#because we like to think we write purely for the joy of it

[tippenfunkaport]

That viral post that's going around about how people who write "book quality" mlm fic are too "normal" to publish and have real jobs so only "weird" people publish their "shitty" fanfic is so completely out of touch with reality and I am giving a massive side eye to everyone reblogging it.

Not only is it completely, easily verifiably untrue (you cannot enter any professional writing space without tripping over a dozen grizzled scifi writers who got their start by filing off the serial numbers and publishing their Star Trek fanfic even going back decades ago??? it's a whole thing?? plus how can you look at the mlm category on Amazon right now and say with a straight face that people aren't publishing shitty Spirk and Stucky fanfic??? Oh, honey...) it's also the perfect example of this kind of sneering elitism that true artists would never sully themselves by seeking profit, they do it only for the purity of the thing that always somehow leads back to, "no one should be paid to make art, actually."

The only reason you're seeing more published fanfic right now has nothing to do with the idealistic purity of your hypothetical government employee written smut of the past vs the debased scribbles of those awful straights of today and everything to do with the fact that a) self-publishing has created a voracious readership that wants a ton of content so it's become a viable, flexible income stream for many, especially disabled people b) anyone can publish now with self-publishing tools so there are less gatekeepers and c) lockdown got a lot of people into fandom and therefore writing who never tried it before.

And if you really think there's no "shitty" published mlm and no "book-quality" m/f writing out there that started as fanfic, then you are clearly not a reader so why are you even talking about this?

[jasontoddiefor]

Yeah sure we’ve all binged a long fic, but have you ever read a WIP and followed someone’s life?

Tidbits of information - (“I graduated today!”) - and small joys (“It’s my birthday!”) and you get to be there to say “This chapter made me cry, happy birthday, thank you for gifting us this”.

I remember reading this fic of someone at the end of high school, older than me then. They seemed infinitely wise, spoke of their future career and getting into the college they wanted. I remember them posting on days they felt like nothing could bring them down - and on days the whole world did and it’s the aftermath of a hospital visit. Cancer, I think it was, their father. I got to the end of the story, I know their father was fine, but also they got to finish their WIP. I graduated three years later than them, still dutifully wrote thank you notes in every comment. I wonder if they remember me, or just the collective of people reading the story as it updates.

Four years ago I was into my first year of university, my first year of figuring out being out in public spaces. I made excuses as to why my name didn’t match my paperwork and read a fic on the train, the same five chapters over and over again for the next years as I thought the story abandoned. It updated this week after such a long hiatus, I left another thank you comment.

There’s an author I love, they update their stories like a clockwork. When they don’t, I check their blog, just to see if their doing alright, not because I feel like they owe me, just to ensure whether I better get out my laptop to write that really detailed university level essay chapter analysis to get them smiling when their day sucked.

And then, once, when I was 17, I read a fic that hadn’t updated in over a decade. I wasn’t even in primary school when it started posting. On the last chapter, I left a comment that, in retrospect, was horribly rambly and most likely full of grammar mistakes. The author replied and though I couldn’t see their face, I thought of them crying. They were married now, had children, and hadn’t thought about this fic in years. They went through their files again, found another half written chapter and an outline. I got two new chapters to read that year.

And then, recently, someone told me they got back into writing original fiction because of my comments. I get to read nearly weekly chapters.

I love binge reading a finished fic, but nothing is ever going to top the feeling of anticipation of waiting for a chapter, the pure joy when someone tells you I was done with this, but you made me think of it again, so this is for you.

Anyway, I think we should romanticize reading WIPs more, growing up alongside the authors writing the stories we love.

[dexaroth]

looong post about missing using backpacks and high-school experiences and personal feelings on the general 'busy/executive' look from carrying luggage and stuff. idk lots of thoughts here to summarize

theres this one hole that being done with high-school left me that's just. having a place to go. being busy, sort of..

having a backpack full of trinkets and your pencil case filled with clips and highlighters. or the rare bunches of printing and colored paper for the art projects or those mathematical rulers you used 3 times the whole year

and most importantly.. the feeling of being a Guy who has Places to go. look at all this luggage! the amount of things I need that goes beyond a simple bag! quite the work eh?

of course half of that perception is just 'wow! executive adult with responsibilities!' but not entirely, there are definitely tasks that require a lot of gear and stuff. filming crews, folks with laptops etc. and then there's the elusive Guy with a Big Bag With Wheels. thats the peak of the ideal

as with everything in my life specifically it all circles back to being disabled and having to stay at home bc I literally am not capable of physically doing anything even remotely close to what the generic student/employed person does and I think that helps a lot to the kind of romanticized view I have of this sorta thing

in a good day a majority of people would rather not have to carry and worry about a pack full of stuff or having to carry the weight of a computer and then some. but it's not that bad if you like/love what you're doing even if it requires those things yknow?

every year of high-school, even if it was the worst experience of my life that degraded me mentally physically and made me so fucked I had to cut myself in between or during classes.. I still looked up to the starting week and the feeling of a kind of new beginning. and packing everything to be super ready to whatever was to come like I was about to spend a month in the wild or climb a mountain

camping and stuff is another kind of 'look at all this shit we're packing and gadgets we have to make fire or little lanterns or makeshift homes (tents) that we have' and its just. holy shit man you sure are busy with a lot of stuff to do huh. and you've got the money to buy it all and friends to enjoy it with you. and you're going to the woods for fun and not to run away from your life because everything sucks. you've got your life all figured out! if only I could also match this unrealistic utopic vision that's sold in every sleeping bag package lol! 🙃

and the rest of this romanticized view also extends a bit to gender and self esteem in a way

of course I, a disabled person, would love to be a person that Can go places and even Has places to go and is important enough to have a complex task that needs all that luggage. and looks like a guy. maybe even a fancy guy with fancy bags and fancy clothing. it's all very important, being all that! unlike being a nobody that has to ask for a seat bc he can't stand for 2 minutes without crumpling like a wet sock because of his fucked up spine and spaghetti muscles

everybody looks up to someone who has something that they don't and wish they had or were like.. and I'm so miserable I just wish I mattered enough to be that average guy crossing the street with his bag on his shoulder. and it just so happens that's asking too much of life in my case

[drchucktingle]

What flavor of queer are you, if that's not too invasive of a question?

question is just fine with chuck it is kind of interesting story.

on LGBTQIA trot i am TECHNICALLY two letters

easy first one is B that does not need any more explanation. that has always been my trot

second way is what i have learned through talkin with my online buds way of non-dysphoric trans. it has taken chuck LONG time to understand this but it has been fruitful journey i think. long ago chuck would post online about becoming other people or things or concepts or wrestling with my IDENTITY as a buckaroo (whether that meant becoming sweet barbara or becoming my reverse twin or becoming the entire seahawks footballs team, very handsome). in fitting with my entire heckin LIFE some buds probably thought these were jokes when they were not at all. they were just personal artistic bubbles tumbling up and popping in ways i didnt understand yet.

but through posting these thoughts and THEN writing trans tinglers and talking to my trans buds online, i started to realize there are all kinds of versions of a trans identity INCLUDING the ones that rolled around deep inside of me that i never had a name for.

three events helped chuck understand this

first: the trans buds chuck talked to while researching harriet porber said 'well i always knew if i could press a button and change my body to match my gender i would instantly do this' and chuck thought 'of course woudlnt we all do this?' and they said 'well no, do you feel this way?' and i would say 'yes very strongly'. i will FOREVER be grateful to trans community for these conversations and maybe it is another reason why being anti-gatekeeping is so important to chuck.

second: thought about all the games i have ever played like a dang videogame or a role playing game, chuck would ALWAYS choose ladybuck character. didnt really think this was a unique thing at time but it is a pattern across whole life

third: chuck was trotting around with some buds and they all said 'whose bod would you choose if you could transform into any body?' (this is common topic for chuck believe it or not.) and the buckaroo guys went around naming the usual brats pitt or handsome channing and it got to chuck and i said 'obviously brie larson' and then the dang guys just kind of stared at chuck and then i realized 'oh, i didnt even think my answer was unusual but i guess they were only talkin guy bods'

these three things happened pretty close to one another but they were all bubbling up for decades and expressed in various ways even chuck did not entirely understand

anyway. chucks way is NOT that i feel uncomfortable in my body and it does not bring me grief. i am not upset about it honestly. i do not even THINK about it most days. however, it is all TRUE and in a purely technical and utilitarian sense of A PLUS B then YES, male would not be my preferred gender.

didnt talk on this for a while because there are MANY dysphoric trans buckaroos who go through a lot of hardships and i have gone through ABSOLUTELY NONE IN THIS WAY. it has not made my life more difficult and it does not haunt me, so i do not want to have my voice drown out other trans buds who need space to shout. i am very privileged so even though technically this applies to chuck i do not need or want any bonus points.

that beings said, part of my journey on the autistic spectrum was to recognize that EVEN THOUGH my personal story is not tragic, it is still an important one to get out there onto this timeline. IN FACT there should be more stories of buckaroos who love being autistic like chuck. i am PROUD of my trot and i love my autism (this is also why i wanted to explicitly say my lead character in camp damascus is autistic)

so in the same way, when directly asked, i will say: i am technically non-dysphoric trans ALSO this has not weighed on my life at all. my story is not tragic it is full of joy and excitement. i will not shy away from this because there are all kinds of buckaroos on this spectrum.

anyway that is my VERY LONG TROT hope you enjoyed getting to know chuck a little more thank you for this question buckaroo

[vampireimiko]

I saw that you were taking requests and was wondering if you could write a titans fic where reader is dick’s girlfriend and she’s like a mom to literally everyone (rachel,tim,gar,jason etc) and dick kinda finds that hot/cute

Mom-Like

warnings, none!

note, couldn't come up with a way to write tim into this since he wasn't in earlier seasons !!

