#So updates and posts have been slow. I'm just slow. I'm tired and burnt out from work and grieving.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Learning to celebrate the little wins!

[4kingz]

Just for the Summer | Ticci Toby X Reader

Summary : Camp Redwood is just what you needed—free food and a break from everything back home. No signal, no drama, just trees, bug spray, and a summer to reset. The other counselors are easy to get along with, each one bringing their own energy to the group. It’s a peaceful routine—until things start to feel a little less like a break and more like something else. People come and go, and you start to realize there’s more to this place than you first thought. But for now, all you really need to do is enjoy the simple moments. Right?

Warnings : Nothing I can think of yet! There will definitely be some later, I'll update each chapters warnings as they're posted! Word count 2.7k A/N : Hie! I've never posted anything online before, I'm very anxious about this LOL but I hope it's enjoyable regardless! This is for fun right now and I'm unsure of how long it'll be & whatnot. This is going to be a painful-slow burn fic, as they're my favorites :insert evil laugh: anyways, enjoy the first chapter!

divider by @cafekitsune (© 2023-2024)

The bus smells like old leather, sweat, and something vaguely burnt—the way all public transportation does.

I’ve been on it for hours, watching the roads thin out into winding dirt paths, the kind that only lead to places people forget about. The trees are thick and heavy with fog, their branches curling toward the road like fingers stretching for something just out of reach.

The scenery is gorgeous. Creepy, in its own way. But it’s enticing, too.

There hasn’t been much talking. A few of the other counselors murmur to each other here and there, heads bobbing with the movement of the bus, but for the most part, it’s quiet. I figure it won’t be like this for long, so I might as well soak it up while I can.

Shifting in my seat, I adjust my backpack in my lap. At first, I took this job for the paycheck. The job listing made it sound easy—a summer in the woods, good money, free food. But after thinking about it more, I realized I needed something different. Something away from everything. I told myself it’d be fun. Maybe a little nostalgic, even.

Even if the view is a bit eerie and uninviting.

The driver clears his throat.

“Couple more miles,” he grunts, knuckles tight on the wheel. “Once we get past the old bridge, you’ll see the camp soon after.”

No one seems to have the energy to respond.

I don’t either. Instead, I lean my head against the window, watching as the trees blur past.

They’re dense out here, packed so tightly together that the spaces between them seem darker than they should be. Their branches stretch overhead, filtering the daylight until everything has that dim, greenish tint, like the world is underwater. The bus rattles along the uneven road, and for a moment, I just breathe, sinking into the rhythm of the movement, the steady pulse of tires crunching over gravel.

It’s calming.

Just trees, stretching on forever, untouched. I try to picture what the camp will look like—cabins by the lake, a big open field for activities, kids running around in bright-colored shirts. The kind of summer job I can look back on fondly. Maybe even one I’d come back to next year if I like it enough.

The driver flicks on the radio, muttering something about hating the quiet. The speakers crackle, then settle on a warbly folk song.

“There we go,” he mumbles.

The bus jolts as it crosses the bridge, wooden planks creaking under the weight of the tires. The water below is dark, slow-moving. Definitely not the kind of water you’d want to swim in. 

It felt like the whole day had passed by before we finally arrived.

A huge wooden sign hangs above the dirt path in front of us, written in all red paint and welcoming bubble letters.

‘Welcome to Camp Redwood’

The bus slugs along, before we reach what looks like the main campsite.

It’s way bigger than what I could’ve ever imagined. The main lodge stands at the center, an old two-story building with a wraparound porch and a roof that looks like it’s seen better days. The cabins are scattered near the lake, their wooden frames blending into the tree line. A toolshed leans slightly to one side, like it’s trying to back away into the woods.

No lights. No movement. Not even an animal in sight. For a place that’s about to be filled with kids and fun activities in a week, it's oddly... quiet.

The driver clears his throat again like he’s about to say something, but in the end, he just sighs and eases the bus to a stop.

