come on! you aren't leaving me to entertain myself alone, are you?"

"i can entertain you while being dry".

he narrows his eyes, arms crossing over his chest underwater. "you are boring".

you click your tongue; "how sad".

"y/n!" he's quick to whine. "how are you going to come out here to nag me then not get in the water?"

"well i didn't come out here to swim".

"then you should leave".

he pouts again, and you sigh again. it's always like this with na jaemin isn't it?

you roll your eyes as he starts staring at you with that look. "okay fine, i'm sorr— AHH!"

your statement is suddenly cut off when he uses his superhuman strength to pull you down from your place, and you fall face first into the pool with a huge splash.

when you finally come to, jaemin only stares at you with that same shit eating grin. "oh you assho—"

"hey! you can't punch me in chenle's pool!"

"and whose gonna stop me?"

you yelp again when he splashes water in your direction, just barely closing your eyes in enough time to avoid the water attempting to enter them. "you think your sooooo funny huh?"

"hilarious, even".

you grimace, shaking your head aggressively back and forth in an attempt to get some of the water out of your hair. "fuck you".

jaemin frowns again, but he can barely hold in his snicker, and now it's your turn to cross your arms underwater. he moves his hair strands out of his face, staring at you for a weirdly long time. "i mean.. you look pretty like this".

you deadpan, cheeks just barely flaring up at the words. he says it all the time, y/n, it's not weird..

but na jaemin himself is weird, so you shouldn't be thinking all that into it.

"are you flattering me so i don't murder you?"

he snickers, looking down, seemingly as nervous about it as you are. "oh so i'm not allowed to compliment you now?"

"you're a weirdo, i always have to question what you do".

jaemin gasps loudly, clear offense in his tone, you can barely hide your smile as you see his reaction. maybe it's a bit strange how his eyes linger on your smile, but what can he say? it's pretty, he needs to make you laugh again.

"y/n".

you blink, staring at your best friend with eyes full of desire. did the outside air just turn up in temperature? it can not be this hot in early march. "yes?"

he hesitates for a moment, as if contemplating his words, which is probably the strongest sight to ever meet your eyes, because when na jaemin wants to say something, he says it. you sometimes forget he even has a thought process with how abrupt he is.

"can i kiss you?"

maybe it's the way it falls from his lips so naturally, or maybe it's the way his lips press together, they do look particularly soft, his constant use of lip balm clearly paying off.

you stare, the air getting significantly hotter, the water should be combatting that, right? your super attractive best friend who you totally harbor no romantic feelings towards just asked for permission to kiss you.

you chuckle. "in chenle's pool? really?"

your stalling, trying to correctly collect your word as your wondrous, beautiful best friend, na jaemin himself, stares at you like you're the only person in the world. has his gaze always been that heavy? when did your hands begin getting so clammy? what if you simply trust fall back into the water and drown? maybe it would be easier to avoid the awkwardness of this situation then..

"hey, when you have a chance you take it".

you laugh again, he really is something. you don't say more, simply pull him forward by his shoulder, finger itching to trace the skin of his bare chest. not before the kiss y/n, have some composure.

jaemin traces his fingers over the line of your jaw, and he pulls you in. his other hand slides down to your right hip, drawing a small squeak from you as your hands move up to his hair.

he wants to savor the moment, take a picture of it and hang it on his wall, there's a certain hunger in the way he groans against your lips, thumbs caressing the sides of your cheek. your arms are quick to wrap around his neck, still feeling the hairs on the back of his neck.

"you're so eager".

"you're the one who asked" you breath, gritting your teeth. "and besides—" you lean forward to take his lips again, the heat of his body transferring to yours. "—you wanted this as much as me didn't you?"

your desperation is quick to manifest, it manifests in the way you exhale sighs and whines, it's just something with na jaemin.

you two slowly.. swim(?) backward, your back hitting the surface of the pool wall. "oh chenle is going to kill us".

jaemin snickers. "why? it's not like were fucking in the pool".

you stare at him incredulously, of course he had to bring that up out of all things, but your face still heats up, and his lips turn up. "oh? do you want to fuck in the pool?"

"no you— pervert! we are not going to fuck in the pool!"

"okay okay, it was just a suggestion" he rolls his eyes, squeezing your hip.

you scrunch your nose, splashing water in his direction. "hey, let's just make this easy, go out with me?"

your jaw almost drops. is this man really serious?

"are you really asking me out in chenle's pool?"

"not as romantic as i wanted it to be but.. it works".

you would punch that smile off na jaemin's face if he wasn't absolutely adorable, oh, and you also really enjoy kissing him down. "okay stupid, but make it a good first date".

"i always keep my promises!"

and if you kiss him again? well that's no one else's business.

[physalian]

“How do I know if my story needs work or if I’m just being hard on myself?”

As I sit here accepting the fact that at 70k words into Eternal Night’s sequel while waiting for my editor for Eternal Night itself, that I have made an error in my plot.

Disclaimer: This is not universal and the writing experience is incredibly diverse. Figuring this out also takes some time and building up your self-confidence as an author so you can learn to separate “this is awful (when it’s not)” and “this is ok (but it can be better)” and “this isn’t working (but it is salvageable).”

—

When I wrote my first novel (unpublished, sadly), years ago, I would receive feedback all over the chapters and physically have to open other windows to block off parts of the screen on my laptop to slow-drip the feedback because I couldn’t handle constructive criticism all at once. I had my betas color-code their commentary so I could see before I read any of it that it wasn’t all negative. It took me thrice as long as it does today to get through a beta’s feedback because I got so nervous and anxious about what they would say.

The main thing I learned was this: They’re usually right, when it’s not just being mean (and even then, it’s rarely flat out mean), and that whatever criticisms they have of my characters and plot choices is not criticism of myself.

It did take time.

But now I can get feedback from betas and even when I hear “I’d DNF this shit right now unless you delete this,” I take a step back, examine if this one little detail is really that important, and fix it. No emotional turmoil and panic attack needed. I can also hear “I didn’t like it” without heartbreak. Can’t please everyone.

The only time I freak out is when I'm told "this won't need massive edits" followed up by, in the manuscript, "I'd DNF this shit right now". Which happened. And did not, in fact, require a massive rewrite to fix.

So.

What might be some issues with your story and why it “isn’t working”.

1. Your protagonist is not active enough in the story

You’ve picked your protagonist, but it’s every other character that has more to do, more to say, more choices to make, and they’re just along for the ride, yet you are now anchored to this character’s story because they’re the protagonist. You can either swap focus characters, or rework your story to give them more agency. Figure out why this character, above any other, is your hero.

2. Your pacing is too slow

Even if you have a “lazy river” style story where the vibes and marinating in the world is more important than a breakneck plot, slow pacing isn’t just “how fast the story moves” it’s “how clearly is the story told,” meaning if you divert the story to a side quest, or spend too long on something that sure is fluffy or romantic or funny, but it adds nothing to the characters because it’s redundant, doesn’t advance the plot, doesn’t give us more about the world that actually matters to the themes, then you may have lost focus of the story and should consider deleting it, or editing important elements into the scenes so they can pull double-duty and serve a more active purpose.

3. You’ve lost the main argument of your narrative

Sometimes even the best of outlines and the clearest plans derail. Characters don’t cooperate and while we see where it goes, we end up getting hung up on how this one really cool scene or argument or one-liner just has to be in the story, without realizing that doing so sacrifices what you set out to accomplish. Personally I think sticking to your outline with biblical determination doesn’t allow for new ideas during the writing process, but if you find yourself down the line of “how did we get here, this isn’t what I wanted” you can always save the scenes in another document to reuse later, in this WIP or another in the future.

4. You’re spending too long on one element

Even if the thing started out really cool, whether it’s a rich fantasy pit stop for your characters or a conversation two characters must have, sometimes scenes and ideas extend long past their prime. You might have characters stuck in one location for 2 or 3 chapters longer than necessary trying to make it perfect or stuff in all these details or make it overcomplicated, when the rest of the story sits impatiently on the sidelines for them to move on. Figure out the most important reasons for this element to exist, take a step back, and whittle away until the fat is cut.