Everyone loved you; you were more than just Dick’s girlfriend—you were the heart of the team. Whenever chaos threatened to take over the Tower, your calm presence would set everything right. You knew just how to handle Gar’s wild energy, Rachel’s quiet moods. Even Jason, with his tough exterior and sharp tongue, softened around you.

Dick often joked about how he was sure the team liked you more than him. But he wouldn't mind if that was true, after all, you were like a mother to them.

You were the one they turned to when things got tough, the one they trusted with their fears and secrets. There was a time where Gar slipped up and called you mom, Rachel and Jason clown him for it time to time.

The room had fallen into a stunned silence before bursting into laughter. Gar’s face had pure embarrassment on it, and he had tried to stammer out an apology, but you just laughed, ruffling his hair.

"Well, you do have that mom energy," Jason had snickered, earning a glare from Gar.

"Yeah, I mean, she does make sure you eat your veggies," Rachel added with a sly smile, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. "And nags you to clean up after yourself."

"Hey!" Gar protested, with playfulness still evident in his words.

The teasing hadn’t stopped there. Whenever Gar would forget to pick up his socks or leave dishes in the sink, Jason and Rachel would remind him, "What would Mom think?" They’d snicker as Gar rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath, but he never seemed to mind.

In fact, it made him smile. It made all of them smile. Because, deep down, they knew it was true. You were more than just a teammate or a friend. You were family.

Dick loved seeing you interact with the team, you had this natural charm to you, something that made everyone feel safe around you. It was something he deeply admired about you and it made him fall in love with you more and more each day.

And in quiet moments, when it was just the two of you, Dick would pull you close, his voice soft and full of love. "You know," he’d whisper, brushing a strand of hair from your face, "they're not the only ones who think of you as family." His eyes would meet yours, filled with a sincerity that made your heart ache. "I don’t know what we’d do without you."

You playfully rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face was tender as you pulled him into a sweet kiss. "I love you," you said softly, your lips brushing against his as you pulled away.

A mischievous glint appeared in Dick's eyes, his lips curling into a teasing smile. "Y'know," he began, his tone light but his gaze serious, "I wouldn't mind us having our own kid or kids in the future." He teased.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind. Then, you smiled, leaning into him, your hand resting on his chest. "You think we’d make good parents?" you asked, your voice a soft whisper.

Dick’s smile widened, his fingers intertwining with yours. "With you? I know we would," he said confidently. "Besides, you’ve already got plenty of practice with this bunch."

You laughed, the sound light and full of joy. "Well, if they’re anything like Gar, we’re in for a wild ride."

Dick chuckled, his arms tightening around you. "I wouldn’t have it any other way."

additional note ! i didn't realize how much i missed writing for dick bro 🤑🤞🏾

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

[goldenhypen]

｡⋅✴︎｡⚬⋅ WHAT ARE WE?

syn. the way you and riki act as best friends has everyone questioning what you two really are.

riki x reader ⋅ fluff + best friends acting not so platonically? ⋅ 0.6k ⋅ 100% based off a dream i had recently- enjoy! :’>

laughter. riki’s favourite sound. and not just any laughter. your laughter.

with your eyes half shut, head swung back and tummy hurting in pure bliss, sounds of joy left your lips, all because of something silly riki had said that you already barely remember. you don’t even know why you found it funny, but perhaps that’s a quality that ran in your close friendship with riki: any crazy, ridiculous thing your best friend would do or say could so easily elicit laughter from you. he likes to call it a talent, and you just roll your eyes at the thought.

you and riki weren’t the only ones at the table. on the other side of you was jake, and sitting across was sunoo and jungwon as you all shared a nice, warm meal together that jake had ordered earlier. and there you five sat on their empty practice room floor after a long day.

a satisfied sigh finally left your lips once you recovered and got control of your breathing again. realizing you were full, you turned to your side and faced riki with a grin. he looked at you through the sides of his eyes but didn’t question your motives. and before he knew it, his body was being pushed away slightly as you adjusted the position of his legs that were once crossed, now spread apart.

already knowing what you wanted, he opened up his arms for you, and you sat yourself right in front of him, back facing his body, and you leaned against him, letting your weight fall onto his.

his arms wrapped around and encapsulated you before you brought yours out from under his, your hands easily finding their way to his wrists.

“you better not fall asleep,” he said quietly beside your ear, almost sending a rush down your spine. his tone was as though he was offering you some sort of deal, that if he were to let you do this with him, the only condition would be that you don’t fall asleep.

and so you nodded but decided to be a little rebellious, closing your eyes anyway, despite it being against what he had told you.

the few minutes that went by weren’t enough for you to fall asleep yet, and suddenly you heard sunoo and jungwon giggling across from you. you were still fully conscious, just unable to see behind your eyelids, and you could hear as they snapped a picture of you because someone forgot to turn their phone’s sound off. you only continued to pretend to be asleep as you heard and felt riki chuckle against you as he found you cute and funny.

however, you lulled into such a relaxed state that you eventually did fall into a nice–though short–slumber, content in riki’s arms.

the way he brushed your hair from your eyes, and the way he watched you adoringly went unnoticed by you who was asleep in his arms, and is something you’ll never be aware of… that is until you see all the pictures and videos sunoo took but were not long lived as his giggles were a dead giveaway and had riki stopping him (not only because he was embarrassed but also because he didn’t want anyone to wake you).

just know that riki adores you–and he’ll never let this reach your ears, but… he wishes that you’d use him like this more often.

A/N. had a dream that was exactly like this and so i decided to write it for y’all to experience it too :’> idk why it was riki and NOT JAKE THO???? but i think it turned out pretty cute so :D hope you enjoyed! letting me know you did would mean a lot to me <3 thanks for reading!

M.LIST ⋅ TAGLIST FORM

TAGLIST 1. @raimbows4u @sultrybaby @kpop-nct @ajayke-reads @enhacolor @enhasfever @nokacchan @yizhoutv @xiaoderrrr @soobin-chois @tyunni @shinsou-rii @softkpopplace @belle643 @nar-nia @pshchives @sunjakes @ethereal-engene @yeosayang @4ri-ki @sunoksunny @jaeyunjakesim @whoschr @enaus @hoes4hoseok @palajae @clarakyunisageek @annoyingbitch83 @wonswondrland @rcrystallocks @stepout-09-15 @zeraaax @enhasengene @ktttwwn @pistachiophobia @svnoofy @sweetjaemss @vatterie @mnsnts @yeseoist @azurez @milisabunny @wonniestars @iamliacamila @rikislady @kazmura @nicholasluvbot @vickytodoroki @en-chantedtomeetyou @s00buwu

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Blue Skies and Green Eyes (Jake Seresin x Reader)

A/N: so I decided to just write an air show meet cute for Jake, Bradley and Bob because, even with a poll, how could I ever choose? So, here's the first of three, I guess? 😅

pairing: Jake Seresin x reader

content/warnings: pure fluff, air show inaccuracies because the last time I went to one I was 9, and it was in a cornfield, reader has a named niece and nephew, no physical description of reader given other than an allusion to them being tall.

word count: 2.1k

On the sun-soaked beach, your niece and nephew climbed over one another eagerly on the blanket you had carefully arranged, vying for the best spot to witness the spectacle unfolding overhead. The air show, a cherished tradition passed down from your father to you and your brother, had become an annual pilgrimage for your family. Determined to keep the legacy alive, you eagerly took charge of the tradition when your brother couldn't make it to your nephew's first air show.

For the past seven years, this had been your unique tradition with them. As the jets roared to life in the sky, the kids engaged in a lively dispute, each competing for an unobstructed view of the aerial acrobatics. Your brow furrowed as their bickering escalated, prompting an eye roll from you. Seizing the opportunity to diffuse the tension, you chuckled and settled between them, effectively creating a barrier that halted their squabble.

“Hey!” They both protested, shaking their heads in dismay.

“If it's the only way to prevent a full-blown war between you two, then I'm planting myself right here,” you declared with a playful smirk.

Mia, your spirited niece, responded with a pout and crossed arms, while Aiden, her older brother, countered by sticking his tongue out at her, a mischievous grin adorning his face as he comfortably claimed his spot beside you.

“Aiden,” you warned, catching his silent final shot at his sister out of the corner of your eye.

“Sorry.”