“We’re here.”

As I expected, the silence doesn’t last long. The other counselors immediately burst into conversation, gasping at the sight of the camp and talking over each other as they shuffle down the aisle and off the bus.

I decide to wait, grab my bag and follow as the last person passes me. The driver doesn’t even glance our way, tapping his fingers against the wheel in time with the radio. Some country tune seemed to gain his favor more than we managed to. The moment we’re all off, he pulls onto the roundabout path and drives away without a word.

Wow. The way here was impressive enough but the camp itself is just… wow. 

“Counselors! Glad to see you all made it in one piece!”

Everyone stops short, twisting around to find the source of the voice.

There’s a guy on the porch, leaning casually against one of the wooden beams like he’s been there the whole time. He’s got messy blonde hair and the same Camp Redwood shirt we’re all wearing—an aggressively bright orange with plain black lettering. It clashes horribly. But he’s managed to make his stand out with a few personal touches.

A green beanie. A name tag pinned to his chest, the word BEN scrawled across it in some weird, almost alien-looking font. A few layered bracelets—woven, beaded, maybe even handmade—clink softly as he moves.

He grins, stretching his arms out like he’s welcoming us into his home. “Come on in. There’s plenty of rooms for everyone—first come, first serve.” He winks.

That’s all it takes. The group surges forward, practically tripping over themselves to get inside. I wasn’t too concerned about what room I’d get, but their excitement is contagious, and now I kind of want to check them out, too.

The inside of the lodge is somehow even bigger than the outside. 

It’s one of those places that feels like it was built to be rustic, but maybe just a little too much—like they took the word “charm” and ran with it until the edges started fraying. Wooden beams stretch across the ceiling, and the floors creak underfoot, even though I’m not sure how much traffic this place gets. The furniture's old but stylish, everything in that faded, vintage style—couches that look like they belong in your grandma’s house and coffee tables that probably came with matching coasters back in the day.

I glance around at the others, already getting a feel for the space. Some people are checking out the check-in desk, but there’s no one behind it. A few other counselors are leaning against the wall by the fireplace, casually chatting.

Ben, still hanging by the door, lets the others scramble past him with a casual wave. “The rooms aren’t gonna pick themselves.”

Everyone seems to take that as a challenge. The buzz of excitement builds as counselors crowd toward the stairs, chatting about how nice the place is, how big the rooms must be, and if anyone’s heard the rumors about the lake.

The stairs creak as I make my way up, and the hallway stretches out before me, long and narrow. I let the smell of pine trees and old wood lead me, the smell oddly refreshing. 

As I pass by the rooms, I take note that every single one of them is different. Whether it’s the way they’re arranged or the architecture entirely, none of them were the same. Every door is different, too. Some were engraved with florals, others were boxier and had no markings. The handles were different, too, some more updated than others. 

Whoever built this place must be proud. I couldn’t even imagine how long it must’ve taken to build, let alone to continue updating it. Some pillars were definitely newer than others, showing just how much care was put into this place. 

I pause in front of the last door—a corner room with a direct view of the lake behind us. It’s simple, but smaller than some of the other rooms I passed by. Must be why no one’s claimed it yet. It is a little cramped, but the bed is made with clean sheets, and there’s a small desk with a cute green lamp and a couple of old books stacked neatly beside it. I drop my bag onto the bed and run my hand over the smooth surface of the desk, feeling the faint grooves of wear in the wood. 

It was perfect. 

I set my things down carefully—my jacket draped over the back of the chair, my bag placed neatly by the door. I take a second to unpack just the essentials: my notebook, my charger, the books I’ve been meaning to read. It’s kind of funny how much of your life can be tucked into a bag. I set my phone down on the nightstand, its soft glow a reminder that I’m still tethered to the outside world, even if I’m a few hours away from it now.

I sit on the bed once everything’s to my liking, letting the silence wrap around me like a blanket.