5. You’ve given a side character too much screentime

New characters are fun and exciting! But they can take over the story when they’re not meant to, robbing agency from your core characters to leave them sitting with nothing to do while the new guy handles everything. You might end up having to drag your core characters along behind them, tossing them lines of dialogue and side tasks to do because you ran out of plot to delegate with one character hogging it all (which is the issue I ran into with the above mentioned WIP). Not talking about a new villain or a new love interest, I mean a supporting character who is supposed to support the main characters.

—

As for figuring out the difference between “this is awful and I’m a bad writer” and “this element isn’t working” try pretending the book was written by somebody else and you’re giving them constructive criticism.

If you can come up with a reason for why it’s not working that doesn’t insult the writer, it’s probably the latter. As in, “This element isn’t working… because it’s gone on too long and the conversation has become cyclical and tiring.” Not “this element isn’t working because it’s bad.”

Why is it bad?

“This conversation is awkward because…. There’s not enough movement between characters and the dialogue is really stiff.”

“This fight scene is bad because….I don’t have enough dynamic action, enough juicy verbs, or full use of the stage I’ve set.”

“This romantic scene is bad because…. It’s taking place at the wrong time in the story. I want to keep it, but this character isn’t ready for it yet, and the vibe is all wrong now because they’re out-of-character.”

“This argument is bad because…. It didn’t have proper build-up and the sudden shouting match is not reflective of their characters. They’re too angry, and it got out of hand quickly. Or I’m not conveying the root of their aggression.”

—

There aren’t very many bad ideas, just bad execution. “Only rational people can think they’re crazy. Crazy people think they’re sane,” applies to writing, too.

I just read a fanfic recently where, for every fight scene, I could tell action was not the writer’s strong suit. They leaned really heavily on a crutch of specific injuries for their characters, the same unusual spot getting hit over and over again, and fights that dragged on for too long being unintentionally stagnant. The rest of the fic was great, though, and while the fights weren’t the best, I understood that the author was trying, and I kept reading for the good stuff. One day they will be better.

In my experience beta reading, it’s the cocky authors who send me an unedited manuscript and tell me to be kind (because they can’t take criticism), that they know it’s perfect they just want an outside opinion (they don’t want the truth, they want what will make them feel good), that they know it’s going to make them a lot of money and everyone will love it (they haven’t dedicated proper time and effort into researching marketing, target audiences, or current trends)—these are the truly bad authors. Not just bad at writing, but bad at taking feedback, are bullies when you point out flaws in their story, and cheap, too.

The best story I have received to date was where the author didn’t preempt with a self-deprecating deluge of “it’s probably terrible you know but here it is anyway” or “this is perfect and I’m super confident you’re going to love it”.

It was something like, “This is my first book and I know it has flaws and I’m nervous but I had a lot of fun doing it”.

And yeah, it needed work, but the bones of something great were there. So give yourself some credit, yeah?

[deviantartdramahub]

So this is something to settle an expose a certain person who is rallying people to hate on one of my friends, and that person is @xscene-queen-selfshipsx. This is from my perspective, the person she actively and proudly tried to trick into giving her free stuff by taking advantage of my generosity.

For context, Vee and I had become close friends, and I admittingly was lovestruck and didn't go about it in the right ways, ultimately, unfortunately, unknowingly, and unintentionally making Vee uncomfortable and having Vee block me on everything. I do not blame Vee for what she did to protect her own emotional well being and once Scene relayed what Vee had told her I did, I finally saw the other perspective and I took a long look at myself in the mirror and punched it in disgust, and now I'm in the process of making a mosaic of a monarch butterfly with the pieces of that mirror.

What Scene thought she was doing was revenge for her as she found out that with as little income I have, I go out of my way to show appreciation for the people that are there for me and give them gifts, but I personally can't see how what she was attempting to do and admittingly almost succeeded in doing is in the benefit of ANYBODY ELSE but herself.

I first met Scene when playing Cards Against Humanity with her and Vee, we three had a great time together, and afterwards conversations went on from there. Scene was a cool person with a lot of similar interests and I enjoyed talking to her. There was a time she thought about leaving Vee's server when she felt like she wasn't fitting in and had nothing in common with anybody there. Being someone that has dealt with rejection from the world for being different, I decided to go talk to her, and I spent hours writing long paragraphs to help her understand that it's okay to be different and to be proud of it, and that she should still be open about her personal interests because true friends will support you in those interests AND since I was there at the time, I offered to be that person that shared common interests with her. After that long conversation, Scene decided to stick around and it seemed her mood had actually changed. She seemed more confident to be herself and seemed to have found a new outlook on everything, I felt like I had truly helped her. She even said when I admitted to her that I REALLY liked Vee, that she fully supported the possibility of Vee and I getting together and that I would be a good person for her.

Fast forward to when Vee and I had our falling out because of my own mistakes that I take full responsibility for, and have told Scene many times that I did. Scene and I talked about the falling out, and Scene went to Vee to find out her perspective of everything and then relayed it to me, which was extremely helpful in me starting to fix what is wrong with me as I was unaware of the full scope of what I did wrong, but scene did it in a very harsh way as well. Calling me names, comparing me to awful people or comparing my actions to way more extreme actions, making sure that I saw every ugly detail in my reflection so I could start popping those ugly pimples of my personality. But she also helped change the subject and was being there to talk to me about the common interests we had, often having to help me stop thinking or talking about Vee in my time of heartbreak by saying things like "it was never real, you were delusional, you messed up, you have a lot to work on before even thinking about finding love" etc. (not actual word-for-word quotes, just mostly paraphrasing.) and of course the conversation came up about my anxiety of how Vee is going to feel when gifts I had sent her were going to be coming in the mail in a couple days and how I used to shower Vee in gifts, not in a way to "buy her love" but to simply get her something that she couldn't afford at the time (but I could) that I know she would like and would make her happy, because I am a people pleaser to a fault.

After Scene discovered this trait about me that I do with ALL my friends, she started REALLY trying to convince me to get her stuff, and in my depressive state, I agreed that I would buy her stuff she was asking for, because I wanted to be happy making somebody else happy again. I came close to doing so but thankfully fate protected me and the items she was asking for the most at the time were out of stock, so I couldn't buy it for her, so then I splurged on myself to cope in my own way, making me unable to afford ANYTHING she was asking me for. She kept trying to tell me when I was reacting to the things she was asking for "not to fall for her, don't make the same mistake you made with Vee", but that's the thing, I didn't have an OUNCE of feelings for Scene in the slightest, my heart simply doesn't move on like that, and I'm currently working on myself to be a better partner for somebody in the future, because obviously I'm not good for anybody right now for many reasons. I am not going to fall for somebody else RIGHT AFTER losing somebody that I was basically handing my heart over to on a silver platter, especially if that person is their "ride or die" best friend that's like a sister to them, that's just morally messed up. I was simply reacting because what she was asking me for was the typical Hot Topic girl vibes clothing, which I did admit that is my favorite style and usually the style of every girl I crushed on, just to simply say that Scene had good taste and that she was going to be looking amazing in it, the same way a gay friend would go shopping with a bestie and compliment her with no intentions behind it because he doesn't swing that way. Example: "Damn gurl! Your butt in those, omg, you're going to make guys and girls flood the place because they'll be drooling so much! Yaaaas!"

Fast forward again after some time of me talking to Scene, daily updates, random memes, occasional drops in mood and venting how I miss Vee and how I wish I knew sooner what I was doing wrong so I could start to fix it before I lost her, etc. I randomly got a message from Vee after being unblocked on one of the apps we actively followed each other on in the past, telling me to add her back on Discord since she unblocked me there too because she had something important to tell me. Vee then sent me the screenshots you see in this post, of Scene admitting to her that she was planning to take advantage of me to get free stuff while also talking shit and insulting me for being a kind and trusting person who makes a lot of mistakes unknowingly and unintentionally. The way she speaks about me when I've been nothing but kind and supportive of her truly hurts. After Vee told me that, Vee and I also discussed our falling out, what we both did wrong on our own parts, what we learned about ourselves in the experience, and what we plan to do to become the best version of ourselves in the future. Vee and I are on good terms and actively speaking to each other, but I am controlling myself as best as I can to not be the clingy, obsessed, and lovestruck fool I was that made me lose her before, and she is trying her best to be better at communicating and being open about her feelings instead of forming to what she thinks others want. We are both becoming better people slowly but surely, because we don't want to be misunderstood by our actions when we have good intentions.