A warm smile adorned your face as you, along with the children, gazed skyward, captivated by the mesmerizing display of aircraft maneuvering through a series of intricate twists, turns, and loops. Aiden erupted in cheers and enthusiastic whistles, his excitement bubbling over as a FA-18 Super Hornet executed a flawless barrel roll high above. Engrossed in the spectacle, he fervently waved at the aircraft above him, a hopeful gesture that the pilot might catch a glimpse and reciprocate in some way. Beside him, Mia eagerly pointed upward, her eyes widening in sheer wonder as the plane effortlessly navigated a knife-edge flight, leaving her with an awestruck expression that mirrored the spectacle unfolding before her.

As the airshow continued, the sky became a canvas for more daring aerobatics. Another set of aircraft roared onto the scene, executing synchronized maneuvers that left trails of smoke swirling against the azure backdrop. Aiden and Mia's attention darted from one spectacle to another, their faces alive with awe and exhilaration. You couldn't help but share in their enthusiasm, reveling in the joy of witnessing these aerial feats with the same awestruck gaze you had as a child yourself, completely fascinated by the skill executed in every move. 

Suddenly, a squadron of jets soared in tight formation, their wings almost touching as they painted the sky with precision. The deafening roar of engines filled the air as the pilots skillfully executed a breathtaking sequence of loops and rolls, creating a symphony of motion that left the onlookers breathless. 

Aiden, his eyes glued to the spectacle, whispered in amazement, "I want to be a pilot one day, just like them!" 

Mia, equally captivated, nodded in agreement, her imagination ignited by the incredible display unfolding above. 

“Do you think we could meet them?!” Aiden asked excitedly as he turned his attention to you.

“I don’t know, honey, they’re probably really busy,” you explained with a nod of your head, knowing that the chances were unlikely to be in your favour.

“Can we try?! Please?” 

You looked at Aiden’s pleading face, and then to his sister, who had decided to match his facial expressions, their innocent faces making nearly impossible for you to say no to. 

“Fine, we can try. But I’m not making any promises, guys. You know, they’re really busy, and they’re actual military pilots, they’ve got lots of stuff to do.”

The children both cheered the moment you agreed to their request, and you could tell that the last portion of your reply was falling on deaf ears. You huffed a mock dramatic sigh as you squeezed both of them into a tight hug, laughing softly. 

After the airshow had concluded, all Mia and Aiden could talk about was how you were taking them to try and meet some of the pilots. You felt an anxious knot in the pit of your stomach, nervous that you’d be unable to fulfill their wish. Holding both of the children’s hands, you approached the airfield fence where the pilots could be seen chatting after the show, their planes merely feet away from where you stood. A group of pilots who appeared to be in their early to late 30s stood together, laughing cordially as they spoke. One of the pilots, a tall blonde with an air of pure, unbridled confidence to his stance took notice of you as you stood with Mia and Aiden. He waved his hand to say hello, and Aiden practically squealed in excitement, jumping up and down on the spot.

The blonde pilot raised his hand to his colleagues, appearing to excuse himself for a moment. Suddenly, you noticed Aiden’s attention turn to the side. You and Mia followed his gaze, noticing that the blonde pilot was now on your side of the fence that separated the three of you from the military aircraft in the field. 

“Hi, did y’all enjoy the airshow?” The aviator asked, flashing a charming smile at you as he lifted his sunglasses to rest on top of his perfectly coiffed hair.

Aiden nodded his head in a stunned silence, starstruck by the man standing before him. The allure of the charismatic Navy pilot was undeniable. His tall, athletic frame exuded confidence, and his sun-kissed skin bore witness to countless hours spent in the cockpit under the Californian sun. Those stunning pale green eyes seemed to hold the vastness of the sky, hinting at the adventures he'd encountered soaring through the clouds. Jake's charming smile had a magnetic quality, drawing you in with its warmth and openness. The subtle southern drawl in his voice added an extra layer of appeal, creating a melody that resonated with the thrill of the airshow and the laid-back atmosphere of the beach.

“We did,” you said after a moment’s hesitation, trying to not appear like a lovestruck teenager as your eyes briefly met with his.

The pilot knelt down to Aiden and Mia’s level, smiling at them both with the same charming grin he gave you a moment ago.

“Do you kids like planes?” 

“I do!” Aiden and Mia both responded in unison. 

“That’s awesome to hear! My name is Jake, I fly planes for the US Navy, see that one there?” He beamed proudly as he gestured towards one of the grey aircraft parked in the distance, “That’s my plane. All of our planes have our names on them so we know who’s is who’s, and our callsigns, so we can just use one word to talk to each other on the radio.”

“What’s your callsign?” Aiden asked, tilting his head as he looked at Jake.

“Hangman. Like the game, where you have to guess letters to find out what the secret word is, do you know that one?”

Aiden nodded his head and grinned. You couldn’t help but admire how patient and friendly Jake was towards Aiden and Mia, taking care to answer their eager questions with thorough answers and explanations, leaving nothing unanswered.  As he spoke passionately about his experiences as a Top Gun graduate stationed at Miramar, you couldn't help but be captivated by the combination of his professionalism, adventurous spirit, and undeniable charm.

“Do you have a rank?” Aiden quizzed, tilting his head.

“Of course! Lieutenant Jake Seresin, US Navy,” Jake grinned, “And what’s your name, little guy?”

“I’m Aiden, and this is my sister, Mia,” Aiden explained, before introducing you as somewhat of an afterthought due to his excitement.

Jake looked up at you, a genuine smile forming on his lips. His green eyes stayed on you, and you could feel a sense of curiosity in his gaze. He turned his attention back to your niece and nephew, his hand resting on his knee as he looked at them both.

“Nice to meet y’all! Maybe, if your aunt says it’s ok, you guys could come back here one weekend, and I could give y’all a tour of the planes, let you meet some other pilots? Sound fun?”

Jake's offer had your niece and nephew practically buzzing with excitement. Their pleading eyes and enthusiastic pleas tugged at your heartstrings, mirroring the eagerness that now danced in your own eyes. You exchanged a glance with Jake, whose genuine smile hinted at an underlying warmth. 

"Well, Lieutenant Seresin," you responded with a playful grin, "it seems like you've just won yourself two eager co-pilots for that future tour of yours."

The prospect of spending more time with Jake and experiencing the world of naval aviation up close had ignited a spark of anticipation within you. As he continued to chat with Aiden and Mia, effortlessly captivating them with tales of high-flying adventures, you couldn't help but appreciate the sincerity in his demeanor. The beach, once a stage for the breathtaking airshow, now held the promise of more extraordinary moments to come. 

With a subtle twinkle in his pale green eyes, he stood up and straightened his posture to his full height, easily taller than you by more than a few inches. He turned his attention back to you, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. 

"You know," he began, his pale green eyes locking onto yours, "meeting someone as captivating as you wasn't part of the airshow program today. Consider me pleasantly surprised."

A warm flush crept across your cheeks as you chuckled at his smooth remark. Jake continued, his voice carrying the lilt of his unmistakable southern drawl, "I was thinking, maybe when I'm not up in the skies, we could grab a coffee or a drink. Talk about something other than planes and maneuvers, you know?"

The subtle invitation hung in the air, and you found yourself nodding, unable to suppress a growing smile. 

"I'd like that," you replied, your eyes meeting his with a shared sense of anticipation.

“How about you share your number with me? That way, we can figure out when to meet up again. And it saves you from having to try and track me down on a Naval base."

Feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation, you retrieved your phone, fingers tapping out the digits as you exchanged contact information. Jake reciprocated, a grin playing on his lips as he entered your number into his phone. The exchange felt like a subtle promise, a digital tether that connected two individuals eager to navigate beyond the boundaries of the beach encounter.

With phones back in pockets, there was a shared acknowledgment that this exchange wasn't just about convenience but a mutual interest in seeing where this connection could lead. As the warm sunlight cascaded down over you, your niece and nephew’s muffled giggles and whispers in the air, and the promise of future messages and potential meetings lingering, it left you both with a sense of excitement for what lay ahead.

"Well, it looks like it's time for me and these two little aviators to head out," you remarked with a playful glint in your eyes. 

The prospect of saying goodbye brought a hint of reluctance to the moment. With a gentle nudge, you encouraged Mia and Aiden to express their gratitude. 

"Come on, you two," you said with a smile, "let's thank Lieutenant Seresin for the amazing day." The kids, still brimming with excitement, turned to Jake, expressions eager.

With genuine appreciation in their voices, Mia and Aiden chorused their thanks.

 "Thank you, Lieutenant Seresin!"

Jake chuckled warmly, crouching down to their eye level. "Y’all can just call me Jake, you know. No need for all the formality, I’m only Lieutenant Seresin if my CO is around." He winked at them, his easygoing nature resonating with their youthful enthusiasm.

As the kids bid their farewells, Jake turned to you, his gaze holding a hint of something more. "Until next time, I suppose," he said, his tone carrying a mix of sincerity and anticipation.

You smiled, reciprocating the sentiment. "Absolutely. Until next time, Jake." 