Everything about this cabin was so comforting—the way the wood smelled, the old style of the furniture, like it had stories to tell. It all felt... settled, in a way. Even the soft creaks of the floorboards seemed welcoming, like the place was gently sighing, content to have someone here.

It’s only been maybe fifteen minutes, but I can already tell I’m going to love spending the next few months here. My eyes flutter shut at the thought. It’s strange how quickly the exhaustion hits. I didn’t realize how drained I was until I actually got into bed. I deserve a quick nap. Just a little one. It wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Hey, counselors,” Ben’s voice carries up the stairs, sharp and casual. “Dinner’s ready, and we’re meeting in the dining room. I wanna get everyone settled before we start. You’ve got five minutes.”

Around me, doors creak open as everyone scrambles to put their things away. The walls here are thin—I can hear every shuffle of footsteps and rustle of bags being shoved into corners. 

So much for a nap.

I push myself off the bed, rubbing the tiredness from my eyes. Everything’s already unpacked, so I might as well head down and grab a seat before the ‘good’ spots are taken. 

The floorboards groan beneath me as I make my way out, the sound unnervingly loud in the empty hallway. 

Downstairs, the lobby is just as stunning as before, its large windows framing the darkening sky. I catch myself staring again, drawn to the lounge chairs by the window—faded with time, but still holding onto some quiet character, the geometric patterns barely visible beneath years of wear. I can already picture myself sitting there with a book, the camp buzzing in the background. “Admiring the view?”

I spin around so quickly my heart practically leaps out of my chest. My hands fly up to my chest, a reflex to calm the sudden rush of adrenaline.

When the hell did he get there? 

Ben’s standing in the doorway, watching me with an unreadable expression, though I can tell he’s enjoying this—his eyes twinkling with amusement.

I exhale, forcing my hands to drop from my chest. “I didn’t hear you.”

His grin sharpens. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

I glance toward the dining hall. “Dinner time, right?”

Ben nods, rocking back on his heels. “Unless you wanna skip and live off granola bars for the rest of the summer. No judgment.”

Tempting, but I shake my head. “I’ll pass.”

"Suit yourself." He turns and starts walking, and I fall into step beside him. As we move, I find my eyes drifting to the walls, each one covered in carvings that stretch from the floor to the ceiling. Some are intricate, delicate swirls and symbols, while others are rushed and jagged, like someone had been in a hurry. Initials, strange symbols, even full sentences, as if the lodge has been quietly collecting secrets over the years. I slow my pace just a bit, letting my gaze wander, taking in the little details. There’s a heart carved into the wood, faded names inside it, a date so deep in the grain it almost looks like it could split the wood apart. And near the door, there’s a message so faint it’s nearly illegible: "Don’t look up."

I don’t.

When we step into the dining hall, it’s completely empty.

I slow, taking it in. The space is just as intricately designed and furnished as the rest of the cabin. I’m not sure why I’m surprised. Long wooden tables stretch across the room, set with mismatched plates and silverware. Lantern-style lights hang overhead, casting everything in a soft, golden glow. 

He unlatches a few of the old windows as I take my seat, letting the air breathe through the room. It rolls in slow, like it’s been waiting for someone to open the place up again—cool and woodsy, carrying that sharp pine scent mixed with the damp, earthy smell of lake water. It shouldn’t smell good, not really. But it does. It smells like summer. Like scraped knees and mosquito bites and campfire stories you only half-remember later. 

It settles around me in a weirdly soothing way, like the room just exhaled and said finally.

“So,” Ben says, turning to face me with one eyebrow cocked, “what brings you here, counselor?”

There’s something about him that’s disarming. If I had to guess, it’s probably his carefree attitude. But still, for someone I just met, he’s making it way harder than I expected to not just spill everything.

I shrug, tapping the edge of my fork against the table. “No big reason, really. Saw the listing online, thought it sounded pretty chill. Good pay, free food... hard to pass that up.”