After I was informed, I kept it going with Scene to see how far she'd truly go to do such an evil thing to someone, and even when I admitted that I'm nervous that she may be taking advantage of me after she sent her amazon wishlist, she denied any I'll intentions and tried to make me feel ridiculous for thinking that she would do something like that, that she is there for me. So I decided it was finally time to show her what I now know. And you can see the rest in the screenshots.

Fast forward to now, where Scene is posting vague things, bad mouthing Vee and rallying other people who have had their own experiences with Vee, but never admitting any wrong she did on her part. I don't think Vee doing the morally right thing and warning someone that something LITERALLY ILLEGAL is being done to them warrants all the things that are being said about her. I do not make a lot of money right now, the only guaranteed amount being a little over 1k per month, while also living in my own and taking care of my ESA cat, and the things I was going to buy for Scene were going to be a LOT of money, the CHEAPEST item Scene was asking for being $50 or more, yet I was still going to do it because I was convinced she was my friend and gave a damn about me.

I'm going to close this with a direct statement to Scene. Scene, please feel free to do a post explaining how *you* taking advantage of a broken, generous, kind, good intentioned, IDIOT is "revenge" for Vee. Explain what Vee gains out of that. If you know Vee like you claim to, that you were her BEST FRIEND, her ride or die, then you would know that Vee doesn't take pleasure in the suffering of others, and what you were doing wasn't minor at all. You could've had me spend money on you that I could've spent on taking care of myself, wether it be things for my physical stability or emotional stability. You took advantage of my emotional state, my gullibility, and my passion for making others happy. Now you're upset because your friend ratted you out before you gained anything from it. I'm sorry but in comparison to you, Vee, and I, I have to say you are mostly in the wrong on a moral standpoint, and a legal standpoint at that. You are the reason why I hate humanity and now don't even want to identify as human anymore because humans are greedy little fucks that let the 7 deadly sins not only dictate their lives, but let it be the core fundamentals of how the "real world" works. What you attempted to do to me is disgusting, and I'm sure if you were on ANY other side of this other than your own, you'd be just as disgusted by somebody doing that to somebody else, and if I'm wrong and you STILL think you're justified, you have a LOT more to work on than Vee and I do. And anybody else that sees this and still thinks she's justified, you have problems too. I pity all of you and the karma that will eventually come for you. I wish you all luck in your own paths of lives, because the ones I see you going on are ROUGH, but there's many forks in the paths of lives that you have the choice to take better ones, ones less traveled so you don't need to push others down to get past them.

I believe I've said all I could, but I could always go into more detail. I hope this post doesn't get taken down while other posts slandering Vee remain up while Vee's retaliation is being taken down. That would be extremely unfair and just silencing the truth and hiding actual evidence of somebody doing an awful and ILLEGAL thing she could EASILY try to do to others. This is Tovar Perri, AKA tovarisawesome or tovartheawesome (depending on the platform), not any alt account of Vee's, and I'm willing to prove that however I can.

TLDR: Be careful getting REMOTELY close with @xscene-queen-selfshipsx, there is a chance that it's all just an act to get something out of you, wether it be something with monetary value or simply your attention and emotional support, and she actually doesn't give to flying fucks about you, no matter how nice you are to her. Nobody is off limits for her to manipulate and take advantage of. Vee and I may have our own flaws we are actively working on, at least we are morally mature enough to know that doing something like that is EXTREMELY messed up. Did I mention enough that it's also ILLEGAL?! If I wanted to I could take legal action for just attempting to do it, and with all the evidence Vee and I have and my amazing lawyers, I would win. I'm just saying. But I like to give second chances, so as long as this post puts an end to this whiny "my friend snitched on me and I didn't get my free clothes, WAH! Let's all talk shit about her and validate me when I don't disclose the shitty things I did!" posts that I'm seeing, then I'll take that as you either sulking in your shit pile you made, waiting for karma to come to you, or you are actively working on yourself as well, which I hope the case is the ladder. Good luck. I hope nothing but the best for everyone in this shitty situation and this fucked up world we live in.

Long-winded as always, if that isn't proof that I am Tovar Perri, I don't know what is. XD

I'm going to see how all this goes. One might say Evie has been brigading in response to everything and that it's giving this a conflict of interest. You won't be given the boot, but keep in mind the dump may not exist for long. There also needs to be more sources, this needs to be talked about.

[evelmiina]

I'm going to be asking a lot of artists I follow this question, but how did you develop your style? It SEEMS like most people find their style and stick with it forever, just making improvements and iterations. I tend to work in a lot of different styles because I enjoy doing that, though I know there are things I gravitate towards as well. But I wonder what your journey was and how you got feedback and improved while staying true to what you enjoyed?

Hi, thank you for asking. Sorry I cannot answer shortly it is kinda big subject

My style is just tons of little and big things that add up at some point in a way that simply makes sense to me. It is kind of like a personal sandbox or garden I've built and I can see what I can do there, what to add or remove and what to improve on. In my personal work I rarely ask outsiders for feedback but I am lucky to have partner and friends who I trust give me well constructed comments. Less on the style side and more like "that arm is wonky, here's how to fix it". I've never really had problem of being too swayed or persuaded by someone else's opinion on style or visuals and in fact I used to be a bit bad at taking criticism. I'm really thankful to having received kindness and patience even when I'd get sulky and dramatic. I really started to improve faster when I started to respect fundamental drawing skills, and it didn't take anything away from "me" or "my style". On the contrary. It's not always enjoyable to do art. With any work there are parts that are just processes and execution and after the kind of honeymoon period of simply loving creating, or being energized by new project fades, it becomes more about being able to appreciate parts of it and accepting sometimes it's not very fun I think an artist can have multiple "aha" style moments in their life, where they feel like everything clicks and they want to stay in that sandbox for some time. Internet makes it seem like in order to be good/successful artist one has to be a brand and only do this one thing, but it's not the full picture. I follow many artists who seem content in making just one specific niche, but I don't know what other artistic pursuits they have outside internet. I don't know if that style is their heart and soul, or just something that pays the bills. I post variety of things and I'm aware some have much wider appeal and some feel more interesting only to myself. I still try to pursue what feels most honest to myself and it is sometimes scary not knowing where it goes, feeling like I should stay safe and only focus on the successful thing. But I want to incorporate new things and see what comes out.

[lucy---lou]

Part 23 Lucys-hdg-story

I stare at Mistress from my position on the floor and she just looks at me. Rude

"mreow?", I sort of climb up her leg and quickly get picked up.

"Todays dish at the 'Duralis Diner', is Miso Soup", Mistress chuckles.

Haha I would laugh if I could talk.

*tap*

"Did you like my surprise Lucy?"

*tap*

I nod. What else am I supposed to do.

*tap*

"meow", I say sadly.

*tap*

"Poor thing. You should be able to talk again tomorrow. Your purr box is the reason you can't already. But it seems it was worth it."

I eagerly nod and Mistress gives me a few scritches behind my ear. My body just goes limp and I fall forward hitting the bowl with my paw. Dowsing my self in miso soup.

Fuck!

I hate love my self.

I'm such a failure pleasure to have.

I do everything wrong right.

I - - - - - what?

I'm not panicking? It was just an accident and not my fault.

She fixed me! I need to thank her but I can't hug her because I'm drenched in soup. I can't say anything because meow. I can't write. I don't think I could use a pad with my paws. Oh! have an idea and smile.

I point to the floor and Mistress gets my message and puts me down. I walk over to the compiler meow at it and grab the items.

And spell out:

THANK YOU ♡♡♡♡♡♡!!!!!!!!!!

"MEEEOOOWWWW!!!!!"

"Everything for my little kitten."

She embrace me in a full body / vine? hug. Doesn't matter it feels great. I try to hug her back as best as I can.

"And now we both need a bath", Mistress chuckles, "hab fill the tub, please - oh and Ellie!?"

"A cute bath coming for the cute kitten", the Ai chirps.

"Yes Mistress?"

"It's time for lunch with your friends. You'll have to go on your own. We made a bit of a mess"

"Oh, ok. See you later! Love you two silly lovebirds!"