With a final exchange of glances and well wishes, you, Mia, and Aiden left the beach, the echoes of the airshow and the promising connection with Jake lingering in the warm California breeze. Armed with plans to coordinate with the kids' parents for a tour with Jake, and plans to schedule a date with him, you hoped this encounter marked the beginning of a connection that extended beyond the sandy shores of Coronado Beach.

[leahsgf]

Ooh could write about Bubba's first word?? Maybe at a training session with Leah going from serious football player to an emotional softie because her bubba has just said her first word

FIRST WORDS - leah williamson

leah williamson x child!reader | bubba masterlist

this is such a cute idea :( i can just picture her getting so emotional at every little milestone her bubba has

leah could tell that you were on the verge of talking any day now. your babbles were slowly becoming more and more understandable and frequent, and as much as her teammates made fun of her for it, she felt like you were beginning to grasp and react to what she was saying when she spoke to you.

she had been desperately trying to get you to finally say your first word at every possible moment, even getting the england girls to call her ‘mama’ when around you on international break in hopes that it’d encourage you.

of course, that didn’t happen, and typical williamson style, you picked an absolute moment to actually do it.

you were in the arsenal changing room, toddling around aimlessly (your newest skill that you’d picked up randomly the week after your first birthday - skipping crawling entirely and just standing up and walking one day) whilst leah lectured the team after a particularly weak training session.

they just let you be, knowing that you’d only be properly content for more than a few minutes in your mother’s arms especially now viv was gone, and with how enthusiastic her angry hand gestures had become as she spoke, that wasn’t possible.

you were happily playing with your stuffed gunnersaurus, your all time favourite toy, not that leah would allow it to possibly be anything else, when it was ripped from your hold and held behind someone’s back - just out of your reach.

you didn’t even need to look up to know who had taken it, a certain young australian having a tendency to tease you often, in exactly the same way every time.

you whined and pulled at her shorts, a grumpy expression, much like the one your mum was currently also wearing across your features.

“kyra stop it, give it back to her.” steph whispered through gritted teeth, kicking her subtly - not wanting to disturb her vice captain, especially not mid rant.

“i don’t have anything!” kyra protested, her voice a notch too high, earning a slight glare from kim, who stood beside leah, nodding in agreement and pitching into the conversation every now and again.

only kyra would have this fight with a one year old.

your whines very quickly turned into whimpers, and you were heading towards a full blown meltdown unless you were given back your teddy, which never happened that easily, or comforted. usually, you found kyra’s teasing funny and would giggle along or playfully smack her until she gave it back to you - but this talk had run over into your nap time, and you had suddenly become very sick of not being cuddled.

so, you did the only thing you could think of.

“mama.”

“so we need to go into these games with the attitude that we actually want to be there! cause at the moment it’s looking-” the entire room fell into silence as they turned to face you, leah choking on her own words as she looked across to you in disbelief - the realisation of what you just said hitting her.

“did she just-”

leah could only nod, not even knowing who she was replying to as her frown immediately switched to the biggest grin, and tears threatened to spill down her cheeks, a complete contrast to how stern she had been minutes, seconds even, prior.

“mama” you whined, frustrated still and not understanding why the room had suddenly gone silent - running over to her and not even having to use your grabby hands for once as she instantly scooped you up into her arms.

“oh my clever, clever girl! i’m here bubba, mama’s here.” she peppered kisses all over your face, throwing you up in the air and catching you with pure joy - as you giggled and beamed at her, your incoming meltdown long forgotten.

“well it’s official kyra the baby is smarter than you! how does that feel?” caitlin cackled, earning a wave of laughter across the room.

“hey technically you should all me thanking me, so you’re welcome?” she responded in an attempt to be clever - it instead coming out like a question as she handed leah back the dinosaur, still slightly intimidated by her, but to her relief the blonde simply shook her head in response, too overwhelmed and now soft to care.

she’s sure that one day she’ll find you saying her name constantly a little much, and would learn early on that you very much take after her in the yapping department.

but for now - as she cradled you and you gently patted away her tears, repeating her name over and over, it’s one of the best days of her life.

[earthtooz]

Just an idea that popped in my head (because i love you and your writing) but how do you think gojo would react when he's sitting on couch, waiting for reader to get ready so they can attend a party,and she emerges from their room,wearing the sexiest red dress and red lipstick?

Like,one min gojo is tapping on his phone,the next minute he's choking on air 😂

no mentions of reader's pronouns but reader wears a dress and makeup, suggestive, kinda deviated from what anon originally wanted, gojo is dumb and in love nevertheless.

“if you don’t kiss me this very second, i might die.”

“excuse me?”

“if you don’t kiss me this very second, i. might. die,” gojo parrots, putting more emphasis on his words, as his eyes burn blue flames of determination and unwavering grit.

a laugh slips past your lips, “you’re being silly, satoru,” is all you say before walking past him and towards the genkan where you put out the red heels you were planning on wearing tonight.

“but i’m being serious!” he whines, “you don’t want me to die now, do you?”

“what started this?” reaching down to put on your shoes, your boyfriend is beside you in an instant, holding out his hand for you to grab as if acting like a glorified stand. you take it easily, putting your weight onto him to balance. 

“when you’re looking this irresistible i can’t help it, and it’s a red dress, what do you want from me?” the white-haired whistles before bending down to his knees when you’re back on two feet. his hands then reach for the straps of your shoes, wrapping them up for you. “is it so selfish of me to keep you all for myself?”

he kisses your calf when he’s done, standing back to his full height. “well, you are a selfish man, after all.”

“only when it comes to you,” gojo reaches for your hand to place on his cheek. his other hand tightens around your waist, gentle with his grip, but fully possessive. “you’re too gorgeous for my health, i’ll die of jealousy before lack of attention.” 

you laugh, drunk on love and affection as gojo pouts at you. “oh satoru.”

“what?” exclaims the sorcerer. “you’re going to capture everyone’s hearts. i don’t like it when other men look at you.” 

“is that my fault?”

“no, never your fault, baby. i’ll fight off anyone who looks too long.”

you smile at him, eyes crinkling. “what am i gonna do with you?”

“stay with me forever?”

“if you’re good enough, sure.”

“how about a kiss, then?”

pinching his cheeks, you take a step away from him, breaking the hazy, lovestruck daydream that gojo had entered. “not when i have this lipstick on.”

(he takes a second to admire your retreating figure, only looking away when you send him a pointed and unimpressed look, to his dismay.) 

“why not?” his tone is one of utter distraught and like a magnet, the sorcerer finds himself drawn towards standing beside you again, hand snaking up to hold your hips as you check your appearance in the hallway mirror.

“it will leave a lipstick mark, duh.”

“maybe that’s what i want.”

“you’re awful.”

“just one kiss, please?”

“but it will ruin the makeup.”

“i’ll die otherwise, y/n, won’t you save me?” 

you scoff. “fine. one kiss.”

the look of pure joy on gojo’s face could rival the brightness of the sun and you wonder how you could ever learn to resist this man’s charms. turning around in his grasp, you pull him in for a kiss that fills his lungs with absolute adoration, a warmth that threatens to melt him into a puddle at your feet. 

his heart sinks when you pull away, and hits rock bottom with a ‘thud’ when you don’t return to him.

“hey! that was too short.”

“makeup, satoru,” you lecture pointedly. “we should probably leave now, don’t want to be too late-”

“-i think we just don’t go at all.” 

“that would be impolite and rude, we can’t-”

“-we can,” he murmurs before sealing your lips with his, this time with a lot more passion and weight than you likes. however, not one part of you moves to push him away, giving in to his touch despite how you know you shouldn’t. 

“satoru, you’re going to have lipstick marks all over you,” you reason against his lips.

instead, he kisses you harder. “just what i want.” 

when his hand bunches up your red dress in his grasp, you know you’ve lost this fight, bending to gojo’s wishes under him.

you arrive looking prim and proper whilst your lover’s neck is littered with kiss marks. 

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[ellequarius]

How I Manifested $50k USD

Hi!!! I'm gonna tell you guys how i manifested $50,000 for my dad. So basically my dad had a bunch of credit card debt because he wasn't getting paid very well at his job. This had been going on for a couple months and he had racked up at least $7,000 on his credit card. He brought it up a lot and we'd have to start budgeting and stuff. Anyways a few days ago i wanted my hair done and my dad said we couldn't afford it. This deeply annoyed me for like two days but then i was like "wait, I could just manifest him some money." I've never really manifested large amounts of money like this purely because of limiting beliefs that i've had. Anyways i picked the first number that came into mind, $50k. I was in class at the time and was bored out of my mind and i was just like "fuck it." So i affirmed 3 times that my dad has received 50k and went on about my day, i affirmed any chance i remembered too and i think on the 3rd or 2nd day I woke up one morning and i heard my dad cheering and practically jumping for joy. Now mind you it was like 5am and i had only gotten like 5 hours of sleep (it was midterms week) and I was a little tired and i wondered why he was so happy and i thought to myself "oh must be the money i manifested him". Since then there's been no mention of the credit card debt, and when i asked him to bring me to get my hair done he said yes with no other comments! (im actually getting my hair done as i write this!) I saw his Bank of america transactions and that he received the exact amount that i affirmed for! Now idk if taxes is gonna take some of that money away but I am very proud of myself.