His grin stretches wider, like he’s won something. “I knew that would work. That little incentive combo? Totally my idea. I figured it’d reel in a couple of fun ones.”

“You saying I was lured?” 

“I’m saying it worked,” he replies, his voice full of pride, like he’s been waiting to drop that bomb all night.

I bite back a laugh, but that eyebrow of his? That does me in. I can’t help it—my laugh spills out before I even realize it.

“Nice to know I’m early!” A new voice cuts through the moment. We both glance toward the entrance, where a taller woman with dark brown braids steps in, all easy smiles and confidence. She moves like she’s done this before—whatever this is. I give her a quick wave as she slides into the seat across from me.

Ben finishes pouring water into the glass beside him and settles in.

“Nice of you to be early,” he says, nodding at her in an approving demeanor. Her face immediately brightens at the clear compliment, and she slides closer to the table, a small grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Before things can stretch on too long, the rest of the counselors start trickling in, each finding their spot around the table. There’s the shuffle of chairs, the soft murmur of greetings, until finally, everyone settles into place.

Ben stands up then, the scrape of his chair loud enough to catch everyone’s attention. He scans the room with that same easy smile, giving a nod of acknowledgment to everyone around the table.

“Welcome to Camp Redwood,” he says, his voice carrying over the soft chatter, drawing everyone’s eyes to him.

The room erupts with cheers. For a group of just nine counselors, it somehow feels a lot louder than it should.

“Alright, alright,” Ben says, waving a hand as the noise starts to die down. He clears his throat, just loud enough to pull everyone’s focus back. “I’m not gonna kick things off with a lecture on rules—you all definitely read the application, right?” He grins, not waiting for an answer. “Tonight’s about us. The counselors. In a week, ‘us time’ goes out the window. The kids show up and we’re locked in for three months of chaos. I know I got a name tag, but I’m Ben. I’ve been here since the camps opened up six years ago.”

Ben’s gaze shifts to the redhead sitting to his left, who’s busy shoveling a forkful of chicken into his mouth. The guy pauses mid-chew, his eyes flicking up slowly like he can feel the weight of everyone’s attention on him.

“We’ll kick things off with introductions,” Ben says, “and then we’ll vote on how to wrap up the night.” 

This was proofread by friends and edited over the past few weeks before I finally decided to post it—hopefully it’s up to your guys' standards! If you’ve got any tips or comments, feel free to drop them <3

[miodiodavinci]

anyway as for the long and short of how i'm doing currently (mostly the long)

so two weeks ago i sprained my wrist at work lifting boxes, and it's been a slow recovery even with the help of a brace, stretches, rice buddies, and ice packs. i've had to basically put a lot of my hobbies on hold because i've been saving what little i can do with my wrist for all the job prep i need to do on the weekends (i.e. making flyers, updating spreadsheets, creating presentations, moving more boxes, etc...)

hobbies are even further on hold at this point because this last week i injured my shoulder as well, and i can feel that my ankle is getting ready to go with it. i'm doing what i can to minimize the damage (i.e. got a work cart, have had coworkers come with me to storage, actually sitting down and resting when i'm on break, etc...) but there's not a lot that can be done considering these are Core Aspects of my job and my contract goes until spring (and also like. whole complex situation where i can't leave without screwing over myself and a lot of people i care about)

it's a shit situation all around, but at the very least i'm getting paid a reasonable amount and it's covering my expenses jfgjksdhkfg

(though for all the work i do, god oh god i wish it was doing more than just covering my expenses)

having to take a break from my hobbies has put me in a weird headspace, though. or like it's less of a weird headspace and more that there's finally this pause that has me reevaluating what i want to do in my spare time

i've been consumed by work for the past like four years of my life, this last year was kind of the culmination of that. between completing my internship, finishing my degree, surviving The Horror (read: had a really, truly horrifying cancer scare last year), doing the yamaha collab, and taking care of the flurry of job-hunting stuff that needed to be done post-graduation, i don't know if i actually got a chance to so much as breathe until august

. . . . except in august i immediately collapsed and rotted the entire month away skjdfhgkhsdf

i'm burnt out, i think. like. genuinely, really severely burnt out. the more i think about it, the more i feel like i just need a year of doing nothing.

just. absolutely nothing.

which i've told myself in the past. several times. always in a big showy way. so much so that i feel silly saying it now because i've been saying it for years in the descriptions of my videos and in posts on my blog.