And off she is and I'm blushing again, like always. Mistress carries me over to the bathroom and lowers us into the tub. She starts getting all the soaps and I just enjoy the nice warm water.

I notice her vine structure loosening. So I push trough them and paw at her core.

"KITTEN!"

She launches me a meter up.

"MMREOooWwwwweeEeee", I scream while tumbling in the air and land with a loud splash. I try to apologise in meow but that proves too difficult. So I just laugh at what happened. Vines start restraining me and also petting me like really good.

"I know my kitten was just curious, but you could have gotten hurt."

"meoweo"

"Don't worry nothing happened. Now lets get you clean"

She wets my hair and massages shampoo into in. Which also feels great like everything else she does to me.

"Hold your breath"

I take a deep breath and she dunks me under water, making sure no water enters my ears. She even wipes the water from my face afterwards. Gosh she's perfekt. Next she puts on some conditioner and I realise I'm so helpless now.

I'd have to get the bottle into my mouth to sqeeze it. Somehow rub it into myself and also not drown. I don't know how to swim with paws, but Mistress would keep me safe.

Oh my, I couldn't even eat properly, only stick my head into a bowl. That would be funny. Good that Mistress does everything for me.

After a full body scrub she lifts me out and starts drying me. Taking extra care that the fur on my ears and tail look good. She dresses me in my pink hoodie with cat ears but also now with vine details. As if it wasn't obvious I belong to her. And also cat ear inception! No socks well because paws, makes sense to me.

"Time to met up with Ellie again. I bet she misses us"

"mreeeewr!?"

I've never been outside like this what will others think -

[asficdiary]

The Driver's Seat || Fernando Alonso || Chapter Eleven

I stare at Athena's closed door. I had imagined that right? The tension. The want. Of course, I had. She was my teammate for a few days, not to mention my best friend's daughter. And I was in a relationship. Why did I have to keep reminding myself of that?

I sigh and run a hand through my hair before starting the walk back to my own hotel room. I think it was time Mel and I sat down and had a proper talk. We couldn't go on like this. It wasn't fair, on either of us. We needed to fix us.

On paper there wasn't anything wrong with our relationship, we we're supposed to last. When we first got together it was so easy. We had fun and everything was carefree, which is hard at my age to find. She used to challenge me and I needed that. But over the last six months, things had changed. I don't know when, or how, but they had,. Her challenges annoyed me. I no longer felt peace and comfort when I was around her. It had once. But now, everything felt like a chore.

The good morning texts, the kisses on cheek, the smiles during interviews, even the sex, it had all become just another box to check on my to-do list. Perhaps I was cursed. With my luck, especially this year, I wouldn't put it past me. Maybe this was punishment for every bad decision I ever made, in both my career and my personal life. Or maybe, and most likely, I was just unlovable.

"We're selfish, everything we do is for ourselves and our dreams." Athena's words ring in my head. She was right, it was selfish. I was selfish. She had ended an engagement for the meer shot at proving herself enough in F2 to be given a chance at the F1 seat. There was a nagging feeling that I was about to do the same. I wondered if she ever regretted it. And yet even then, the way Athena spoke of it, it sounded brave. But I felt like a coward.

I pushed my thoughts away as I pushed open my hotel room door. I was half expecting Mel to be sitting on the bed waiting for me, but instead the room is empty. She was here, her jacket over the chair and her heels beside it told me she was.

"Mel?" I call out and I hear the should of running water, the shower. I sigh and walk to the bathroom door. I knock once before opening it.

"Thought I heard you. Hey baby' She says as she pulls off her bra. I looked away, it felt wrong to check her out, especially when I was feeling like this. She walks to me and places a kiss on my cheek, I give her a tight lipped smile. "You seem tense. Join me?" She offers. I shake my head softly.

"I'll wait for you, it's fine. I jut wanted to talk with you. I'm tired" I say and she nods. She opens the shower door and hot steam escapes.

"You can talk while I shower?" She offers. "No, No, please, enjoy your shower. I have some work texts to respond to anyways." I don't know why I lie to her, yet I do.

She smiles at me before hopping into the shower and closing the door. She's almost immediately engulfed in the steam. I step out of the bathroom and close the door behind me. I sigh and sit down on the bed, the mattress is hard, and feels like stone beneath me. How does one prepare to possibly break the heart of the woman he once loved? My leg starts bouncing. You'd think with the amount of times I've done it, I'd be a pro.

We had spoken of a future together. A house in Monaco, with a bedroom facing the ocean. We had talked about how we'd get married, elope instead of having a big wedding. There was even the discussion of adopting a kid, giving a child a home and teaching them what love meant. A ten year plan together, one full of dreams. "The dream died with the relationship" the words Athena and I had both said just minutes ago, stick out to me in my head.

I was doing it again. Killing the dreams along with the relationship.I stand up, feeling restless. I grab my track day bag and throw a change of clothes for tomorrow in it. I pick up my Journal, going to put it in the bag when I drop it. I lean down to pick it up and see instead the page it was on.

June 1st, 2025

I finally earned the first points of the season today. P9, after Verstappen got a penalty. Nine races and only two points to show for it. Was this seriously what it had come down to. Being happy because of two points when the championship battle is already in the high hundreds. Talk of a fall from grace.

I know things are supposed to get worse before they get better, it's been the motto of my entire career, but this feels so different. It's taking an emotional toll on me, I know it is. I'm so tired. I hate that I can't explain how I'm feeling. It's creating a wedge in mine and Mels relationship. She pointed out that I don't say I love her as much as I used to and that hurts. Not because I can't believe she thinks that but because it might be true.

All we do is fight over the stupidest things. Today she did the sweetest thing, dinner at my parents even invited Lorena and Amaya. We had a good evening and I'm glad Amaya is doing better after what happened with Lance. But then my mom asked when we're planning on getting married and Lorena offered to help me propose and I feel so shit. We've been together for three years and I never actually took the thought of us getting married seriously. It's never even crossed my mind apart from conversations about it.

It's never felt like a priority, she doesn't feel like one. And I've never felt so guilty about something. How can one think of marriage if they don't even know if they want the relationship. I- "What are you doing?" Melisa's voice sounds behind me as she opens the bathroom door. I close the journal and stuff it in the bag, zipping it closed.

I turn around and she's wearing a black silk gown, the same one that had driven me crazy so many times. But now it was just another piece of fabric. "We need to talk Mel" I say ignoring her question.

She looks at my bag then at me. She nods and huffs. "Can't say this is a surprise" She says.

"What?" "Come on Fernando, we're adults. I've been in enough relationships to know when I'm about to be broken up with. What's your reasoning? My moneys on another woman"

"What Mel, I would never-" "Never what? Cheat? We both know that's a lie. Might I remind you that's how we met. Or are you saying you're not breaking up with me?"

"I wouldn't cheat. I'm a changed man" "Please, you're still that reckless twenty-something chasing a championship. And come on the signs are there. Night of the team dinner you didn't come home, tonight you were out, and don't say It was with Athena, I walked past the restaurant on my way back a couple hours before you got here."

"I'm not cheating on you!" I say frustrated.

"Then why? Why are you ending this?" She asks and her voice cracks. She immediately wipes tears as they form and drop with a sniff. "Because all we ever do is fight Mel. Even now, some part of me hopes we would sit down and have a conversation. Fix what's broken, fix us, but it's just another fight." "Nothing is broken Fernando. You think it is, but it's not"

"It is Mel, and I'm only hurting you in the long run by pretending it's not. I love you, but I'm no longer in love with you" I say and my voice shakes. It hits her and I can physically see the pain it caused.

"You seriously think you're doing this for me, Fernando? Don't kid yourself, you're doing it for yourself. Just like everything in your life, if it doesn't please you, you leave. It's why you'll never be happy Fernando. I question if you even know what love is, because this. This sure as hell ain't it. I know you've been distant, but I thought you needed space. I thought you'd eventually come back to me" She says and I hate to say, but she's right. "Mel, I know I'm selfish and I'm so-" "No! Don't say you're sorry. Sorry is meant for when you regret what you've done. As much as I wish I could say I hope you regret this, I don't. Because I love you Fernando, and I'm sorry I thought you loved me too" She says and turns to the door.