Sorry if this post was really long, I haven't posted on this blog for awhile but i promise i will be more active!! I also listened to adambjas "I am in control" tape a lot and this one https://drive.google.com/file/d/1yeGwSoOmOt4fUIG-wAzXJSBOcCoTLQvd/view?pli=1 , which I think helped a lot.

I ALSO FORGOT TO MENTION that i deleted tumblr off my phone cause i was overconsuming info and i was just getting stressed tf out. I think deleting tumblr was the last push i really needed.

[undertheorangetree]

The Last of the Dragons

Chapter Five- The Agreement

Summary- Even days have culminated to this moment.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female Reader. Incest. Pregnancy (we all knew this was coming). Treason. Mention of murder/poisoning. OOC Aemond cuz he’s experiencing joy. Titty sucking. Soft smut.

Author’s Note- and that’s that on that! I genuinely cannot believe how well received this was, I honestly thought I was gonna be writing this entirely for me and didn’t think people would respond to it the way they did. I’m so so glad you all loved it and hopefully that love continues with the final chapter. Full chapter linked below🥰

Morning lets out a curious sound as she follows the reflection of the compact. Her head tilts, the scratch of her claws echoing through the room as she turns them in before she's pouncing on the sunspot, attempting to trap it underfoot. Baela laughs as she shifts her hand, sending the light further into the room, Morning skittering across the flagstones in order to chase it and pulling a laugh from her as well.

Rhaena does not share in their glee, letting out a heavy sigh as she makes her way across the room. "You're so mean to her, you shouldn't tease."

"We're playing," Baela defends, but Rhaena picks Morning up all the same, the young dragon settling into her arms almost immediately. She curls into the warmth of Rhaena's chest, stretching out long where she is cradled, tail falling limp over her arm.

"You'll be lucky if she doesn't bite you," she laughs, making her way over to Rhaena and running her fingers across the pink scales on Morning’s snout.

The little dragon makes a purring noise, pushing up against her fingers and she can't contain her smile. She had never seen Silverwing as a hatchling, claiming her on Dragonstone soon after her family arrived, but she can't deny how sweet Morning is, more akin to a cat than a dragon. Vermax had never been that way, Arrax kinder but capable of the same prickly nature. Tyraxes and Stormcloud seemed closer to Morning than the latter two were but none seemed sweeter than her. Though sweet as she may be, she is still a dragon, capable of violence at any given moment. Particularly if Baela continued to goad her.

Baela looks at her in mock offense, closing the compact pointedly before making her way toward them. "She would never. Far too sweet for such cruelty, aren't you, my love?"

She puts her face far too close to Morning's and though she braces herself to watch her sister lose a chunk of her nose, Baela pulls away before anything can happen, simply rubbing the tip of her nose against Morning’s. There is a degree of longing in her eyes as she backs away and immediately she knows Baela is missing Moondancer. Their bond had been special and the loss had hit her hard, especially when coupled with all the horror that followed, the chains Aegon forced her into, and she feels her heart break for her sister.

"Perhaps we can go riding soon," she offers, coming up to take hold of Baela's elbow. "Silverwing is big enough for two. We can ride however you'd like."

Baela smiles, the corners tinged with sadness, and brings up her hand to take her own, squeezing once. "I would like that."

"And perhaps Morning will join us as well once she's big enough to saddle," she adds, turning back to Rhaena.

Her second sister grins brightly, a laugh escaping her as Morning scrambles up her arm to lounge across her shoulders like a mink fur. She nearly blends into Rhaena's gown, the two pinks far too similar a colour to be pure coincidence, and Baela reaches out a hand to pull their sister closer.

It is moments like this that she has missed the most, moments where the three of them are alone, where they can act as they did as children. There was a brief period, the two years they spent together on Dragonstone before Baela was sent to Driftmark to ward, where they had days just like this. The three of them, joined together at the hip solely because they were girls of the same age. The same septa, the same maester, together always. On occasion, she had found herself missing Helaena, wishing that the four of them had been given the chance to be girls together, wishing that this familial rivalry did not exist. But the night on Driftmark had sealed that fate behind a metal grate forever and Helaena's marriage to Aegon had confirmed it further.

There was to be no shared girlhood for them. Not in this lifetime.

The door to her chambers opens then, pulling her from her thoughts and revealing their grandsire. He stands in the threshold for a moment to take them in, all three chained together by clasped hands, and smiles widely. It makes her stomach drop. "Are we to spend the morning together then?"

"Unfortunately not," she says, face scrunched in sympathy before turning to her sisters. "Would you both give us a moment alone? Council matter, I'm afraid."

"Of course, lovely," Baela assures her. Though there is a clear suspicion there, she still presses a kiss to her cheek all the same.

Rhaena is nodding as well, raising Morning in her arms. "We should find something for this beast to eat before she attempts to devour a few ravens in the rookery."

They say their goodbyes, each pressing a kiss to Corlys's cheek, and she feels her heart clench the moment the door closes behind them, leaving her alone with their grandsire. Corlys looks over at her and smiles, enough to make her guilt feel all consuming before she gestures to her dining table. He takes a seat while she begins rifling through her letter chest, searching for the right seal before pulling it out and joining him at the table.

Read the rest here :)

Taglist- @ammo23 @bellstwd @kckt88 @aemondsbabygirl @shygardengalaxy @duds31 @at-a-rax-ia @ladymarg0t @queenofshinigamis @drakar-i @cl-0-vr @castellomargot @moonlightfoxx @ladybug0095 @marihoneywk @the-common-cowgirl @darylandbethfanforever9 @bunny24sstuff @helaenaluvr @toodlesxcuddles @eternally-passionate @herfantasyworldd @ashovertheriver @hypocritic-trash-baby @heavenly1927 @bunbunbl0gs @divxnee @seabasscevans @madislayyy @jessssica1234 @humanpurposes @strangersunghoon

[annawritesblog]

When I first saw you (o.p.)

Summary: Oscar falls for y/n instantly.

A/N: enjoyed writing this a lot. just some pure fluff for my Oscar girlies out there. also we need more Oscar imagines. please remember that english is not my first language, so excuse me if something's not correct. enjoy

Oscar knew. He knew the first time he saw her. The way her navy blue dress hugged her body, the way she laughed, the way her hair fall into her face. He just knew he had to get her.

He didn’t know who she was or why she was there then. He did know that he had been mesmerized by her beauty.

She just wanted to leave. She wasn’t a very sociable person. She had her close friend group whom with she very much liked spending time with. And although she did have her best friend by her, it was just awkward for her. She didn’t know anyone there, except Lily and her boyfriend. But the pair of them had disappeared minutes ago to have a chat with Alex’s boss. Time didn’t seem to pass and y/n grew anxious. She was standing all alone with a glass of champagne in her hand.

She didn’t know why she came. Maybe because her best friend had convinced her that it would be fun ‘hanging out’ with f1 drivers, at a formal dinner party. Tho she liked f1 and being in the same room as most drivers filled her with joy, the being alone thing didn’t. Neither did the fact that she felt like an outsider.

On the other end of the room, Oscar stood with a glass of champagne in his hand. He had spent the entire evening looking at the heaven brought angel. He wanted to go up to her several times, but never actually worked up the courage. So he just stayed with the staring. Which might have resulted in some confused looks. Mainly from his teammate. After a while, Lando decided that it was enough.

“Come on now Osc. Go up to her.” The Brit looked at the brunette standing next to him.

“And what do I do? Just stand next to her?” Oscar pointed out, although he knew his point didn’t make any sense. He didn’t make any sense.

“Oh, I don’t know let me think. Maybe talk to her?” Lando joked and Oscar just rolled his eyes. If it would be that easy, he wouldn’t think twice.

“I can’t. She would think I’m an idiot.” The young driver sighed and sipped his champagne.

“Go up to her and ask her if she’s enjoying the party.” Lando suggested, hoping that his friend would finally make the step. “Look, she’s alone. She’s been for a while. I’m sure she would even enjoy your company.” He laughed and Oscar wanted to disappear.

He was right tho. She was standing alone for some time. There’s nothing wrong in accompanying someone who’s standing all alone. And who knows, maybe Lando’s right. Maybe she would enjoy his company. More or less.

“Okay fine. I’ll go talk to her.” Oscar tightened his tie and inhaled nervously. He was going to finally do it.

“That’s the spirit.” The McLaren driver exclaimed. “Just keep it light, crack a few jokes. You have pretty funny ones.”

“Thanks.” Oscar said and left Lando on his own.

She wasn’t that far away actually. But the whole way there, he had ran things through his mind. Keep it light. The words from his teammate kept repeating in his head. It shouldn’t be that hard. Right?

She was ready to leave. Ready to go home and make a hot chocolate while listening to real music. Not this jazz that was making her head hurt. She would come up with some shitty excuse for Lily, something like a headache. She grabbed her clutch from the fancy table and started heading towards the exit. That was until she heard someone behind her.

“Did you drop this?” The brunette boy asked her. She looked confused, annoyed even. It was a penny in his hand. She did not drop that for sure.