"i'm tired of being beholden to past me!! this year, i'm letting go of my expectations for myself and just doing what i want!!" (<< this user has said this at least 7 separate times and has failed to make good on it every single time)

but i think why i've never been able to follow through is because in spite of all the dropping projects that no longer interested me and not feeling obligated to see everything through, i still held on to the expectation that at the end of it, i'd still post something. but like.

i think posting doesn't really matter to me as much anymore??? if at all???

which isn't to say "i'm putting my foot down and never creating any new vocaloid work ever again," but it's also like. i can't let myself sit with the expectation of "yeah i'll just make things for fun!! and when they're done, i'll post them!!' because that changes the focus from making something for me into making something for others to see, which is. a different beast to care for skdjfgklhsdlfg

i keep seeing a lot of things where i have the opportunity to keep building on what rice and i were able to make as part of the yamaha collab: alternate box arts, matching galaco design, cool new english covers featuring bespoke cover art of the new designs but when i think of starting those, i feel utterly drained, and when i think of how i'll feel once they're finished, i imagine it'll be akin to "alright, i've checked that off the list. what's the next thing i should do not disappear and be a failure?"

. . . . . which is really, really separate from doing things as a hobby because they make me happy OTL

this past year i've really reconnected with my close friends (in part because i stopped having time to scroll online and didn't want anyone to know when i was online because i legitimately did not have the energy to respond) and i've noticed i really truly enjoy just batting around our ocs with each other so more than i've enjoyed any of the vocaloid work that i've put out in the past five years skjfghldkfg

i've been doing vocaloid things for over ten years now, and the collaboration with yamaha was quite literally something i couldn't have even dreamed of, much less imagined it would have just fallen into my lap the way it did. coming off the end of it and my internship though, there's this feeling that's been building for years now where it feels like the effort i put in is just not proportional to the satisfaction i get out of it. it feels more like something i'm supposed to do otherwise i'd just be squandering all the work i've put in and all the attention i've gotten.

. . . . . . i just want to live man 😂 i'm caught in a mental tangle that feels difficult to unravel. spring mio was at the end of his fucking rope, but fall mio is finally has the time to sit down with the slack and is wondering if it's worth it to keep pulling for all i'm worth when i can always just go over to my friend's house and have a funny little sleep over (metaphorical or literal both apply)

i'm not decided by any means but i'm definitely thinking about it.

it's the fact that it's been 2 years since i've released salvador, and i went into it thinking i'd be cool and professional about it, with lots of covers and frequent updates because i used to make lots of UTAU covers in high school, but then i got paralyzed by all the "shoulds" wrapped up in the process and i just. stopped working.

when i say i want to make X cover of Y song, am i really saying that i want to go out of my way to do all these things?? or am i just imagining what momentary satisfaction i'll feel to see another thumbnail on my channel??

...

(face in hands) this ended up being. a lot fucking longer than i meant for it to be jksdfhlkghsdkfg

hopefully most people have clicked away by this point w

it's the tear between the things i genuinely want (making things with friends that stay between us friends) the things i kind of want out of necessity (opening up commissions so i can supplement my income), the things i said i'd do and can't back out now on, and the things i told myself i would do but can't really must up plenty of positive emotions about (but can feel plenty of frightful, guilty emotions when i think of not doing them)

i'll figure it out eventually. even in the worst case scenario, i plan to keep my accounts up as archives, so it's not like my work will go anywhere w i'd still want it to be there once i decide i'm ready to come back to it w

[theblueskyphoenix]

Been a very tired cyber elf as of late. Working full time retail is a lot. (To no one's surprise.)