"Hey, no. I'll go." I tell her. "The least I can do" "It's your room Fernando" "Not for tonight. Ruin it, order room service, do whatever damage you need to do. I'll just pay for it. Just, I'm sorry Mel. I truly am" I say, picking up the bag and slinging it over my shoulder. I then walk out the room, into the freezing cold hallway.

I let out a breath and it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. But just as quickly as it left it's replaced by immense guilt. I do the first thing that comes to my mind.

I grab my keys and make my way down to the parking garage. It's eerily quiet and I feel my heart crack. I immediately get into The Driver's Seat of the rental. I'd go to the track. It wouldn't be the first time I've slept in my driver's room. I take deep breaths trying to calm my heartbeat. My hands shake and I put them up to the leather steering wheel. It's cold to the touch and shocks me out of my trance. I hit it a few times and when my hand slips making the horn blare, I stop. I drop my head to my hands. "Why am I like this? Why do I always do this?"

Word Count: 1.8k

The Driver's Seat - Master List

Authors Note: 

Hii, my loves!

I want to be completely honest with you. I seriously LOVE writing a slightly struggling Fernando. I don't know what that says about me, but we don't need to talk about it. Um It feels like as of late, Fernando's been painted as this charming, funny, grandpa-type character Which I mean if you know the Fernando Lore... you'll know that couldn't be further from the truth. This is the man who traumatized Ron Dennis with a peach after all—iykyk.

Beneath the surface, I think Fernando is much more analytical and rational than people give him credit for. He's an ENTJ, one of the most strategic and results-driven personality types. As an INTP myself, I find that fascinating. I love thinking about MBTI types when I build characters, and the 16personalities site is honestly a lifesaver in that process. And while researching on his MBTI type the weakness page really stood out to me as a way of faults I could give him, and a way to make him feel more human. 

One weakness that stood out among the rest though was that ENTJs are really bad at handling their emotions. To quote from the sight itself; "At times, ENTJ personalities can be distant from their own emotional expression and sometimes downright scornful of others'. People with this personality type often trample others' feelings, inadvertently hurting their partners and friends, especially in emotionally charged situations."

That line sort of stumped me in a way that I wasn't able to move on from. It's sort of the perfect, I'd say internal fight I can imagine him always fighting with. Because at the end of the day we all have our own demons we face daily and It's something I like adding to my characters for depth. 

And weirdly, I love writing these struggles. Maybe because it humanizes them. Or maybe for this story it's because it lets us see him in a more vulnerable light. Or maybe because it shows how even the most composed people can falter when faced with raw emotion. I also think by saving a lot of that vulnerability for his POVs, I hope it reminds us that we don't ever fully know what someone else is going through and/or how they process things.

Anyway, I'm rambling. But I wanted to share that little insight into how I'm approaching Fernando's arc, because his is only the beginning of The Driver's Seat. 

However if you're also enjoying a more emotionally complex take on Fernando, I highly recommend checking out @valeelavvale's Fernando fanfic, "Legacy".  It broke me out of my reading slump and I've been absolutely devouring it. It's beautiful, painful, and it's been putting me through the motions (in all the best ways).

Thank you so much for being here and for reading. I'm really excited for where this story is going, and I hope you're enjoying the ride so far.

As always, Lots of love, - Lia 

[tshortik]

Hiiiiiiiii 👀 👉👈 thats SUCH a cool redesign for Zariel, it got me so excited to DM a DiA campaign. Any tips for running it? I LOVE YOUR ART ITS SO AMAZING AND THE COLORS ARE SO PRETTY, THANK YOU FOR SHARING IT OKBYEE

Aww thank you so much! ❤❤❤ I LOVE Descent into Avernus, but my love is a complicated one. I do think it is a really good, albeit difficult module, to learn how to become a better DM, though... I will explain.

The lore in DiA is pretty flat and the campaign is pretty railroady by design. If you have a roleplay-heavy group, I think it is best to heavily alter the module and incorporate things in there, that are very relevant to your players. That is also its magic though, because you can make the conscious decision to just use DiA as a base and structure, that you then heavily alter. The premise of the main quest is cool and imo easy to follow, so taking that and shaping everything around it can be pretty neat. I don't think I would have learned as much as a DM, if I had just used a "perfect" module that already did everything for me. If that is not what one looks for though, that's also understandable.

Tips:

In DiA, the characters start in Baldur's Gate, which is imo the absolute worst decision I've ever seen. Elturel's fate is integral to the story, so I recommend having your PCs at least see what happens to Elturel. I recommend the oneshot The Fall of Elturel for that, where the PCs become witness to Elturel's fate from afar. It will also cover the low-level sessions in a neat way. Having at least one player character with a connection to that city also really helps. Otherwise, your PCs will just go "Oh wow how terrible. Anyway, I'm not from there anyway, don't know anyone from there, never been there, whatever lmao."

Some people cut out the Baldur's Gate part, but my group enjoyed that area a lot, so you can use it for roleplay-heavy sessions and fleshing out the lore. It is also a great sandbox to figure out how you as the DM will implement your characters goals and backstory into the plot, before venturing forth. Having a player character from Baldur's Gate or with a connection from there is also perfect. SPOILERS: Same thing with Candlekeep as well. It is a wicked cool location that is not explored in the module at all, but it might end up a very interesting mini arc for your PCs if you approach it on your own terms.

To flesh out the lore and make everything feel more lived in and logical (note: there are some very silly bits in the module, that would make a thoughtful player immediately go "that makes NO sense lol"), I recommend checking out the Alexandrian Remix. It can go on huge tangents that are unnecessary for your own means though, so don't feel like you have to stick to it 100%. It does have some really neat ideas and fixes for the lore though, and I have ended up using it more than the actual book lmao.

Avernus as a Sandbox is also great. In general, if you find a way to give your players choice in where they go in the Nine Hells, they will probably have a good time. I think they should def feel pressure and know of a goal, but also make sure that they have power over what road they take there, you know?

I mentioned Candlekeep – Elminster's Candlekeep Companion is also an amazing resource if you wanna flesh out that location. I have also heard of some people adding adventures from Candlekeep Mysteries in there, but I didn't do it myself cuz my players felt time pressure.

Contrast the evil, awful and depressing with moments that are nice and calm, even if it's just roleplay opportunities. Otherwise everything will feel like a drag. On the other hand, don't be afraid to then overwhelm your players by throwing a bit too much at them afterwards. High tensions and emotions are perfect for the setting imo, but you need to design it with ups and lows as to not overwhelm.

I have completely rewritten some of the Forgotten Realms lore, changed characters' genders and names and races in the book (Ravengard is a woman in my story, Reya is a dragonborn, etc.) especially about the deities. Don't be afraid to make the story your own. I also incorporated the player backstories heavily into the plot, which makes them sometimes go on completely homebrewed sidequests. Embrace that and don't be afraid of it!

Sometimes players also see connections where there are none, or they speculate about super wild stuff – and this might be controversial – but sometimes it is really neat to take some of those ideas (not all! otherwise there is no surprise) and make them actually relevant, even if they weren't before. If your players are engaged, that is always the best possible situation. Making some of their thoughts true can be on one hand extremely satisfying for them, and on the other hand they will make your own made-up-world much more interesting, because they collaborated unknowingly in making it so much richer and complex.

It really helps the flow of the campaign to have at least one PC that is: Morally dubious, or interested in deities, religion or lore. If not, you as the DM can attempt to make them more interested until they actually get to Avernus, through new goals or revelations. The themes of the Nine Hells have a lot to do with corruption and betrayal and emotions, so having characters with themes that go into that direction will make it easier to keep your players engaged.

This is my own opinion, but maybe play a couple devil npcs with this motto: There are certain good deeds only a devil can commit. Devils are the enemies, but they also have to become your allies. Your characters will be literally walking through a plane that is inhabited primarily by devils, and they will have to speak to some of them or parlay, if they don't want to be ripped to shreds immediately. Devils are smart and cunning, and many would prefer to talk it out, instead of risking their lives in the Nine Hells. This can also be an opportunity to explore corruption or redemption arcs, or to explore fiendish pacts. Both can flesh out the story tremendously. 👀

The setting gives you the opportunity to explore some esoteric and theological concepts. IF that is your jam (it is certainly mine), think about how you make that digestible to your players. They could find lore in a library, find strange ruins, meet a powerful deity, get visions by other deities, be manipulated by archdevils, etc. You don't have to leave it all as subtext, because devils and angels and otherwise literally become a central point of the campaign. Also don't be afraid to get weird about angels and devils. They are from a different plane – making them a little alien, letting them have absolutely wild opinions about the universe, not needing to fit them into our ideas of science – that is rly interesting stuff to explore as a PC and also DM. Resources (optional)

Flee Mortals by MCDM, Tome of Beasts (2023), Tome of Beasts 2, Creature Codex have really awesome monsters

Encounters in Avernus

The Encyclopedia of Demons & Demonology by Rosemary Ellen Guiley is a book that I own privately for some creative projects, but I got some neat inspiration from it for my campaign too!