He knew this excuse was terrible. It was everything but keeping it simple. And he felt like a fool. Did you drop this? Seriously? God he was so mad at himself.

Daniel joined Lando at the other end of the room. Lando had his eyes glued to the scene. He was cheering for Oscar when he had started going towards her. Then, not so much. He examined the actions of his teammate with wide eyes. What was he doing? He’s messing it up big time.

“What are we watching?” The Alphatauri driver asked.

“Oscar flirting.” Lando simply answered and tried to figure out his plan. Daniel shrugged his shoulder and decided to roll with it and catch up with the plot. He soon realized what was happening. And God, was he surprised.

Everybody knew Oscar as a professional and serious driver. Always had his eyes on the prize and nothing could get him out of his concentration. Although he was a rookie, he walked with confidence and broke down any wall that had blocked him in his career. But now, he looked like was completely changed: nervously scratching the back of his head as he was explaining something to the girl in front of him, probably mumbling and so on.

Near the exit, y/n stood with the racing driver. The Australian still waited for her answer although he knew she in fact didn’t drop it. She couldn’t have, because he was the one who took the penny out of his pocket and acted like someone dropped it. Just so he could have an excuse to talk to her. God, was he just an idiot.

“I didn’t, no.” Y/n said and smiled lightly. She found him attractive. Not like intimidating, more like he was comforting. He stood tall infront of her and she could smell his cologne. It was pleasant.

“Alright then, sorry.” Oscar looked at her and boy he was falling. Now having heard her voice, he was hooked. He never thought that love at first sight could happen to him, but here he was. Making a fool of himself.

“Maybe you should keep it. It gives you luck apparently.” She explained to the driver.

“Well I guess it already did. Otherwise I wouldn’t be talking to you.” He said without thinking. The girl blushed and smiled which made the butterflies in Oscar’s stomach erupt. Maybe he wasn’t that bad at flirting after all. “I’m Oscar.” He offered his hand.

“Y/n.” She shook his hand. Their hands fit perfectly. Perfect for them at least. The way her small hand stood in his big one. It was comfortable. And both of them could feel it. They eventually let go.

“That’s a very pretty name.” Oscar said and he was well aware of how blushed his cheeks were. So were hers. “So, are you enjoying the party?”

“I-it’s okay.” She chose her words carefully. She didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.

“Very convincing.” He laughed and y/n felt her knees go weaker at the sound of that. She wouldn’t mind hearing that more.

“I just don’t really know anyone here.” She confessed and felt a bit small. He must think she’s some kinda antisocial person. Which she was, to an extent.

“Well, now you know me.” The brunette smiled. “It’s not the best dinner party, but also not the worst. The music tho, horrible.”

“Right? It makes me want to sleep almost.” The two of them laughed and y/n felt comfortable for the first time that night.

The pair of them kept talking for a long time. In the mean time y/n had placed her clutch on the table, signaling that there’s no way she’s leaving. Although that was exactly her plan not that long ago. The talked about her studies, his career, where they both came from, and many many things. Before they knew it, people started leaving. Both of them acknowledged that the night had come to an end, though neither of them wanted to leave. But they had to.

“I had a really great time talking to you, y/n.” Oscar said as he escorted the girl out the place. He placed his hand on her lower back, not too low tho, no need to scare her away. Goosebumps ran through her whole body from the combination of his hand and the cold air. She didn’t want the night to end.

“I had too.” The girl answered and smiled up at the boy in front of her. As soon as they stepped out of the venue the cold hit them both. It was the middle of the night so it was no surprise.

Oscar still kept his hand on her back but the girl had turned to face him. They were close, not too close but close enough. “Can I see you again sometime?” He asked and felt his cheeks burning, luckily it was dark.

“I would love that.” Y/n smiled and felt like nothing would ever top this feeling. Oscar actually wanted to see her again. Like a date. They would meet again and talk just like they did before. Unbelievable yet true.

The wind was blowing, messing up the girl’s hair. It didn’t really bother her, she just wanted to freeze the moment. Stay like this forever, that’s what they both wanted to do.

A strand of hair had escaped her elegant bun and Oscar quickly noticed. He put the strand behind her ear and inhaled sharply. Both of their hearts were racing. He lightly caressed her cheeks lovingly and the girl felt the warmth of his fingertips on her face. It was truly magical, until.

Until someone shouted out y/n’s name. Both of them pulled away awkwardly and just stood there. Lily and Alex walked up to the girl, at first not noticing the McLaren driver.

“Oh thank God, you’re here.” Lily hugged y/n and she felt awkward as hell. “You didn’t answer your phone, I thought you left without us.”

“I was-“ she was cut off by Alex who was the first to notice that y/n was in fact not standing alone.

“Oscar?” The Williams driver furrowed his brows in confusion. Oscar just waved then shook his hand. It was all becoming too much. For y/n at least.

And then it hit Lily. The two were together. Of course they were. And they just disturbed them.

“Oh.” Lily looked at the two of them. “So we’re just gonna wait for you in the car. Whenever you’re ready.” She smiled and grabbed her boyfriend’s hand who was still very confused.

As soon as the pair left, y/n and Oscar bursted out laughing. What could have they done? The moment was gone anyway so why stress about it more?

“So listen.” Oscar started. “I would be really happy if you’d go on a date with me.” He came out with it clear and simple.

The girl nodded. “I would love to go on a date with you, Oscar.” God, his name sounded so good from her mouth. He wanted to hear that playing on loop in his head.

Y/n gave the tall boy her number and he promised to call very soon. Little did she know, he would text her that night telling her again how much fun he had. Both of them started heading against different cars, y/n having carpooled with Lily and Alex, while Oscar drove himself home.

“I promise we’ll finish what we started.”

[literaticat]

I'm at my wit's end. I've spent a decade trying to break through - 10 years with 5 novels coming super close with a variety of big publishers, who rave about my writing, ideas, etc. Feedback has been mostly positive. One even rejected saying "I don't know why we're rejecting this, it's EXACTLY what we're looking for and ticks all our boxes, but we feel compelled to reject it anyway." Is there just a "Do Not Publish" sign on my head? How to keep pushing ahead after so long and so much rejection?

(OP continues...) "Sorry about the rant, Jenn, and I know there's not much you can say as you don't know my specific situation. But it's just maddening. 10+ years of my life! I know everyone faces rejection, but I seem to mostly get positive feedback and so many "close calls" of almost getting a deal - a lot of interest, but then it just peters out. That "compelled to reject anyway" just made me start feeling like I'm just fated to never be published, no matter what? I'm unagented now, starting from scratch..."

OK first of all -- that rejection, if that is literally what they said, is utterly insane. I have to presume (HOPE? PRAY?) that you are paraphrasing, that that is what it *felt* like to you, but that's not LITERALLY what they said??? Because there are certainly things where, on the surface, yes, this is what a publisher is looking for and it "ticks the boxes", but ultimately, it doesn't have that X-factor, je ne sais quois, or whatever -- so I can see a publisher saying something like, "while the writing is admirable and the premise is interesting, ultimately, we weren't compelled enough to make an offer for publication" -- which is ALMOST what you said, but there's a key difference that makes it actually normal and not insane. Because in YOUR version, it sounds like they are under an imperius curse or something, where they don't know what they are doing or why they are doing it, they just have to do it, even though it is against what WOULD be their better judgment if they weren't cursed. And... it's wild to think that a publisher would make a statement like that. (Maybe they were having a very OFF DAY???) -- BUT ANYWAY, on to the crux of your question/rant:

I understand your frustration. If it makes you feel any better (??), you're not alone. I know many -- MANY -- MANY career authors, who spent 10 years honing their craft, trying and failing, getting rejections, getting close-but-no-cigars, etc. I was chatting with a wise (and now famous) author I know, who spent 10 years or so in the query/wrong-agent/rejection/close-call trenches. She told me a theory that I feel pretty sure is right, though I don't have proof per se, it does track with my observations. She said:

Just about everyone who sticks with writing or the arts in general as a career has about a ten-year rough patch. That doesn't mean it takes everyone ten years to get published! (Though it does take LOTS of people 10+ years) -- Some lucky people get their break a lot sooner than that. BUT. Everyone has to pay the piper that ten year fee, either all at once, or in installments. So let's say you sell your book right away and start raking in the accolades etc -- fab! Just know that nobody stays popular and beloved forever, and at some point, the ten year slump is coming for you. Aren't you lucky that you're getting yours out of the way now?

OK, if that didn't work for you, how about this:

How to keep pushing ahead after so long and so much rejection?

You know you don't have to, right?

Like, if writing and seeking traditional publication is making you miserable -- you can stop. In fact, stopping may be a great idea.

I say this not to be discouraging, but rather, encouraging, actually. I encourage you to give yourself permission to prioritize your own mental and emotional well-being.

If you realize you miss writing and can't live without it -- go back to it! But maybe instead of having "publication" as your goal, your goal can be writing for the pure joy of it, without worrying about future queries or would-be agents or anyone else's expectations. What freedom! Embrace that!