Apologies for slow updates on stuff and lack of posting in general. Don't have as much free time these days and most of the stuff I am working on behind the scenes just isn't ready for the public yet. Plus with some certain projects I'm just burnt out right now. I'll get to it eventually just now is not the time. So... just need to take it slow and get my bearings together. Stuff is still coming I just need a moment to pull myself back together.

Just gonna focus on some fun art pieces for a bit and work my way up back to big projects. Hopefully once I'm adjusted we'll get back to some form of rhythm. For now it's just going to be random posting when I feel like it.

Thank you for your time.

[ofmermaidstories]

I recently read your Something (just like this) fic and oh my god IT'S SO GOOD!! I love how you wrote Deku, Sero and Mineta. He feels like his pervert self, but more mature and fleshed out?! I even thought about his dumbass 'offer' for a second LIKE WHAT, HE KINDA CHARISMATIC...'ok Deku boy I'm switching sides' . You made him so tolerable I even looked forward to reading more of him in the latest chapter, and I audibly shrieked for real, worrying about MINETAS safety at one point like- … You made me look forward to read about this grape-of-a-man…. Your writing skills got me flabbergasted fr.

If you could answer, do you have any future projects you're thinking of writing in mind? Like any characters you'd like to write about as well? Whatever you may be working on in the future it'll be a delight to read! (The question might've been answered but I'm not too familiar with navigating tumblr Oop I apologize!).

The way you structure your sentances is top tier and so easy to understand and follow for someone who's first language isn't english, like mee lmao. Also happy to see an author who take their time on writing and updating as they self seem fit!!! So many authors get burnt out and tired of writing because they ‘must’ update regularly.

could you imagine if like, Mineta had accompanied Reader back to the suite and then stayed to be drinking buddies on the balcony???? omg…. and then like, they’re passing the bottle of Champange that like, Mineta lifted for them and their eyes meet…. dark and glittery….. I like to think they wouldn’t make out, simply because Mineta is for the Bros and not the Hos, but like…. you know, the tension would’ve been there, and then like, naturally that’s the moment that BAM, DEKU!

don’t mind me im just cackling to myself imagining it. actually, Anon, you’ve reminded me that i’ve been meaning to write a something!mineta one-shot for @vivianvampyric!! we’re a rock-star in it, and if i can find a way to shoehorn like, a theme of repeating damaging patterns/behaviours then i absolutely will. timeline wise it’ll have to happen after something ends sooo… hmm. 🧐 will have to plot it. but it’s on my list of future projects!! don’t apologise for not being able to navigate around this blog/tumblr—i think tumblr is quite a hard site to do anything more than like, click through blogs!! especially when you come to blogs like mine that like, just have no links LOL. i should probably fix that…. i’ve just been lazy. 😔🥺 and tbh i hate any kind of coding, no matter how minimal!!!! i had to get tumblr support to step in and help me fix my links in the blurb/header thing. 😔😔

but omg, please, you have no idea how much your ask delighted me!!!!!! apart from the fics i’ve listed in the above link (which i consider “high priority”), there’s a couple of other fic ideas floating around in my head. Like, there’s a second cowboy idea I’d like to write, but i keep calling it my not-a-fic because a) i don’t want to write the ending (lmao) and b) i’m not even sure i’ll post it when im done. 🧐 i can’t make up my mind, which means i’ve been slow with working on it (and only doing it for fun!).

Thank-you, though. 🥺 You’re very kind for coming by and saying hello—and for saying such nice things. 🥺🌷🌾🍊💜🌴 I’ve been working on the fifth chapter for something so i will make it a point to work faster—and to try and make it just as fun to read. 🥹📖🌷