A lot of the lore in Dnd is very questionable, but especially in the older versions you can find some wild and creative shit (and also lots of problematic rubbish you can just filter out lmao) that is mentioned once and then never again. Little nuggets like that usually inspire me the most and a simple sentence can spawn an entire lore or mission idea for me. Some books that you might find interesting (try to find a pdf version online cuz they aren't printed anymore) are Fiendish Codex I: Hordes of the Abyss, Fiendish Codex II: Tyrants of the Nine Hells (3.5), Guide to Hell (2e), Manual of the Planes (3.5).

[chipthekeeper]

Andor S1 Rewatch Commentary - Episode 4

:)))))

*singsongy voice* It's finally time to start the Aldhani aaaarrrrc! I'm so excited. I've been annoying about it for hours already

Hi Biggs. You’re looking at me. You've realized that I'm talking to myself all of a sudden?

Here we go. Fun times ahead. This is the part that's going to be really hard for me not to just quote word by word

It feels like it's been longer than a week since I've watched. It was kind of a long week

Sorry Biggs. Just go to sleep, buddy. I'm just going to be talking (he didn’t go to sleep but he stayed with me almost the whole time so half of this is me talking directly to him)

I’m so ex—I get to see my children this time. I'm so excited….I know I'm biased but I think the theme music is the best during this arc too. But I need to hear them all back to back, just to be sure. I just like the energy of this one

“Blue, bright blue!” He's fucking bleeding all over the place—Mom, now is not the time to text me

“What's Aldhani?” Ugh. Only the best place on earth…slash…not

Kinda want to try some Mednog. I think that would fix me. I mean that's the point, right?

They're having a whole conversation and I'm already thinking about the team on the ground

Biggsy, you're so soft!! *purring sounds*

And, of course, I would have done the sit up and point at the TV meme whenever he said that he fought in Mimban….. “The Empire had you fighting each other.” What the fuck…are you talking about? The Mimbanese sure weren't fighting themselves. And it's not like it was hard to tell the difference between them and the Empire….? Whatever. I just missed one of my favorite lines while I was talking, but that's fine

Prepped team, good plan, except for you know, the parts that suck

Coruscant!!! She is pretty, and man, seeing this for the first time, huge…..I like Dedra’s briefcase, she looks like she should be stealing money too

Oh character of the day, Supervisor Grandi…..Dedra’s bun is incredible

*fart noise when Dedra’s wrong, then giggling* Dedra, when she grins—”call the Navy!”

So hard for me to watch these ISB scenes because all the white gives me a headache. Bleviiinnnn!

Just noticing Lonni noticing. Lonni! It's always kind of itched in my brain that Lonni reports on the shipments to Scarif and I've never…quite wrapped my head around why I like that so much

Aldhani!!! We're here, we made it!! Can't wait to find out how that's transcribed every time I say that (that time it was “Lonnie” because I had just been talking about him a lot. Previously it was Aldonny)

It's time, there she is, look Biggs, look, look, look!!! There she is!!! Got her poncho on and her stick. That's the love of my life!! “Who's that?” That's the love of my life, you asshole. How dare you

See, Luthen knows exactly how she's gonna react. Why? Because reasons. We all know

I feel like I have the same shirt that Cassian's wearing. Oh no, just kidding

It's time Biggs. Are you listening? Are you watching? You're not watching, you're licking yourself. There she is!!!!! “Hello, Vel!!” *giggles*

I just love how mad she is like, all the time. It’s so cute. “Now, like this?” *growling noises* That was me growling at Luthen. “What do you mean buyin”—shot of the day!! Yeah, yell at him!!

Need to….need to dig into Luthen scolding her for wasting energy…

*more sounds* That was me whining. She's so cute. Bratty daughter alert—”this is what it comes to!!!......You step up, you lead, you cancel the mission.” *whines again* this scene goes too fast

Lip thing number one. I'm just going to count them. Actually that's kind of one and a half. There was half of one earlier

I want an action figure of Vel with the poncho on. I don't see why that's so much to ask

*hysterically laughing* Okay, I had to pause because they were just, they were putting, cleaning up trash from the desks on the Morlana…place and there was a noodles box there, that really made me laugh. I'm not being coherent at all tonight but that's not my fault. Blevin is coherent enough for both of us

“It took the combined ingredients of idiocy, ineptitude, and total disengagement for this farce to have reached the full apex of incredulous disaster!” It's so hard to say in one breath, jesus

“Deputy Inspector Karn…proud, are we?” See, I can’t. I just can’t not quote this whole episode

I think Ben Bailey is having the most fun of anyone on the show. He just eats every line. Leaves no crumbs

It's so prettyyyyy! I need to talk about something at the end of the episode and I really hope I remember

You can see the TIEs coming from so far away. It's so cool and they're so loud. Just the feeling of watching this for the first time like, god, I'm about to cry (i did not cry!!)

Heert!! “They've misspelled Ferrix.” I really like the, I don't know how many people actually adhere to this theory, but I like the theory that Heert is related to Tarkin, just because they have a similar face shape and…gay

Ah Luthen’s Hannah Montana closet *giggling* The way he runs his hand through that wig, I don't know, it's really funny. And see, I like to picture Vel having a similar Hannah Montana closet. She does not practice smiling in the mirror though

I also want to talk about all these, like, places that they have stuff just buried underground, kind of barely covered up. Something I think about a lot, but I don't think anybody else really does. How many of these scattered little former communities do they have stuff like that in?

That line particularly hurts because they still won't put it on a fucking map for me!!!!

I just want to go back to writing my fic, this kind of sucks. Wish we'd seen more of the caves. See I could just watch a whole fucking season about the Aldhani arc by itself. I want it. I'm probably never going to stop writing about it

You're about to meet the rest of the team, buddy. Are you watching? Aw, there’s Nem

Just want to go *idiotic blubblubblub sound* on Skeen’s…on his head, on his forehead. You know that sound, it's ridiculous

Is that same set of quadnocs that Cinta has later? How did she get them off the…I guess she's—oh I'm writing in my head again, I need to just watch. I can't be coherent—drays!!!

“What's she doing?” *on the verge of tears* It's my family Biggsy, they're all here…..plus that guy

Best shot, best shot, oh god I love their first shot together!!!! And Vel’s stupid little hat

How many times did they have to chase the Dray when they got away? I hope it was more than one

Look, McLaren!! It's the place Biggs, why are you not excited about this?

That guy was wearing a Cyclops thing

Space luggage seems heavy as hell, why does this stuff not hover?.....Spluggage? Mm nope, don't like that. I had to say it, you know I had to say it

Here she comes, someone I absolutely cannot talk about—”Mother”—I will laugh every single time I watch her slap him, every time, forever. *perfect Eedy impression* “What are you starin’ at?”

I just want to hang out in one of these huts, that's all I want…..Trying to save our pain meds for us, not you *gasps* look there's The Blanket!

“So you don't know him.” So cold, you can see all their breaths…..Liar. You're very pretty but you're lying

It's Mon time! Look at her little Fantasticar. Ooh it's Kleya time too

Trailer shot. I remember that trailer shot and being so confused about what was going on with Luthen after the first few. And then when you see this episode, it was like, oh man, that's so fucking cool

I wonder where Coruscant’s official temple of patience is

“That's a kind way of putting it.” That's one of those lines I just say, in life, and no one notices

This is the outfit Mon is wearing in her Black Series figure, and I only know that because I like tried to spend five whole minutes trying to make her stand up once. She didn't stand up. She stands up better than Vel though, I have to admit that. “I'd be the first one to fall” wait hahahaha

I want Kloris’s job. Not the spy part, just the…flying around in the bitchin’ car with Mon Mothma in the back. How do I apply for that job?