Then when you do have a brand-new shiny manuscript, you can decide your next steps. Maybe it's trying again for traditional publishing, and this is the turn around the track that changes everything. (It should be close, if the 10 year theory is correct!)

OR, maybe it's self-publishing. (Lots of people have a lot of success there -- maybe you're one of them!) --

OR, maybe it's just chilling out and writing some more for your own pleasure -- creating art for the sake of creating it, for fun, for self-fulfillment, etc. Like, you know, a normal hobby, that nobody is expecting you to monetize or make into a "gig".

[nekropsii]

What a about Caliborn makes him so cool in your opinion?

Go keep track of his progression as an artist alongside his development as a character and think about how these are intrinsically linked. Ponder the fact that he is both at his most obnoxious and at his most amateur when trying to ignore his unique style explicitly brought on by his canonical learning disability and mimic others rather than truly be himself. Consider how his explorations of art are genuinely cool, not a bad thing, and how we get some really neat multimedia stuff out of it.

Caliborn may be a shitty little teenage wretch but the way he is portrayed as an artist and as a disabled person is both really good and very real. It comes from a place of love. His learning disability is handled with a degree of gentle care that you would not really expect from Hussie. The place Caliborn's art style ends up in is so fucking sick and I actually unironically love it. The technique he uses is really interesting. It's intentionally reminiscent of an Etch-a-Sketch, and I'm a little obsessed with it.

This is so fucking good. I mean this seriously. He's right - that is some Pure Art Skill.

I just love the way art is employed as a necessary component of his character arc. It's so neat. You don't see visual cues that intricate too often. Usually it's just in character design, but watching his entire art style and even his medium of choice change several times over is fascinating. You can really tell Hussie had a lot of fun with him. He's also just really, really fucking funny. Just about every sentence that comes out of his mouth is Grade A Absolute Fucking Gold, and I'm honestly obsessed with his dynamic with Dirk. This may get me thrown to the wolves, but I personally think Dirk and Caliborn have way more chemistry than Dirk and Jake. Maybe that's because we actually see Dirk and Caliborn interact on screen... Lmao.

Necessary Topic: I don't know why people hate him so much. Like, I understand hating his misogyny and fatphobia, sure, but those are deliberate character points and not just Hussie-isms. I see people act like Caliborn is indicative of Hussie, as if Homestuck-era Hussie wasn't, like, famously really fucking good at writing female characters and absolutely not a misogynist. Caliborn's a parody of Homestuck Anti-Fans - which is a term we really ought to bring back, god, anti-fans are absolutely still a thing and good lord they're everywhere - who really were just shitty little bigoted haters. Calliope, the opposite side of his coin, was representative of, essentially, "the best kind of Homestuck fan" - an ultimately sweet young teen girl who willingly dedicates almost all of her time to this piece of fiction she loves so, so much, who draws a lot of fan art for the joy of it all, has OCs that don't fit any of the design conventions in Homestuck whom she pairs with the characters in it for innocent fun. Someone who has a lot of theories and analyses, writes a lot of fanfic, and is genuinely just having a lot of fun. Everyone loves Calliope. Even the characters in Homestuck love Calliope. They just think she's the cutest, sweetest little thing they ever did see. Caliborn was the worst kind. He sucks on purpose. No one likes him. He is a total nuisance to characters he is by all means trying to impress. I love them both.

It's also just funny that he's a canonical Intersex Transmasc who is probably Gay and this has, like, no relevance to anything about him, really. So no one really talks about it. Gender Hilarious, Gender Nefarious.

[crudely-drawn-ben]

Introducing Trilogy

Yesterday I released Trilogy, a new tabletop RPG crafted to support you in having grand adventures in worlds of your own making.

There are several reasons I started writing Trilogy, but the biggest one is that I ran a Dungeon World podcast called Crudely Drawn Swords for seven years and that was a lot of time to think about what we were playing. To a degree Trilogy is the game I wish that we could have had to run the podcast.

Starting from the question "what would a purely PbtA game for epic fantasy look like?" I started thinking more widely - what do I want from a fantasy game? And the truth is that I want a game that supports the structure of characters and their interactions but doesn't tie itself to a specific setting.

Trilogy begins with The Appendices - conventionally in epic fantasy these are at the end and document information about the wider world that might not have made it into the story, but here it is where you sit down as a group and decide what tone you want your game to have, and your world looks like. What kind of place is it? What magic is there? What is religion like? What are the major cultures where the story begins? How would it feel to be in this world? Trilogy doesn't tell you any of these things, it gives you the tools to think through how you want your world to look.

This creates a secondary challenge - without knowing what the world looks like, how could I design character classes for this type of game? Trilogy answers this by going back to the fundamentals - instead of a conventional character class, the playbooks in Trilogy represent a narrative arc. Some of them, like The Fighter, The Priest, or The Magus, look like familiar classes. Others, such as The Volunteer, The Mentor, The Weapon, or The Defeated, are a little different. Character arcs have a set of turning points, story beats that allow you to advance along your arc after you have collected a certain amount of experience. Some are positive and others negative, you choose which ones you want to hit and when, but every character's story has its highs and lows and to get the most from the game you need to lean into both. A character can pass through three arcs as they grow and change, like the three volumes of a trilogy.

The aim of the game is to create a slower but satisfying sense of progression - instead of hit points characters take Stress and Harm like in other Powered by the Apocalypse games that can have both mechanical and narrative effects. That makes combat feel dangerous, but the game also offers more ways to solve problems without getting into combat - I have played games where the player characters never got into a fight, instead resolving confrontations through an ingenious selection of alternative strategies including "lying" and "vomiting magic ink all over the floor." I'm genuinely enthusiastic about this game - I think I would be as excited about it if somebody else had written it. It leans hard into the joy of discovery and the excitement of adventure - you can play it as spooky and whimsical or gritty and hard-edged and anywhere in between.

Because I was writing it I even got to make most of the examples of play roll out as the story of someone's game, something I always appreciate when I read it. It also contains every technique I use as a GM in the hope that even before people get the chance to play it (heaven forbid any TTRPG afficionado have books we haven't got around to playing yet!) people who read it will still be able to use that advice in their other games. So that's Trilogy, the game I've been working on for the last few years. I think it's pretty great and I hope you will too:

Obviously it's a full-priced game and that's a big gamble from an unfamiliar creator - if you want an idea of what it's like in practice we've got the CDS team back together and we're starting a streamed campaign so you have a chance to see it in action. You can find that over on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NxpXacko9Nc

The first episode includes me notably failing to use OBS at both the beginning and end, and I can't make any promises things will improve in that regard, but it should be a good opportunity to see how the game shapes up from this start and with this crew I know it's going to be funny and take some wild swings. If you're interested in reviewing Trilogy or you really want to give it a try but you can't afford it, drop me a message

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Because I adore the elementary series ; I’m curious if there will be more drabbles about their first baby & the cute moments like the birth, first shots, first everything; smiles, first mom insecurities, etc.

My apologies if you are not taking any requests of the sort! 🫢

The Firsts

pairing: elementary!joel miller x f!reader

rating: M (talks of labor from a person who’s never given birth so bare with me, talks of shots/needles, first-time mother highs and lows, joel being the husband of our dreams)

wc: no clue but probably around 2-3k?

a/n: sorry this took so long @jennfromthebayarea !! this semester’s been a bitch, but i’m trying to find the spark to write again so bare with me if this is a pile of shit 🫶🏼

elementary masterlist

| The First Delivery |

Though you were well warned and made aware of the pain caused by childbirth, nothing compared to the reality of a contraction, or the searing pain of pushing a baby through your fucking vagina.

Even Joel seemed to have underestimated what birth would be like, his face pale and sweaty as he stood at your side, allowing you to squeeze his hand so hard he was sure it was broken.

“You’re doin’ so good, baby,” he cooed, wiping the sweat that gathered on your forehead away with a damp cloth. “Can already see her head.”

“Fuck this,” you cried, tossing your head back into the pillow you brought from home, your eyes clamped shut as you pushed again, hoping that this one would be the last.

“Doin’ so good,” he murmured against your hairline as he pressed a kiss there. “Just a few more pushes, baby.”

“I’m getting the epidural next time,” you panted, taking a second of rest to gather your strength.

“Next time?” he grinned, but you didn’t reply as you started to push again, hard enough to get her shoulders out. “Hardest part’s over, baby. Soon she’s gonna be cryin’ her eyes out in your arms.”

“Can’t wait,” you groaned, your head rolling back against the pillows. “This better be the last one.”

“Go on, then,” he urged with a smile. “Gimme our new babygirl.”

Though it felt like the next few minutes took hours to pass, your entire body screaming at you from overexertion, none of the pain seemed to matter or register the second that the room filled with your daughter’s gargled little cries. Joel let out a choked sound, something between pure joy and disbelief, as he left your side to cradle your messy newborn in his arms. Neither of you were capable of listening to the nurses or doctor’s congratulations as he carefully lowered your bundled up daughter to your chest, her screams music to your ears just because it meant that she was finally here.

She was real, made up of equal parts you and Joel. His dark hair and your kind eyes, his curved nose and your lips. The epitome of love come to life.

“Oh, babygirl,” Joel cooed, a tear rolling down his cheek. “You sure put up a fight on the way out.”

You laughed, something exhausted and yet so full of love and joy and relief.

“I can’t believe…” You shook your head, allowing your tears and emotions a moment to breathe before turning your glossy eyes to your husband. “We made her. Isn’t that insane?”

“I think we did a pretty good job,” he chuckled, lifting a thumb to wipe a rolling tear from your face. “Got all her fingers and toes. Looks like you, not like me. I’d say she’s perfect.”

You gave him a loving pout, rolling your eyes before turning back to your slightly calmer daughter in time for the nurses to take her away for a little clean up.

“How long ‘til she’s back?” Joel asked, his eyes fixed on his daughter as they laid her in her cart.

“Just a minute,” the nurse assured with a smile.

“I still have to push out the—“

“God, forgot about all that,” Joel winced, resuming his seat beside the head of the hospital bed, his hand finding yours. “You know how proud I am, baby? How much I love you?”

“How about you remind me,” you grinned, eyes batting with exhaustion. Joel leaned over, his lips ghosting against yours.

“So fuckin’ proud,” he murmured in between kisses. “And so fuckin’ in love with my wife. Mother of my girls. Fuckin’ everything to me, baby. Everything.”

| The First Shot |

“How long are we supposed t’wait?” Joel groaned, adjusting his posture in the uncomfortable plastic chair in the pediatrician’s waiting room. You grabbed his wrist, lifting the face of his watch up to read the time. “How long we been here?”

“An hour,” you sighed, letting your head fall back against the wall as you let your dry, tired eyes rest for a moment while Iris took a nap in her car seat on the floor in front of the two of you.

“Don’t fall asleep,” he cautioned, reaching his hand over to lay flat on the top of your denim-covered thigh, his touch warm and soothing even in all your irritability. “Y’know they’re gonna call us as soon—“

“Miller family?” the nurse called from the door leading to the patient rooms. With a rub of your eyes, you stood up along with Joel who, thankfully, already had Iris’ car seat handled. The nurse smiled at the three of you in a way that looked trained rather than genuine, but given your exhaustion and annoyance at having to be out in the world doing real people things with a newborn, you might just be extra critical. “Hi, come on back, guys.”

“S’about time,” Joel muttered under his breath, seemingly just as cranky and desperate to get home as you. “Any reason it took an hour for us to get called back?”

“Just a hectic day, I do apologize,” she offered, though once again…trained. Leading you down a hall, she pointed at a room with an open door on the right. “Right through here.”

Joel was even more tense than you as the two of you watched the nurse take your diaper clad newborn’s vitals before handing her back, Joel’s hands quick to take her into his arms.

“Fuckin’ cold in here,” he murmured as the nurse left the two of you with the assurance that the doctor would be right in. “Baby girl’s probably freezin’.”

“She’s behaving at least,” you said, reaching over to place her blanket over her as Joel kept her cradled in his arms. “No tears yet.”

“Until the needles come out,” he snarked.

“Just because you faint every time a needle comes near you—“

The sound of quick, sure knocks cut you off as the doctor walked in. “Miller family?”

“Yep,” you offered her a smile.

“Alright, and this must be Iris,” she said, walking over to Joel. “May I?”

Joel looked tempted to tell her to fuck off but conceded, handing Iris over.

“She’s a cutie, isn’t she?” she asked as she rested Iris on the examination table.

“All from her mama,” Joel added, forcing a smile onto your face.

“Well, her stats are looking great,” she said, pressing her stethoscope to Iris’s chest. “Only thing left to do is give her some shots, and I’m gonna need one of your help for that.”

“Joel,” you nudged him, not entirely confident in your ability to keep your daughter still in the middle of a potential tantrum.

“I’ll faint,” he said, no humor in his voice. “You gotta.”

“Fine,” you sighed, nerves coursing through you as the doctor walked Iris over to you. “How many shots?”

“Three today,” she said as she and the nurse set up the needles.

“Okay,” you nodded, taking deep calming breaths while Joel chose to close his eyes altogether as the doctor walked over with the first needle. “Alright, baby girl. Don’t hate me.”

“Just a quick pinch,” the doctor said as she injected the shot into Iris’s right thigh, the so-called “quick pinch” tearing a wail from your daughters chest.

“Oh, baby,” you frowned, holding her tight as she screamed her lungs out. “Just two more.”

The crying didn’t end until the three of you were seated in the car, the color drained from your faces as you all recovered in silence.

“Next time, I’m leavin’ the room for the shots,” Joel said, turning the key in the ignition.

“I feel so bad,” you frowned, leaning your head back against the headrest to listen to your daughters sniffles. “Poor baby.”

“Fuckin’ doctors,” Joel grumbled, shaking his head. “Makin’ babies cry.”

“Absolute sickos,” you agreed with a chuckle.

| The First Steps |

“Baby!” Joel’s yell was almost enough to get you to drop the sudsy plate in your hand as you washed the dishes. You quickly set the plate down and wiped your hands off on the dish towel hanging off the oven door before hustling out to the backyard where Joel, Sarah, and Iris were.

“What happened?” you asked in a panic, finding Joel half-crouched over with his back turned to you.

“Look,” he smiled over his shoulder before nudging his head to call you over. You hesitantly approached, rounding his frame until you saw what had him smiling so hard.

“She’s standing!” Sarah announced, squatting in front of her little sister while she held onto two of Joel’s fingers for balance.

“Stay,” you ordered the three of them before sprinting inside to grab your camera. When you returned to the patio, however, you almost forgot what you’d set out to do as Iris, guided by Joel’s clunky steps behind her, waddled and stumbled towards you. “Damn it, I don’t want to cry.”

Joel laughed, “Take the damn picture, baby.”

You sniffled away your tears and held the camera up, watching through the viewfinder as Joel leaned down to blow a raspberry against Iris’s cheek, making her laugh. You clicked the camera a couple times, determined to get a good photo unlike all of your previous attempts at documenting her growth—closed eyes, frozen frames of her right before she turned herself red with a tantrum, dribble flooding down her chin.

“Jesus, I’m getting this framed,” you cooed, frowning adoringly at the picture. “She looks so much like you when she smiles, Joel.”

“Poor girl,” Sarah teased, walking up to you to look at the picture. “She is a cutie, though. Especially when she’s not covered in barf or drool or snot or—“

“Like you were any different?” Joel teased her right back as he scooped Iris into his arms to settle her on his hip. “Had to get rid of half my shirts back in the day ‘cause someone wouldn’t stop pukin’ on me.”

“I probably did you a favor given your fashion sense,” she returned with a flip of her curls.

“Okay, you two,” you chuckled, handing Sarah the camera before reaching for your daughter. “You interrupted my chores so now they belong to you. I’m gonna go cuddle with my precious little—“ A whiff of something familiar hit you the second you hugged Iris closer. “Oof. More like my stinky little girl.”

“You’re takin’ diaper duty over dishes?” Joel asked, arching his brow.

“You’re right,” you said, handing your daughter back to him. “You’ve been doing it longer than me, I’m sure you’re better at—“

“Load of shit,” he laughed, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “Sarah’s got the dishes. You go sit down and think of some new ways to manipulate me into changing her diapers. Material’s gettin’ stale.”

| The First Day |

“Joel,” you sniffled as you started on Iris’s hair for her first day of preschool. “I can’t drop her off. I’m gonna have a breakdown and then she’s gonna have a breakdown and then I’m just going to cave and bring her home. You have to go do it.”

“Baby,” he laughed, his voice still coarse from sleep as he leaned in the doorway of Iris’s bedroom with a cup of coffee in hand. “S’gonna be fine.”

“No, it’s not,” you returned, more snippy than you’d intended. “I’m already a blubbering mess.”

“Mama,” Iris frowned, turning in your lap to stare at the tears sliding down your cheeks. “S’okay. Don’ cry.”

“Mama’s alright, baby,” Joel intervened, setting his coffee on the dresser before coming over to sit on her twin mattress beside the two of you, his arm wrapping around your waist. “You’re excited to go to school, ain’t ya?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, flashing a toothy smile. “Sissy said it’s not scary, so I’m not scared.”

“Good, there’s no reason to be,” he smiled at her before turning to you. “See? She’s good, baby.”

“But I’m not,” you managed through a whisper. Joel frowned and reached over to wipe your cheek free of your tears. “Can you please just come with me? I know you’ve got work but—“

“I’ll call Tommy n’ let him know,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “How ‘bout you go take a second to yourself and I’ll finish up here? Sound good?”

You gave him the sort of smile that screamed appreciation and undying devotion, one that was reserved just for him. “I love you.”

Joel placed a kiss on your shoulder and scooped your five year old out of your lap and onto his. “We love you more, mama. Don’t we?”

“Mmhm,” Iris grinned. “More than the whole wide world.

“Don’t get me started again,” you chuckled, wiping a few fresh, happier tears from your waterline. “Alright. Pig tails, she said.”

“What’s that? A lopsided ponytail? Comin’ right up.”