*speederbike noises* Every time the scene changes I just, I know the sounds that are coming next. So that's, uh…that might be a way to tell that I've seen this episode…a few times. I can't believe somebody tried to correct me about it yesterday *chuckles*

Cassian’s got such a bitchy little face, god

There's no time to pause and talk. People think this is boring and slow, but it goes too fast for me. It goes too fast!!!

Time to meet Perrin. I think Perrin needs to pick either the beard or the man bun. You can't have both. His hair is terrible in every possible way, actually

Ooh! Ghorman mentioned. Ding! *counts on fingers*

This is my favorite scene, Biggs, it's my favorite scene!!! I'll try not to just whine the whole time (did not succeed)

I really want to know where this model is now and….how many thousands of dollars I would have to pay to get my hands on it—”The rain gets into the glue”

“Nine minutes. We've timed it.” We've timed it!!!!

I'm sitting up now, I’m…leaning forward *muttering all of Gorn’s lines* “The Eye? It's not something you'll soon forget” *incoherent noises*

“It's a recurrent band of crystallized noctus—microdensities” *stammering* It's impossible to say that out loud

I’m sorry, I’m mostly just quoting this scene. But I had to sit up to do it because I’m so….haaahhh!!!

Look. at her. fucking. eeeeyyyessss. That's fucking ridiculous. I might have to rewind

“Are you in all the way?” Yes, babe *bleeeeeeeppp*

“Speak!” It's almost over already I’m so sad *you can hear me frown*

I don't have much to say about this. But yeah, Ben Bailey's having so much fun

Lost in the dust…that's not a line I remember. I have to admit I don't remember every word of this episode, but I don't pay much attention in this part all the time

Ha. Gay. This is when I first…I gave them little squinty eyes. Because why are you sitting so close? And now we know!!

I want that thing too. Really wish he would have opened it all the way so I could see all of the alphabet. Also, what the fuck are they eating? Tell me what they're eating!!!!

Okay I did remember what I wanted to talk about because I feel a lot about Vel going out for the first watch even though she just walked all through the night with Cassian—excuse me, with Clem. And presumably she walked all day and night prior to that, because it's a full day gettin’ out here now. So she's gone like two whole days without sleeping and she still volunteers to take the first watch. Because she's a good leader!!! Either that or she goes out and just falls asleep on the first watch, but I don't think so. She could have just gone right in and just gone right to bed, but nope

And now I have to wait a whole nother week to go on *growls* This sucks, man. It goes so fast. It goes so fast. I can't…….I'm just thinking back to before the show came out when some people had screeners for the first four. And all the talk was “the first three episodes are great. The third one is really great. But the fourth is when it gets big and it gets fun.” So I remember sitting down to watch this for the first time being like, it better fucking blow my mind *chuckles* And it did not disappoint. And it never has

Luckily for this rewatch, I would have to get up and change discs to watch episode five. So I'm not tempted to do that. Even though I really want to because that's my favorite. You all know that. You know that I'm going to be extra annoying next week too, so….better sign off!

[walkingstackofbooks]

I think partly getting back into writing is hard because there's so much deicision overwhelm with which WIP to choose to pick up. Last year, it was easy in that I always chose Vision Awry, unless I had an inspiration strike me down - at which point, starting wasn't the hard bit.

But now, when I feel like writing but don't have an idea chewing me, I mull over several of the ideas I've got and can't really get into any of them because there's always several others kind of wanting attention and I guess, in a way, I'm almost anxious to commit to any, because what if I choose wrong and get inspiration for another?

All that to say: For April, I'm going to limit myself to working on just three of the WIPs in my folder: the Stat Prob break-it/fix-it; A Minor Lapse chapter 2; and the Jiles suicidal understandings fic.

If I finish AML or Jiles (hah!), I can pick a new one to replace it.

Strikes of inspiration are exempt.

If I want to work on editing one of my tumblr stories for AO3, that's only going to be for weekends, to a max of one a week.

Also, on a non-work day, I've got to either write 100 words or stick at it for 30 mins before I can give up and say I need a nap.

Okie-doke, let's see how that goes. Brain juices do seem to be righting themselves with medication now, so writing in theory should be getting easier anyway, but hopefully this will make it less difficult to get back into a thing and get on with it 😅

[crmsnmth]

Scene: Before The Party

(This started out as a simple short poem. It fits better this way.)

I chuckle as she adjusts how the black button-up shirt fits on my body. Outside, large snowflakes fall to a moving, yet dark city. The blanket of white won't last long before it's gray and covered in exhaust and dirt. But for a brief few moments, the city is beautifully asleep. In less than an hour, we have places to be.

She looks me in the eyes, has she fixes the cheap dark tie around my neck. I never could tie one myself, and all the one's I've ever owned were tied once and never untied again.

"What?" She asks, sliding the knot and pulling it straight.

"The last time someone took a fuss on my clothes was my mom."

She lets out a loud Ha that brightens the room. A Rancid record spins lazily on the turntable. The music turned down past the point of quiet, and sounding like ghosts dancing around the room. We new the words, and we knew the music. It didn't need to always be so loud.

"Don't compare me to your mother. That's weird." She takes a small step back and looks at her handiwork. If someone didn't know me, you could almost say I looked like an adult. Wearing the shirt and tie, and black pants made me feel weird though. I couldn't quite put it down as to why. This was no different then the way I dressed in high school. The only difference then was my tie was red and thin, and not dark blue and normal.

"You sure, I can't just wear a t-shirt?" I complain like a toddler getting his picture taken at Sears. I scratch loosely at the color, and she slaps my hand away lightly.

"Don't monkey with it. And yes. This is my work's Christmas party. We both need to look professional." And she did. She was wearing a dark blue dress, that almost matched my tie. As if this wasn't some silly little Christmas party, and more like some kind of dance lived long ago.

"Fine," I said, rolling my eyes. "It's kind of hard not to compare you to my mom when you won't let me dress normal."

"Oh shut up," she laughs. It covers the music. It covers the sounds of city streets outside the window. It covers everything, in a warmth that makes everything move so perfectly smooth. I pick up the bottle of Corona sitting on the nightstand and take a drink.

I stick my tongue out at her, and it's impossible not to smile. It wasn't possible to remain in a sour mood when she was around. She looked beautiful. Her eyeliner into little points. Her lips the type of red that just made me want it smeared onto my skin. Instead, I've been kissing her quickly and softly, as not to ruin the work she's put in.

"Any advice for getting through this?" I ask. I wasn't showing it, but underneath the cool calm exterior was a screaming and terrified little boy. I didn't do well in social situations. Never have. Never came easy, and if something not easy for me, I tend to give up on it pretty quick. We'll call it my American Male Motivation.

"Just be you. But less offensive." This time she kisses my cheeck.

"Right. So, I should just keep my mouth shut." I nodded my head. I may have been joking in my sarcastic way, but in all truth, I meant it. My mouth works faster than my brain and I've said some pretty awful things, thinking they'd land as belly laugh jokes.

She smiles in that way where her blue eyes scrunch up. That smile just before a laugh. She puts her hands behind my neck and we sway for a few moments.

"You know, that might not be such a bad idea," she says. Her humor matched my humor and to the onlooking eyes, it would seem that we just constantly insult each other. And we do, sort of. These insults are filled with nothing but love and admiration though. Lovingly making fun of each other turned out to be a love language I didn't know I wanted.

I click my tongue and wink, before giving her yet another quick peck on the lips. I'm sure my own have to be starting to dye red. It was heard to keep my mouth off of hers. Things were beautiful, but some things were perfect.

I felt it on my face before I can stop it. For just a second, my inner turmoil shined through on my face, right through the living mask I wore. And I knew her. I knew she would see it, and she would ask. And she would ask…right…now.

"Are you ok?" Right on the dot. She was always on time.

I nod and smirk that half-cocked thing I wore whenever I wanted to cool. It did not make me cool. It make me look like I was hiding something.

"Liar." She says the word softly. Is it ever comforting to be called a liar when you are?

"Just nerves. That's all. I'll be good." Her blue eyes locked onto my gray ones and stayed.

"Don't be nervous. You'll do fine. We don't have to stay all night, either. We'll go, eat dinner, mingle and have a few drinks and come home. These are just the people I work with. There's not that many of them who you'll ever see again."

"Fair, but still. You see these people all the time. More than your friends, more than me. More than anybody. It's sad, but honestly these are the people who make up most of your life. I don't want to be the one to give them a reason for them to think your weird."

"They already think I'm weird." That laugh again.

"Yeah, but you know what comes out of my mouth. They might make you wonder." And now, I was getting to the real reason this whole thing scared me a bit. I had it buried underneath that fear of social acceptance. Buried under the fear of being awkward. The fear of losing her was the greatest fear of all. It was always buried, held deep in the damp dungeon spaces of my heart. And like any prisoner, sometimes it would get out. Just a little bit. Just enough.

"Wonder?" Her eyebrow raised in the inquiry. The smile on her face was still there, just subdued and quiet now. It still lit the room.

"Make you see how weird some of us really are."

She slapped my chest and laughed.

"I already know how weird you are. Do you really think it matters to me what the people in my life think of my personal life? It doesn't. I love you. I love how your brain works. I love having conversations all night about Dahmer and necrophilia. I love you. If they don't like you, who cares? I love you." And then she smashed her lips into mine, completely ruining her makeup, and making us late for the party.

[phoenix-downer]

Catting Around Chapter 2

Summary: Kairi comes to terms with the cat-astrophe on her hands and makes plans to fix it.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

(This story is a sequel to After Ever After, Love’s Cost, and Enchanted Neighborhood).

“Stay calm, stay calm, this is a geriatric pregnancy and I need to stay calm,” Kairi muttered to herself as she paced back and forth in their backyard, her entire family staring up at her with feline eyes. She wasn't sure who was more weirded out, their actual cat Kageko, or the humans turned cats.

"Sora, how on earth did this happen?”

Her husband-turned-cat shot a look at Haruto, as did Miyu. He wasn't paying attention, because he'd spotted a cockroach in the grass and was stalking it, tail swishing back and forth.

“Haruto,” she barked at her son, “I don't care if you're a cat right now, don't you dare eat that.”

He ignored her and pounced on it. A moment later, a sickening crunch sounded out. She put a hand over her mouth, but that didn't stop her from hurling up lunch into the bushes. Her stomach was always extra sensitive during her pregnancies.

“No one eat that,” she ground out as she wiped her mouth, well aware of what weird stuff cats would eat. Sora trotted over to her and rubbed against her legs, meowing sympathetically. Kageko meanwhile was sniffing Miyu and then Emi, and Emi meowed loudly at her. Haruto finally swallowed the bug, looking way too pleased with himself.

“I don't trust myself to change you all back right now,” Kairi said at last, rubbing her temple. “I never was quite as good at transformation magic as Donald—“

At this Sora meowed loudly, and Kairi thought he sounded rather indignant. His blue eyes told the same story.

“Okay, fine, I always managed to change you back, but that's different. And maybe I could still change you back, but what about the kids? I don't want to screw that up. Besides, Aerith told me to be careful about using magic during this pregnancy. It's okay if I use it every now and then, but I should stick to stuff I'm comfortable with. I think I'll just call Donald and ask him to come over. That seems safest.”

She pulled out her gummiphone and dialed the familiar number, keeping an eye on the kids/kittens as they wandered around the yard. Thankfully Sora hovered around them like an anxious mother hen, and Kageko seemed to have taken it upon herself to also watch over the kids. Somehow, the elderly lady had figured out that these were her humans. How, Kairi couldn't say for sure, but she figured it had something to do with their scents and Kageko’s very sharp nose.

That and they weren't acting fully cat-like. It was almost kind of funny watching them totter around on wobbly legs, entirely unsure of what to do with their tails. Sora was the only one who had any measure of grace in this form, probably because he'd been a cat before. And a lion. He deftly prevented Haruto from eating another bug, swatting it away and giving his son a warning stare not to do it again. He grabbed Emi by the scruff of her neck once more when she started to wander towards the fence, and he modeled to Miyu how to balance her tail and swipe at things.

“Hi Donald, yes, it's Kairi. I'm doing good! I'm just calling because I have a bit of a situation on my hands. No, it wasn't Sora this time, it was Haruto. Somehow, he turned them all into cats. Yes, it would be great if you could come by soon. Oh, you can't until tomorrow?” Kairi frowned and chewed her lip. Could they make it an entire afternoon, night, and morning without getting into too much trouble? Haruto had already eaten a bug and Emi had already made a mad dash for the fence.

Well, it was better than nothing, and Donald was doing them a favor…

”That's okay, we'll make do until then. Thank you so much! Yes, I'll make you some of my famous cookies for your troubles. Say hi to Daisy for me! Bye!”

With that she hung up the phone and put it back in her pocket. “Alright everyone, we have to make it until tomorrow. Uncle Donald will be coming to transform everyone back. Inside the house, now.”

Sora began herding their children indoors as Kairi held the door open, and Kageko brought up the rear.

Kairi glanced at the kitchen table with all of her craft supplies on it and sighed deeply. Hobby time would have to wait until later. And she had better get those supplies put up before the cats came in. She wasn't sure they'd be able to resist batting them around.

She silently prayed the house would be in one piece by the time Donald showed up. It definitely wasn't kitten proof. Kageko had her own little quirks to be sure, but she was pretty well behaved and she was just one cat. An additional four cats on top of that to chase around and keep out of trouble?

Deep, deep breaths, Kairi. You can do this.

Sora meowed again, rubbing against her legs, and she knelt and gently picked him up. His eyes seemed to say, I'm here and we're in this together, and she rubbed his cheek over the scent gland she knew must be there. Most cats loved having the spot rubbed, and sure enough, he leaned into her touch and kept butting his face against her hand.

Smiling, she brought him to her face. A moment later, he started purring and nuzzled her cheek.

Yes, she could do this. She had Sora's help and Kageko’s help. Surely the three of them would be enough to manage three mischievous, unruly kittens.

————————————————————————

A/N: Thank you for reading! And thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and commented on last week’s chapter, I really appreciate it ❤️ See you all next week!

[cookkoo]

I DID IT!!! agsdhjkaa

Drawtober 2023: [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][16][17][18][19][20][21][22][23][24][25][26][27][28][29][30][31]

Or go to this [link] as it's easier to scroll

Ok I haven't done this since 2018 it feels weird asdfjka. But since I finally able to complete the challenge I feel like it's ok to talk about it

First of, thank you for all the hearts and the reblogs— the tags are great as usual lol. could never stressed this enough but these interactions really fire me up. So thank you!!

Now for the reflection part

tbh I was not really sure what I was trying to achieve when I started drawing this year challenge, but one thing is I draw way too little and there's not enough shumako content in my own sketchbook

Long story short, this challenge has been a great journey, I did surprised myself a lot of times, especially day12, hotdamn I never knew I could draw a back this hot asdfhgja. But also, for someone who have been holding the ideas of 'drawing is suffering, and it will always kills your ego because you will never be good enough' mentality, doing this challenge kinda fix that in a good way. Sure, my back still ache and I pulled way too many all nighters for my own good, but I really really enjoy almost every moment of these past two months.

(Let's not talk about the fact that it took me 2 months to finish O}-{)

I think I should add that working traditionally (altho it kinda turn into more of a mix media at some point) really was refreshing. Inking is a bit unforgiving in a way, but it does give my brain good exercise, looking for solutions when making a mistake. It also kinda forced me to stop overwork on some parts, forgive myself (since there's not much I could do with those thick paint) and move on.

Also, this challenge finally give me the opportunity to express my love to P5S asdfjagd. Srsly tho, it came out when I stuck in a very bad slump. So I'm very happy I got to draw the PT hanging out and enjoying their summer together

Anyhow! Since I'm actually completed it, I'm thinking of compiling them and turn them into a zine. So, one more time, I hope I'm not jinxing myself, but I might comeback with a few more drawtober posts just because I wanna show how the zine gonna turn out asdfagj

If you read it this far then, uh, that's a lot of reading. Thank you once again for letting me cover your tl with my ted talk! lmao Hope you will stick around because I'm not done expressing my love to my OTP. Until then~!